What A Bloody Nightmare of a Day.

It started badly. It actually began last night, not this morning. We had a lovely family day driving in the country visiting galleries, antique shops and bookstores. But a full day out meant no Playstation. A full day out meant no X-Box or computer. In his eyes, it meant no downtime or defusing, as much as he loves exploring the depths of musty old wears shops searching for treasure. He does not count running with his brother in the sunshine laughing, playing as relaxation. The only way his brain seems to give him respite from constantly spinning ideas is when he is on a console.

For him, today was not acceptable to return to school. But he had to. Meltdowns began as soon as the bell went. Some girls told him he needed to put his bag elsewhere. He could not cope. By afternoon the meltdowns had escalated. By pickup he was beyond it all, in a rage, angry at anyone who came near.

I was angry too. He is twelve, he needs to take ownership and control or else he will not make it through life. I told him I was disappointed, disillusioned and lost as to how to help him. He rebuffed all aid today - what did he expect of me or any others? He had no answers, could merely say sorry. My response was to tell him I did not want the words, I needed to see the actions. I am sad. And lost. I was honest in my frustration even while reminding him of my love and belief in his ability if he could only help himself and control these rampant emotions.

After a long discussion we moved past it, I had to attend a meeting, he did his homework and promised me he had turned it around, and would continue to. On my return both boys had settled in bed. He came down to fill his water bottle as I watched Good News Week. Right at the spot they began to mock autism and its sufferers. A show he loves to watch in the holidays belittles him. Just what he needed and right now, right now I could kill them for adding to a child's belief that he does not belong in this world and he is not worthy.

Mikey Robbins, and Paul McDermott,  I hope you both suffer the pain of  anguish such as I just watched in my child. Thank you - it would never be funny to a mother of a child with ASD, but tonight, tonight you may well have crushed the small part of hope or courage my child had left. Hope you are proud of yourselves. People would say that your talent has vanished when you resort to taking pot-shots at the innocent. It is called discrimination you stupid, stupid people