Precious Lord, Take My Hand...

So, I just about reached the end of my rope this week...haven't had that many thoughts about suicide since each of my parents passed away. The kicker...couldn't "live" with myself thinking about what my death (due to suicide or not) would do to my son, my husband, my family, my friends. Since taking us all down with me is definitely not an option, I have to find the will to P.U.S.H. (pray until something happens) on.

This has been an extremely dark week. It started the week before, on a Friday afternoon, when the teacher called to (for the first time ever) say that our son had been struggling and was very "naughty" in the classroom. The bottom line was that he is not doing well with the testing and (already) we ought to consider private placement for him or a more restrictive environment due to his non-verbal state. What the %$#@(*)^%$@^%%!!!??? Less than three months ago he was a champion in the classroom and had come so far. What happened? Could you take a look at how you (the school) has gone about the testing process, please?

Number one: don't start the day the ASD child comes back from a two week long school break.

Number two: don't take the ASD child out of the environment the child is used to "working" in to test them. (Not to mention, the child doesn't know and has never met the person conducting the test!)

Number three: could you take into consideration of the situation, perhaps, that the ASD child had to stay home from school sick with the flu the next two days and wasn't feeling up to par upon their return?

Number four: if you know that the ASD child is non-verbal, has fine motor skill issues with Sign Language but does exceedingly well with their PECS book, don't make them have to answer with an Assistive Technology device they don't use functionally in the first place (even after 8 months of training on the device)!

After last Friday, when he is home from school, we have had our son exhibit significant self soothing stimulation; heightened frustration; sleep disturbance and serious intestinal issues (to put it as politely as I can think of at this moment). Every day this past week he has cried and protested about getting ready for and going to school. Before the testing began, these things were NEVER an issue (at the very least, an issue in the recent past).

Last night I asked my husband if he thought we could make it till our son turned 18 and was out of the house (Lord willing, living semi-independently)...his reply was "of course we can and we will, even if he's still living with us after the age of 18". Thank you, Lord, for blessing me with such a strong man. Thank you, Lord, for anti-depressant medication. (Now, if I could just get "back on track" I think I can get my plane out of this tail spin.) Precious Lord, Take My Hand...