The door is locked. Not to keep anyone out—to keep your 14-year-old from running into traffic again. You haven't left the house in six days. The last time you tried, he smeared feces on the walls while your respite worker sobbed in the bathroom.
You can't remember your last full night of sleep. Two hours, maybe three, stolen between the screaming and the bed checks and the 3 AM medication doses. Your bladder aches because you've been holding it for an hour—you can't leave him alone long enough to pee. The windows have plexiglass covers now. The kitchen knives live in your car trunk.
Your friends stopped calling years ago. Your marriage exists in exhausted glances across a room that smells like industrial cleaner and something you can't identify anymore. Somewhere, people are going to restaurants. Taking vacations. Sleeping.
You love your child with a ferocity that terrifies you. And you also fantasize about walking out the front door and never coming back. The guilt of that thought sits in your chest like a stone.
If you've ever felt like a prisoner in your own home—loving your child completely while drowning in the reality of their care—this post is for you.
Understanding What's Happening
First, I need you to know something: the physical exhaustion you're feeling is real. It's not weakness. It's not failure. It's the weight of carrying more than any one person should carry alone, often for years without adequate support.
And this is critically important: struggling with your situation is not the same as struggling with your child. You are allowed to grieve the life you imagined. You are allowed to feel rage at a system that has failed you, at friendships that couldn't stretch far enough, at a world that doesn't see the invisible labor happening behind closed doors. The isolation that comes with constant care needs—the inability to use the bathroom alone, to take a nap, to exist as a separate human being—this is a crisis. Not a parenting challenge. A crisis.
Strategies That Often Help
You cannot pour from a bone-dry well, and asking for help is not abandoning your child. Here are concrete steps that have made a difference for many families:
Start with one small action this week:
- Call your state's developmental disabilities office
- Contact a local autism society chapter
- Reach out to a respite care agency
- If phone calls feel overwhelming, write one email instead
Explore funding options you may not know about:
- Many states have emergency respite funds that go unused because families don't know they exist
- Check whether your child qualifies for a Medicaid waiver that covers in-home support hours
- These waitlists are often long, but getting on the list is the first step toward relief
Take your own health seriously:
- If you're experiencing physical symptoms like chest pain or chronic exhaustion, tell your doctor
- Your body is trying to communicate that something needs to change
- You deserve medical care and attention too
Remember this truth: You have been a warrior, possibly for years. It's time for someone to fight for you. There are thousands of parents navigating this same struggle, sitting in their own difficult moments, who need someone to say: this is too much for one person, and you are not failing by admitting that.
You're Not Alone
If you're navigating this challenge, you don't have to figure it out alone at 2 AM. AriaStar is here 24/7 at NeuroLink Bridge - no judgment, just support from someone who understands autism family life.
Looking for more support? Explore our free resources or meet AriaStar.