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.

Psychic Chemotherapy

So I am reading an old but beloved book. I adore it. I read it almost every year because I enjoy it so much. I have read it at least 10 times, and this particular quote never stood out to me...... Until now.

When I came upon this quote (Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz page 134) I stopped. Not my normal stop. (by that I mean, when I'm stressed or over tired, my OCD tells me I must read certain sentences 4 times. It sucks, and sometimes takes me forever to get through a book.) I digress. I stopped. This time I reread the sentence because it was resonating in my heart, NOT because my brain was being a jerk and messing with me.

Then it hit me. When Liam has his manic/depressive episodes, I don't write. I have to force myself to get on facebook. For a few reasons I guess. 

One of which is, I shut myself off from the world. We exist in our own tumultuous vortex and leaving it at times like that is like, trying to free yourself from the grips of an F5 tornado.

Another reason is, though I love reading how my friends and family are doing, and I love seeing the fun times you're enjoying; when we are in that vortex, I don't want to see your happiness and sunshine. It makes our Hell seem much more harsh and cruel.

Not until the last time did I actually go on ALFL and ask for prayers. And something much more profound happened. YOU all reached out to ME, and you made the hurt, hurt a little less. Still, I couldn't bring myself to write about what was happening. I couldn't blog about it. I couldn't really even go into detail in a status update....

Up until I read that passage from Odd Thomas, I thought I was avoiding my blog because I didn't want to have to relive those tragic days. It was then that I realized, I was wrong. YES Pita, I said I was wrong.

And where I was wrong, Little Ozzie (well actually Dean Koontz since LO is fictional) was right. I know this because, when I was finally able to blog about Liam's manic/depressive episode, when I finally let it all out, it was like a weight was lifted from my shoulders.

I was no longer carrying that sad journey in my own heart. I opened up, and I shared it with the world. And it was enlightening!

NEVER again will I avoid my blog in a time of need. My blog is here to cleanse my body and mind from  "psychological tumors." All the cruel happenings of this world. From all the wrongs. All the not fairs, and all the what ifs.

My best advice as a special needs mother?

Find an outlet. For you. For your child. Blog, write poetry, paint, sketch, compose music. It doesn't matter how you do it, what matters is that YOU DO IT.

You release the negative and your heart will feel so light!

Thanks Dean Koontz for putting my epiphany into such meaningful words!

<3 <3 <3 <3

Stifle

Those that follow us on Facebook know that a few months ago Liam was almost hospitalized. Thankfully he wasn't, but it was close.

Afterwards we got him in to see a child psychiatrist whom diagnosed him as Bipolar, ODD, OCD tendencies and Anxiety. All of this on top of Autism, ADHD, and SPD.

This was a very hard time for him, and for us as his parents. I still haven't let myself fully absorb the feelings associated with his depressive episode. I can't. I just can't.

Last night Liam was sitting on my lap, rare for him now that he is getting older. I was thinking about other families I know, who have recently had to hospitalize their autistic children. The flood of memories from Liam's episode became so grandiose I couldn't contain them.

These words were flowing through my mind, so I quickly typed them into my phone so I could remember them today.

Stifle

I stifle the feelings,
The memories, the thoughts.
I think of his courage.
How hard he had fought.

I couldn't give in.
I couldn't shed tears.
He needed my strength
To conquer his fears.

Feeling so helpless, useless, alone.
I shut down my mind.
My heart like a stone.

Still I stifle.
I push away the pain.
I bury the memories;
The heartbreak, the disdain.

I'm afraid to give in.
Afraid to feel.
I fear recurrence.
I fear he won't heal.

Just one little boy.
How much can he take?
How much can he bear?
How long til he breaks?

I stifle my breath.
I mutter a prayer.
I stifle the pain,
Layer by layer.

~Courtney B

My childhood therapist was right. It feels good to get that out. Even if it is in the form of poetry. The release is enlightening.
                                                              <3 <3 <3 <3