In An Instant, His Face Changed, and No One Heard My Cries for Help

To promote #AuthenticAwareness, a mother of a son with severe autism shares the enduring trauma of a brutal attack

By Janie Brown

As a very private person, this is difficult for me to write, but I am doing so for the opportunity to help others understand the challenges that severe autism presents. My son is 18 years old. He tests as an 18 month old socially, and 1 year 9 months verbally. He is a loving, sweet young man the majority of the time, but there is always a sense of  looming instability.

There have been too many instances of aggression for me to describe in detail, so I will share the most recent one, the one that shook me to my core.

Last month, I was at home alone with my son. He was bouncing on his yoga ball, listening to his songs on his iPad. I was cooking, and keeping a close eye and ear on him. He came into the kitchen, and sat on the floor. It seemed that he wanted my attention, so I sat on the floor next to him, and proceeded to give him tickles, kisses, scratches, and back rubs…. That's when it happened, in an instant, his face changed, and his pupils dilated. He grabbed a hold of my hair with both hands. I was unable to get out of his grip, and he would not relent.  

The hair pulling turned to hair ripping, then to scratching, and then to biting, as I was pinned to the floor by all 6 feet, 200 pounds of him. No one heard my cries for help, and I just prayed to God to give me one second to get out of his grip. 

About 10 minutes into the attack, as his teeth drew blood on my forearm, I was able to push him off to get away. I ran upstairs, not sure how, and locked myself in my room. I called my husband, and couldn't even speak into the phone.

By the time he arrived, my son had settled, but I hadn't. One month later, I still haven't.

If I had been mugged in the street by a stranger, it would certainly leave a lasting impression… but I would have learned to do things differently… maybe I wouldn't walk down that street anymore, maybe I would learn to walk without a purse, maybe I would always make sure to walk with a friend for safety. But, when it's your child, in your own home, there is no certainty, and prevention isn't foolproof.

I am always on edge, expecting it to happen at any time. Even a seemingly "good day" is no guarantee. I love him with all my heart, but I can't put this event completely behind me… even with the sixth medication added to his daily regimen… even with my oldest son sacrificing his leisure time to make me feel safe in my own home. There's always a sense of impending doom… a sense of failure… a sense of surrender because of all the medications his psychiatrist prescribes that I reluctantly dispense... most days I feel that failed as his mom.

My son is a joy to us all. He has the sweetest smile, and the most innocent interactions. He still loves his teddy bears, Baby Einstein, and something as simple as "clapping."

When he “snaps," it’s not him. We can't ease his fear/panic/loss of self control. It's the saddest thing to see my son lose himself, and be unable to help him. I just hope he feels how much we adore him, and I hope he knows that all we do to prevent these outbursts from reoccurring is the only way we can help him. I pray that the newest medication he has started will stop these outbursts, but I also wish it didn't have to come to him taking psychotropic medications with side effects he can't express.  

I hope that with enough understanding and awareness, individuals like my son and their families will be able to obtain the help they deserve.

Thank you for the opportunity to be able to share a piece of our lives.

Janie Brown is a pseudonym for a mother of a severely autistic son.