Today,I really hate myself. Some days it's really hard to live up to the level of fairytale-like sainthood that outsiders believe parents of autistic children achieve. Some day I'll have the guts to say to the next person that tells me, "You are such a wonderful parent, God must have chosen you to be Billy's special angel", I'd tell them, "Hey, I'd like to see you get hit by a car so I can say look how much God loves you!" But I never do. It's just that on days like today...

Most days I can cope because I've built a "world of other normalcy", a place where others looking in would think things are crazy, but for us, it's just business as usual. But now, having read your story, Mrs. Bauer, member of this strange club, the tears running down my face remind me of a long ago time that really was "normal." And I feel that mixture of pain, and anger, and wistful sadness and great big gobs of guilt, because, much as I love my son, there are days when I also hate him. And I hate myself for thinking it.

Dear AKA

No I don’t think you’re an alcoholic. I think you are a concerned citizen, just like the rest of the generous people who take time out of their schedules to agree or disagree with someone’s point of view.

I may not agree with some of your opinions, but I would defend your right to speak and write them.

RE: The alcohol remark. You sounded like you were an anti-drug person – completely against all drug usage. I was guessing that you had an occasional beer or hi-ball or glass of wine, and I was attempting to point out a possible double standard. Even a responsible drinker is using a drug. I have no problem with irresponsible drinking, just so no one else is endangered by it. I believe we should take personal responsiblilty for what we consume. Coffee is also a drug. I don't think it needs to be feared or banned either.

RE: The Pop Warner remark. Pop Warner was the creator of little league football. My crack was an inference that you had not truly understood my point of view and for that reason, you belonged in a children’s league. You know how it is, when faced with anger, one often responds in anger; not very nice, but tit for tat. I apologize – In truth, I know nothing about you at all.

Here’s my point. As I explained in a prior response entitled Family Sadness, I have experienced both sides of the prescription drug syndrome. On a personal note, I will tell you that my mother has a heart condition and must take daily doses of a blood thinner called Cuminin. It is a prescription drug. It has given her 20 additional years of life. She would be dead without it. In a very real sense she is ADDICTED to it.

I applaud the effectiveness of that drug and also her addiction to it.

I offer this as an example of how prescription drugs and the word ‘addition’ itself can be misunderstood by well intentioned people.

I hope I have satisfied your questions. Thanks for taking the time to respond.

How unfortunate that Ann Bauer's son became depressed at about the same time as the catatonic changes occurred. It was good to read that she did not rush her son to the doctors, and terrible that the misdiagnosis and drug abuse followed.

However, how well are most people able to provide first aid for the depressed, or even to help themselves work through it more quickly? These are the questions that I find myself asking.

What time of the year is it? Are light levels dropping, could SAD (seasonal affect depression) be kicking in?

How good is my diet?

Have I been getting enough vitamin B?

Have I had antibiotics in the last 12 months? Have I eaten enough yoghurt and probiotics since to ensure that my intestinal flora is healthy and producing the B vitamins I need?

I know that as the depression is falling I have to move, move, move, get my heart rate up and create the benefits of rigorous exercise.

Depression is a terrible illness, and sometimes antidepressent drugs are necessary, but in a large number of cases basic first aid is more than adequate to throw it off, or reduce its symptoms to ones that are manageable. Antidepressents should not be the beginning of the treatment, but the third or fourth step.

"But the psychiatrist and the psychologist and several family members insisted: He'd become unhappy, his routines were getting in the way of his developing a social life. This pill, they said, would help him."

I can understand how a psychiatrist might push a pill: such a person is medically trained. A psychologist on the other hand has no business applying a medical model to human experience. Family end up putting too much faith in medically trained people in any case.

My life was messed up by psychopharmoceuticals when I was a child; and I have written about this in a book edited by Dinah Murray ('Coming Out Asperger'), so I shall not add too much here, except to state that Ann Bauer's son went through some of the same things that I did.

I am now an educational psychologist and, even if I think that there may be a use for medications with autistic people, I cannot see them as anything more than something to augment or kick-start an intervention that has more of an educational basis. Medication has no educational value, and this has been demonstrated in studies with schizophrenic patients (where CBT was shown to be more effective than medication alone or meduication with CBT).

*psychopharmaceuticals

Hello Ann

You are a great writer and mom. I wish you the very best.

Laurie

Earlier, I presented the top favorite phrases of psychologists and psychiatrists. They were:

Psychologists' favorite phrase: "I'm sorry, your time is up, pay the receptionist on the way out."

Psychiatrists' favorite phrase: "Your brain chemistry is deficient in (you name it), I want you to get on this pill and stay on it for the rest of your life."

So here's the second favorite phrases of each:

Psychologists' second favorite phrase: "I don't have the answers, I'm here to help YOU find the answers."

Psychiatrists' second favorite phrase: "Why do you have to stay on psycho-dope for the rest of your life? Well, if you were a diabetic, you wouldn't complain about taking insulin for the rest of your life, would you? It's the same thing."

To which I would reply:

To the psychologist: "You are burning through people's life savings, or breaking the piggy bank of some insurance company, to the tune of up to $200 per 50 minutes to sit in a comfortable chair and you have no obligation whatsoever to produce a measurable result. Unlike any other profession including prostitution, you don't have to deliver any satisfaction or relief to your client. You simply have to sit there, bored out of your skull and numbly listen to some schmuck spill his guts. You could be daydreaming about your boat. I wish I had changed my major in college because clearly you've found a way to make money without doing a damned thing.

To the psychiatrist: "OK, you say I need to stay on (name the drug) for the rest of my life because I have an imbalance in my brain chemistry, poisoning my liver and putting your kids, and the kids of the stockholders of Boroughs-Welcome through Yale. So prove it. Where's the metric? Where's the physical measuring test of how much serotonin I've got, or don't have? Oh. I see. There is no test. You can't measure serotonin in the brain. So how do I know you're telling the truth? Oh. I see. I have to "trust" you on that. Um hmm. Aren't you the same guy who gets an all-expenses paid vacation in St. Bart's every winter to attend a "medical conference" put on by ... (wait for it) ...

Boroughs-Welcome? Look man, I might be as crazy as you say I am, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid."