I wake up in the morning terrified. My heart races and I feel nauseated.
Will he be in a good mood? How long will it take me to get him to urinate and wash his hands? The fastest it has been is five minutes, the most it has taken is forty five minutes. Will I stay calm? Will I get some breakfast into him before he has to take his medicine? Will the eggs be hot enough? Will the waffle be crispy enough? Will something set him off? Will we make it on time to school today - four days a week we don't. Will I be a good and patient mom. Trust me, some mornings I'm not.
The last few nights he hasn't been sleeping well and neither have I. I'm going through a flare up right now - and I'm in incredible pain. I don't complain about it....I just try to deal with it. Pain has been my life for thirty years now - that isn't a "pity me" statement - it is a fact. I have a high tolerance for it - but this week it has been bad.
Earlier this week a crown broke - not one of the ones I wear during dress up - but one of those that live in my mouth. Waiting for a dentist to call back is annoying. Teeth have always been a worry for me. I want to keep my teeth in my mouth. My mother kept her's in a glass in the cupboard. My father did too. I want empty glasses in my cupboard.
Last night was a particularly bad night - he is so anxious about this game he is playing. We cut games completely and now they have eased back into his life. When there are no friends around -- and I've exhausted all avenues - I have to let the child have something. It's Clash of Clans or something like that. He wants to join a "cool clan" - don't we all? He wants to partake in clan wars. He wants people to join his clan. We put him to bed at 8:15 and I went up at 9:30 and he was still awake. He was whimpering. "Help me with my problem, mommy."
I asked him what his problem was. He wants to join a cool clan and they are all full. We talked for thirty minutes. He was still up at 10:15.
Before 5 a.m. he came into our bed and I hurry and got him back to his bed and stayed with him. At 7 a.m. I got up and Andrew went back to our bed. Jim was showering. From 7:30 until 8:05 -- I tried to wake him up. He wouldn't budge. The anxiety he lives with over the most inane things wipes him out. I got him out of bed at 8:10 - and it took feats of strength to do that.
I made eggs and sourdough toast - and played Jeff Buckley's version of Hallelujah and that calmed him. While I went to get his clothes and get dressed to take him to school - he had made his way upstairs to check out his game.
He was hysterical -- "They started the clan wars - they started the clan wars - in the middle of the night -they started them." I told him that this was enough of that game - that it wasn't for him. He screamed "I fucking hate you" and tried to hit me. I started to cry. I'm tired. I'm weak. I live clan wars every day.
It took another fifteen minutes after I pulled myself together - to pull him together. I got him from red to yellow. I got him dressed - we left. We signed into school - late again.
He has been doing great things at school. He is in the 99th percentile in the nation for math. He is in fourth grade and at an eight grade level. He is above superior in his IQ -- the psychologist told us yesterday that it would have been a higher rating if his autism didn't get in his way - his flapping, pacing and attention- if it is something he is not interested in - or if he just wants to get it over with - he guesses - or skips the question. They are doing great things for him - speech groups and counseling groups.
Every morning - I wonder how I can make it through another morning....by the time I pick him up at lunch his meds are in and he's in a good place. When we go to sleep -- I worry about the morning. I know I will get through the war - if the daily battles don't kill me.