32. A Lot Like Dali

Summertime in Harlingen meant more time at home. It was often too hot to be outside. I loved our apartment but it was a cracker box. Although we were on the end, with an apartment behind us, on the side and one above us, I worried about my neighbors hearing the screams. I was amazed there were no inquiries, no expressed concern, no reports for suspected child abuse. I constantly braced myself for a knock on the door. I'm sure I mentioned the autism to my neighbors but still, a child was screaming at the top of his lungs on a regular basis. I was screaming too. 

Looking back I could have handled things so much better but I was hellbent on doing things when I wanted them done. There was no way autism was going to dictate my life. I fought it every step of the way. I dug in. I was not going to lose. There were many problems with my approach but the main one was that Sean was in the middle. 

I was fighting an abstraction. I was wearing myself out. I was wearing Sean and the family down. I was angry that it stole my son from me. It was a thief and I was going to take back what it took from me. 

I learned, years and years later, that in order to coexist with autism, I had to think in abstract terms. I had to treat it like a member of the family (someone a lot like Salvador Dali) with all of his surrealism, overtones and undertones. I'm having to learn to look at the behavior like I look at art and think, "What does it mean?" and say, "I don't care what it means, it is beautiful to me. It moves me".

"Surrealism is destructive, but it destroys only what it considers to be shackles limiting our vision." ~ Salvador Dali