Autism, Mental Health and the Labelling of Monster

It’s time.

For those of you that know me, I hate labels, short cuts and excuses.

For other people.
I LOVE short cuts and excuses if they are mine.

And though we’ve been struggling with Monster in many ways since he was a toddler, he was so unique, so outside the different labels that we heard suggested or considered, or mumbled over the past few years, I never pushed to have one because it seemed at the time more like an excuse than a necessity.

In fact, I may have pushed against one.

If my child obviously fit a mould, I would have embraced whatever label was suggested to get him help.  But most of the time, most of the time he only grazes the top.  He doesn’t fit the box, the criteria, the different expectations for a kid with the various labels that have been offered.

So I just said no.

Monster has an imagination that makes you wish you could see what he sees while he runs, jumps and sings his own theme music around the room.

He’s been working computers and video game consoles and tablets since he was a toddler.  Usually, better than we can.  And at 4 I already knew he was a gamer.  Which is strange for us, since his dad and I aren’t.  We have considered sending him to live with my brother.

He loves puzzles and wants to know each detailed bio of each obscure super hero.

He makes you laugh.  He has the best grin.  He is affectionate and cuddly and will never hug on demand but will always hug on his whim.

He wears costumes and capes and two different shoes and cowboy boots with shorts.

Dispite that, I never wanted being a little different to be something he needed to carry with him like a badge.

And yet.

And yet he struggles.

He struggles because people confuse him.

Because he doesn’t always understand what you mean when you use non-verbal cues instead of being direct.

Because you have emotions he doesn’t understand.

Because there are things that are just inappropriate and most of us just *know* that.  But he doesn’t really get how we know that.

For example:

You can’t show people your private areas.

You can’t touch everything or everyone just to know what it/he/she feels like.

You can’t punch someone in the face and expect that they know they deserved it and are still your friend.

Life is full of things you can’t do that don’t make sense to Monster.

And this week, on my what has become weekly visit to see the principal for his behavior, though we’ve been sitting on the fence, questioning and helping and raising eyebrows for years, for the first time the professional in the room looked at me and said:

“Maybe, it’s time.

We thought he would outgrow this, but he has not.

It should be getting easier but it’s getting harder.

We’ve offered him all the services we know how to give on our own.

We need more support so he can be the most adjusted kid he can be and reach his potential.

There’s no more that we can do here without help.

 Maybe it’s time we moved forward with a diagnosis.”

And it didn’t sting as much when she said the words ‘autism‘ and ‘mental health‘ as I had envisioned it would all these years that we’ve wondered if maybe there is something more.

And even though I still think that some kids are just different and that not everyone needs to be labeled just because they don’t fit the mould, I do know one thing.

I’d rather a label that seeks him support, than a label that looks more like a big red ‘Behavior Problem’ stamp.

If the only way I can access what I need to ensure he is seen for who he is instead of how he sometimes acts, then I can go there.

The way the system works now is I have some neat little box signed off by the doctor so I can seek help instead of band aids, so that I can take classes instead of sit in the principals office, so I can teach him instead of only punish him.

So we move forward, with assessments and paperwork and all that we need to do to assess whatever it is that makes how my son learns different than the others.

It will take months and I can only still hope by then it will still feel like the right thing.

The world isn’t going to change to accommodate my child, but I need help if I am going to teach my child to work in the world while still being who he is.

I pray I can be that mom.

Because my biggest fear is not that he is different.

My biggest fear is that he will one day stop singing his own theme music.

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