I know from the moment she gets up today, it is going to be a dark
day. Even though we had a great day yesterday, visited with friends and she
slept beautifully, the angry grunting and growling has given me my cue. I take
her to the bathroom in silence taking off her nighttime diaper that we did not
need a few short weeks ago, and put her in panties. That's how it goes with
Autism two steps forward, one step back.
I bring her out to the living room, turning on her favorite cartoon
on low. I crush her anti-anxiety medicine and Autism medicine to a pulp and add
it to a glass of warm milk. When I walk back in she grabs it greedily from my
hand; no thank you today, even though her manners are usually flawless. I don't
push it, not today. I make it back to the kitchen make coffee and start
scrambling her eggs; I still hear the occasional grunt and growl. I ignore it,
long ago I learned that days like this my voice or any extra noise only annoys
her further. I bring her eggs in and set them on her table. I don't even watch
to see if she goes for them, I exit back to the kitchen. Looking over my list
of to-do things for the day. I scratch off almost everything, realizing we are
not leaving the house today and probably not even going outside because of the
snow lightly floating down. I look over and realize with a sigh, despite her
being aggravated today, I have to get some wash done. My laundry room is right
next to the kitchen and my daughter hates the sound of the washer and dryer
running. They are top of the line front loaders that I bought mostly for their
quiet running cycles, although they still bother her, they are way better than
the ones I had before.
I hear a clang and bang that I am familiar with; my child has thrown
her bowl of eggs. I walk into see; she actually ate the eggs before flinging
the bowl. I pick it up and send her to her room; time-out is the only
punishment I doll out. I don't even raise my voice, instead I whisper and say
"to your room for throwing the bowl, that's not nice. You can come out
when you have stopped crying and get control of yourself." She is throwing
a tantrum and extremely angry with me, but she moves her butt and slams her
bedroom door for good measure.
I make a second cup of coffee and sigh, as I take out my first load
to fold out of the dryer. I think to myself about how restrained I am now, and
how calculating and strategic I have become at this strange game we play. Dark
days are caused not only by Autism, but Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) and
Anxiety & Panic Disorder. My child has this disastrous combination of a
diagnosis. Today, I blame less on Autism and more on SPD; it's almost as if
even the lights bother her today. The rumble of the furnace going on and off,
the ringing of the telephone...ever little thing can make today worse on her.
When she is feeling better, she has told me that dark days feel like
her ears are going to explode and everything she hears sounds like screeching
tires in her ears and on top of all that, her stomach aches and she is nauseous
and her head pounds. That's a beautiful thing about my child she is verbal;
silent to the age of three my child talks almost nonstop most days. She is very
good at describing how she is feeling, when she is not stuck on repeat and
talking in circles.
Today will go like many before us, I will stay silent most of the
day. I will take great care to not make unnecessary noise or walk by her swiftly.
I have learned passing her too fast can cause her to lash out at me, she says I
whoosh by her and it scares her. I start putting away clothing in the drawers
in nice neat stacks and I smile. Today I will get a chance to sit down and read
a book, even though she is angry today, she does not want to be alone. She
enjoys the company. So I sit on the couch and pick up my kindle. I will get
lost in a romantic comedy and sit on my side of the couch. She flops her body
next to me and leans against me. I lightly wrap my arm around her and squeeze
her shoulder whispering, "I love you GG." She does not say anything
back, but she is not growling or grunting at me. I smile because I have played
the game well today, my girl has had time to calm down, and the medicine has
started to work.
I look outside at the dark cloudy sky and see the snow falling and I
smile. Years ago this day would have been a nightmare, I would be raising my
voice trying to control her actions and she would be raging right back at me. I
would probably end up hurt and my house would be wrecked throwing me into a
deep depression. I think of how far we have come, how therapy and instruction
from her Occupational therapist has made today better. I learned what I can do
and how to relax because I know the game plan.
Today is a dark day literally and figuratively. I know just as the
ground outside needs moisture and the day can use less sun, my child can also
benefit from a down day. I know tomorrow will bring the sun and melt away a bit
of the snow that has stuck to the frozen ground. Tomorrow my child's nerves
will thaw and grunts and grows will make way for smiles and giggles. Tomorrow I
will get Thank You's, and she will speak to me excitedly. She will happily
climb up on the counter to help me stir her eggs, she will sloppily poor half
of my coffee into her glass and act like a big girl sipping coffee with me as
we share breakfast and decide what to do and where we will go.
I know what tomorrow will bring, so I can smile and accept today.
Not reading anymore into it, than what it is. A down dark day, and I am finally
okay with it.
