so this is it

the day that autism broke me

broke me down to my knees

broke me to the point I was weeping on friend’s shoulder right in the middle of the hallway of my children’s school

broke me

for just a moment

Let me tell you the truth

I’m worn.

Autism sucks

Being a constant advocate takes its toll

What if there’s something I missed?  What if that one little thing I didn’t do could have been the one thing that meant this wouldn’t have happened?

The thing about autism is that it seems I can’t fix it

I’ve spent so many years thinking I could figure out the code.  Thinking that somewhere out there was the answer and I would find it.  Try this or that or that…maybe this…or that…

there’s no single answer

what works one day, doesn’t another

Ultimately it comes down to me to help this boy navigate his way through our world…


Here we are, all these years later

Everything I’ve tried and here we are

I have learned that if you cry too much in a 24 hour period, your eyelids will swell to the point it will hurt to blink.

So here I am at a low point trying to find the bit of hope that will give me the strength to stand up and carry on like everything is just fine.

As I was told the other day, my hands are full.

damn straight

But, I will pick up and move on.  You see, that’s what we all do.  We carry on.  We have to.

There’s some talk out there about reality and blogs and I say this…

write what you want, it’s your show.

Know that no person is perfect.  No person’s life is solely sunshine and daisies, but now and then we all get sunny day to pick a bouquet.

If you go around comparing your life to what you see on blogs you might just drive yourself mad.

Wouldn’t it be more fun to bake yourself a cake?

As for me, I think some people misinterpret what I do and why I do it.  Yes, I love food baked from scratch instead of some cake baked who knows where…Yes, I like to nap under handmade quilts instead of some store bought poly-blend blanket…Yes, I like to sit at home and knit on a Friday night.

Do you know why?

Because, nine times out of ten, things like flour, eggs, butter, fabric, thread, and yarn all do what I ask them to do.

If they don’t, I can fix it.

Autism on the other hand, I cannot.

8 thoughts on “so this is it

  1. amy says:

    I wish autism didn’t have the power to break people down to crying so hard that it hurts to blink, but I’m glad you know that on some other day in the future, there will be a sunny day when you get to pick yourself a bouquet of flowers – literal or otherwise. Don’t be afraid to share the days/things that feel as though they’ve broken you. Not all readers are looking for just another good time in the baking/crafting categories. Plenty of readers are here to offer support for both the delicious-looking baked good as well as the days of broken sadness.

    Thinking of you and hoping your weekend days bring lighter loads.

  2. Meryl says:

    I hate people who don’t say anything, so I’m going to say something, and forgive me if it’s the wrong thing…you’re doing more good in the world than you think you are just by sticking through and not giving up–that’s braver than so many people would be.

  3. Jeni says:

    You are one of the strongest people I know, Deedee. I wish I had words to comfort you, I cannot imagine what you’re going through. Know that we’re here for you. Much love and hugs ❤

  4. Laraine Davis says:

    This is beautifully written, dear one. You have amazing strength and talent. And no one can know the depth of your soul. And yet you immerse yourself in these beautiful things you create by hand. And you continue with new beginnings and whatever it take make things better for your little one. Sending blessings your way.

  5. Catherine Marie Baldwin says:

    you have put into words exactly what i feel every single day. you are so right about what works one day for your child might not work the next day. the day my daughter was diagnosed with autism, is the day the music died for me; at least for a while. my heart was hurting, and my soul was shattered with the worst pain that i ever felt. but somewhere along the way, i decided that i was not going to let the autism win. it will never win. somewhere deep inside, my child is there. and as we break through each layer, we win. every word she speaks is a victory; every smile is a celebration, and every hug is the reassurance that her spirit is emerging a little more each day.
    i really appreciate what you have written about autism, and your words give me to carry on, like you have chosen to do.

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