On being forged into a warrior mom
If I could summarize our journey from Hell to HOPEISM, it would be in my faith, which I call HOPEISM. It has been my weapon of choice to get me through each battle I have had to fight in my mission to win our war called life with autism and seizures. Vaccine injury to be more specific. It would also be in committing to heart, soul, & mind the words and motto's from Forged, NDCQ, the Lone Survivor, and Levi Lusko in his book, "Through the Eyes of a Lion." I will be forever grateful to the inspiration, encouragement, and mental fortitude found through all of them collectively. Because of that, I am not allowing this tragedy of vaccine injury that has come into our lives to be an obstacle to being used by God. I am instead turning it into an opportunity to be used like never before!
This blog is dedicated to Brandon. His life has been forged by difficulty, obstacles, & all too often because of seizures - pain, blood, broken teeth, & broken bones. Yet through all that he has shown such fortitude. The bravery, strength, & resilience of a true warrior. He taught me that having strength through adversity means that even if you lose every battle, like the Lone Survivor, you never quit fighting until you win the war. That in the words of "NDCQ," you keep "dreaming," keep "daring," & keep "doing." As Team Guppy has yet to be able to escape vaccine injury, we have no choice but to as Levi Lusko writes, "Run toward the Roar." God has indeed given us such incredible power in enduring such impossible pain.
Some days the HOPEISM in that simply takes my breath away.
April 5, 2011
When there are no RSVP's to the Pity Party...
In my fifteen years now of "Life with Autism" -- I've learned a lot. It makes me not so regretful that I never finished college. I could have never learned half of what I've learned since autism, with a degree, no matter how many letters preceeded or followed any title I would have had upon such graduation.
(go to, and finish college Matt.... or else!)
I instead, have what you would call one of those "Life experiences" doctorates. Or whatever is the highest degree nowaday's. I don't keep up. No time. Too busy living for the moment, and sharing those moments with others in hopes of putting a bit of inspiration, encouragement, and realism into the mix. And if I happen to plant a seed or spark an interest in what gets me through those "Life experiences" -- my Faith, - then I consider myself to have done good.
With all that said, there does come a bit of ..... negativity sometimes about what I've written. And that's ok. That's what makes America, -- America. That we can share different opinions. We can disagree. I have actually learned the most, from those who have criticized the most. Which in itself, goes contrary to everything I've experienced at times. That criticism is bad, avoid it at all extremes! Blech!
I've never understood that. The criticisms I've experienced have shaped me. I've learned from them where I've needed to, and though I didn't like them at the time, grew to appreciate them. I've gained resiliency from them when they were just that, bitter criticisms that had no merit and were made in ignorance of the situation.
Which brings me to the ongoing debate in the autism/disability community, of pity versus realism.
I think we, the autism/disability community, get this confused the most.
We aren't to say anything negative about anything. We aren't to let on that it's hard. We aren't to admit that perhaps some parts of "Life with Autism" are not in fact, natural.
(Most of those mantra's by the way, coming from those whose children who have disabilities, are now in college and weren't smearing poop on the walls for a decade.)
We are to simply be like the complacent church, sitting sweetly in their pews each week, peacefully spreading good cheer. Not ruffling any feathers for fear of ... whatever. Because if we do, we might been seen as radical or not really a Christian because we dared step outside the norm.
Daring to write how things are, is radical. It is outside the norm. And it is why those who do that, are the most criticized.
So thank you.
You have helped to solidify the fact that women who behave, rarely make history.
And that to indeed make autism history, we need to NOT behave and go with the norm, the status quo. Instead, we need to be as justifiably angry as Jesus was when he turned over the tables in the temple in outrage of how it was being desecrated!
I am truly humbled by the dozens and dozens of comments I've received on my "Life with Autism" blog about "When Autism Awareness isn't so Cute".
And I am equally amused by those who feel it was "woe is me".... "my life with autism sucks".
Actually though, at times it does suck.
But woe is me? I think not. Not me, not anyone I know.
If that is what people think, then they haven't a clue what "Life with Autism" is, and need to drop everything, sprint to the nearest family's house who actually has a child or two with autism, and spend a week.
The autism community is the strongest, bravest, most dedicated and driven community I've ever had the priviledge (yet unfortunate member card) of being a part of.
If the Christian community had half that drive and determination, there would be no one going to hell.
The misperception of interpreting reality to mean pity, is simply ignorance.
We do no one, let alone autism awareness, any favors by sugar-coating everything to the point that it's just natural and no biggie.
That we just need to deal with it and get over it.
We have and we are conquering it.
Every. Single. Day.
Autism. Is. Not. Natural.
Nor are the very real hardships that go along with it.
And I'll not ever sugarcoat that.
So yeah, some may think reading about realism is merely a pity party, and that we are depressed, suicidal idiots who have nothing better to do that bring the rest of the world down with us, --- but you will be choosing to think that by yourself.
This pity-party has an R.S.V.P. of Z.E.R.O.
There's a time and place to share the beauty of autism, and there's a time and place to share the realism of autism.
But never, ever, have any of us ever thrown a pity-party for autism.
We have no time.
We're too busy fighting it!
Woe be to that!