#selfinjuriousbehavior

Self Injurious Behavior is different for everyone, especially those on the autism spectrum.  When someone says Self Injurious Behavior or SIB, immediately the thoughts that rush through alot of people’s heads is that of cutting or self harm of that nature.

Most of the SIB we deal with is head banging, face slapping, hand biting.  Maxwell’s bridge of his nose has a permanent bump almost appears as if the nose was broke, this was a new behavior that he developed.

Why do they do it?  Well many reasons, sensory overload, change, frustration.

Change is another thing that is so damn hard.  They keep to a strict schedule at the group home, however,  as best as I do to keep similar schedule here.  I have uprooted him from his rigidness, what he knows, what he is comfortable with.  He was doing okay, but today the SIB was almost non stop.  It’s more than constant redirection, its basically you spending all of your time making sure your kid doesn’t kick his own ass.

A few people have asked us to visit them with Maxwell this holiday…or they want to come here.  I can’t put Maxwell in that position of stressing him out even more.    Oh but you have to introduce your kid to new experiences or he will never get used to it.  Let me tell you this isn’t my first rodeo.  I have 4 boys, three have autism, Maxwell just happens to be the most severe.

I think I stopped blogging for a bit because I can’t believe some of the crap people complain about…. Their reality Amy, their problems….it is okay that they complain about stuff that they do.  Amy, you are complaining right now…..complaining about complainers…When these people come up to me to complain about their stuff though, I listen but often my mind drifts to my son in jail, my other son in a group home and my other two sons at home struggling with autism one dealing with chronic health issues, the other an almost 21 year old who is struggling to find work and he doesn’t get disability.   My mind drifts to my mortgage that I am behind in, how the final notice came for the electric bill…how will I rob Peter to pay Paul this month? I also struggle with people who tell me they completely understand, when they aren’t in my shoes and dealing with what I am dealing with.  I struggle with the people that tilt their head to the side and give me an,”awhhhh how do you do it?”  I don’t want pity, I do want people to understand what my reality is, and though its different than yours, it is very real to me.   It doesn’t make me think I am worse off or having it harder, I am not saying my situation is worse than yours, I am just telling you my reality.  My reality will be very different from yours.  Your ability to perceive my reality is not simply based on empathy but understanding as well.  I have set some personal goals for myself this upcoming year, I intend by this time next year, working one or less jobs.  Maybe just work one job.  That would be a dream.  

I think another reason I stopped blogging for awhile mainly because with everything that was going on with Trevor I didn’t know what to say.  Last night when he called, he expressed how sad and disappointed he was that I didn’t come up to see him on Christmas day.  I am fighting a bad cold and only have Maxwell here for a few days…I really couldn’t. It’s not like it is just around the corner its about 40 minutes away.  When he gets to his eventual program he will be roughly 3 hours away.   I don’t really feel like I need to make excuses.  The last time I visited him, there was a mom next to me, crying profusely about how it was her fault.  That is not me, I know it is not my fault and I did try to get him multiple avenues of help.  I have told him if he gets his education and remains sober he can have a place when he gets out.  He is capable, I know he can do this.  I just want him to want it.  I want him to believe he is worth it too.

Anxiety is big, debilitating at times, but my belief that I can manage it is bigger.

keep searching, unabashed.

I will continue to hope, I will continue to climb the rock wall of life, barefoot, covered in baby oil.

-Amy

 

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