Saturday 16 February 2008

Locked in...

My first post and it's the first of many honest admissions. Yesterday, my son decided to make his escape into the big, wide world. Out the front door, before I'd even realised he'd gone. My heart was in my mouth (I always thought that was a cliche, but it's not - it describes that moment where you think your world has ended and life will never be the same again) and I felt sick. At the same time I was running into the street, screaming his name at the top of my voice (knowing full well this was totally futile - he doesn't answer to his name when I'm calling him on a good day....) looking like a lunatic. No, honestly, I was in my slippers, with my knitting tucked under my arm - heaven knows what the neighbours thought. I looked up and down the street, screaming like a banshee and was about to start crying when I heard a familiar "tshk, tshk, oooh aaah" sound. There he was, behind me, standing in front of the garage and stimming away as if nothing unusual had happened.



So today my husband was sent off to purchase a chain for the front door. I can't risk this happening again especially as I may not be so quick to notice his disappearance and he may wander a lot further next time. It has made me wonder what would happen if he did wander off - James is completely non verbal and has such a limited understanding of language that he'd never be able to make his way home. I also wonder whether in this day and age anyone would even bother to stop and try and help him, fearing they would be accused of abuse or worse. The irony is that this sort of attitude leaves him more vulnerable to exactly that. The media has a lot to answer for.



I often think that James is "locked in" within his autistic world, somewhere he doesn't let me visit, and now we're all going to be "locked in" together.

5 comments:

Rosebud said...

A great discription. I know that feeling of dread all to well. That feeling that anything could happen, then there he is, no awareness at all of either the danger he was in, or the fact that you were scared half to death.

Luckily i have now grown to know how mine is going to react and when. He now no longer runs far, but just far enough so he can hide and find a quiet space.

Rosebud said...

I meant to say in my last comment, that like you, I decided i had to live, not exist, and we are. Life is so much better.

Karen said...

Thanks Rosebud

I can only hope things get better as he gets older - I guess it can hardly get much worse.... And I want to embrace our life, even when I'm despairing, as I honestly think if I don't we'll all go down
K
;-))

Rosebud said...

Karen, i shant mention the police having to bring him home daily after he ran away from school.

Mind you, he did make me laugh, he had to go to hospital in an abulance last summer (massiv nose bleed) the ambulance lady asked him if he had ever been in the back of an ambulance before. He said "no, but i have been in the back of a police van a couple of times" lol he was 8 at the time.

stacey said...

Just want to say that I am following your blog and I really think you are one special lady.
James and Bea are very lucky to have such a wonderful mummy. You show that love over rules everything.
Thank you for sharing your blog, it is an eye opener and a real inspiration for people like me who often take simple yet important things for granted.