Imagine it – a new baby, beautiful, bright, happy. What a good baby – sleeps at night, eats well, smiles and meets his milestones.
Then – at year 2, still no words. Year 3 – rage – uncontrollable rage, for no obvious reason.
Year 5 – fleeing from teachers, hiding under desks. Year 9 – getting expelled for throwing desks, biting, kicking, punching. Still can’t read.
Year 12 – self-injury, suicidal thoughts, psychiatric hospitalizations. Can’t be in school. Year 14 – pacing, talking to himself, violent, homicidal, suicidal.
This is the story of my continuing journey, raising my schizoaffective son. I welcome the curious, the cautious, the afflicted and their friends and families.
Image by Alborzshawn