What a Day

Well, I was going to post about how sweet it was to dance (to Father Abraham) with my twins this morning. All three of us turning around and stamping our feet. Precious moments. Excuse the noise the teens were making. And excuse my weird outfit- my exercise skirt and a warm top.

But I’ve just had my hair pulled and been punched in the side of the face by my angry, screaming, crying twin and I don’t know why. I suspect she might be nauseous from antibiotics she’s on. Maybe. I found vomit on the floor in her room. But I’m guessing. And she spat the anti nausea tablet out.

I wish she could communicate.

Instead it’s screaming and screaming and I’m downloading a sensory video to try calm her down before she hurts herself. See, she hurt me when I stopped her hurting herself. She’s thrown herself down onto her back and was about to hang her head down.

I hate autism with a passion. I’m already at my wits’ end as it is even without the meltdowns. I truly can’t do this. If someone told me to choose between a wonderful autism friendly centre and my currently nonexistent AS treatment, I’d choose the centre any day.

Except I have no choice. No Centre and no AS treatment to choose between.

I feel so, so alone and so tired and so weary and so worried and so sad.

Did I mention I hate autism?

ETA- Well, someone did happen to ask how the children are at the wrong moment for her. She got an earful via text. Offloading helps even though there are no solutions.