Crossed wires

It’s been 9 days since it happened.  Somehow the emotional scars seem to heal quicker than the physical scars.  We left the local aquarium because Eric started screaming really loud.  After sitting in the car seeing if he would settle down enough for us to go back in, I decided to head home – and told him we could come back later that day once he calmed down.   He was sad.  He was quietly crying.  I started driving and less than a mile away, Eric yanked at my hair so hard from the back seat that my head jerked up- and I was staring at the ceiling of my car.  Thankfully, it was a quiet beach town street not busy in the winter – and I was able to quickly pull over and park.  But I couldn’t move my head.  He pulled so hard for several minutes that later I gathered up and vacuumed up clumps of my hair.

I screamed at the top of my lungs and then realized I was making it worse.  I finally said in my calmest voice that we would go back to the aquarium (a lie) and he immediately let go.  I took my opportunity to jump out of the car and locked him inside (child safety locks).  I was scared.  I didn’t know how I would safely drive home and called my husband.

My son is 11.  Only about 115 pounds and he was able to over power me at that moment while I was in the vulnerable position of the drivers seat.

For several days after I felt numb and in an emotional daze.  How could my child who I gave birth to, who I take care of, who I love with everything I have want to hurt me?   This is the part of autism that I will never accept as a special or unique quality.   It is the part of autism where the wrong wires are crossed; he loves me.   He should never want to intentionally hurt me.  But in that moment, he was not reachable; I was not his mother – I was the vehicle that removed him from his day at the aquarium and he wasn’t happy.

When my husband wrote a brief update about it that day on this page, I cried as I read hundreds of your comments with similar stories or worries.   Our kids needs us more than ever to be there to reassure them that we will keep them safe; that we love them; that we will be there for them.  And we will.

(Image is from 2008 Eric’s first time on ice skates).