When my son was three and half I was told that he was suspected to have an autistic disorder. My son would never be an ordinary boy, as no cure is possible. It is not a disease, but another kind of human-being with autistic brain versus "neurotypical" brain that an ordinary individual has.
After diagnosis confirmation, I had moved through 5 stages of dealing with grief. Denial was the first. Several doctors had finished this stage with indifferent voice. Anger was the second. I was blaming the government, the ecology and the immunization system, who somehow were suspected to be a cause. The third was bargaining. In my thoughts: "Take my health or life, but just let my son be a normal". Afterwards, the depression stage had begun. Understanding of the situation of no exit and no hope made me depressed and weak. No efforts, no thoughts, nothing that could help. The acceptance stage is assumed to provide a relief. At some portion it was so, but this stage gave a birth to the new endless stage in my life. The stage name is fighting.
Everyday you fight with your fear and depression, with skeptic people around, with the government system. I can not follow the normal lifetime flow. I move through the wilds, that no one walked before me (and every autistic child parent does). We are writing our personal stories. So, guys, let's do it with our chins up. Our children have given us a mission, we could not fail.
