Showing posts with label depressive. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depressive. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

We Don’t Walk on Sunshine We Walk on Eggshells

Let me preface this with a disclaimer.


Neither I, nor my son, his father, or any of our family are looking for pity. What we are looking for is to educate the masses that mental illness DOES affect children. It also affects their families.




Tomorrow is the Vernal Equinox. (By the time this posts, it will be passed the VE.) We’re already experiencing longer days. That alone throws many of us for a loop. Especially Autism families. For families like ours, it’s something more.

If you’ve followed us for any amount of time, you know that my son is Autistic. He also lives with Pediatric Bipolar Disorder. I’ve spoken written many times about his major depressive cycles. As a matter of fact, the big one is right around the corner. That’s what Spring brings to our family each year.

However, I don’t believe I’ve ever written about his manic cycles. At least not in depth, nor on this blog. Which brings me to why I’m sitting here writing tonight. At the moment, my son is quietly playing with his action figures. This is the longest I have seen him sit still in days.

If you’re familiar with Autism, you know many Autistics don’t tend to sit still for long. They stim too. My son does both, but when he’s in a Manic cycle, they’re more extreme. I used to tell people that while I loathe Bipolar Disorder, I would take a Manic Cycle over a depressive one any day of the week. That changed this weekend.

Until just yesterday, I have never noticed what an extreme Manic episode was. You see, when my son (and many others) are in (what I thought to be a) manic cycle, they’re uber happy. They tend to talk non-stop, whether it makes sense or not. They ramble on, going from one topic to the next, and rarely stop for air. (I’m not exaggerating.) When you add Autism into the mix, stimming is virtually non-stop as well. My son doesn’t sit still at all when he’s manic (hypomanic.) Sleep is nil. It lasts for a few days or so. Many would look at my son during this time and think of Autism and ADHD.  So as you can see, this would be preferable to watching your loved one so depressed that they can’t function. As I recently learned, this in fact tends to be more of a hypomanic cycle.

Until yesterday I have only ever seen my son in a hypomanic cycle. I had yet to witness full blown mania. Without going into specifics and embarrassing my son, let me explain it in a way that I can still protect his privacy.



My son went from the above “symptoms,” to a grandiose version of them. Then suddenly, he snapped. Something so little, so trivial, sent him over the edge. I’ve seen my son have so many meltdowns, that they really don’t even phase me anymore, but this, this was different. Writing this right now is making me sick, but this, this was terrifying.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look in his eyes. His face read rage, fear, and utter lack of any idea of what was happening. Liam’s father wasn’t here. It was just him, my older (step) son, and myself.

This outburst (for lack of a better term) was directed at his brother. I was reprimanding Liam for something, and he saw his brother smile. That was it. That was all it took. He was on him like a feral dog on his first meal in weeks. Before my mind could fully process what was happening, I jumped up and yanked him off his brother, put him on the floor, and applied some of my weight for pressure.

He was screaming, but in just a few moments I saw MY SON come back to me. (You see, THAT wasn’t my son.) His body hitched with tears and I let him up. He ran into the kitchen and hid in a corner.

It took a bit for me to calm him down. I did what I always do after he has a meltdown. I let him tell me what he needs. (Which happened to be some squeezing and singing.) He kept repeating that it wasn’t his fault. That WE are bad and made him angry. That isn’t my boy. My boy always owns up to his actions. He always tells on himself if he does something naughty. But last night…. last night he blamed us. After that, he went straight into self loathing.


He kept repeating that he was “bad,” and “no good.” When he was more calm, I offered him a drink, “I can’t have a drink because I don’t deserve to drink.” My heart was breaking. I kept reassuring him that he wasn’t any of those things. My older son just sat on the couch, completely dumbfounded and shocked at what happened in a split second.

We both talked to him about it. We told Liam that we understand HE wasn’t in control. That he wasn’t in trouble, BUT that he HAD to try his very best to be in control. He went back to being hyper, stimmy, and talking.

A few hours later it happened again. This time because they were having a Nerf war, and his brother hit him with a dart. Within thirty minutes the whole situation was better. My husband came home. The only way he knew something horrible has happened was the looks on mine and our older son’s face. Liam was just playing and being Liam.



When Liam left the room I cried. I bawled and tried to explain what happened to my husband. Snot and tears were flying. I’ve rarely seen a clueless and helpless look on his face, but last night, that’s all he wore. Today we all have walked on eggshells. For fear of another manic outburst, or him delving to the bottom of a depressive cycle.


I know many may read this and think, “you’re the parents, you’re in control, not him!” The truth is, NONE of us are. Right now, Bipolar Disorder is in control.

So, tomorrow morning we’re putting in a crisis call to his doctor. We need to make a plan. We need to find new ways to help our son, because he, and us, do NOT deserve to live like this.

Edited to add: As of today he is doing much better. An appointment has been made with an emergency plan if need be.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Because He Cries

Last night was a rough one here at the House of AuSome. Liam got upset with me because he wanted to watch a certain movie and I told him it was inappropriate for him. He got mad. So mad, that he shut himself up in his room to pout. For AN HOUR!

Liam is never too far from me. He won't stay anywhere. He follows me around the house. You get the idea. So I was shocked. I let him pout. He even wrote me a letter on strips of paper.


It came time for melatonin and he still wasn't speaking to me. I waited half an hour for his gummy to kick in, and I told him I was going to bed. He wrote me a note saying he wasn't talking to me, and he was going to sleep in the living room.

Again, I was flabbergasted because we share a room. He can't sleep by himself, and for any of us to get any sleep at all, this was our only course of action. I told him I understood. I bent and kissed his forehead, and told him I loved him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.

I walked back to our room. As I was standing in the bathroom brushing my teeth, I heard the pitter patter of little feet. Then 2 little arms embraced me with such force, I staggered for a moment.

I looked down to see his face. All red, tears flowing down his cheeks. He started to heave with heavy sobs. I quickly rinsed my mouth and managed to walk him, still grasping me with all his might, over to my bed. We sat, and he immediately climbed into my lap. 

My heart sank. He hasn't cried this hard since his last severe depressive cycle. That was last year. It could come at any time, since the severe cycle always comes around the same time. We are on pins and needles, fearing it could come everyday.

I started softly asking him questions. "Are you okay? Are you still angry with me? Do you understand why I said no? Do you know how much I love you?" He wouldn't speak, only answering with nods.

You see, if he were having a meltdown, I wouldn't be barraging him with questions. I know that would only make it worse. With a dual diagnosis such as Autism, and Bipolar, it's usually one or the other, or one making the other worse. (Example, if he has a meltdown and screams nasty things at us, he sometimes then goes into a depressive cycle because he feels bad for his behavior. Or, if he's in a manic cycle, he is so high energy and stimming off the walls. If that makes sense)

He started pushing against my body to rock him. And so, we rocked like that for a good 40 minutes. The crying became softer, and then stopped all together. I took a moment and I silently thanked God. Seeing your child in a major depressive cycle literally sucks all the life force out of you. I pray everyday that it will skip this season, and we won't have to watch our son in mental agony.

He asked for the Kindle, and we sat and played a few games together. We laughed. We giggled. I kissed his gorgeous forehead. He told me he was sorry. He told me he was sad because he was afraid he hurt my feelings, and he doesn't like to do that. I smiled and assured him that I too, (believe it or not) was a kid once. And I too, had been in a similar place with my parents. 

He handed me the Kindle, snuggled into my arms, and fell asleep. I left him like that for a bit. Staring at his peaceful face. Silently wondering, how I got so lucky as to be his mom. With all the struggles, the good days and the awful ones, I wouldn't trade this child, or my life with him, for anything in this world!





When Liam is going through a depressive cycle, this song always comes to mind.