Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Brief Twinge

G blows me a kiss, a sweet image to remember
"Will you please go away now?"  

No matter how many times I hear this from G, it still shoots a white hot pang through my heart, chokes up my throat, scalds my eyelids with tears.  Spoken with formality, a polite request emotionally devoid.  It doesn't take the edge off.  Instead it serves a cruel reminder of G's autism, his intense social skill deficiencies yet to be mastered.  Tonight we'd been reading Christmas books, G curled with me, head resting comfortably on my arm as I read the familiar favorites.  We shared a warm emotional bond, sweet and tender.  My guard fully vulnerable, thin skinned. When I tucked him in, I knelt next to his bed and laid my head on his pillow facing his to chat quietly a few moments.

Gong!  Buzzer!  Wrong!  Not this time, Mama!  I'd hit the limit, overstepped boundaries, wore out my welcome, became a nuisance.  

G's 'Will you please go away now?' might as well have been, 'Get away from me, ugly b?#ch!'.  Shock rocked my warm tender mood, delivered sleepless hours.

choose to recall our moments of bonding just moments before, erase one tiny moment that cancelled it all out like a bad check.  As autism parents, it's what we do.  Wipe out negativity, shake off our kids' physical tantrummy-on-mummy, their fight-or-flight screeching panic attacks. We push away their harsh words so hurtful to us.  We few, the proud warriors at the ready with fierce to-the-core love and protectiveness.  Advocates.  The tightrope we balance on is a shaky one, often frayed.  We must build a tough skin; but need the raw emotionalism to recognize their struggles, teach them healthy acceptable feelings, actions and expression.  We often overthink the tightrope.  We engineer a perfect scenario only to be chased by the unknown, running precariously over a pit of snakes.  Tripping, dangling at times; we always win.  Our payoff: a squeezy hug, fleeting eye contact, connection by humor, exuberant goal realized, an offering of melty chocolate from their sweaty palm.  

As a familiar saying goes, "It's not personal, it's business."
Alrighty then.  The business of Autism.  For it truly isn't personal to autistics.  It's their business of coping, communicating when zoning into themselves is the easier preferred path.  

Tomorrow I'll create a social story to make it a teachable moment.
For myself.