Pants were not on the agenda yesterday.
I'm so close to the end of my next release. So close, I can almost smell the happy ending twisting with the scent of autumn leaves falling outside my window. Monday morning, I set myself a goal.
Finish this book.
So, yesterday I did what I've done every morning since becoming a full-time writer. I packed my kids up for school, sent them off, poured myself a steaming cup of joe, and opened my manuscript. Wrapped in my bathroom, I was right on the edge, teetering on the precipice of a well deserved HEA when the phone call happened.
You see, I have a son with ASD, ADHD, clinical depression, and anxiety. Writing it out in black and white, it seems like such a heavy diagnosis, but it's become another part of our everyday routine. A's well being is almost like a 5th member in our family of 4. He's overcome so much, but it's always there, lingering like smoke. The possibility of a fast decline, another break, another suicide attempt ...
He's been holding strong, and I'm so proud of the man he's begun to grow into.
Then yesterday happened.
A routine visit with his school psychologist took a frightening turn when he'd written on a form that he didn't see the point of life. He's been seeing things, hearing things, was convinced people wanted to hurt him. He was being dismissed from school on the grounds that he be given a full psychiatric assessment that stated he was in the right state of mind to return.
I wasn't prepared. I wasn't even wearing pants.
I'd coasted on the notion that we'd given him the tools to succeed. I stupidly assumed we'd jumped the hurdle and could stroll along the rest of the way, but shit happens. Life puts more stumbling blocks in your path when you aren't looking. Sometimes you trip and fall. Other times, you take the leap and hope you make it.
This morning, I presented a team of professionals at the school with a letter from my son's doctor assuring them that he's not a threat to himself or anyone else. When the bell rang, he hiked up his backpack and blended in with the rest of his classmates.
It's not the happy ending I set out to find when I started the week, but it's a small victory I'm happy to take.