Of Complex grief, for an Autistic Individual: part III

There are many times when words just could not suffice in how to articulate the level of pain one is holding inside. Some grief are Wordless, yet, the Pen will insist on presenting it out.




For an autistic (or, if you like the Pun, "Artistic Autistic") the outward expression of grief is subtle. I do not like to cry - mostly because it serves almost no biological function apart from making my eyes hurt, my nose run, and I will feel absolutely crap afterwards.

So I draw, I write, I make things, I run, I learn, I polish my mastery on skills that I have picked up.

And I try to live up to the embodiment of the Best Quality/Value I admire the most, of the person/creature whom I have loved dearly, and lost.

Vaska represented Courage and Trust, to pick up where you left off, and Move Forward, despite the physical challenges, and traumatic past, and to Live to your Full Potential.

He was a severely abused kitten when I got him - the shelter (a no-kill one, Woodgreen Animal Shelter, London, UK) had labelled him as "Unadoptable" due to the trauma he had. It was love at first sight for me. This scared kitten, looking at me with his Big Scared Kitten Eyes, and maybe, in him I saw a reflection of myself - traumatised, ill, in pain, feeling rejected and unwanted. I wanted to make sure that this little scared ball of fluff does not have to continue to feel that way. And so I took him home.

I learnt to forgive myself, and be patient with my illnesses and health challenges, and to move forward, within my envelope of capabilities and challenges. It wasn't easy, but with Vaska I wasn't doing it alone. Every night, he curled up on my legs to sleep - he bolstered my courage to face pain, the disabling limitations of having a connective tissue disorder( Ehlers-Danlos III with Marfanoid crossover), several of autoimmune diseases, on top of being on the Autism spectrum and it's associated co-mobidities (depression, anxiety, ADHD, sleep disorder).

The summer before Vaska's cancer exploded, he finally gained his full "adult cat status" - i.e. he managed to chase down SquirrelPop (resident red squirrel who lives in the Garden Shed) and "tapped" SquirrelPop on the head with his paw. Which of course resulted in a Very Angry And Violated Squirrel Chittering Her Protestations From Atop The Spruce Tree.

But he did it. This little brave cat did it. He "Lived" a fullfilled Cat-Life, despite his pain, trauma, challenges. What an absolute Hero.

And so, I will take his lead, and Live.