In 2011when we began to realize we needed help understanding what we now know to be high functioning autism, we were put in touch with the most amazing Family Therapist. She helped us sort out some of Lucy's symptoms and helped us know which experts to seek out for help. So when I realized I had emotional work to do, I knew right where to go. It was like starting on the fifth counseling session -- I knew I loved Lisa and trusted her, and we were able to dive right in.
Lisa helped me figure out what worked for me, and long story short, I learned that I needed to write. She encouraged me to block out time to write when I could really dedicate some time to it. She encouraged me to remember the little details — how the room smelled or sounded or what someone was wearing, but only as they came to me or felt necessary. What came after that was the opportunity to go back through our experience and name some of the feelings I had. Things came out on the page that I had no idea was in there. What surprised me most was the deep gratitude I had for how well cared for we were during that time. People were practically tripping over themselves to bring us meals, care for our kids, do our dishes, mow the lawn, clean our pool, send toys to our kids. There is a reason that people are encouraged to count their blessings—it is a strong balm for deep wounds.
When we were still in the hospital, the (WONDERFUL) social worker came to see how we were doing. We had both had the strange experience of wanting to revisit the accident in our thoughts. I felt almost desperate to remember it sometimes, like it was important for me to remember the details before I forgot them. “Is this normal? Is this healthy?” we asked. She said something to me that served as a sort of mile-marker, and that I have passed on to many, many people. She said, your mind knows that you need to process what happened to you both. You are both able to see that you don’t need to be afraid to remember it. If you choose to repress it and pretend everything is fine, it WILL come out, one way or another, and most likely when you don’t want it to. So let those thoughts come, acknowledge them, and then you can start to move on little by little.
I share this with you, because I am hoping that someone will benefit from hearing about our experiences. There was such deep healing for me in going back and acknowledging everything that happened, taking the time to let those things come out, making time to understand what I went through. Every single time I sat down to write I thought, “It doesn’t hurt to think about this anymore, this shouldn’t be that emotional.” Every single time, I finished writing with tears streaming down my face, but feeling totally refreshed. I had worried about how to “place” my experience. I always put the people who had something tragic happen to them in a special, sort of saintly category, like ,”Oh, I will never be able to manage hard things like those people. They have it way worse off than we do.” But it was also worse than a broken ankle or something. What was this thing that happened to us? Was it over? Was it ongoing? How do I categorize and understand our family as a result of all this? Am I pretending it’s not that hard? Am I placing MYSELF in some special category as Varsity Sufferers? Wallowing and even proud of having had suffering that set ME apart as “saintly?”
I’m not really sure how to explain it, but I absolutely found rest and peace, and I was ready to keep moving with my life. Steve’s condition isn’t going to change. We know that now. He may make small improvements, but he is paralyzed. We worry about things like ulcers in his feet or infections in his body that he can’t detect in time. We struggle with not having the medical support that makes sense for him. That’s our life. Those are other kinds of things to deal with. But taking that time, making healing an activity that happened on a Tuesday at 10 am, that I got a babysitter for and turned off my phone for, well, it closed that chapter for me in the very best way. God is so, so good.
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