Yesterday was a relatively calm day. The big blowout on Saturday seems to have kept the "rages" in check. My son now knows I'm willing to play hard ball and take away his "pacifier" (the headphones).
We had breakfast together after he turned off the refrigerator and then watched "Sunday Morning". After his failed attempt to negotiate unlimited media for keeping his headphones off while using currently banned electronics, he retreated to his usual spot, the downstairs half-bath.
In the late afternoon, my husband volunteered to take Colin to a movie. They decided, by process of elimination, to see the new Percy Jackson flick. Before they left, Colin had me purchase some piano sheet music for "Someone to Watch Over Me" by George Gershwin and sat down for a short time at the piano with it. We have a piano lesson tomorrow and I will attempt to take him there after his cross-country meet. I am concerned about the 5 mile journey in my car.
The next few hours, with Colin out of the house we were able to run the air conditioner. My middle-son and I both took showers as well so that the water heater would not be activated later that evening. I had a chance for some rest and quiet reflection.
Chilling out in Colin's new unused loft-bedroom, enveloped by a bean-bag chair, I reflected on our battle with Misophonia. It is hard to believe it's been less than two months since the Psychologist confirmed what we were facing. These past several weeks have been heartbreaking as my loving child morphs into an angry stranger.
Colin is my third son who was born right before I turned 42. He is my baby and we were extremely close. My brother-in-law affectionately nicknamed Colin my "Tumor" because he was always by my side, attached at the hip. Earlier this year I had been trying to have him "dial it back" a bit with the constant hugging, kisses and excessive messages of love. My husband and two older boys have been pressuring me to discourage this behavior.
Up until we took him to the psychologist, Colin would constantly repeat " I love you , Mom" , "You're the best!" especially when I was driving with him in the car. I would tell him that I knew this and I loved him too but he was starting to freak me out. I told him that I worried that he kept repeating these love messages as if he was trying to convince himself. I now wonder if this was really the case. Was the car triggering thoughts of hate? I may never know but I miss those hugs and messages.
I'd give anything to have that boy back again.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia: Misophonia, literally “hatred of sound”,[1] is believed[2] to be a neurological disorder characterized by negative experiences (anger, flight, hatred, disgust) triggered by specific sounds. This Blog chronicles our adventures with my youngest son who suffers from this disorder.
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