He's a Screamer

He screamed today. At the top of his lungs. I mean it; he screamed today. One of those fits that you cannot predict or stop once it's begun. You've got to let it run its course. I always ask him about them later. If you ask too soon, he'll call you names, kick you, punch you. He knows the problem he has, but he does not know how to stop it.

I'll say, "What happened today?"

He'll say, "I don't know."

"You know you can't act like that."

"Yeah." His eyes aimed at the ground, searching for ants. "I know."

"What can we do about it?"

"I don't know."

We've had this discussion a number of times, more than I can count. Round we go without any improvement.