Monday, April 12, 2010

The continuing story - someone new

One of those typical, what we call, autism days.

he complained from the first moment he saw me until late in the evening.
Making me feel like I tiptoed over sowing thread above a deep dark rocky valley.

He didn't know what to do.

There's enough for him to do at home, ranging from computering, using the WII, reading, helping in or around the house with chores, baking a cake or cookies, watching a movie, TV, etc etc.
But when his mind is on "replay" he can't get rid of the thoughts that he's planted in his mind.

Sometimes he has a hidden agenda, and it's for us to guess what he wants.
And for us to decide of we can pay for it.

I'm a very patient person. I've learned to be patient.
But today I didn't feel well. I could hardly speak, and the few words I said where like scratching an old needle over an even older LP.
I just wanted to sleep and get rid of the pain in my head and throat and the irritating bronchitis' cough.

But he didn't even care for a reply, because he didn't want to do anything at all.
He just complained.

After spending the whole evening on the couch, carefully monitoring the conversations going on, stepping between him and his dad to prevent outbreaks of emotions, he finally asked what he wanted: money to play WOW.

With hardly enough money on the bank and in the wallet to buy food for this month the answer was simple: and explanation and "no".

The angry outbreak was present, and he ran with lots of noise upstairs and sat there stamping his foot on the ground with all force he has. Which is a lot.

No, he isn't 2, nor 4. But almost 18.

So we're glad at one side the neighbours perfectly understand what we're going through with him, and the other side makes so much noise themselves that they can't complain without changing their way of living.

He knows that no is no, and not maybe or even a yes. It stays no.

Finally he came down and started to complain again, and I told him that maybe we should find a way to earn the money. Maybe selling a few books or games.
He quieted down.

His day wasn't as uneventful as he wanted to make his father belief.
This afternoon we got the news that his social worker has found someone who wants to spend 1 to 3 hours a week with him.
They'll see each other for the first time next monday, with his social worker and me present.
After that it's expected that they'll arrange meetings themselves. Talking, walking, whatever.

She can use him as a subject for her studies, and maybe he'll enjoy the time with her.
And maybe there are a few hours a week I can spend without him in the house.

We'll have to wait what's going to happen.
In the past we've often seen that he's unable to cope with the slightest change in his life, and leaving the house is to him a major change.

I can't imagine being able to sing without someone commenting on it, whether it's positive or negative. Or exercise some violin, or maybe burden the whole neighbourhood with my highland bagpipes.

It's like a whole new world is opening up with this young woman waiting to meet him.
He can be very nice.
I'm sure he'll be nice to her.
I hope he won't complain afterwards.
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