Living with autism: year 33
Note to readers: I did not kill my child today. I did not kill her all this week. I deserve a medal, or a vacation, or at least the richest chocolate cake on earth. (Mainly, because I couldn't figure out how to dispose of the body, and I didn't have time anyway.)
Living with autism....call this living?....is not for the faint of heart. It's perpetual two-year-old cum adolescence.
When "helpful" people try to fill the PDD-NOS brain with ideas that cannot be understood safely, trouble results. Like wandering away unattended and getting picked up by the fire department and stuffed in an ambulance and carted to the ER because some concerned passer-by wondered what the crazy woman mumbling to herself was doing all alone...
Like screaming at the person who is trying to get food on the table after a hard day's work because ice cream, trips to the library or shopping, or a movie are not instantly forthcoming or promised....
Like raiding the freezer at night, leaving the door open and letting the ice cream melt all over the freezer and floor.
That kind of week. One in a series....
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