I’ve been trying to write a post a week. Shouldn’t be too hard right? With an 8 month old baby, a 10 year old competitive dancer and a 12 year old aspie, life is way too busy to work full time or even take a regular moment to indulge in writing.
And last week was particularly bad. Our older son, the one with Asperger’s had a rough week. Which meant we had a rough week. If you have a child with challenges you get it. If you don’t, then I don’t have the energy to explain it right now. I was going to apologize for that, but that is my Canadian politeness coming through, because it’s merely the truth.
This last year has been heading downhill for him, but for some reason last week was just plain awful. Something triggered him (I don’t know what yet) and he had the biggest meltdown that he’s had in five years.
He was hurting himself, hurting others and putting himself in danger. In other words everything a mother of a child with special needs dreads happening yet again.
Last time this happened, five years ago, he lost most of the school year in terms of actually learning anything, I lived pretty much at the school, and I struggled in vain to find someone to help us figure out what would help. Eventually I took a course run by Autism Ontario that I had to drive downtown to weekly for a couple of months. It was a godsend, but says something about the pathetic lack of services available for families with a child with autism.
I’m hoping with the DSM change that we will be able to access help this time around, but so far I’m not encouraged. I called the local crisis line and asked for a referral. The best they could do was say that someone would call back on Monday–three days later. The pediatrician’s office was worse, I don’t expect a call until at least five days after I left them a message. sigh.
The “system” abandoning a family in need yet again only contributes to the stress levels. It’s why I didn’t get my post out last week. Why I feel exhausted. Why I have no interest in celebrating my birthday this week. Why I haven’t written. Why so many other things didn’t get done.
So I sit and wait for the phone to ring. Hopefully it’s not the school and is someone offering help. But I won’t hold my breath.