Recently you may have heard the news stories. One mother of an autistic teen boy murdered him and tried to take her own life. Recently another mother of an autistic teen girl tried to commit suicide with the two of them together in their garage. In both cases, the autistic teen children were becoming increasingly aggressive towards themselves and others, and the mothers were struggling to find any help – whether it be through therapies, state agencies, schools, etc. They were desperately trying to cope and had both come to the conclusion it would be better for them and their Autistic child to die, than to go on living the hell that they were living.
My heart aches for these families, because I get it.
I have lived through years with Autism that were a living hell.
As I grieve for these families, I remember those years with my beautiful Autistic non-verbal preschooler where my nerves were literally on edge 24-7. Years when she would behave completely irrationally and destroy things around the house, scream uncontrollably, bite herself on the arm leaving bruises, dig her fingers deep into her eye-sockets, make herself flat as a board and fall backwards onto a hard floor, and pull out her hair. She literally pulled out so much of her hair that she looked like she had gone through chemo.
As a mother, when you watch your precious own dear child live this way, it is agony.
My emotions were completely frayed, as I grieved over realizing our daughter was broken, while at the same time I was completely stressed out, just trying to cope each day. Each day for about 5 or so years, I literally felt like I was living in a war zone where my main objective was simply to cope and survive.
I never got to the point where I considered suicide or murder as options, but I did wonder how much longer I could keep up living this way and I did consider the possibility of institutionalizing her. But I could never bring myself to seriously consider it, because that would break my heart too much.
So, as I learn of these stories in the news, I grieve.
I grieve, because I get it.
I don’t know how I made it through those years except for one answer: God.
Not only is God the anchor of my soul and the Rock that gives me strength, but God stepped in and helped me. He orchestrated a meeting with some people who introduced us to some therapies that we tried out of desperation. Thankfully, those therapies helped enough to move our daughter into a positive developmental direction.
I also survive on this journey because God has given me the gift of a wonderfully loving and supportive husband and amazing father to our children. We are a team and we do this stuff together. God knew we would need each other to make it on this journey, and I am so thankful for my husband. My children’s daddy is a wonderful man.
My heart grieves for these families who have decided that death is their final option, and my heart grieves for the judge who will have the burden of convicting these mothers of murder and attempted murder.
I hope that someday they find an answer for this Autism puzzle, and that families can finally find help. It’s way too much stress to handle on our own.
My heart aches for these families, because I get it.
I have lived through years with Autism that were a living hell.
As I grieve for these families, I remember those years with my beautiful Autistic non-verbal preschooler where my nerves were literally on edge 24-7. Years when she would behave completely irrationally and destroy things around the house, scream uncontrollably, bite herself on the arm leaving bruises, dig her fingers deep into her eye-sockets, make herself flat as a board and fall backwards onto a hard floor, and pull out her hair. She literally pulled out so much of her hair that she looked like she had gone through chemo.
As a mother, when you watch your precious own dear child live this way, it is agony.
My emotions were completely frayed, as I grieved over realizing our daughter was broken, while at the same time I was completely stressed out, just trying to cope each day. Each day for about 5 or so years, I literally felt like I was living in a war zone where my main objective was simply to cope and survive.
I never got to the point where I considered suicide or murder as options, but I did wonder how much longer I could keep up living this way and I did consider the possibility of institutionalizing her. But I could never bring myself to seriously consider it, because that would break my heart too much.
So, as I learn of these stories in the news, I grieve.
I grieve, because I get it.
I don’t know how I made it through those years except for one answer: God.
Not only is God the anchor of my soul and the Rock that gives me strength, but God stepped in and helped me. He orchestrated a meeting with some people who introduced us to some therapies that we tried out of desperation. Thankfully, those therapies helped enough to move our daughter into a positive developmental direction.
I also survive on this journey because God has given me the gift of a wonderfully loving and supportive husband and amazing father to our children. We are a team and we do this stuff together. God knew we would need each other to make it on this journey, and I am so thankful for my husband. My children’s daddy is a wonderful man.
My heart grieves for these families who have decided that death is their final option, and my heart grieves for the judge who will have the burden of convicting these mothers of murder and attempted murder.
I hope that someday they find an answer for this Autism puzzle, and that families can finally find help. It’s way too much stress to handle on our own.
