Acceptance and the Dark Cloud of Doom

FF and I had one of those car discussions this morning about his autism. He's sick of it. He would get rid of it in a minute if he could. It makes him different and that's what's so painful about it, he says. Above all, he needs to feel that he's like his peers, that he fits in.

"Don't you understand, Mom? Autism just makes me stick out."

I listen, I tell him I do understand. I try to point out that he has strengths and some extremely good traits, that his autism isn't all bad. 

He doesn't care and doesn't want to hear it. He just wants it to go away. And on and on. I seriously don't know how our conversations in the car devolve into dangerous territory like this. Sigh. I wish he could reach some level of acceptance and peace with it, but no. Or, at least, not yet. I'm not suggesting that he needs to love his autism or begin glorifying it in any way. I'd just like to see him arrive at a level of tolerance that would enable him to "walk around" the potholes in his life.

I imagine some day in the not-so-distant future when he'll calmly be able to talk to people about what it's like to have his brand of autism. Maybe he'll even be able to stand up in front of a classroom and describe the day-to-day hurdles to a class of college students. Or maybe he could at least get to the point where he can explain his challenges to a college professor (without an emotional upheaval) so that he can appropriately advocate for his own accommodations without having someone do that for him. But for FF, at least for now, the not-being-able-to-accept-it IS a part of the disability. 

As it is, I'm able to divert the conversation to something happier, just before I drop him off for his community college class--a very good thing. But Mom Worries taunt me. How will the conversation color his day and his mood--and, for that matter, eveyone else's with whom he may come into contact?

An hour-and-a-half later I pick him up, he slides into the front seat, and cheerfully tells me all about the TED talk that his instructor shared with the class from a young college student who has, wait for it..., autism. The video was one of several the class watched, illustrating good public speaking techniques. I actually watched this video months ago, and I even showed it to FF and told him about it--although I'm sure he wasn't interested in watching the whole thing. He remembered the student, who is studying quantum physics in Indianapolis (and, no, FF is not one of THOSE students with autism).

Did the instructor include the video specifically because FF is in his class? Did he show it so that FF would know that his autism doesn't need to be a barrier in his class? Or maybe so that the other students would see the tall awkward kid in their class a little differently? Or maybe it was just a coincidence (but I doubt it). I don't know. But at least for a little while, the Dark Cloud of Gloom dissipated. He was happier. I was happier. 

So thank you, COMM 101 professor. By showing him that he's not the only one, you helped him fit in just a little bit more. It's a little thing, I know, but you eased him into a better day. And for that you get the Gold Star of the day from a grateful autism mom.