Our eldest son is 10. Gabe is so sweet. He's so funny, silly and eager to get a laugh out of anyone within earshot. To say that he marches to the beat of his own drum is an understatement. He's shy and outgoing at the same time. He's optimistic, but a pessimist within the same breath. He loves to be the center of attention, but is a wallflower too. He's so friendly and helpful, yet other times he won't make eye contact or speak to anyone. He's a walking conundrum and I couldn't be more in love with who he is.
He's had some "quirks" for a very long time. Since birth, almost. Little things that never really added up to anything for me. They were just Gabe. Part of who he is. He's picky and he's stubborn and he likes things just so. Most kids do, so I never paid it much attention. It becomes a battle sometimes though. He barely eats and is practically a vegan because he just hates so many things. It has almost nothing to do with taste and everything to do with texture. He just can't stand the texture of most meats. Clothing is another battle. Jeans are almost always a no go. He hates the way the feel. Any pants/shorts are a battle though. They have to sit just so on his waist. They can't be too tight, but they can't be too loose either. They have to be a certain material. If the button or strings touch him, he doesn't like that. The list goes on and on. I used to think it was just a "quirk" and would force him to do things anyway. It's just a pair of jeans, suck it up, buttercup. It was like torture to him though. I slowly learned that it wasn't just a pair of jeans - not to him. It really was torture. What nails on a chalkboard sounds like to me is what jeans on his legs feels like to him. He just can't stand it.
Over time, as he's gotten older, these little "quirks" have grown into more disruptive things. He can't be in a sitting position without a foot underneath him or his legs pulled into his chest. Not so great when you have to sit in class all day. Thoughts pop into his head that he just can't stop thinking about unless he states them out loud. Even if they don't pertain to anything that's going on, if it's in his head, it simply must come out. He becomes so focused on some things that it becomes an actual obsession. He eats, sleeps and breathes whatever he's focused on. His essays in class are all about this one topic and he spends hours studying and mastering it. Right now, it just so happens to be Minecraft. A game lots of kids enjoy and play, but there's a literal obsession there for Gabe.
There are other key factors that lead into having a discussion with his school counselor, but a discussion did happen. I cried, of course. I thought it was no big deal and I was just going to express my concerns, but having to say out loud to another person that I was worried that something might be "wrong" with my child was gut-wrenching. He's smart and funny and quirky. He's my sweet Gabe. There's nothing "wrong" with him. I hate the idea that anyone will ever view him as anything but a smart, funny guy. So admitting that I had some concerns that something might be wrong was just..... it was unfathomable to me that I'd ever say it. There I was though.
His teacher and counselor were incredibly supportive. We talked about a few things that could be going on and, just to rule it out, decided to assess him for Autism. I filled out an assessment and his teacher filled out an assessment. We didn't come up with exactly the same observations, and that's okay. What she sees during the day and what I see during the day are going to be two different things. When I got that assessment back and it read, "Very Likely" in reference to being within the Autism spectrum, the whole world stopped spinning. Everything went silent, yet my mind was screaming out. I've never experienced such silence yet chaos at the same time. My child; my perfect little angel that drives me insane and makes me laugh all in the same moments; may be Autistic. What. Did. I. Do. Wrong?
That's all I could think. What did I do wrong? What did I do to cause this? Why did I wait so long to get him assessed? Could I have helped him earlier and maybe he'd be okay? Is it too late? Will this affect him negatively for the rest of his life? What are others going to say about him? Will he be judged and immediately pushed aside because of a diagnosis? My mind wouldn't shut off. Thank God for a supportive husband who gave me a hug and whispered, "Gabe is still Gabe" in my ear while I sobbed. In that moment, I stopped freaking out. He was so right. Gabe is still Gabe. This doesn't "mean" anything. All it does is give us a diagnosis that we can work with. A diagnosis that we can take to his school, a therapist and doctors to get the resources and tools necessary to help him. There's still nothing "wrong" with him. He's still smart, funny and marches to the beat of his own drum. Now though, we can help him at least march on step to the beat of that drum (is that a dorky analogy?) We can help him cope with some of his sensitivities. We can give him tools on how to appropriately react to situations that make him uncomfortable. We can retrain his brain to understand that overwhelming sensations or thoughts aren't as overwhelming as he thinks they are.
I find myself excited for the next steps. His doctor concurs with the schools assessment and has referred us on to a developmental center that will assess him more thoroughly to get more specific resources and tools in place for him. Sure, he may be Autistic, but he's incredibly high functioning and will do perfectly fine in life. Gabe keeps asking, "What's that disorder called again? Awesome?" and he just smiles. I don't know if he's trying to comfort me or just be his usual silly self, but I love it every time he says it. I've already had a few of those insensitive people that ask "What's wrong with him?" when he acts certain ways. I think he's on the right track. The next time someone says that, I'll just smile and respond with, "He's awesome."
