Our James was up for five and a half hours last night. Screaming. It is hard to think anything but that life really sucks. This week, James had been on a successful roll. He had been eating lunch with his class all week (with my help). Today he sobbed throughout lunch, eating and drinking nothing. Although his school days have had more ups than downs, this morning was full of inconsolable tears. The weather had been gorgeous and we were at the park every day, having fun. Today it is chilly and rainy. Today should be Friday the 13th.
Starting the night of February 26th (Dad's birthday where we stupidly drank two bottles of champagne), James began waking up, screaming, every night. I mean blood curdling - call the police - screaming in the middle of the night. For hours. It wasn't night terrors. He was awake and nothing soothed him. It wasn't dietary changes or constipation. He wasn't sick but did something hurt? Nightmares? Who the hell knows. We just muddled through. When it abruptly stopped last Friday, we convinced ourselves it was a phase. The rationalization that the human mind is capable of, is amazing. Although, on our part, I think it is self-preservation. I can't even comprehend that this is our life, for the rest of our life. And when we die, our kid is will scream and yell and self-stimulate to his hearts content and disappear into his autistic world. Just another sub-human retard for some self-obsessed and bored aide to drag around and leave on a bus. Just another guinnea pig to try the latest untested research/drug on. James is a smart, gorgeous, caring, little boy who loves to play and have fun. I don't know why or what stops him. We have to try harder to pull him out, so he can be independent, before we aren't around to communicate to the world for him anymore. Before he isn't a cute little boy with energetic young therapists and teachers who really want to and believe they can help him. I know, I know, count my blessings. I just have to stop being short and sniping at my blessings first.
