Autism Answer: How We Answer The Questions About Autism (A Story)

My oldest son in the pool with one of his brothers and one of mine!

Just over ten years ago we were visiting a family resort. My mom and I had gathered and corralled all four of my sons, along with my brother, to the resort swimming pool. With an ease that we've mastered over time, mom and I chatted while consistently counting heads, tossing playful banter at the boys, and redirecting moods that could easily become meltdowns.

My brother, Dar, who was about twenty-one at the time, loves water. He screams, he splashes, he sucks water in and spits it out, he jumps around and screams again.

My oldest son, who was about ten years old at the time, loves making new friends. He invents creative games and gives random kids a role, he invites them to sleep over and builds blanket forts with two stories and a dance room, then makes more friends to play more roles.

On this particular visit my twenty-one year old brother was wildly happy. The acoustics at the indoor pool were his play thing and he made strange sounds with wild abandon! While my oldest son swam nearby with new-found friends, Dar happily cleared out the hot tub.

Eventually, one of the kids my son was playing with asked with intense curiosity, pointing at my brother, "What's wrong with him?"

My darling son look over at his uncle and shrugged. "Dunno," was his bored response, "maybe he's hungry." And off they swam, question answered!

 It's not the questions we are asked about our autistic loved ones that matter most, but the way we answer them.

My son's disinterest in--and misunderstanding of-- the "what's wrong with him question" was a subtle message to the new friends. Subtle, but clear. Nothing was wrong with him. And nothing was so different about him that couldn't be understood by the rest of us. Perhaps he's hungry, perhaps he's hurting, perhaps he has to use the restroom, perhaps he's obnoxiously noisy and comfortable with his joy--all of these things are possibilities. People possibilities that we can all relate to on some level.

Some of my son's friends have tried to get to know his uncle more deeply, to help him with his possible pain and to join him in his joy. It's been beautiful to watch.

And on that day his new friends were comfortable with the "hungry" answer, swam away and didn't look back. They were busy playing and my brother was busy playing, too. It was beautiful to watch. 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

My brother, Dar. Having fun in the hot tub!

Autism Answer: Robin Williams

Some people can't just "buck up". My mom taught me that.

Often she told me, but I didn't believe. So she had to teach me. 

She had to teach me because I didn't know, and thought people like her were just looking for attention or some kind of special acknowledgement of their difference. I thought everyone was like me inside, so I didn't believe in something different. I was wrong. I was dangerous and cruel--though I was sure I was kind. But I couldn't be truly kind because I didn't believe others when they shared their own experiences if they were far and foreign from my own.

I was wrong.

So I speak up consistently with volume and candor to help others understand before it's too late.

Sadly, so sadly, for Robin Williams it is too late. We'll mourn together of course, and feel for his family, but I hope we'll also learn.

~Reach out. 
~Get/offer support. 
~Seek out neurofeedback. 
~Know that there are answers, and you can find them. 
~Don't be afraid to walk away from those who are not supportive, even if they're family.
~Do believe that one amazing friend is healthier than a roomful of poisonous ones.
~Contact people who know the battle but no longer live it. Encourage them to share their answers and then try those answers for yourself or your loved one. Feel free to personalize as you go.

Believe in everyone, but live around only those who help rather than hinder. 

Robin Williams was funny, smart, creative, and a genius. Often this is a recipe for depression, but it doesn't have to be. It really doesn't have to be. Believe that, and your taking a step in the right direction. 

Keep taking those steps.

Hugs, smiles, and love.
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

My mom (Lynette Louise aka THE BRAIN BROAD) who also lived with depression--and now travels the globe treating it effectively--loves this movie with Robin Williams. 

I'm betting Robin loved it too.