Sometimes living with an angry child is like living with an abusive spouse, except you have no option to walk out. You can not leave. We have spent years dealing with Matthew’s anger. When he was younger it manifested itself through random biting, kicking and digging in with his nails so hard that I was left with cuts up and down my arms. I truly looked as if I had been fighting with a cat. Interestingly he stopped biting after we introduced probiotics into his life, which killed the yeast that was causing him to bite. But even with all our work and all the biomedical interventions Matthew still has trouble dealing with his anger and with his sharp tongue. He can cut you to the bone with his words and think nothing of it.
That may be one of the hardest parts too, he thinks nothing of it. He expects that you will be perfectly fine after he brutalizes you. After all, I am his mother and I HAVE to love him. Right? Lately he has taken to verbal abuse mostly. He seems to have finally understood, at least with my husband and I, that he can’t hit, kick or bite us anymore. He still hits his brothers, but that may just be little boys. No, where Matthew has become a true master is with the verbal hatred, the spoken insults that get to the heart of who we are. At times his anger oozes off of him in such a way that it leaves me completely drained before we have even had breakfast. There are mornings were we are literally woken to his anger and hatred and it sets the tone for the rest of the day. This angry child is relentless. I really don’t know when he will show up, or what will set him off. I am reminded of the Julia Roberts’ movie Sleeping With The Enemy where she tried her hardest to make her husband happy but she always missed something, or an event outside her control caused him to erupt into anger. That is how we live. Daily. But he is a child and we have to remain calm, and in control.
The stress takes over the whole family. Today, I am exhausted by it. This past weekend all I wanted to do was cry, cry because I want to give up, cry because I am at my wits end and still I have no idea how to help my family. I read another article recently on how mom’s of autistic children have brain scans similar to veterans with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I don’t know what kind of lives those moms lived. Were they stressed because of their child’s future or because of the stress of raising a child with autism and all it encompasses? I’m guessing the latter. Matthew has come so, so very far, but this is one area that although it has morphed it has not receded and I watch the toll it is taking on our family. And the years stretch on.
