Sleep.  I need sleep!!

Seems Jocelin was at it again: banging her head against the wall, crying ...  I was hoping she would settle down and finally close her eyes in sleep, but nothing doing ...

Jocelin, 11, has a severe form of autism.  She doesn't talk, and won't look at people.  It's as if she's in her own little world.  She is almost a teenager, but looks younger (small for her age, very thin), and she certainly acts younger.  Jocelin is not toilet-trained (she was, but it's like she's forgotten how).  She only eats macaroni and cheese or tomatoes (or, for breakfast, Cheerios).  That's it.  She refuses to eat or try anything else.  

We knew something was wrong with our daughter when, around the age of two, she stopped talking or learning; it's as if she reverted backwards.  After undergoing extensive testing, it was discovered that our baby girl was autistic.

The news, as you can imagine, was devastating.  

Jocelin  functions at the level of a one-year-old.  As Joccie gets older, it's getting harder and harder to manage her.

Jocelin spends her days rocking in the corner (or wherever she sits), biting herself, looking out the window, pointing at objects, staring at things that we cannot see,  hitting herself, waving her fingers by her face, holding objects such as car keys, spoons, or puzzle pieces at all times, or coloring (usually on the walls; the walls in her bedroom and in the upstairs hallway are decorated with her "artwork").

This is when she isn't at school.  At school, we don't have to worry about her so much because other people are tending to her.  When she is not home, we can breathe a sigh of relief and clean up the debris path that our little human tornado caused.

We cry because we know that our child will never be able to go on a date, drive a car, get a job, unless it's at a sheltered workshop for handicapped adults), or even get married and have children.

Jocelin will never have what one would call a "normal" life because she is so behind developmentally.

And now Jocelin is at it again.  I hear the thumping of her head against her bedroom wall.  I am sure she will have big, red welts or bumps on her head again.  It always seems to be the case when she has one of her tizzies.

Oh, God.  A crash --- must go ---