This has not been a great year for mental health in my household. In September I had to confront my hoarding while trying to move out of a large two bedroom apartment into a small one bedroom. I sent out a message on Facebook asking for help and my friends came through. A couple of weeks ago they had an intervention for me where they read a prepared statement and said that if I don't get my shit together that they would have to go to the authorities (two of them are mandated reporters) because my kitchen was really gross. I was not entirely surprised and not really upset. I already felt like I hosted my own intervention when I asked for help on the internet and nine friends showed up. My house is in order now. I'm actually excited to have people come over and see my setup for the first time in years.

My son (the wee mommet) is not doing so well though. He started middle school this year and the transition has been painful. He has an autism spectrum disorder, an anxiety disorder, and he is gay (or possibly bi: he hasn't figured it out exactly, which is totally fine). His elementary school was very relaxed and the kids were well behaved. Middle school is a different story though: there are lots of boisterous kids (sometimes in what I would consider a fun way, sometimes not), many of whom express themselves physically, and sometimes violently. My wee mommet does not like to be touched without his permission, and interprets every bump or push as a personal attack. Any time someone says 'gay' in a derogatory way, he feels that it's aimed at him. It may be at times. Despite tons of intervention from the staff, his anxiety about school has grown and grown.

Last week he told me that he hated his life and wanted to stab himself. We got in the car and headed to the hospital. I called his psychiatrist en route. My wee mommet has been seeing her since third grade, the first time he threatened suicide. He had already been seeing a therapist about his anxiety and depression, but she could not see him anymore after his threat of suicide. (It was a university program and had very strict rules I guess. I was pissed.) We spent the rest of that morning in the emergency room, and the next two days included meetings with psychiatrists and social workers. I got a reminder call from the school psychologist to put the knives out of reach. (They are on top of the fridge now.)

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I'm working on finding him a new school. The doctors and social workers are united in recommending against any kind of home-schooling, even internet-based. They feel like he needs to keep home as a safe space for decompression. Indeed, he spent part of this morning composing music as a way to relax. It started out very somber (lots of organ), then progressed to something more dance-able. I doubt that it would have been nearly as therapeutic in an environment that he thought of as "school."

Right now he's eating ramen and seems calm. I am exhausted. I'm not even really sure why I'm sharing all of this except that I don't really know where else to share it. One of my friends is dying and two are having babies, so I didn't want to burden them. I did tell a couple of friends, and one (a teacher) offered to help me scout new schools.

Anyway, thanks for letting me vent. I would welcome any advice or suggestions, especially if you have experience in this area.