Too Much For A Monday

Our autism journey

Autism is as much about how I handle it as it is about Owen having it. One of the hardest things is watching my child suffer. I turned on the microwave, and he said “open”. He didn’t scream. He goes through spurts where the noise bothers him, other times he only wants it “offT”, and now he has moved to wanting it “open”, but no screaming. I suppose I didn’t have to use the microwave, but a lot of days he doesn’t even think twice about it. The vacuum, that’s another story. I left it sit out one day. He had been at school, I vacuumed, and then I left it sitting there to see what would happen when he came home. He immediately melted to the floor, hands covering his ears, and screaming; it wasn’t even on. Three hours later, getting ready for bed he was still screaming about it, he woke in the night screaming about it, the next morning upset about it, and yet I’m still supposed to vacuum through this. I can’t. Vacuums don’t always bother him when he is some place else, but the lasting moments do. On Saturday everyone was out mowing their lawns. Last year this didn’t even phase Owen. He watched the lawnmowers from the window occasionally as they would start. Saturday he sat there paralyzed next to me every time one turned on. He hadn’t heard them for awhile, maybe it will get easier, but how do I prepare for a lawnmower. He’s back to not sleeping, me too. I get lost in my thoughts, and the order that I’m supposed to head off the crisis before it starts. I read one time that this gets “easier”. I think that was about the time I stopped reading as much. There is nothing about this that gets easier, different yes, but this is my son; there is nothing easy about watching him cry, and scream because the world is making noise. I know that these are his emotions, and he screams as he can or cannot process something, but it is hard on me when I don’t know when the next explosion is going to happen. It is hard on me to hear screaming for hours on end. Autism is pretty isolating for some families. The lack of support and help for our families are not there either. Owen yells, “hi I wuv ewe” across the room at me. I’m very emotional today. I’m trying desperately to do it all, and see my world crumbling. In the instance I sat writing the world crumbling Owen was screaming, because he lost his game. He came running to me, and I hugged him, he immediately started laughing. These are how his emotions go. I have to be quick to process them, but my heart wants him to be able to tell me all his feelings, so I can process it. I feel weak and broken, because I cannot do it all for him. All I can do is hold him, and try to make it easier on both of us. I never imagined in a millions years what autism was like. I never imagined I would have to be on top of my game every minute of the day. The love of my life has autism. Here’s to new beginnings. Here’s to finding strength. Here’s to my son that has taught me so much and makes push with every ounce of my being to become better at being me. I cry a lot, I pray more, and I love Owen beyond words. Today I pray for our tomorrow. Find your strength and make today matter. Smiles to all and donut daze!

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