Are You Alone?

Health Activist Prompt:


I write about my health because… Reflect on why you write about your health for 15-20 minutes without stopping  (this is yesterday's post...I am cheating a little bit.  I will do today's post later on.)


I am no stranger to being a health activist.  You could say I was born into the role.  My sister has neurofibromatosis, a genetic disorder of the nervous system which causes tumors to form anywhere on the body at any time.  It also gives her learning issues.  As far back as I remember, my sister was "special" and "different."  I didn't have a problem with this; it just was.  In fact, I was drawn to people who were "different," and I had a lot of disabled friends when I was growing up.  I just remembered that everyone made fun of my sister and I hated that.  When I reached out to be the friend to the person with the disability, they were always just as amazing as everyone else.

It was no big shock to myself (or probably anyone else) that I chose to work with the disabled as a career.  What was a shock to me, though, was how badly they were treated by others.  This prompted me to become an even more fierce activist than before. I loved my work and truly respected the people I worked with and for.

So, you'd think that, when my own child showed signs of having a disability, that I'd fall right into the role of activist for her?

Well, Welcome To Holland...

It's not that I wasn't a good or fierce advocate for her; you can bet your ass I was.

I ran to the ends of the Earth for her.

I read everything on Autism and Asperger's that I could get my hands on (at that time there wasn't much).

My family kept telling me "there's nothing wrong with her."  "She's so smart"

(flash-forward 21 years later.  She's still smart, but I think I was right...)

Anyway, I was so alone.  Really, really ALONE.

After a while, I did find support groups, but my kid was never really like their kids.  I have a girl; most Asperger's kids are boys.  At autism support groups, there weren't too many Asperger's parents.  Yet.

And, to top it off, I was split from her father, who also seems to be somehow affected by Autism.

I did it, though.  But if that weren't enough...

I was dropped into another "country"

actually, it felt more like another planet.

When I became sick.

Because: a) I was with a partner who was not supportive (he was actually the opposite of supportive; and b) I couldn't even get an easy-to-understand disease.  no! I had to get some hard-to-diagnose, chronic illness like vestibular dysfunction, which we are not sure exactly why I have and I can't get rid of.

So now, 11+ years into this thing, I am currently stuck in the house, unable to drive, most of my friends don't  see me (thank God for the few who do), trying to do right by my family when I don't know day-to-day if I can stand up straight.

THIS is why I write.

Because otherwise I would explode.

(and so others know they aren't alone in Holland or in their corner of the Universe)