We've gone underground...

I realize now I know a lot of "passers". It happens all the time...

We tend to belong to a kind of "club"...and we remember each other.

I WOULD NOT HAVE DREAMED IN MY WILDEST DREAMS when Ben was first given a label that he would be who he is today. So much worry for NOTHING.

cool trick for multiplications tables 6-9

Communication is SO important./ dangers of ritalin

About a year ago, Ben told his Daddy and me that he was seeing/hearing a "friend" who told him to do things. Because I freaked when I heard "autism", I was adamant that I would not freak at the idea of "schizophrenia". I would just accept it, and keep an eye out for "delusions". After all, schizophrenia is the one thing psychiatry can't touch...an enigma that cognitive therapy or medication can't cure.

Now, the reason I am writing today is because of a conversation we had last night. At the time Ben went through this, I noticed that delusions were a part of the side-effects of Ritalin. I initially tried to remedy it by decreasing his dose. Things got tougher at school, because of the lack of behavioral constraints that "vitamin r" gave Ben. But I felt it was the first line of defense, just to be sure, to decrease the dose.

So I have been holding it in my heart that Ben was possibly schizophrenic. When he stayed up late at night and talked out loud to the t.v., I tried to wake up enough to listen to what he was saying, presumably to "her". My weak little mind was looking for answers, wondering why Ben seemed so sensible all the time. I thought he was hiding it really well...

So last night, he has me read a story he is writing about a boy and a girl caught up in a train simulation exercise, looking for clues and answers to escape. He warns me it has taken on a sexual tone, and not to read it. I think I might read it in the morning while he is sleeping...but I promised him I would not, and try to hornswaggle him into letting me read it, which, to my surprise, he allows.

" I don't really care for the sexual stuff." I tell him, as it is my duty being raised a catholic.

I bring up the episode of a year back.

"That only happened for about two weeks. I've never seen or heard things since then!"

And I know he is telling the truth.

Can you imagine if I had freaked out of fear? He would have been put on new meds...who knows how he would have reacted, and the downward spiral could have desended us into a hell of who knows what.

Fear sucks. Communication rocks!

Forgive me Ben, but sometimes when we go through things, it is so others can be helped.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I am so thankful for the Hub. I get to meet very successful people who have traveled a similar road as my son. (My idea of success is changing the world, not making money). I get to brag about my son with mothers whose children are growing up with THE SAME developmental delights and challenges, kinda like a soccer mom group, but more fun.

(I love this picture of turkeys from 'JoeyMom'. I thought it was absolutely beautiful, and thought of it for the image first thing!)

I am thankful for my kind husband, and my "is this mike on?" son...
I am thankful for a huge, loving family, and that I still have my parents (for a time.)
I am thankful for the holy spirit of life that continues to give me hope.
I am thankful for friends in my life, for a day, for a season, for a lifetime.
And just to prove I am still in touch with the lesser things, I bring you the thanksgiving message my sister-in-law sent:



Thanksgiving Divorce

A man in Jacksonville calls his son in San Diego the day before
Thanksgiving and says, 'I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you
that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is
enough.

'Pop, what are you talking about?' the son screams. We can't stand the
sight of each other any longer,' the father says. 'We're sick of each
other, and I'm sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in
Denver and tell her.'

Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone. ' Like heck
they're getting divorced,' she shouts, 'I'll take care of this,'

She calls Jacksonville immediately, and screams at her father, 'You are
NOT getting divorced. Don't do a single thing until I get there. I'm
calling my brother back, and we'll both be there tomorrow. Until then,
don't do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?' and hangs up.

The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. 'Okay,' he says,
'they're coming for Thanksgiving and paying their own way.'

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

It's not me, it's Ben. He has always loved decorating for Christmas. He usually doesn't start until after Thanksgiving dinner, but this year he has been checking out the lights for missing bulbs, etc, for about a month. He and Dad put up this little pretty today. One gal brought her kids to see it, ages 1 and 3. They really enjoyed it. He was so proud of his design!

The hedge in front of the apartment hides some of the lights. I'm not sure he's finished, but he's tired for today. He's my joy boy, and he's giving it out to the rest of the apartment complex!

Fear of the Future

Ben has shared some things with me lately. I seldom, if ever, get really personal on this blog...I don't want it to come back to haunt him or me.

Maybe it is a teen thing, but this omnipresent thing called "the future" scares him. He is afraid he is unemployable. He has always had this dream to be an inventor since the first grade...and it's the only way out he can see. A regular 9 to 5 is just not his way.

I only survived employment with the help of anti-depressants. It wasn't really that I was depressed, but that I was enormously sensitive to criticism, and took it all straight to heart. The anti-depressants served as a "buffer zone" between me and the world. I would equate it with an intense shyness, and an intense fear of failure. I see some of the same shyness/fear of failure in Ben.

He was on ritalin to help him get through school without being in an enclosed special ed classroom. I KNEW they went much slower, and something told me he was very bright. It also helped him control his outbursts, gave him a buffer between his reactive feelings and the world, much like my anti-depressants. (I wasn't medicated through school, there never was a need in the "old days". I was a little off kilter, but had many friends, some of whom I still have. I was thought to be very bright...but "not living up to my potential". The same has been said of Ben.}

Well, what I need to know is, how can I help him to have faith in himself? Do any of you use drugs as a buffer? (I am thinking about having him see if he has more faith in himself with the addition of ritalin, like I use anti-depressants. I think they kept me out of a lot of trouble I would have caused for myself without them.)

It's not as though he doesn't have good role models. His 5th grade teacher was different, probably ADHD, and loved him into success and a stress free year. She believed in him like NOBODY's business, like nobody before or since. For 3 years, we were totally blessed to have a psychiatrist who was ADHD himself, and who never went into any psycho-babble, he just encouraged Ben and told him he was "the hardest worker he knew." We (both of us!)got out of his sessions uplifted. No blame, no "better way" by someone who "knew better"....Just encouragement! We loved them both, and Ben at one time said he would like to be a psychologist like "Dr. Luke" to help other kids like him. He was that good! Granny had trouble in school, and has always believed in Ben. Dad was a "late talker", and sees a lot of himself in Ben. So do I.

I know you all are extremely busy...but if you have any good advice, please leave a comment if you can share it with the world, or email me via the hub ring (jrbwalk).

God bless...Rose

Autism Experts

Who are the autism experts? I googled it, and if you hit the link above you'll see who comes up first. (Autismsqueaks comes up second...surprise, surprise).

I know it's goofy, but imagine an alien comes to this planet, and becomes enraptured with this thing called "woman".

"Tell me more, what is this woman?"

Would we send them to a gynecologist to explain the inner workings of a woman's body, a doctor to show the physical manifestations, a psychiatrist to show the issues of being woman,(all the previous from a male point of view), let them read books on women's issues, give them a copy of playboy, talk about women's suffrage, have a man talk about his wife, have children talk about their mother; would we, in essence, avoid a snowballs chance in hell that they could actually meet and talk with a woman, have their questions answered by a woman...would we only allow a societal constuct of womanhood to escape?

Do you think they'd ever really figure out what this thing, this "woman", was?

Maybe, we could have a token woman who was only allowed to say things about herself that were previously cleared with all the above "experts" first. She would say things that made them feel comfortable, because that's what "good" women do.

i'm jus sayin....