FSE

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I carried Dr Stevenson back to my home, walking carefully with him as always. I'm still not comfortable holding people in my hand or walking with them. Still, he is probably right and I should get over it

My parents were waiting on the balcony when I arrived and waved me over to place my head down so they could hug me. It may seem odd, but even those little hugs mean a great deal to me. It is not as if there is much else they can do I suppose. I sighed as they started to scratch along my jaw.

"Are you alright, son?" Dad asked.

"I'm ok, dad."

"Alright. We just worry. David called and told us what happened."

I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"It's more her fault, Jason, though you shouldn't have reacted that way."

"Sean, you know how hard it is for him!" Mom said

"I know hun, but he still needs to learn to control himself."

"Let's not get him riled up again, shall we?" Dr Stevenson suggested.

Dad glared at Dr Stevenson for a moment, then sighed. "You're right."

I sighed. They don't mean anything by it, but even my parents will talk like I'm not there or don't understand what's happening to me. It's frustrating when people do that. Or when they speak in slow, measured tones as if I'm too stupid to understand.

"There's nothing to be gained by hashing it over," mom said soothingly.

"I know, and I'm sorry, son."

"That's ok, dad."

Dr Stevenson looked at me for a long moment, hesitating. "Jason, I'm going to need you to lie down."

I looked at him, confused by the request. "Why?"

"You've been far to upset lately, far too angry."

I grumbled. "I'm not some mental paitent that needs an intervention!"

"I never said you were, Jason," he said soothingly

"Then why are suggesting I need to be held down? I'm not a child!"

"That's not it and you know it. Now just lay down, Jason. You know it relaxes you. You're far, far too wound up even still."

I"m calm!"

"Yes, so much so that you're almost shouting. David is here, your parents are, I'm here. If you would like we will call over whomever else you would like."

I grumbled. "I don't like it!"

"Jason, please son," mom said. "It works, you know it works and you feel better afterwards."

"It's foolish!"

"Not if it works, Jason," David said, walking out onto the balcony. "Now come on, we're set up and ready for you. You're going to argue with us but you'll do it anyway."

Something triggered within me. "I can just walk off!"

Dr Stevenson grabbed on to one of my fingers. "Not without hurting one or more of us. Go lay down, Jason."

I wanted to argue, to fight with them, but finally just gave up. I hated this, hated being made to do it, hated to admit that they're right. The same technique used on humans to help with sensory overload helps with me as well, using a weighted blanket and being close to friends and family. Usually, they sit on my chest.

It's frustrating as I have to calm my flight instincts which leaves only the fear and anxiety. They provide the calming presence for me and....it's just hard to let go. It's hard to be humbled to that state. I still have my pride and dignity, no matter what is done to me, and this just seems....

I'm just not sure.

"Come on, son," mom said soothingly."Go on."

I sighed and nodded and went to my bed and lay myself out. Dr Stevenson had created smaller blankets, almost pillows if you will, that are heavy even to me. I'm not sure what's in them. I lifted them and put them in the places his recommended

It took some time for my trembling to stop. All of the anxiety and anger of the last few days, the uncertainty just hit all at once.

When they had lessened, my parents climbed onto my chest and sat there, followed by David and Dr Stevenson. They simply lay out there, rubbing my chest, not saying much.

It took some time for me to finally break.

As always, they were there for me, surrounding me, holding me "down", keeping me safe, soothing.

You will forgive me if I do not write about this further. It is enough to know it happened and that is painful enough for me to write about.