It’s well-meaning, I know it is. But one autistic child’s journey won’t be like my child’s journey. It’s like telling me, “You’ll be ok” when you ask how I am and I tell you it’s not going great.
Someone very well-meaning sent an article about a child who started talking at age 8 and told me it would give me hope. But it won’t. Because I know of many autistic adults who even in their late adulthood are still challenging, unable to be ‘still’ and don’t talk or even communicate in any understandable way.
Those articles don’t give me hope when I know the reality and the possibilities. They certainly don’t help me today when life is extremely challenging and it’s taking everything out of me to stay upright and to keep my smile right NOW. I can’t afford to even think about tomorrow when today’s mountain is very high and I am yet to climb it.
Well-meaning but meaningless. My own life has shown me that things do get worse. I’ve learnt to stop hoping for better, because better never comes. How many times did we hope that 2023 would bring no surgeries but instead I ended up with two and one already seeming to be needing to be re- done? (Symptoms seem to be starting up again. And it’s not just me being crazy, the urologist only wanted to see me a month after surgery to check that I was ‘still’ ok or if I needed more help.)
I can’t find hope in some strange child’s improvement when I know of many adults who didn’t ever improve. That would be..not me. I’ve seen worse. It can also go that way.
I just need my hand held today. I just need to know today’s heartaches are seen. That’s all I need.
Only God can make promises or offer hope of improvement, because only HE can fulfill those promises and make those hopes reality.
They said I should write a book 