The waves just keep coming

The ocean is a beautiful thing.  It is a never ending, always changing wonder, that many people see as an amazing place to be. The sand between your toes, and the sound of the waves are relaxing your mind and body.

Autism, much like the ocean, is a large, mysteriously beautiful miracle. There is so much that has yet to be discovered.

As I rest in the sand to look out upon the great expanse of Autism. The subtle sounds of the waves relax me and make me feel comfortable.  I feel like I can rest and finally find some peace.  But then the waves get more and more extreme.  Making loud crashing noises and pouring out onto my place in the sand.  Now I’m sitting in cold, wet sand instantly thrown out of my peaceful state.

As I sit there trying to find my peace again, the storm hits. The clouds of aggression and meltdowns hover over me, taunting me, waiting to drop an endless amount of rain on my head.  As the rain begins to fall, I start to feel like I’m drowning.

Drowning on dry land.

I can’t help my son.  I can’t control his emotions.  I don’t know how to do this.  All of my doubts keep pouring down on me.  As I struggle to keep myself dry,  I am grabbing at anything to help.  Therapists, counselors, books, medicines, and research are my umbrella from the rain. But sadly my umbrella is full of holes.  Services that my son can not obtain, meltdowns that never end, and aggression that gets more extreme over time make massive voids, and now I’m sitting in the cold wet sand with a useless umbrella.

The waves keep crashing into the sand and I’m still sitting there.

Stuck.

I can’t move.  I know that I have to fight, but I am so tired and weak and I want to just throw in the towel and say that I quit!!!  But I can’t.  The ocean is a large unknown wonder, and I have to know more. I have to stay and fight this battle even when I’m about to give up.

I push through the storm.  The rain and the powerful waves keep coming over and over , but still I persist.

Finally, as the waves begin to calm and the rain begins to lighten.  I still sit in the wet, cold sand.  I look around and see others in the sand beside me.  My mom, our family, friends, the teachers, aides, therapists, counselors, and everyone else who loves Jaxon are sitting there, fighting beside me.  They are all soaked from the rain and cold from the ocean waves crashing into the sand, but in the sand they stay.

Our beautiful day, has turned dark.  Jaxon’s emotions got the best of him and like the waves of the ocean, they crash into all of us catching us off guard.  But as the cloud dissipate, a rainbow appears.  A rainbow that signifies that no matter the hardships, the battles, we will come out the other side stronger.

The storms come and go.  This I know.  That doesn’t mean that any part of this journey is getting any easier.  I’ve been researching the ocean that is Autism for over 6 years now and I still feel like I’m still in the shallows.  The deep expanse of Autism is still undiscovered, but I will keep learning and growing, and I will not give up.

If you ever feel like you are stuck in the cold wet sand with a crappy umbrella full of holes, I’ll be there beside you and we will ride this storm out together.