Phoebe has always been a bit different, or unusual.  She says things for attention, and does things that most would not.  She’s defiant, and funny.  She doesn’t care whether you give her positive or negative attention.  She loves little kids, and loves to talk (even if she says the same things over and over). She has taken nearly every ADHD, anxiety, mood, and birth control on the market to help her autism, and her teenager-ness.  Let me remind you, she is only 16-years-old.  I can’t count the number of drugs we have tried. With various medications, she has lost and gained weight.  She has been to PT, OT, Speech therapy, behavioral therapy, etc.  When she struggles, I struggle.  Brendan struggles.  We are a family that struggles.

It’s been sixteen years of doing this.  Sixteen years, so far.  Every day I have to be on alert, and be ready for what her day brings.  I can’t be the laid back, easy going person I normally am.  Phoebe is anything but laid back and easy going.  She is scheduled, and alert.  I have learned how to react to things, in order to keep her calm.  I don’t cry in front of her unless it’s necessary, or she cries.  When Phoebe cries, it’s a while before I can get her back to normal.  I don’t get mad in front of her, or she gets mad.  Getting her out of a mad episode can last hours.  Her anticipatory anxiety is what she struggles with most.  Changes in routine, and upcoming events are what cause her the most problems.  Things need to be explained.  Times need to be right.  (To the minute) She is anxious, we are anxious.  Anxiety does things to people, and their health.  It can’t be easy to always feel anxious.  It can’t be easy to have autism.  She watches, and hears everything.  She looks to Brendan and I on how to react to certain situations.  Brendan knows what NOT to say, and how he needs to act (usually:).  Let me remind you, he is only 13. I struggle every day to make sure her days go smoothly, and that her life is good.  And, while Brendan and my struggle is no easy task, I can’t imagine what it is like to be inside her brain.  

This is her autism.  This is OUR autism.  (We struggle together)