Ugh. I have had the worst past 24 hours ever. Truly.
Gabriel had a 2 hour full psychotic break last night—which was shocking since his medication has recently been increased. He lost his ever loving mind at my mom’s house during my dad’s birthday dinner. Not SPD, not Autism, but in a mental health-Bipolar kind of way. I literally was packing him up, raging, attempting to bite himself, trying to throw large rocks at me, kicking and struggling. He wouldn’t get in the car, he wouldn’t stop screaming. It was awful.
I told him we could go to the doctor, but that I wasn't sure what the doctor could/would do. He yelled back at me, "Ask him to KILL ME!"
I finally gave in and said, "What good would that do?" after spending a great deal of time and emotion telling him I was his mom, I protect him, and there was no way anyone would hurt him.
He responded, "If I was dead I wouldn't have fits anymore!!"
"Fits feel that bad?"
"YES!!! THEY DO!!! I want the doctor to KILL ME!"
"We are going to see a special doctor, in January, who is kind of an "expert" on meltdowns. He is a psychiatrist. His name, you are going to love this, is Dr. King. Pretty good, huh?"
He settled down long enough to look at me, and then at his lion. We like the word King. Good for me.
I assured him that Dr. King would help us. I only pray that is true.
Then the yelling, throwing himself around, pulling on his seat belt, and demanding to be killed started up again.
I worked on distraction all the way home.
My hubby is in Germany, so there was no relief at home. The meltdown lasted 2 hours including the 40 minute car ride in which I prayed for a police officer to pull me over so that I could ask him to follow me home and assist. Crazy as it sounds, it is true.
Gabe passed out last night in his room under a heavy blanket. Thank god. I was prepared to take him to the Emergency Room for hospitalization. I was scared.
I have to say that it was the first time that I could see he truly had no control over the meltdown--no stopping it and he wanted to stop it. No way to stop raging. It broke my heart.
I wake this morning to think that things are OK, until Gabe gets angry with me AGAIN because his shoes are in the van still (he wouldn’t wear them home last night) and then he locks us out of the van. Both sets of keys, and my purse, locked in the van.
I sent him to school, got a locksmith, and $50 later began getting Matthew ready to school while he was crying that he wanted to stay home. Who could blame him? We’d been through the emotional ringer the night before—I wanted home and comfort too.
On my way up to get clean socks for Matthew, I could smell that the water spill from two nights ago (from the humidifier because god knows we can’t all be healthy) has molded in his room. I can smell it clearly.
So now I am waiting for my dad to come up, so we can attempt to clean the carpets or worse case scenario pull them up and dry them (something I had to do when Matthew flooded my bathroom/hall/closet last year).
And my hubby called to ask me to remember to give him his wake up call in Germany.
All in a day’s work, right?