The Vital Role of Parents in Supporting Autistic Adults

Speaking to the parents of adults with autism at the past symposium was particularly anxiety-inducing. My parents had attended while I was an inpatient at a psychiatric hospital for my unmanaged OCD. I hadn’t yet been tested for autism, but they and I were certain that an official diagnosis would only confirm what we all knew to be true. I had always been different. Growing up had made those differences come into sharp relief and had caused me such great pain that I hadn’t wanted to live anymore. They came back from the conference bubbling over. They had met teachers, other parents, and caring professionals. They came back with hope. Even though I couldn’t see it then, my life could and would be better. I was capable of finding a profession that didn’t cause paralyzing anxiety. They had experienced hope before I did and brought that back with them from the conference. Even though I had presented at conferences in the past, this felt different. All I could think about was how helpful the conference had been for my parents, and I wanted to contribute to helping other parents. I’m so grateful for my parents and the fact that they helped keep me alive.
Depression is so dangerous because it’s a vicious cycle. I am not stating that this cycle is the case for everyone, but this was the cycle for me. The outside world was too painful to interact with, so I withdrew. Withdrawing felt good and provided a salve for the wound of rejection. Doing nothing felt better than rejection so that I would do less. I kept doing less, and everything felt less hopeful. It doesn’t take a genius to see where this cycle can lead. Upon discharge from my last psych hospitalization, I went home. My parents had experienced hope and saw that my life could go in a positive direction. They served as guides and cheerleaders during my darkest hours. They would repeatedly tell me that it would get better. The feelings of desperation and grief would fade away over time. Sometimes it was willingly that I would follow them down the path, and other times it felt like I was being dragged forward, but they were right.
Days got easier, and I didn’t want to sleep as much as I had in the past. Speaking to the parents of autistic adults, I wanted it to reflect and refract the gratitude I have for my parents. I wanted them to know that their work is complex and beautiful. They are helping their child or children reach their full potential in ways they couldn’t without a supporting parent or parents. The pressure and anxiety leading up to the presentation were more intense than last year. The anxiety faded away once I got up in front of the group and started speaking. I presented in a safe environment and was confident in communicating what I needed to convey. I want to show next year, but don’t know which group I will apply to contribute to.
I would like to thank the symposium organizers, volunteers, hosts, and workshop attendees. I’m grateful for the opportunity to present this year and hope to see you all next year.