Autism, what next?

After my son was diagnosed with autism, I was told I’d receive the report in an email. That was it. I don’t know exactly what I had imagined in my head—maybe a guide, some direction, or at least a pamphlet explaining what to do next. And suddenly, I realised how much I didn’t know—how much I wish I had known. 

 I had no idea the financial strain would be so heavy. The therapies that would help my little boy feel less distressed were so expensive, not to mention the fuel just to get there. I didn’t expect that caring for him would mean I couldn’t work as much, couldn’t earn enough to stay afloat. 

I didn’t know that it would mean no holidays, that I would barely cover rent, that “living paycheck to paycheck” would be a luxury compared to what we actually face—living day to day, never knowing how we’ll make it to tomorrow. I wake up every morning with that weight, wondering how my boys and I will get through another day.

The isolation hit hard, too. People would tell me they understood why I couldn’t stay longer at social events, why I had to leave early, but I know they judged me behind my back. I couldn’t just visit family hours away—that kind of change in routine would be too much for my son.Slowly, I found myself pulling back, feeling more and more alone. 

And then there was the strain on my relationship. We couldn’t survive it. The pressure, the exhaustion—it was too much. 

Through it all, I’ve neglected myself—both physically and mentally. There’s no time, no space left for me. And I never saw any of this coming.