I wish my son had friends. Not even a lot of friends, just one or two would be great. Like-minded guys (or girls) he could hang out with, go to movies with, play video games with, go for a pizza with.
Who am I kidding? I know with a fair amount of certainty that that probably is not going to happen. I don't mean to say it's hopeless, but after 20 years of throwing social interactions at him in the hopes that something would stick, I don't see it in the cards for Zachary. He is a solitary person.
But here's the thing: he likes and enjoys his solitude. Who am I to interfere?
When he was 4 or 5, we (the mothers in our therapeutic nursery) would always get together with the kids, pushing and prodding, having activities and crafts and outings in the hopes that we would all fall into the wonderfully normal life of normal parents and kids having a good time with friends. The grown-ups would have a good time, but we were constantly corralling our kids, directing their interactions, instructing them in how to play, to share toys, how to be with each other. It was fun, but exhausting.
In elementary education, Zac was in a variety of situations. A transitional kindergarten, a closed classroom, integration into regular classrooms with a "shadow". He mixed with a variety of kids with different needs, and some who were just regular kids. There were initial attempts by others to interact with Zac, but he would have none of it. And predictably, after a while, they left him alone.
We've spent thousands upon thousands of dollars on social skills classes for this child. And he has picked up some rudimentary social "routines" he knows are expected of him in certain situations. But he's picked up no friends along the way. From the age of about 8 he's been on medication basically for anxiety and some obsessive/compulsive traits, which required periodic visits to a very nice and somewhat understanding psychopharmacologist (shouldn't every child have one?). On these visits he would ask Zac about what he'd been doing, about school, his activities, if he had developed any friendships. Always with the friends.
And then on one visit , Zac articulated what I truly believe is his take on things. After the thousandth time of asking about friends, the doctor wondered aloud why Zac seemed to not want friends. And my son said simply, "Because I think they would interfere with my lifestyle."
And there it was -- like a revelation to me. Ah ha!
Zachary was never one of those autism/aspergers kids who desired to have friends, but could never figure out the social intricacies that opened the door to friendships. He was never at the window, looking out as others played, wanting to join in but not knowing how. Looking back, I realize I was the only one with the heavy heart as I watched my little boy all by himself.
Today, Zac is still a solitary being. But today, as when he was younger, he is comfortable in his solitude. Happy, even. He has interests and pursuits: computer, sports (he follows them all and goes to games with his dad), cars, movies, tv, books, video games. He reads the Post and Daily News. He's been taking computer courses at the local community college towards a computer support certificate and perhaps even an associates degree. He works per diem at a company that employs people with disabilities as a data entry specialist (their title, not mine), and once a week attends a "job club" at his agency that helps him troubleshoot any problems on the job. On good days I tell myself it could be worse. But, of course, it could be better.
I have come to an understanding with my son as to his status as an island in this sea of humanity. So, okay, you don't have to be Mr. Sociability (as if!). But you do have to learn to navigate and deal with other people in the course of your day-to-day life. You may want to be alone, but you cannot live entirely alone. You have to deal with people in a variety of situations: the store clerk, the waiter, your class instructor, the bank teller, the guy who cuts your hair, your family and relatives. Our dogs. And on and on. This concept is a work-in-progress.
And so it goes. Perhaps one day he'll turn a corner and things will change. He could find someone on the same wavelength -- a fellow autistic traveler; or a nice bossy girl who will take over looking after him. Maybe he'll get a cat! We all change as we grow and get older. Who's to say he won't?
I will remain eternally optimistic. For now.
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