I had a revelation today.
I visited a friend at her home yesterday - it's rare that we are invited places, or get visitors ourselves, so it was a nice surprise. The kids played so well, except for Z who was disgruntled for most of the visit - overtired and more hungry than usual. However, I knew the general illusion of normality would disintegrate when it came time to leave, TRANSITION time. I gave the kids warnings 10min then 5min in advance, however I could see that things weren't going to go smoothly. When it was time to go, the screaming started. They screamed and screamed, kicked and flailed, cried and hit me. I managed to get them all into the car, then noticed my friend - she was bewildered.
"What on earth is going on!?" she exclaimed. "They seemed totally fine before!? The screaming is unbelievable!". She couldn't believe her eyes. As with most people, they see the "normality" and don't typically witness the "autism". I explained that this sort of behaviour was normal for transitions, especially ones at the end of a busy day, and I keep ear muffs and ear plugs handy at home and in the car. She was clearly quite disturbed.
The next day I got a message from her, saying how awful it was, and how she'd love to give me a break if I ever need it. This was deeply touching as people who witness my childrens multiples-meltdowns tend to run and never look back, family included.
However, it led to my revelation. Every single day for almost seven years, screaming children's meltdowns have been a part of my life. Every morning upon waking, most transitions during the day, every sibling disagreement, every trip out of the house, every trip back to the house, every single bath time. Screaming. Times four. It's just part of my life. A miserable part, but inescapable. However I suddenly realised that it's not part of anyone elses. My friends children may have the occasional tantrum, sibling battle, or anger at not being able to do something, but they don't SCREAM, for hours every day. Ever. I have four... it's been 7 years.
I don't think I've ever felt quite so alone. And isolated.
