Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Day in the Life of an Autistic Mom
Having a daughter who is autistic and another daughter who has Aspergers makes life interesting, difficult, humorous and downright scary.
Lately my 22 yr. old has stayed 'pretty' calm but occasionally she breaks into spurts of anger. She is not on prescribed meds; in fact I have spent many hours researching and taking courses to be sure to keep her off of those type of meds.
We discovered that my sweet girl may have the beginnings of becoming bipolar. Certain foods and supplements tend to make a bipolar aggressive and that is certainly is Jess' case. Bananas, pickles, lunch meat and the sleep supplement Melatonin will make become very aggressive even to a point of violence. That is not good in someone with a 5th grade mentality and the build of a member of the WNBA.
My girls both live in the world of the Autism Spectrum Disorder but are quite different. Jess' internal clock is so off that she rests most of the day to come alive at night. While my Aly, my 19 year old, has a normal sleep schedule and therefore cannot sleep due to thin walls and a sister who loves to dance and sing as loud as possible. This eventually lead baby sister either sleeping in the recliner or sleeping with me (when her father magnanimously sacrifices his side for previously mention recliner).
This type of life makes it difficult to have adult friendships. After more than just a few dinner declines and the slow disappearance of the few friends that we did have, you learn that this is your life. So I've substituted the lack of one-on-one adult conversation to cross-stitch, writing, or blogging I should say, and the contact of social media friends that I have never met nor is it likely that I ever will.
Hence this is my world. Somewhat lonely especially since I am an older parent who is disabled. But I never think it's boring because, if there is one thing you can say for Autism and the Spectrum Disorder, it is never boring. It may be havoc. It may be loud but never boring.
Part Three How she hated being the odd man out; the who one who always knew they were talking about her yet but their eyes, their man...