Autistic-Like

Yesterday I watched the documentary, "Autistic-Like: Graham's Story," directed by Graham's father Erik Linthorst. I have never, and likely will never, meet this family, but I know them. I know them with every fiber of my being because this cruel life-the one with a child affected by Sensory Processing Disorder, Sensory Integration Dysfunction, PDD-NOS, Aspergers, Autism, or any other label that effectively means the same thing-is the same for all of us.

Now, I'll be the first to say that all I know of Graham's parents is that they are raising a child with "Autistic-like behaviors." I don't know what they do for a living. I don't know if or where they went to college. I don't know how they met, or what their dreams were. But I know that their journey has been re-routed by appointments with specialists, therapy sessions, and IEP's. And I know that all too well.

I felt such a range of emotions watching this program (which is why I always record but rarely watch these programs).  I was sad watching early clips of this little boy's life that depicted behaviors that were taking over his ability to thrive. I was indignant listening to specialists share why they diagnosed him with Autism in order to help the family secure services, even though they thought the diagnosis was overkill. I was inspired - but with a twinge of jealousy, frankly - watching his successes.

I was angry that he was born in a place that offered services that bettered those that were available to Braden. I felt validated to hear his father share that what he learned from their journey was that the best therapy he can give his son is love and acceptance. But more than anything, I just felt sad.

The idea that their child was "Autistic-like," rather than diagnostically straight-up Autistic seemed to offer solace. I've heard people say, "Well, it's only Aspergers," or, "He's very high functioning." I've told many people in the last several years that I think that's almost worse. To be so close to typical-development, and yet...

As much anyone can, we know how our story ends, and that's ok! (How we get there is still pretty darn uncertain, though). I don't think of acceptance as giving up; I think it's finding peace in spite of circumstances. It took me several years to get to that point, but once I got there things made more sense and my job with B came sharply into focus.