Not drowning, dog paddling

We're going two steps forward and 1 step back; how do you explain grief and the turmoil of emotions of losing a loved one to an ASD teen who is almost completely disconnected from his own emotions and cannot identify how he feels at any particular time of the day?
Yep, fun and games!

The anger and fury is foremost, of course, but we have managed to get him to the stage of actually saying that he doesn't know why he is angry and hurting others.
This gives us the chance to explain to him about grief and the various stages; we've assured him he is perfectly normal in feeling the way he does but he needs to manage his feelings in a different manner.

We have the anger management poster and workbook from this site - they have some fabulous resources - which we've had for some time and is successful in helping him identify how his different emotions snowball into anger but he is still unable to readily identify how he actually feels.
Unless we talk him through it judging from the visual clues....like clenched teeth, clenched fists, frowns, snappy speech yet he can swear up and down that he's in a good mood/having a good time/calm...everything that is opposite to the physical features.

This is where he has a great deal of trouble in identifying something that has upset him from earlier in the day or the previous day when it's been able to fester in the back of his mind, colouring his thoughts on everything else in a bitter pall rather than seperate the one issue that irritated him and discuss it/ think it over, etc.

So, he sits there and worries that he isn't showing any grief at his Pa's passing while we are reassuring him that, yes, he most certainly is and pointing out the connections between his behaviour and emotions.
Which we will be enforcing with a suggesion from a friend - taking photos of him in different moods and helping him identify how he feels by getting him to look at the photos and change them on the cork board as his emotions fluctuate throughout the day and then helping him identify the triggers which have caused the change in his emotions - IE a good time at footy training made him happy, not understanding a maths equation made him frustrated, not catching the ball at cricket made him angry with himself, etc.

This is another good one for suggestions, tips, a brief run-down for friends, family members or teachers on managing emotional regulation and anxiety for kids on the Spectrum.
And of course on top of everything is the fear - his beloved paediatrician is retiring at the end of the year, the disability worker has resigned and we (assume) he'll have to start over over with a new worker, a couple of others on the footy team have radically changed in temperament which has disturbed more than just Aspie teen, and he's trying to work through his grief for his Pa.

Shovelling shit...again

Well, where do I start?
Start at the beginning and go until you reach the end, said the white rabbit to Alice...or some bizarre anthropomorphized critter.
So, crap just keeps on piling up and I just keep on shovelling it away but it gets a little freakin exhausting, ya know?

Dad died.
So the grief has given the Aspie teen full reign to smash the house, and us, to smithereens - yes, we did have a few intact walls and holes had been repaired but... no more.
We won't mention the extensive bruises or hanks of hair ripped from my skull or the love affair The Spouse and I are conducting with super strength pain relief tablets.
Oops, seems I did mention it...never mind, just move along, nothing to see folks, just another recurring train wreck.
*sigh*

We have no toilet door as he kicked a great hole in it which we replaced with a curtain which he has now ripped down while punching a massive hole in the plaster wall of the loo.
I can recommend this for BRACING fresh WINTER air, particularly in the smelliest room in the house after a male teen has perched on the throne for ever and a day but... it's just a tad drastic.
Try opening a window, way easier.

He managed to rip open the PADLOCKED shed door...yes, it was fully secured with BOLT and PADLOCK...but he merely wrenched it open without batting an eyelid and grabbed the steel hammers one of which he managed to throw through the (weakened from much smashing of aforementioned hammer) flywire on the security door and it smashed into the back of my hand.
Fortunately....as it would have hit me fair square in the chest otherwise.
Quietly thanking my poor, battered right hand for being in the way.

When he came into the house armed with the shovel all I could think,
"Well, he's really gonna make us dig our own holes before he buries us in the vegie patch...I could have sworn we had plenty of fertiliser without the need to do us in."
Yes, bizarre thoughts trot gaily through the space optimistically called my mind.
Mind?
What the heck is that, again?
I think I lost it somewhere around the 7th useless specialist we saw...

I snapped the head off a smart mouthed receptionist who told me I couldn't get in to see my lovely lady gp until next Monday.
Somehow I managed to refrain from telling her I would probably have done something drastic well before then and not to bother but when I asked if it was possible to get in to see ANY of the doctors I think she realised I wasn't asking just to hear the sound of my own voice...that I might actually have a genuine need to see someone-anyone-please-even-if-it's-the-freaking-witch-doctor-who-can't-speak-freaking-English-they-keep-out-the-back-in-case-of-emergencies.

You know, it's probably a good idea to go see a doctor when the valium doesn't make a dint.
When the meditation doesn't help, when you flinch and tense up each time your own child thumps into a room.
Cos he thumps mostly whenever he walks so it's hard to tell beforehand if he's tired, upset or about to unleash a total nuclear meltdown on humanity.
Us being the first line in defence of humanity...although, strangely, we're not on the ADF payroll.
Wonder who I speak to about that...?

Some doctors are horrified at the types and amount of medication he is on.
I'm simply horrified that the fucking things don't make any difference some days.
And, while I'm on a ranty roll, let me tell you I'm pretty fucking miffed some specialists think it's ok we get to 'manage' a disabled, brain damaged super-strong person in full psychotic flight 24/7 with NO FREAKING FUNDING WHATSOEVER yet some are aghast that parents can homeschool without 'proving' themselves on a weekly basis.
Seriously?
I mean....WTF, are you freaking SERIOUS!?
Let this kid loose in a temper in Afghanistan and he'll clean up the freakin Taliban bastards in no time.
But God freaking forbid he hasn't been made to sit down in a classroom to have 'real' schooling.

Um, yeah.
Thank fluck I got in to see my lovely lady gp.
Now, where did I put the shit shovel......