Like I said, this is not a new thought to me. When he was young, I researched Asperger's pretty thoroughly and he did tick a lot of the boxes, but I was convinced that if he did have the disorder it was extremely mild and we did fine. He was a difficult kid. He tantrumed a lot. When he was 3 I got called to the daycare center almost every single day, because when I'd leave him he'd throw such a fit that they couldn't control him. He didn't do that at the previous in-home daycare. I can't count the number of times I'd get to work to a ringing phone and promptly have to run out the door to go back to the daycare to calm him down. Thank God I had understanding bosses back then. I started to get up an hour earlier so we could sit down and have breakfast and spend more time together. I bought him a Micky Mouse watch and taught him that when the little hand was on the 5 mom would be there soon. I gave him a special pillow for nap time. The tantrums at daycare went away for the most part. But he actually got kicked out of a daycare and a preschool. But again, only one preschool insisted I have him tested and that quack said ADHD, which it wasn't, and the child psychiatrist didn't diagnose anything at 4. He just warned me he'd always be a difficult kid. He was, but over the years he got better. He was never easy, but he got better.
Until he got worse.
So now it is what it is. I suppose we could suggest to him that maybe part of his problems stem from some disorder and he should see someone, but the last time I suggested he see someone more than a counselor, he asked me, in this heart-broken voice, "Do you really think I'm that broken?" It about did me in.
He tried again tonight, calling just as I was leaving the office at 6:30. He told me he'd walked the mile to the shelter and got there at 5:45, but they'd run out of dinner and didn't put out any more. I asked why he hadn't gone to the food pantry and he said he thought he'd just get a meal and then he'd get more food tomorrow. He said he had $1.90 and asked me for a ride to the store so he could get something.
I said no.
I cried all the way home and for a good 1/2 hour after I got here.
I told Jabber he must be getting so sick of me. He said, "I understand that this is upsetting." which is exactly what I say to our son when I'm sick of his tantrums. He puts up with so much.
So now I've had dinner, which I almost skipped altogether out of guilt. I feel like I did when he was 4 and refused to eat his mashed potatoes. I wouldn't let him eat anything else until he took a bite. I told him to go to bed if he didn't want to eat. He went to bed...three nights in a row. On the 3rd night after he went to his room and sat down and cried and told Jabber, "I may not be the world's best mom and I've got to at least feed my child!" I fed my child. He never ate mashed potatoes.
I told him, "I told you I was done. You have to learn I mean what I say. I'll talk to you tomorrow." So I guess I won. I find myself wondering if the victory is worth it.