Autism and Wandering
It’s just after 11pm. My nonverbal autistic son is usually (and by usually I mean always) in bed (and by bed I mean on the floor behind the door of his room) by 8:45pm.
Not tonight.
Dawson has been impressing me with all of his newly founded abilities, which he performs independently.
Putting his dishes in the sink. Putting his shoes away.
Pulling his pants up when he is done with the restroom.
Climbing on top of things to access what he feels he needs…you wouldn’t believe the type of coordination and motor skills involved with that!
I am thoroughly impressed with all that he has learned to do, for the most part.
Tonight, for the first time, Dawson has decided to turn the light on in his room after I’ve declared bedtime.
He also learned how to open his bedroom door, and go downstairs.
Part of me wants to shout from the rooftops how proud I am of his new accomplishments. But almost all of me has been overcome by my crippling fears and anxiety.
I know my son. I know the curiosity. And I know the wandering statistics.
After 12 unsuccessful attempts to lay Dawson back down for bed, I have all but given up on any effort to sleep tonight. How can I?
Even if I am somehow able to get him to stay in his room, what if he gets up again?
What if he goes downstairs, climbs on the counter and gets a hold of a knife?
I suppose I could hide them. But then there’s the disinfectant treasure chest under the kitchen sink.
I could hide all of the cleaning agents too. I should probably find a place for the trash bags and ziplocks too. He could suffocate.
I better hide the forks. He could decide to hold one while tip toeing and fall. Jab one through his eye.
What if he gets a snack and chokes? I haven’t figured out what to do about the oven. I know for certain he can turn that on, and open the door.
Let’s assume though, that none of this were even a possibility (although it very much is).
What if Dawson figures out how to unlock the deadbolt tonight? What if he goes outside?
What if he wanders into the river? Assuming he first makes it past the highway in my back yard.
This is no exaggeration. This is the reality of my motherhood.
Autism has no boundaries, and no breaks. The fears are very real. The anxiety is 24/7.
And the worry….It is every moment, of every day, for the rest of my life.
Written by, Chelsey Grendon
You can follow Chelsey and her family at Discovering Dawson and on Facebook.
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