Back to life, back to reality...

I took Brett on his vacation at the beginning of August. We headed west to visit his Aunt ladies in beautiful San Jose, California...or my home away from home.  He was twitching with excitement in the Cleveland airport, and then the problems started. Our flight was delayed. Three different times. Some important things to know about Brett: he doesn't like to wait, and he doesn't like to be late. US Airways was 0 for 2. I asked the staff at the desk if we could have early boarding privileges due to his severe anxiety disorder and autism. To my surprise, they readily agreed and I didn't even need to pull out his doctors excuse. After waiting 2 hours, he decided to take things into his own hands, and yelled at the nice man who was working the desk. He said "Excuse me. We have a problem. We were supposed to leave in the daylight and look!" while pointing out the window. The nice man said "well, we DO have a problem, don't we? How about if I let you on the plane first?" That worked. Another thing about Brett: he loves to be first. When it was finally time to board, we were the first ones on the plane, ahead of first class. And, the kind man switched our seats so we could have a row to ourselves. After years and years of being treated like garbage and second class citizens this felt fantastic. Fortunately, our gate had entertainment that kept Brett entertained for hours.



While on vacation, Brett's wish was our command. We went to the Monterey Aquarium, to the beach (where he insisted on going in the water, despite me telling him the ocean would be COLD), and even stayed in a hotel with the most amazing view.



 By far, however, the BEST part of his vacation was the cupcake surprise. My sister placed a special order with Frost, a bakery that won Cupcake Wars. One dozen of his best friends, immortalized in cupcake icing. He was so excited when he saw them, he stopped breathing! So, thank you Flo, and thank you Ashley from Frost.



 



 

We had a fantastic time. Brett made a new little friend, who holds a very special place in the Aunt Ladies hearts. It took him a few days to warm up to her, but after awhile he let his protective walls down and welcomed her in...only to find her playing hard to get!  I watched in awe, mesmerized by the two of them and after a while, my face started to hurt from smiling for too long.  It was more painful than usual to leave after this trip. I feel like I fit in there more than I do here...



But, alas, it had to end. I had some vital things waiting for me at home.  Jordan had an upcoming psych appointment where we decided that his medications weren't working. At all. Despite the recent increase, he continued to be miserable 24 hours a day, which broke my heart. Every. Single. Day...
Before we can think about something new, he has to be clean of his current meds. Doc wanted to hospitalize him for three months while he detoxed. As a mother, that was something I wasn't willing to do. It's bad enough he can't express his feelings, and is completely dependent on me. There was no way I was separating from him like that, for that length of time. We agreed to do it at home, with Doc giving me a strong warning about how bad it was going to get. We are two weeks in, and have only made one slight decrease. He is miserable. He is already going through withdrawal, and he's only just begun. It is ugly. Painful. Heartbreaking. His anxiety and irritability have both skyrocketed. He tantrums all day. He is slapping and punching himself. He's punching walls, slamming doors, screaming, crying. Did I mention how miserable he is? I look in his eyes, and all I feel is pain. Not only his pain, but mine too. Pain that is a daily presence in my life because I cannot help him fast enough.  Pain because no matter how hard I try, I still lose my patience with him when he can't help himself. I'm struggling to be who he needs me to be, and I feel that I'm failing him.  I can only hope that he knows how much I love him, and that I will do anything for him, and that I am with him through this. Always.