Keeping Positive- yeah right.

This might be a bit of a downer so if you want something cheerful- feel free to skip this one.
Today is one of those days.

Last evening JD threw his dinner across the room twice because he wanted a Popsicle. Then to really get his demand across he hit, kicked, bit, and spit his food at me. In the midst of his outburst, I wondered- what if it's always like this? What if there aren't any improvements and we get stuck at a 3 year old level with significant behavioral issues? If at 3 he's this violent, what will the teen years look like? How the hell do I keep him from hurting me or the girls? He's getting real heavy for me as it is. I'm only 5'4" but my husband is 6'2". When I'm holding his arms and locking him in a hold while he thrashes and is having a spell, I'm holding 3 feet plus of almost 40 lbs of Anger. In a couple of years, I'm in trouble.

Yes, yes, I KNOW- it is what it is and we'll muddle through somehow, and there's always hope, blah, blah, blah. Give me a break. All the hope and prayers and all the other positive crap we believe isn't going to help me keep him or the girls safe from the rages now are they? What the hell is going on in their brains when they do these things? When he comes back from his road rage mental trip he apologizes and tells me he's scared and he's sorry. When these rages occur, he's not completely 100% with me and that hurts.

When he's self injurious, my heart bleeds. Seeing him slapping himself- that's worse than when he hurts me. I know there's a very big possibility that he'll always be self injurious regardless of how many therapies we take him to. I know I'll be there for him- but that doesn't mean I'll always be hopeful, positive, or even cheerful. Who the hell could be cheerful to have their baby hurt themselves or others for no apparent reason? Not unless it's someone well medicated or drunk. And that sure ain't me.

I read these blogs where people are angry at some of us Autism haters. Look folks, do I hate the people living with ASD? Don't be a jackass. Of course not. I love my son. Don't be even more insulting. Don't tell me what a freakin blessing Autism is. Don't ask me to look at the positives it has. Because from where I see it, from living with someone suffering with this freakin disease- there ain't nothing pretty, positive, or inspiration about the freaking disease. It sucks. Big time. And if you don't like school of thought then tough sh*t. In my house this is what ASD looks like when it gets bad. And I can't be accepting or positive about a disease that takes away my son's ability to not hurt himself or others. I can't accept or be positive about a disease that robs him of language that we are struggling to get back.

And I know we are lucky- lucky that he can speak and function as well as he does because I know there's always somebody else out there dealing with far more and far more severe. I am very much aware that we could perhaps regress more and lose what he's gained. From where I sit, there sure isn't anything pretty or hopeful about Autism. The only things that give me hope are the little bursts of sunshine I see shining through this dark cloud I like to call ASD. You know when he hugs and kisses me and tells me he loves me. When he runs and gets a toy for his crying sister. When he hugs and kisses his sisters. When he is able to speak in full sentences, when he's 100% with me and not in who knows where. I hope someday we get him to be present more often than not. I hope someday we can curtail the self injurious behaviors. I hope, really hope, that he can live on his own and be happy when he's older. But as quickly as thoughts of future days come, I need to push them away because its pure torture to think that far ahead. So let me say it again- I hate Autism. I hate the freakin disease. But I love a child that is living with ASD and I will always be his best advocate- even if it means I have to remain hopeful. Even on days I feel nothing but despair.