Looking back into the most recent past I recalled the beginning of what seemed to be Jeremy's emotional unraveling. As Jeremy grew from toddlerhood to young adulthood, Rick and I had rejoiced over the seemingly easy-going personality of our young son with autism. Yes, he had some difficult years ~ the pre-teen years ~ but, for the most part, Jeremy was fairly easy to manage. I prided myself on being able to control Jeremy's minor outbursts and unusual quirks. Smelling another's ice cream cone in public was met simply with an explanation and gentle whisper to Jeremy, "We don't smell other people's ice cream cones!"
The startling reality of Jeremy's unraveling began to take shape the year he left high school and began working at an adult "workshop" which caters to those with special needs. Jeremy loved his job, his supervisor and his new schedule. But the years of restrictions began to take its toll and Jeremy began to assert his rights and desires as he grew up. He began to morph into a very, very persistent young adult whenever he wanted something, then began showing explosive tempers, Rick and I consulted several specialists. We learned new coping strategies and all seemed to work fairly well for a short time.
Almost two years ago Rick and I were offered the chance to send Jeremy to an academy whose design was to train young men and women to live and work as normally as possible in the "real world". We were very familiar with this academy as it was an off-shoot of the summer camp our family had attended every year for years. Jeremy knew practically everyone who was on staff at the academy and told us, eagerly, that he wanted to go . We prayed for guidance and affirmation, and readily sent Jeremy off to live in this large bed-and-breakfast type home for the next nine months. He was excited, but also a little nervous, too.
Jeremy began to unravel after returning home for a long, October weekend break. During his six weeks there, Jeremy had shown an increasingly aggressive nature by attacking other staff members ... sometimes without any apparent reason. Always a little bit obsessive/compulsive, Jeremy's OCD sky-rocketed. His favorite temptations were to throw away as much as possible ~ even if that meant draining a whole bottle of his roommate's shampoo just to throw the empty container into the trash! Toilet paper had to be hidden. Food was guarded by staff so that Jeremy couldn't sneak into the refrigerator or pantries to either graze or throw-away. All total, Jeremy gained 50 pounds in just ten months! If Jeremy couldn't prepare his own foods, his own way ~ whether undercooked or not ~ Jeremy began to throw loud and aggressive tantrums. It was a nightmare for us to hear and, I'm sure, the staff to endure.
For most of Jeremy's life, Rick and I had resisted giving Jeremy medications, but soon it was obvious to all that our son was in dire need of help. We brought Jeremy home from the academy and he returned to work at the workshop. In the meantime, we desperately searched the web for solutions. Jeremy's tempers and aggression were now lasting longer and were more aggressive. His world was one of chaos and rebellion. We lived with grief and sometimes fear, for about two years.
The stress of Jeremy's unraveling was as difficult, if not more so, as my battle with breast cancer twenty years ago. Some nights after a particularly difficult raging episode, Rick and I would simply sit in bed, quietly holding hands, asking ourselves, "When will this ever end?!" I had pulled away from most activities in an effort to conserve energy. My friends, few, but very connected, knew what was happening and reassuringly voiced their support & prayers. Grief was a part of most days. Our daughters, Megan and Rebekah, distanced themselves as well as both of them had received angry blows to their backs, too. It was a long nightmare without an ending in sight.
Finally, after endless months of grief and frustration, we found a psychiatrist who was skilled in treating adults with autism spectrum. Slowly we began to see positive changes in Jeremy. We can now see glimpses of sparkly joy in Jeremy's eyes. As of today, Jeremy hasn't hit anyone for over three weeks and is even beginning to exhibit less of his pesky OCD behaviors. The toilet paper seemed to be safe :) in our house this week!
During this time of intense pain and trial, I pictured myself clinging onto the vine that Christ talked about to his disciples in the book of John. ("I am the vine and you are the branches; If a woman remains in me, and I in her, she will bear much fruit. Apart from Me, you can do nothing.") Throwing myself in counseling, I learned how to make sense of the on-going chaos of past two years. My doctor prescribed an antidepressant to help me stay afloat during the awful months.
And now, this spring, I find myself slowly emerging into the real world once, again ... Stronger in faith and more confident in God to carry me through the next expected challenges in life.
Post Script: My sister recently asked me some questions. I'll share some of my answers with you.
What did you learn about YOURSELF from all this?
I would have to say that my main lesson centers around the issue of control. As Jeremy grew and
began to overcome challenges of his autism, it was foolhardy of me to think that my control
could continue forever. In an effort to protect Jeremy from the world and from bad things, my
sense of control only served to fuel Jeremy's desperate need for independence. As he faced new
challenges and situations as a young adult, he was unprepared for the anxieties he'd face in new environments.
What has God taught you about control, fear and trust?
Issues of control comes from fear which undermines any trust we have in God. My desire to control Jeremy's world was a misguided attempt to protect Jeremy from pain, sorrow, and the
evils of this world. As I began to let-go of my control over Jeremy, God began to step-in to
soothe my soul and offer a sense of peace amidst the chaos.
How has being Jeremy's mom helped God mold you?
Most assuredly, I have evolved into a patient woman by having been the mother of Jeremy. Also, my capacity for living with/ and through emotional pain has grown by leaps and bounds. The trauma of Jeremy's autism and related issues has (literally) kept me on my knees praying for his recovery these past 24 years. And, finally, my relationship with God has grown as a direct result of my time in prayer on behalf of most everything in my life.
Kathy
