Just recently we have had to go to his school, to discuss his behaviour and try to work out a plan to help him. And what seems to have come shining through in all of this, is anxiety. It's a constant black cloud over his life and what seems to make it worse is that all he can do when he gets anxious is run away. He runs away from everything that worries him. Spiders, loud noises, the written form of the English language. You name it, he legs it. And we need to find a better way for him to communicate these anxieties to us. But more importantly we need to find a translation tool that allows him to communicate without burning up lactic acid. The problem lies in the fact that, with myself being on the spectrum as well, finding a way to cut out some of the interference in my head just doubles the amount of work necessary to help him. And that, to some degree, sums up the point of this blog. Catharsis for me, catharsis for him.
Now, this is both my apologetic entry and my worthy entry. I'm going to post twice today (swoons), the other entry actually being about Doctor Who. So if the pills and scotch haven't made your vision swim too much, have a read and tell me what you think.
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