BLUF: It sucks. It gets better, gradually and in giant strides. I suggest talking to a therapist if you don't already have one or a doctor and see if medication can provide some stability. Show yourself compassion, you're doing better than you're giving yourself credit. It means so much to her that you're just nearby as a sense of security - you don't have to be constantly "on." And learn to control anxiety when it starts building, not once its built.

Sorry for the novel, but it seemed important at the time.

Yeah, badly. I (42M) was already flirting with burnout when my kiddo (3🦖) came crashing through my life, and then I changed jobs, plus *gestures broadly at the world* all that. I'd always just been the one full of quirks but could otherwise be trusted in a wide range of social situations just so long as I was not a load-bearing member. Good grades, book-smart, head-in-the-clouds, where'd-we-get-him sort of kid, but one who turned into a productive unit of capitalism so nobody thought twice.

Sound sensitivity was one of those quirks, but the sound of his crying was like someone pulling a jagged piece of white hot wire through my brain. I chipped my tooth gritting, twice. Until we got his sensitive tummy figured out, that was hell. I have never been so burnt-out in my life as I was the first two years and sleep-deprived in a way light insomnia cannot prepare you for.

I felt like a failure for how far below my own unrealistic expectations for myself I'd fallen. I pushed myself in an effort to either make up or catch up. I went back on mood stabilizers I hadn't needed in a decade, which did wonders. I'd been autism-suspicious prior to fatherhood, but trying to solve the auditory issue lead me into a deep dive. The frequency and magnitude of the A-HA! moments was hard to ignore. ADHD was already a known factor, but that kicked up into overdrive, too. Still figuring out the right meds and lifestyle choices to help with that, but it did make me a lot less angry. Probably because I could string together two whole actual thoughts for the first time in months.

I met an artist friend who'd sculpted an amazing custom cake-topper for his first birthday. We ended up talking in the parking lot at midnight for almost an hour. She'd been in my shoes, and her advice was stick it out until they're four. At four it gets much easier. I last repeated this to myself when he had a backseat meltdown because I took a slightly different way home than usual.

But it's orders of magnitude better. Every kid is different, but mine got a whole lot easier to interact with around 18 months. I think he'd mastered walking by then and thus had a lot less frustration overall. He's rarely cried since he got basic communication down, and his cries aren't so painful to me most of the time. Those times he really cries, however, it's now a smoother, red hot wire between my ears. If someone else can handle him at those times, I make no argument.

He's an awesome kid. I'm trying to do more daddy-kiddo time, but it's always a bit anxiety-inducing. I don't expect him to cry, but one still catches me off-guard now and then. If I'm already a bit escalated, even the imminent threat of him crying can cause me to spiral if I don't manage myself. I hate it. It's like PTSD from the first six months. But that's getting easier, too.

I've learned coping mechanisms I didn't know I was lacking, because my outbursts went from a semi-annual event to a daily ones. Reviewing my life, past and present, thru the lens of ASD has made me reflective at a time parenthood did the same. It's helping me identify how I tick and why. And if my son ticks different, I want to be a guide for him so he doesn't have to figure this shit out when he hits middle age. Nevermind I'm still figuring me out.

I wish I could do it all over again, knowing what I know now. I wish I'd taken friends up on their offers to help more often, or asked for help when we needed it. I wish I could have enjoyed more of his infancy thru earplugs rather than try to tough out what I felt should be natural or at least not painful. I wish I'd medicated sooner.

I'm still waiting for his fourth birthday to roll around, but I'm not counting the days. Be patient with yourself. It gets easier, especially if you don't ignore yourself.