not funny

Alright. Brace yourselves. This is not going to be one of my lighthearted entries, unfortunately. When you live with autism, there truly are the dark moments, and if you don't give in to them sometimes, (as most shrinks will tell you...trust me, I know!) they will consume you. *funny that if you replaced the word "autism" in that last sentence with "vampires", it would still make complete sense. Hmmm...they both do have a way of sucking the life out of things. *shrug*

Back to bracing yourselves. My mom made her usual Saturday visit today so I could take MBear to "gin-a$$-tics" (as she says it). I love her "coach" because she allows me to take NBear to the sessions, and NBear LOVES them! I can't take her all the time because:

#1, she towers over all the ant-sized 1 to 2-year olds in the class, and when she gets excited about a certain obstacle course, it's like a scene from "Godzilla versus the Lilliputians"
#2, I am taking FREE advantage of the class (and I feel guilty already)
and #3, MBear gets very frustrated when I don't give her 150% of my attention when she wants to show me her "jump and stick its" and "forward rolls".

sigh.

Okay - so gina$$tics was done, I come home and feel totally cabin-fevered. My mom was gracious enough to allow me to take the N and M monsters out while she watched SBear. So - I decide to finally make a trip to BestBuy at McCarthy Ranch. Enter the dark moment.

Alright, alright...so it was MY fault - I didn't realize that he would go so fast on his LEFT turn when I made my RIGHT turn into the same driving space - but nonetheless, I immediately raised my left hand in utter defeat, and mouthed the words "I'm sorry" to his glazed windshield - all while listening to the continuous sound of his angry horn. *which is beyond irritating, by the way - and yes, it does work exceptionally when you want to get a person riled up, or scared beyond belief*

That wasn't the problem. What I thought would be a 2-minute fit of fury became an almost 15-minute parking lot rage episode. My plan to secure a parking space at BestBuy was foiled when I looked in my rearview mirror and he was still tailing me. Okay, I thought, I'll drive a little past here and...but nope, still tailing me. I drove in and out of some of the other parking areas, circled parts of the lot, drove as slowly as I could to irk him into defeat, but to no avail. It was seriously starting to drive me nuts! NUTS! After the first few minutes I realized he wasn't going to stop, I had the mad idea to park the van in a crowded spot (Wal-Mart topped my list at that moment), and just let us both de-steam. (What the heck? I haven't yelled at anyone in a long time, and the last time I got this much confrontational excitement was too many years ago! Bring it on!)

"Mommy? I want to...I want to..watch..DVD Peter and the Wolf, pwweeeaassseee?"

The sound of NBear's voice made me freeze. Up until this point, I was so engulfed in being irked, that I forgot I had the girls with me. Now I felt something else entirely: mad, crazy, and undeniably thick FEAR. My mind suddenly kicked into mommy-mode, and went through a list of what-ifs that included:
- what if mad driver has a gun?
- what if he threatens me with the girls?
- what if he never stops following me? How can I ever take them home safely?
- what if he's already taken down my license plate and - God forbid - knows where to find us?

I can't even think of a word to convey the extent of fear I felt in those minutes, but I do know this: it does not even come close to the fear I felt for NBear and her future, should she ever have to face a situation like this one. My dark moment had arrived. I laid out the possibilities in my head, and asked myself - would she even know when to scream for help? Would she even know that there was a reason to scream? How would I be able to tell her to run for help if she was the only way we could save ourselves? *panic, panic, panic* I tried to shut my mind up, but it was on a roll - What if he saw that there was no fear in her eyes, that she even smiled at him? What could he do to her then? oh, no no no no.... and then (in my head) I saw a vivid image of a man yanking my van door open, and pressing a silver object to my chin. He turns to look at the girls in the back seats, and very lovingly says Hello there! Who wants to come and see pets? I hear NBear's excited squeal and the sound of her seat belt unbuckling, and the incredible pressure in my throat prevents me from screaming for her to stay......

I don't know how I managed to shake him off, but I did. *thanks, God* I drove to the nearest gas station to allow my pulse to slow down (plus I was almost running on fumes, which added to my earlier panic attack). It was beating so fast that it seemed to be in rhythm with the rising numbers on the pump screen. For the first time in years, my yoga days were not in vain. *breathe, breathe, breathe* Of course my eagle eyes were still on the lookout for the other car, but most of the feeling was replaced my numbness, and that was enough relief :)

Even before this happened, I already had the nightmares. I believe every parent does, anyway. (When your child has special needs though, you can be an exception because they even happen in the day. Daymares, I guess they're called. Lots and lots of daymares.) I watched a special on autism where one father said something like "I still have those nightmares about her future, and I don't know how to make them go away."

Ditto, my friend. I hear ya.

Loud and clear.