Asking for Help Didn’t Make Me Weak, It Made Me Stronger

For some people it’s the diagnosis that stings. That punch in the gut that takes the breath right out of you.

For me it was the months that followed.

My whole life…the word Autism never meant anything bad. It never really meant anything to me.

I felt relieved that finally no one could place the blame on me for my son’s behaviors and actions.

However, that diagnosis became way too real for me.

For the first time ever at Jackson’s first therapy appointment, he would not look at his therapists.It was like they weren’t even there.

These were the only people who I thought could help us. They even seemed confused.

I never even considered the fact that my son would not acknowledge his teachers.

He screamed, he cried, he threw things. I even cried. I didn’t know what to do.

And all hope was lost

He was so visibly upset and I was so lost. I remember the therapist looking at me and she said, “you do not have to stay.”

We had only been there maybe five minutes, but I ran out the door without a second thought.

We never made our next appointment.

The months that followed crushed my spirit in a way I had never considered possible.

Imagine being alone. Imagine when I say being alone..imagine being the only person in the world that you know is like you.

Imagine thinking that there is no other soul on this earth capable of helping you or guiding you…when you so desperately need it.

Just try to imagine being that lost. Imagine losing a life, grieving a loss like someone had died.

But you were very much still here.

The mere shell of you that was left. Fragile and unprotected.

Imagine constant chaos and noise. The end of silence. The end of peace.

Imagine you and your spouse deciding to separates so you could have separate houses and potentially find the silence you had lost.

Imagine you fearing your mind will never shut off again because your best efforts, will never be enough.

Imagine for five solid years obsessing where everything in your house is because your child loves knives and screwdrivers and has a healthy appetite for deodorant and toothpaste.

Imagine being woken up every single night to the sound of crashing and crying. Broken TV’s and light bulbs. The shrieking at 3am that wakes the entire house as you try and get a piece of glass out of his foot.

Imagine not being able to buy your child toys because he only eats them or throws them.

Imagine your child’s only entertainment is crushing goldfish crackers into your carpet..and letting him do that for two years because NOTHING else made him happy at home.

But you were always home and the vacuum was always broken.

Imagine having an unhappy child and no way to fix it.

Imagine the judgement and stares when we finally tried to leave our home.

Imagine losing all motivation and hope.

Imagine not being able to help your family.

Being a special needs parent you have no choice but to advocate for your child. It falls on you to tell your friends, your family,and your community what Autism truly is.

It falls on you and only you to seek the support you need in a world you never knew existed.

In a language you were never taught to speak.

Saturday night we ventured out and went to a cookout,yet everything was different.

Everyone knew Jackson. Everyone really knew Jackson.No one questioned why my child brought two fly swatters with him, why he was in diapers, or why he would not look at them.

Everyone knew him.

Not a single child questioned his differences.

I never grabbed my phone to take a picture, I didn’t want to miss a second of his happiness. The joy on his face, it was like I couldn’t look away.

That inclusion he had. The freedom of him being able to be himself. Those beautiful moments, they are the fruits of my labor.

Yesterday we went for a car ride at dusk. I put on his favorite song “Surrender” by Natalie Taylor and we just cruised.

He had this smile on his face like it was the best day of his life. He sat in his car seat just laughing at the sunset with the wind blowing in his hair.

As I drove us around, tears just ran down my face. It was the most beautiful moment.

All I ever wanted was for him to be happy. As hard as it is to open my entire life up to the world, I have to. I have no choice in that. I never really did.

We need support. We need awareness. We need a community.

We cannot do this alone.

This journey with Jackson has shown me how important it is to have support, how we literally cannot survive without it. Something as small as asking for basic empathy has changed our lives.

Asking for help didn’t make me weak.

It highlighted my deepest strengths.

Written by, Melissa Gill

Hi I’m Melissa. I share my story at My Journey With Jackson about my son Jackson who was diagnosed with Level 3 Severe Autism and cognitive delays. This journey has been gut wrenching to say the least. I started my page for awareness for caregivers. I was struggling so hard… but recently learned the benefit of really advocating for my son as well as the benefit of connecting with others who have similar lives.

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Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook, subscribe for exclusive videos, and subscribe to our newsletter.