Off The Beaten Track

Posted on June 19, 2013 by

autumn-forest2On the outskirts of a quiet little village in south-east England there lies a medieval farmhouse set in extensive grounds. It was once a derelict wreck with a tree growing straight through the roof; you couldn’t even see the condition of the facade for the assembled six foot high weeds growing around the structure.

However, somebody saw the potential of the building, bought it and began to restore it to its former glory.

This is no ordinary farmhouse. This farmhouse belongs to D’s Mother and Stepfather. For the sake of their privacy I will not name them, and they politely request that photographs of the restored interior are not to be published anywhere online.

Now please, follow me down the driveway and into a magical world that few are lucky enough to visit… Continue reading →

Posted in 2013, Beauty, Caring For Feathered Friends, Family, In-Laws, Magic, Nature, Tranquility, Wicca | 9 Comments

An Open Letter To My Son

Posted on June 18, 2013 by

R: The Stealer Of Hats

R: The Stealer Of Hats

My dear Rhys; my beautiful son,

I hope that, one day, you will understand and that you will forgive me. You won’t understand why I kept falling over and “going to sleep”. You will also not understand why I had to take extreme measures in order to keep you safe when you suffered a meltdown. Given the age that you were, I can understand why you thought I was deliberately trying to harm you as opposed to protecting you from harm. I am so sorry Rhys; I was doing what I needed to do in order to protect you, and there was no way to convey that to you. That is not your fault, and I think you possibly understood a little bit anyway. You have never seemed to hate or be afraid of me.

I adored you from the moment that you were born. I remember us being wheeled onto the maternity ward after your birth, and you staring out at me from what was commonly known as “The Fishtank”. Such inquisitive eyes, you had – your eyes showed that you have been here before. There was some kind of ancient knowledge within you – and I could feel it.

My sweet boy. My beautiful boy. It broke my heart when I sent you to a foster carer, but what else could I do? It was only fair that you were sent to a carer who could deal with your autism without them falling over and having seizures in the same manner that I do. How could I possibly inflict my difficult life on you when yours was even harder? Rhys… I couldn’t! I loved you too much to let that happen. I still do.

Everybody tried so hard to keep you safe and happy. What you are facing now is something that your loved ones knew to be inevitable – but also something that we all tried to hold off for as long as possible. What you are enduring now could not be prevented, but we did our best to keep this from happening to you for as long as we possibly could.

My Rhys, my Gremlin, my beloved baby boy. I embrace your beautiful soul… but I am unable to embrace what your autism has done to you. I know that you are frustrated, confused, unhappy and angry, and if I could take it from you? My gorgeous little man; I would take it from you in a heartbeat so that you could live, laugh and love in the way that so many people take for granted. Being able to sit and have a conversation with you would be everybody’s dearest wish – but instead we all have to watch you struggle with words and the inability to convey emotions. Rhys, it breaks all of our hearts; not just mine.

I do not want you, my beloved son, to be in that hospital. However, I do want for you to have a full diagnosis and the right help and support. You are in the best place, my love, and I need for you to know that your Nana, your Auntie and your Mummy and Step-dad are all rooting for you.

You are “Nana’s Handsome” and “Mummy’s Gremlin”, remember? We love you, my little man, and we will never stop loving you. Your happiness and the quality of your care are absolutely paramount to us.

I love you, you handsome green eyed smiling boy. I always have done and I always will. I hope that you can understand that.

Love,

Mummy xxx

 

 

Posted in 2013, Autism, Autistic Temperament, Emotional Pain, Family, Health | 6 Comments

Yatta!

Posted on June 14, 2013 by

YATTA!

YATTA!

Translation: I did it!

And what better picture than a delighted Hiro Nakamura to express my happiness?

This week has been seriously rough on me, what with my autistic son being transferred and sectioned to a young adult facility and having to be restrained during transport. D and I have both agreed that R needs to settle and get into a routine before we visit, but we know where he is and how to get there.

Incidentally, the above is not something I’m happy about in any way, shape or form. I know that this is the right thing for my son, but I don’t actually have to like it. I don’t want to dig into this topic too deeply at the moment, so my talk about my son stops here.

Good things have been happening as well though. For a start, I was contacted by an epilepsy charity from Hong Kong, asking me to contribute a few lines to a book that they’re writing. I never expected my humble little blog to reach so far! It has though, and I submitted what I wanted to say earlier this evening.

I am also an actual journalist now, thanks to a heads-up from Paula Acton. She happened to inform me that WhatCulture were searching for writers who are knowledgeable on the subject of Doctor Who. I honestly didn’t think they would accept me, but they did! My first published article went live last night here and it’s had a lot of hits! They seem to want me to write exclusively about Doctor Who though; I think I might need to pitch some other ideas to the editors.

I’m not getting paid for this gig and I still haven’t thought of anything to write that has nothing to do with The Doctor, but I’m glad to have the opportunity of putting this on a future CV and possibly landing a job at the local paper!

If I’m never well enough to work again though… I have something that I love and I don’t need to be paid for it.

Posted in 2013, A Madman With A Box, Adapting, Adventures, Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life, Aspirations, Blogging, Doctor Who, Journalism | 11 Comments

A Street Cat Named Bob

Posted on June 8, 2013 by

BobSynopsis: The true story of one man and his cat. James Bowen discovered the injured ginger tom just inside the entrance to his sheltered housing block. A lonely busker who had spent ten years on the streets and was nursing himself back to health from heroin addiction, James took the cat in and nursed him with antibiotics, water, food and a lot of help from The Blue Cross. The cat recovered and James expected him to wander back onto the streets, but “Bob” never left. He didn’t know it at the time, but Bob was going to be a turning point in James’ life.

I have just finished reading this inspiring tale of a busker attempting to put his drug addiction behind him and put his life back together. By turns, the adventures of James and “Big Issue” Bob are amusing, thought-provoking and thoroughly harrowing, proving only that you always win if you don’t give up the fight. When Bob appeared in his life James was already working his way back up from the very depths of despair – finally having a permanent residence to call his own and beating the heroin addiction with Methadone.

James Bowen and Bob, Q&A

James Bowen and Bob, courtesy of Google

A man and a cat, meeting in a seeming coincidence, both with the same desire for love, nurture and healing. Two soulmates finding each other in their time of desperate need.

A Street Cat Named Bob is far more than just a cleverly thought-up title for a book. The book itself is spellbinding, inspiring and designed to offer hope and encouragement to anybody who reads it when they find themselves in a dark place. I have briefly chatted with James on Facebook and he is a lovely, warmhearted man who deserves a standing ovation for everything that he’s achieved in the last few years; a stable home, getting clean, reuniting with family…

And all because of a stray ginger tom cat landing on his doorstep.

I give this book 10/10 rosy stars.

James Bowen – and Bob! – can be found on Facebook as James Bowen & Street Cat Bob, and also on Twitter as @streetcatbob. They can also be found busking and signing books around the streets of London, as well as on Youtube.

Posted in A Street Cat Named Bob, Accomplishments, Adapting, Addiction, Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life, Angels In Disguise, Animals, Big Issue Magazine, Book, Busking, Choose Life, Facebook, Fight For Your Rights, Hope, James Bowen | 14 Comments

Introspection

Posted on May 31, 2013 by

Salvador Dali: Journey Of The Peaceful Sun

Salvador Dali: Journey Of The Peaceful Sun

Since the sectioning of my son I seem to have retreated into myself a little bit. Emails have not been responded to – if they were ever looked at – and blogs have gone unvisited. I’ve been communicating mostly via Facebook and occasionally on Twitter, but I needed to be alone with my husband and my thoughts.

There is an awful lot whirling through my poor, seizure-battered brain at the moment and for a while there it was all a jumble of nonsensical horror; it’s as though I’ve been trapped inside one of those claustrophobic “Fun Houses” with no way out. Every turn, there have been those terrifyingly distorting mirrors and recorded maniacal laughter ringing deafeningly in my overly sensitive ears. Ugly painted puppets popping up in my face and screeching at me while the floors undulate and creak beneath my feet.

fun house COLORIt’s difficult to explain exactly why a brain such as mine – a brain that enjoys the macabre, the dark, the interesting and outright twisted from sheer fascination and a love of trying to put together the meaning, the “bigger picture”, of what I’m looking at – could ever feel the need to retreat when dark things encroach on me too closely. Perhaps it’s something to do with whether I’m choosing to view them and experience them or not.

This time the darkness found me – us, our little family – and it wasn’t at all welcome.

I’ve been feeling as though I am cracking up. I’ve shed more tears than I believed any one human could have inside them. I have suffered countless meltdowns and panic attacks since the news of my son reached my ears.

Doctors have been seen, and SSRI doses have been increased. Even my epilepsy medication has been changed from Lacosamide to Phenytoin – an older drug – to try to stabilise my moods and the resulting seizures. My poor, wonderful D has been working overtime for me; running errands when I’m in no state to leave the house and making sure that I have everything that I could possibly want or need to hand. He has held me, fed me, bathed me and continuously loved me during this terrible time and for that I am astoundingly grateful. I am blessed indeed to have such love in my life and in my heart. So much support from both D’s family and my own, and also from friends who have gone out of their way to reach me digitally when they can’t reach me physically.

My head is beginning to straighten itself out a little now. I am, of course, still worried to death about R, but I realise that I have to keep my spoons about me for him – no matter what. If that entails drugging myself to the eyeballs in a bid to remain almost-sane then so be it.

As my Nan always said during darker days, “This too shall pass”. In the meantime I need to keep a level head and try to keep calm, but it’s so hard. In less than a month my father has suffered a stroke and my son has been put on a psychiatric ward; I have come as close to a nervous breakdown as possible without actually having one.

But there are still the good times. I enjoy my Book Club, love my WI (and our organiser has been very sympathetic and understanding) and I have a local MP on his toes concerning a specific issue that is important to me (which would be the right for gay couples to marry; I see no reason whatsoever as to why they shouldn’t). One of my cousins and an old school friend might just have answers to their medical issues thanks to me and I’ve been out in the garden with a book a few times during the recent warmer weather.

And when you wander downstairs of a morning to a husband who says “I’m sorry I forgot to hug you when I got up this morning – my brain was full of programming stuff” when he knows you weren’t even awake to notice? You know that you have it all, come hell or high water.

Posted in 2013, About The Carer, Adapting, Anxiety, Autism, Autistic Behaviours, Autistic Meltdown, Depression, Epilepsy, Facebook, Family, Friends, Health, Heightened Awareness, Hyperacusis, I Love Autism Kids, Love, Marriage, My Son, Neurological, Not A Supermarket Tomato, Proud Parent Of An Autistic Child, Proud To Be Autistic, Proud To Be Me, Psychological, Reading, Real Life Horror, Sensory Overload, Social Anxiety, Strength, The Black Dog, The Dark Side Of Autism, Vulnerability, Women's Institute | 8 Comments

Guest Post: The Name of the Doctor Review

Posted on May 27, 2013 by

I have re-watched this episode three times and even now I am not sure that this review can possibly do justice to what I saw on the screen. Yes. The Name of The Doctor was that audacious, that mind blowing, that earth shattering. It rarely happens that the press hype is actually met on a TV show. My imagination always comes up with something better, more interesting. The problem is, people say that their stuff is going to be gamechanging and the term has gotten to seem more than a little bit cliche. I should have known Steven Moffat would pull off something as crazy as this though. I mean, this is the guy who wrote the mind bender that was The Wedding of River Song.

A synopsis for those still confused? The Doctor goes to the one place he must never go, the one place he fears above all; Trenzalore and his grave. But as his friends are kidnapped he has no choice but to journey to the burnt out husk that is his TARDISY tomb and do battle with Doctor Simeon and The Great Intelligence one last time. Potentially mind blowing stuff.

And this time the mind blowing happened in the first five minutes. So I was right, you guys! Well sort of anyway. Clara is fractured throughout time and space. She is also a perfectly ordinary girl. “You know what? Run you clever boy, and remember… me.” I got shivers down my spine. Only, who could possibly have guessed that Moffat would dare to take Clara that far back in time and space. I admit it, the second that the first doctor appeared with Susan I let out a squeal of excited happiness. Christmas had come a good six months early. And then we get another fling with Madame Vastra, Jenny and Strax (spin off, spin off, spin off) and some creepy rhyming couplets;

Do you hear the whispermen
The whispermen are near
If you hear the whispermen then turn away your ear
Do not hear the whispermen
Whatever else you do
For if you hear the whispermen
They’ll stop and look at you.

Can I just say how much I enjoyed the whole seance as a method of getting The Doctor’s friends in one place? Brilliant. Simply brilliant. Jenna Louise Coleman was wonderful in the scene with the candle as she dropped it in fright and disgust. Madame Vastra’s dry tone was also hilarious as she told Clara and the audience that the letter was infused with soporific. And then we had the return of River Song. And Moffat kept on giving because he didn’t do what I feared above all else and retcon the library two parter. I grinned from ear to ear when River declared that she had summoned her flute of champagne, “disgracefully.”

Wait, did I mention the acting? Matt Smith was a revelation this episode. When Clara first tells him of the message, watch Matt’s face. It’s a wonderful moment in an episode full of wonderful moments. And if that doesn’t convince you, what about The Doctor as he finally sees River, the data ghost of his dead wife, and kisses her with all of the passion that their relationship has ignited past, present and – dare I wish it? – future. Their final farewell tore my heart into thousands of shreds. I think I should stop gushing while I’m ahead, but that final ‘sweetie’ and ‘spoilers’ felt like icing on an already delicious cake.

And then there was Madame Vastra and Jenny. Jenny’s “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I think I’ve been murdered,” was one of the most chilling Who lines we’ve heard in ages. Steven Moffat is good at dialogue. In general, I think that the quality of the dialogue in Who has gone up since he has taken over as showrunner. Who could go past this wise gem of a quote:

Strax: The heart is a relatively simple thing.
Madame Vastra: I have not found it to be so.

Yes, Richard E Grant’s Doctor Simeon did little but pout and sport a stiff upper lip before a swift demise via The Doctor’s bleeding gash of a time line. Yes, this entire finale is a set up for the big 50th in November. Yes, it was a damned cheeky move to insert Clara into The Doctor’s entire existence as a time traveller like that. But THAT kiss. THAT moment when you just knew that the mad man with a box was going to leap in after Clara (presumably causing the TARDIS to explode in s5). AND LOOK. I HAVEN’T EVEN GOTTEN TO THE END YET. JOHN HURT. THEMATIC CONTINUITY.

Clara: Who’s that?
The Doctor: Never mind. Let’s get back.
Clara: Who is he?
The Doctor: He’s me. There’s only me here, that’s the point. Now let’s get back.
Clara: But I never saw that one. I saw all of you. Eleven faces. All of them you.
The Doctor: I said he was me. I never said he was the Doctor.
Clara: But I don’t understand.
The Doctor: My name, my real name, that is not the point. The name I chose is The Doctor. The name you choose, it’s like…  it’s like a promise you make. He’s the one who broke the promise. {Clara collapses} Clara? Clara! He is my secret.
The Old Man: What I did, I did without choice.
The Doctor: I know.
The Old Man: In the name of peace and sanity.
The Doctor: But not in the name of the Doctor.

This whole sequence filled my meta minded brain with sheer joy. Because this is where Moffat’s Who has been headed all along. Moffat is interested in the idea of what’s in a name. No one really thought that the Doctor’s name would be a literal reveal, did they? Because if you did, I don’t think you can have been paying much attention. When everyone kept repeating, “Doctor Who?” I never thought that they sought a literal name unless that name revealed more about The Doctor. I always thought, especially after River’s speech in A Good Man Goes to War, that the question was about identity. Who is The Doctor really? What is his essence? What does his story matter? Perfect set up meta for a show’s celebatory 50th!

Look. I’m sorry to regular readers of this blog. I can’t be coherant about this episode. It wasn’t as emotionally rewarding for me as The Pandorica Opens/The Big Bang, but it was certainly as interesting and as challenging and definitely more explosive. Doctor Who canon, much like it was after The Doctor’s Wife, will never be the same again.

The Name of The Doctor: 11/10 inky stars

Next time: See you in November, kiddos, just in time for some Time War angst if I’m not much mistaken. I knew that Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS had more about it than met the eye.

Maureen is addicted to all things speculative fiction, including Doctor Who. She guest blogs for MrsTribble but you can find her at her speculative fiction blog InkAshlings or on Twitter. She also reviews sci fi and fantasy books on Goodreads if you like that kind of thing.

Posted in A Madman With A Box, Doctor Who, Doctor Who Review, Maureen's Guest Blog Spot | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Angels Among Us

Posted on May 25, 2013 by

AngelOn Facebook this morning, I saw a status update from my sister which completely restored my faith in humanity.

My niece is a well brought up young woman with manners, compassion and kindness in spades. She was absolutely born to be a mother. Fate decreed that she became a mother rather sooner than she had planned to, but she took to her new role like the proverbial duck to water.

Yesterday my niece was stood at a bus stop with her two young children in their buggy. She was talking to somebody on her mobile phone, telling the person on the other end of the line that – due to a mistake by the DWP (Department For Work And Pensions) – she was pretty much destitute for the time being. She had no money, no food, no nappies. She had nothing but the roof over her head and too much on her mind.

An elderly gentleman was stood by her at the same bus stop, and he couldn’t help but overhear what my niece had to say about her predicament. Eventually he took my niece’s free hand and, without a word, placed a £20 note in her palm.

My niece promptly burst into tears, hugged the man and thanked him profusely. Cheltenham is not a town known for its good-hearted citizens, and yet here was this gentleman parting with a piece of his pension to help a young woman in desperate need. Just as my Nan would have done.

This story is not about my niece; it’s about the gentleman who extended kindness to a complete stranger in her hour of need.

We will never know his name, or where he lives, or who to thank.

He, however, knows that a small family have all they need in the house for now; they have food and sanitary supplies for the children.

He also knows that a beautiful young woman who wants the best for her children had her first proper good night’s sleep in quite a while, with the thought of poverty far from her mind.

I do not subscribe to the Christian ideal of a God or Gods, but I do have my own religious beliefs. I believe firmly that Angels walk among us on a daily basis. After all, Angels are not exclusive to Christianity.

Whoever he was, that kind man was an Angel in disguise, sent to help a family who are struggling through no fault of their own.

Have you ever encountered somebody that you percieved to be an Angel? How did they brighten your life? Was it a lifetime change, or was it just one shining moment in which a beautiful soul came to your aid?

Google Images

Google Images

Posted in Angels Among Us, Angels In Disguise | Tagged | 8 Comments

Baby Love

Posted on May 21, 2013 by

Baby Boy

Google Image

In a small maternity delivery room in Cheltenham, long ago, an exhausted young woman lay in a bed soaked with blood, sweat, amniotic fluid and tears; she had in her arms the most precious and beautiful thing that she had ever seen.

He was low birthweight and tiny, but he had a perfectly formed little Pixie face, not a single wrinkle on his beautiful, soft skin, and the eyes of a wise old man – boring straight in to the heart of his mother, and right in to her soul.

The young woman – still recovering from the painful contractions, all of the pushing and the subsequent birth – gazed at the child that she had grown inside of her. She was facing motherhood alone due to a violent marriage that she had been forced to end; her husband had attempted to kill her, and then the child inside her. At least his attempts on both lives had failed.

She vowed to the newborn, who she was cradling so gently, that she would look after him no matter what. Both of them together, forever.

From the day of the boy’s birth, though, his mother knew that something was wrong. Nobody would listen to her, but her child – her beloved boy – would not accept skin contact and never learned to speak. His temper, as he grew, grew with him and his mother could only watch in horror as she came to realise that her child had a disability that she would never be able to help him with. He was eventually diagnosed as autistic.

The child was violent and strong and, after too many physical attacks his mother – who adored him and wanted the best for him – was forced to send her beloved boy in to foster care. She had recently recieved a diagnosis of epilepsy and was unable to cope with her son’s strength. It was the best way forward for both of them. She could still spend time with her son, and he would be with a family who were trained to deal with his outbursts.

His mother had struggled so hard to prevent that from happening; she was desperate to keep him with her, but it simply wasn’t possible.

The little boy is a young man now, and his mother is me. Throughout his entire life I have gone through heartbreak after heartbreak in order to do what is right for him. It was not easy for me to give him up, even though I realised that – for both our sakes – I had to.

In spite of anything that has been said to me of the contrary, I did what I did through love. What good am I to a profoundly autistic child when I can collapse and seize without notice? How on earth could I restrain a teenager bigger and stronger than myself so that he can’t cause harm?

Sometimes, there is no choice – regardless of how much it hurts, or how much you know it might hurt in the future. When you love somebody you have to risk emotional pain.

P1020068

My little man is currently residing in a psychiatric unit. The fact that it is the right thing for him does not make it any less painful for the many people who love him.

Love hurts.

Posted in 2013, Autism, Autistic Behaviours, Autistic Meltdown, Autistic Temperament, Carers, Disability, Emotional Pain, Family, My Son, Neurological, Not A Supermarket Tomato, Psychiatric | 12 Comments

Guest Post – Doctor Who Review: Nightmare in Silver

Posted on May 21, 2013 by

The hype for this episode was at a fever pitch. The last time Neil Gaiman wrote an episode for Doctor Who, he wrote what most people would call a game changing masterpiece. The second that Cybermen were mentioned, my hopes immediately took a nose dive. The first time they reappeared with Nine in Series One, they were quite frightening, but every appearance since has been sub par, with the exception of a Cybermen’s hand running amok in The Pandorica Opens. Still, I’d let myself get prematurely disappointed without considering the wild ways of Gaiman.

Nightmare In Silver has little in common with The Doctor’s Wife at first glance. The Doctor, Clara and kids end up on Hedgewick’s World of Wonders for a good time. Soon they hear about the missing Emperor’s war with the Cybermen and things go horribly wrong when the Cyberplanner (a kind of super Cyber consciousness) gets inside The Doctor’s head. Clara is left to try and stay alive before the military, headed by Captain Alice, blows up the entire planet. Meanwhile, The Doctor plays a deadly game of chess…

nightmareinsilver_610

Apparently Gaiman’s mission was to make the Cybermen scary again and on the whole I think he succeeded. The moments when the Cyberplanner spoke through The Doctor were chilling, especially when he mocked The Doctor with his own catchphrases like “allonsy.” The decision to have Matt Smith play two parts in one body was a bold move but it worked for me, only serving to reinforce how strong an actor the Eleventh incarnation of our favourite Time Lord is. Similarly, the separation of Clara from The Doctor gave us the chance to remember how independant, fun and bold Clara is as the new companion. Warwick Davis as ‘Emperor Of The Universe’ Porridge was wonderfully understated and his quiet speech to Clara about feeling sorry for the people who pull the trigger was both sad and a brilliant piece of forshadowing.

I don’t think this episode is a masterpiece like The Doctor’s Wife was. There are still the typical Gaiman elements; the abandoned circus, the grotesque, the rag tag team of characters, the strange blend of sci fi and fantasy that is Gaiman’s signature style and an emphasis on moral conundrums. But this episode is a lot less serious than The Doctor’s Wife despite Nightmare in Silver’s fear factor, and it has a lot less to say. At least at first glance. On rewatches, the complexities are more noticeable. Nightmare in Silver isn’t perfect, but it is thought provoking and well acted teatime entertainment. That’s all I want from Mr Gaiman.

Nightmare in Silver: 10/10 inky stars

FINALE: YES I’VE SEEN IT AND YES I AM BEHIND WITH MY BLOGGING. My brain is still shattered and I am in no state to review the finale till after another veiwing. Moffat you audacious bastard.

Maureen is addicted to all things speculative fiction, including Doctor Who. She guest blogs for MrsTribble but you can find her at her speculative fiction blog InkAshlings or on Twitter. She also reviews sci fi and fantasy books on Goodreads if you like that kind of thing.

Posted in A Madman With A Box, Adventures, Cybermen, Doctor Who, Doctor Who Review, Maureen's Guest Blog Spot, Nightmare In Silver, Steven Moffat | Tagged | 3 Comments

Autistic Son Psyched In A Bad Way

Posted on May 20, 2013 by

Psych Unit

Psych Unit

I have mentioned my autistic son many times before. I’ve shared the good times, the bad times, some photographs of my handsome, cheeky little man. A young man who is basically thoughtful, sweet-natured, warm hearted, kind, handsome and funny. He has a smile that could light up the entire solar system, and a laugh to match.

He is a beautiful boy. He would never deliberately harm anybody, but over the last few months his behaviour has become more and more difficult for people to cope with. Several of the services he was recieving have been withdrawn recently, because people just cannot deal with him any more.

I still didn’t expect the news that I recieved yesterday though, in spite of my son’s deteriorating behaviour. I was just home from Book Club when my mother called me.

My son’s behaviour has become so erratic and violent that he was admitted to a psychiatric ward on Saturday; he’s been sectioned for twenty-eight days. Sectioning means that he will be held against his will for his own safety while tests are carried out; we’ve always known that autism isn’t his only issue – and perhaps we can now find out what else is going on.

My son is non-verbal and so he can’t tell people how he feels. Many of his physical attacks on people are born out of sheer frustration. This is known to all and is therefore being removed from the equation when it comes to any new diagnoses.

I really did not want to write this, but then I decided that my son’s story might benefit parents of autistic children who may have other special needs, just as my son does. I wanted them to know that they are not the only ones.

However; whichever deity you trust, please send them a prayer for my little boy.

R: The Stealer Of Hats

R: The Stealer Of Hats

 

Posted in 2013, Autism, Autism Awareness, Autistic Meltdown, Disability, Health, Neurological, Not A Supermarket Tomato, Psychiatric, The Dark Side Of Autism | 13 Comments