A few days ago, I read a post on grief as it applies to parents of special needs children. I am a disabled person myself, not a parent, but I can relate to a lot of what is written in this post.
Having been born with most of my disabilities, I didn’t have to face the sudden loss of a normal life, as people with acquired disabilities do. I did have to face the loss of the remaining sight I had growing up, and this has been tough, but I’ve never been fully sighted. I’ve also never been non-autistic, but in this light, I can relate to the issues faced by parents getting a new diagnosis for their child, since I wasn’t diagnosed till adulthood.
Grief never really ends. You can not feel it for a while, but something can always bring you back to the grieving place. For example, I thought I’d accepted my blindness after I had lost my last bit of vision when I was seventeen. I grieved this loss for a while, but then I picked up the pieces again and thought I was fine. But I wasn’t. When, in 2013, I had surgery that could’ve restored my vision but didn’t, I was brought back to the grieving place all over again. I knew this could happen, as I knew the results of surgery were uncertain, but still, it was tough.
Sometimes they’re the bigger life events that take you back to the grieving place. Sometimes, it’s an anniversary or special event. For example, I’m taken back to the grieving place now that it’s high school graduation time. I did graduate high school, but never succeeded beyond that and never had a good high school experience anyway. I also grieve when my relatives are talking about their college endeavors, because I realize I’ll likely never even get close to finishing college.
Sometimes, they’re the tiny nuisances of life that make me grieve. The Internet is becoming more and more visually-oriented, and this makes it tougher for me to get by. When I see a great crafting idea but can’t seem to reproduce it because I can’t see the pictures, I grieve. When I join a blogging community and 99% of the members are Moms, I grieve. And as for real life, when the weather is beautiful outside but I can’t go for a walk because the staff don’t have time to accompany me, I grieve.
Some of my grief involves current inabilities, like the inability to go for a walk whenever I want to or the inability to see pictures. Some grief involves the loss of dreams, like the dreams of a college degree or a child. Some grief involves the loss of freedom and independence. Grief, in short, comes in many forms and shapes. How to deal with it? I wish I knew.