Sunday, 6 May 2012

Autism is like an iceberg some signs are visible but more are hidden below the surface

A telephone call on Friday afternoon left me in tears, but that is the end of the story, I need to start from the beginning. At 6am on Friday morning Robbie had left for work and I was standing in the kitchen ironing shirts and feeling very apprehensive. Two members of my family had important meetings that day and there was not a thing I could do to help either of them except to iron shirts for my son in the hope that looking neat and tidy would help him to make a good impression.


I have spent my life worrying about him, trying to keep him safe and generally trying to do my best for him, he may be 17 and almost grown up but I still worry and I still do my best to support him. Life is often challenging for people with Asperger's Syndrome or Autism but it can also be mentally exhausting for those who love them. I don't usually write about my son's Asperger's Syndrome because he tries so hard to be just like everyone else. He doesn't want to be labelled, he just wants to be accepted as himself, but in order to achieve that he has had to work hard to understand other people and to understand himself. It has been an up hill struggle, but I am so proud of him because he never gives up, even when things go wrong he keeps on trying.


He had applied for an important role within his school and on Friday he had to attend interviews as pat of the the selection process. We all feel anxious about interviews, but for my son facing people he didn't know, managing to maintain eye contact, to answer questions and (most important of all) to know when to stop talking was a really big challenge for him. I felt apprehensive all morning, and it was a relief to get a text from him saying that the interviews had gone well. He told me that he would know the outcome by the end of the school day, so he still had an anxious wait. I wished him luck and reminded him that whatever the outcome, it is all good experience.


I can't believe the change in him since he moved to that school. They have helped him to believe in himself, to believe that he can do things and to dare to aim high. His old school had high academic standards and he did well there, but I never felt that they cared about him as an individual. His new school had a different outlook and he has thrived.


I watched the clock, 3.15pm came and went and I convinced myself that it must be bad news. Then at almost 4pm my son rang to say that he had been selected as a vice president of his school for the next academic year (boys are not allowed to stand for president because it is a girls school). I was just on my way out to the supermarket when I took the call, I was so please for him and so proud of him, that I sat in the car with tears running down my cheeks. It has done him the world of good going to that school.

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