Saturday, August 1, 2009
A Special Ed Blog With Soul
He's my reason. Waking up each day may be hard, but somebody needs me to wake up and go on. Darrel is on the autism spectrum, on the severe end. He cannot talk. He can't sit still, just runs and spins things. D loves to spin things. He isn't my only child, but he's my permanent child. So I wake up even when I've only had two hours of sleep the night before.
This blog will, hopefully, fulfill a need we have seen so many times over the years to educate others on what it is to be on this spectrum. High-functioning autism isn't what D has, and yet so many assume that is what autism is when, in fact, the majority of children on the spectrum cannot be classified as high-functioning. In other words, Rain Man is not the norm.
Our experience with autism has not been a musical. It's been a nightmare; the nightmare of watching our child suffer through symptoms we couldn't change or fix. Every child with autism is in some way or other, slightly or severely, uncomfortable in their own skin. Every day is teaching D how to cope with the way things are because they aren't going to be different tomorrow.
For the sake of every child on the spectrum, spend 15 minutes with us each day, or even each week. This disorder is spreading rapidly. 1 in 150 children are diagnosed with autism.