I think I lost that sense of humor.

As evidenced by a major lack of posting lately, things have not been going so well with Jaymes. When Jaymes isn't happy, no one is happy and when Jaymes stops sleeping, so do the rest of us.

Jaymes doesn't sleep anymore. He talks all night long, and slams his bedroom door all night long. Then when he gets bored, he goes back to destroying his room. His mattress was toast a looong time ago, but now he got the big bolts out of his bed and broke that, and he's broken most of the ceiling fan blades. We removed what was left as a safety thing so that he doesn't hang and have the whole thing come crashing down on him. No clue how he gets that high, nothing in his room is tall enough for him to stand on top and reach.

He's learned how to rip holes in the walls, and seems to greatly enjoy doing so. His carpet is only still there because he chooses for it to be- the tacks are all gone and so is the pad underneath. Every morning I fill up a trash bag worth of ripped, shredded carpet padding.

I had the idea to screw down the air vent covers in the floor, to keep Jaymes from throwing toys down and breaking the AC ducts... Bad idea, I guess. I used a drill and 2 inch long metal screws. He's gotten most up by hand, several of which ended up screwed INTO the electrical outlet. Jason got shocked trying to get the stupid screws out.

I don't know how he survives this stuff. He's the type of kid who would lick the screw after screwing it into the outlet. In all honesty, he should have been dead on his floor that morning. He has someone seriously looking out for him. I'm thinking a very large flock of angels. The kid almost kills himself daily, I don't get it. He's so creative about it too. The newest thing he will tell you is "we do not ever put diaper in the toaster." Because he did. And it melted. And burst into stinky flames. We got a new toaster, and it is hidden when not in use.

The cherry on top of this sundae of destruction came a couple weeks ago. Jaymes decided to take his beloved "friend" Blue Cup (yes, it's a blue plastic coffee cup) and fill it with poop. He then proceeded to walk around the room painting the walls, his toys, and his bedding. I threw Blue Cup away. Even I have limits on what I will and will not wash poop out of. I hope it taught him something.

School isn't going well, Jaymes is too hyped up and impulsive to accomplish much of anything. At least we got the teacher we love- that's a plus.

Psych saw him last week and we're trying Trazodone every night to make him sleep. So far, he's still mostly up but there have been some moments of silence so maybe... We upped his Risperdal, and left the rest alone. He's too small to keep increasing.

I've hit my limit. I hit it when I saw the screw in the outlet and when I saw a cup full of poop and a mural I had to scrape off the walls. I hit it when he called me a bitch (oh, whoever he got that from, may you rot in hell), and when he tried like crazy to attack me when trying to put him into his room for a time out for kicking his sister.

I am tired of being bitten, kicked, hit, spit and pooped on. I am tired of hearing "shut your mouth mommy" and "you close your mouth. No talking to Jaymes." I'm tired of the fear of all the new ways he could come up with to kill himself, and I'm tired of looking at that nightmare room that only last year was beautifully repainted. Why did I bother? Why on earth did I think that that would last any amount of time?

I've been asking various agencies for help for a month. Easter Seals, our case manager, Centerpoint, Triad First in Families... Centerpoint authorized 5 days of respite, but there wee no staff to do it. The Children's Home weekend respite was full. The best we could do was several different Easter Seals workers coming during the weekend to help. Better then nothing, but I needed (and still do) Jaymes out of the house. The first two weeks I cried non stop. Jason and I discussed putting him into therapeutic foster care or an institutional setting. I cried some more.

I thought we could beat this autism, like we could help Jaymes improve and eventually know that he'll be a happy and safe part of the community. This is not going to happen. For every skill he learns, he learns a new vice. For every good word he learns, he learns another ugly one. I don't want a 15 year old in diapers, beating the crap out of me. I really, really don't. If Jaymes were bigger, I and Sierra would have been seriously injured by now. I shudder thinking about the future.

I love my son, and I'm not giving up on him... But I need a break, and i need for autism to not be part of that break. We have three days approved, he goes to the foster home tonight until Thursday afternoon. Better than nothing. Trying to get him into the Murdoch Center TRACK program, a 45 day program that is essentially emergency respite. They do med management, and school and all that good stuff. 45 days would be a break. Three is barely a nap- but I'm not complaining, it's better than nothing.

I'm sick, have some kind of cold that settled in my chest. I've been battling weird reactions to antibiotics, ended up with a bunch of stitches after a fencing mishap... Oh, and my school semester just started. Overwhelmed? You have NO IDEA.

So if it seems like I'm hiding in a little hole, I am. I'm hiding from life, from family, from blogging, from friends. It's pathetic, but that's where I am at.

I went with a friend to church the other day. I am as far from religious as you can get, but it was nice. The music was good and a lot of what was said during the service felt like it was written right for me. Maybe doing the church thing will be useful- if not for religious reasons, for social reasons.

Anyway, that's where we are, and why there have been no blog posts, no book reviews, and no product reviews. They're coming, once I get out of this funk.