I have a child, a beautiful child. He has only just turned eleven and has been the funny, smart light of my life in the darkest hours. His compassion for his brother has been amazing, as has his tolerance. Until now.
This morning we are rushing to an emergency psych consultation for my second son. Not my first born Aspie, but my youngest... the one that was meant to be easier, happier, less troubled. We are having a tough time lately, my Mum is very sick, our business has suffered and teetered on the brink of closure due to the financial crisis, my oldest is hitting puberty, and I, myself, am experiencing the start of menopause. Whilst the family has been tested I can honestly say the love has not wavered. But maybe the attention has.
He is angry, seriously angry. Boiling over at the most minute things, hairbreath temper trigger. He is threatening to kill himself, and others. He tried to impale a ruler into his larynx a school, he makes threatening gestures to his friends, and at a birthday party this last weekend he told them all he was going to buy a gun and kill them all... and himself.
The really scary part is that he takes no ownership of this anger, these threats. It is always someone else's fault for not doing what he wants, for causing his reaction. We are at a loss, the school is concerned and powerless, friends shake their heads in disbelief.
I am pinning my hopes on this professional man and his history of helping my sons. If he cannot then I do not know where to turn, or what to do. I am scared. Really scared.
This was meant to be my easy child...