Tired of ASD.

The last few days have been tough. I'm noticing a fade in my resilience. Feeling worn down by the inescapable requirements of a child who has special needs and also demands relentless attention. Unlike many children on the spectrum who are happy to engage in solitary play Harri is a sensory seeker. He has worked out that people are useful to this end, and the most effective way to get immediate attention is by destructive means. Have I reinforced this behaviour by reacting when he slams doors, smashes glasses and plates, pulls plants out of the garden, swings pictures on walls, pulls piles of books off book shelves, draws on walls, constantly turns the oven on, tips all his puzzles onto the floor and so on? You bet I have. It is difficult not to react to these behaviours. It's also hard to maintain a philosophical approach when attempts to ignore, as you are instructed, fail.

My most peaceful daily moments are when Harri is engaged by his therapists. Of course this still requires me as the audience. Observing his sessions in order to follow through at home. Consistency and generalisation are key to progress after all. Then there's the constant negotiation in the shops, in the car, dropping off and picking up his sister at school. Chasing him, never being able to take my eyes off him because he runs, constantly having to be aware. The hyper vigilance is exhausting.

There are some evenings I watch the clock, counting the minutes down til his bedtime. Then I can forget Autism for a couple of hours. Kind of. There are some who claim that parents should not make Autism about them, because it is really about the child and their lived experience, and I have some sympathy for that position. But raising Harri has impacted my emotional and physical well being. There is some residual post traumatic stress left over from his screaming baby days. I bet I'm not alone in that.

But for now I'm tired. Tired of being woken through the night by his nocturnal shenanigans. I'm also tired of being anxious about my child. Of worrying about his future. Of feeling guilty because my patience with him is wearing thin. Of allowing myself thoughts of self pity. And resentment of those who are audacious enough to judge me without knowing anything of raising a child like Harri.

These feelings, as they always do, will pass soon enough. In the meantime I'll fester in the ASD doldrums.