Aspergers Syndrome

My husband sent me an email this week.  I guess he had just been thinking recently about what it must be like to be our daughter.  I could not have said it better and was truly touched by his observation of how Aspergers really effects her.   Based on his observations and unconditional understanding of her, this was the poem he wrote:

“There is a hurricane that rages constantly in my head.It never ends.The noise is like the rush of a freight locomotive as it clacks and groans along the tracks.Although I try my best to reach into the storm and pull out the one thing I need right now, it is often a fight in futility and the hurricane wins.I have practiced and practiced to catch the odd thought or important fact but it seems as soon as I catch it the rush of the wind fights to tear it from my grasp.The battle is constant and it strains me to not succumb to the intense pressure and power of the wind in my head.The meds have helped slow the storm.  At times I can concentrate fully on that one task or another I have pulled from the storm.More than one task in each of my mental hands keeps me off balance and makes me slow to respond to outside stimulus.I have managed to pull an item or two from the grasps of the monster, which are mine and I am reluctant to let go, even if they seem juvenile or socially incorrect for my age.I wish people could understand me but I have trouble communicating through the sound in my head.I get side tracked and confused where I am.The compass in my head is blown to and fro by the storm.And I lose my train of thought which I struggle to regain.I wish it would go away and then I could be normal like everyone else.Sarcasm escapes me.Loud noises cause me great consternation.Light sometimes bothers me.Things need to be just so.Change is always hard.Nobody understands me!”

This is the world my daughter lives in every day.  She has a form of Autism know as Asperger’s Syndrome.  It has been so hard to see her try so hard to do some things and not be able to quite get there.  She loves school which is great, but if you were to ask her who her best friend is she would say her sister.  Not because she is her best friend, but she is the only person she feels a friendship with.  She would rather be in a class all to herself every day then spend it in a classroom full of kids, the din of a classroom just adds to the roar of the storm in her head.  Alone time is all she craves.  My heart aches for her especially when people misjudge her because her cover looks like she is 12, but at times in social situations she acts 6. She is a brilliant student, although she often forgets to turn in her work.  All honors classes for a grade level higher then hers and usually the tops of her class.  Orchestra, a violinist, not the best, but she can at least pull that moment from the storm.  I used to struggle with her from the day she started school to tell her NOT to bring home rocks or acorns in her book bag.  Sometimes it was pounds of rocks, who knows where they came from?  When I finally thought we had it under control, I realized she had switched to frogs in her pockets, not rocks.  Some made it home alive, a couple did not.   No amount of conversation and love with her has changed this one thing she had grasped and won’t let go of.  It is hers.  Now, I let her keep the rocks in a pile in the back yard.  They are hers. Nobody wants to hear the “excuse” that she has a disability because they can not SEE it.  I worry and pray for her constant.  I wish I could fix it.  I wish I could tell her everything is OK.  I wish…  Take the time to learn that not everyone is what they seem.  Love people for who they are.  Understand that some are different through no fault of their own.