Life in an Autistic World - I

Curled up in the foetal position is my five-year-old son. He is softly crying.

“I want to be dead.” He means it. It is devastating when your baby falls into the black hole of depression. The paediatrician had warned us when he was only three-years-old to watch for the signs. Three? Shouldn’t a child be consumed by dreams of The Wiggles or even the dreaded Teletubbies? Not death and darkness.


I wander nearer to the prone figure on the floor. Sniff. Sniff again.


“Ooh, he’s starting to smell. Urrggh better put him in the compost before he stinks the house out. Oh no, the worms are coming, the worms are coming to eat his guts out”.


It is at this point his stricken face starts to change. Mouth quivers and corners begin to flicker upwards. Tears diminish. I look to his four-year-old brother. We are a tag team united in dissipating the black cloud engulfing the shape on the ground.


“Can you take the legs? He’s too big for me to carry him all by myself.”


“Mummy, do I have to touch him if he’s stinky?” Mischievous long lashed eyes peer at body at his feet. He knows this routine and joins in gleefully. Born performer or moulded by life?


“I’m not stinky! You’re stinky!” Crisis over. Giggles erupt as brothers war over who won the smelly championship.


I often ponder what happens when these special kids have mothers without humour. My warped sense of absurdity has been my most effective weapon in this battle against anxiety and despair. I thank God and my parents for encouraging my twisted quick wit. Another battle won. His angelic smile beams back at me, shadows forgotten. For the moment. Life in an Autistic world.

Life In An Autistic World is a series of short articles on how Boy 1's world collides with mine. A slightly humorous look at quirky everday life in the world of a family affected by ASD.
 
Madmother can also be found randomly ranting at Meaninless Meandering from a Madmother.