My sister graduated in the top 5 percent of her class at San Francisco State University. She maintained a high GPA all throughout college and majored in psychology. She received two teaching credentials in English and special education and will be starting her master’s program in special education in the near future. On top of all of this, she’s working full-time as a teacher for young kids with learning disabilities.
When you read about her major accomplishments, you probably wouldn’t guess that she has autism. But she does.
Autism is a spectrum disorder. It affects brain development, social skills and can affect motor skills as well. The saying goes: once you’ve met one person with autism, you have only met one person with autism.
Most people are diagnosed with autism in early childhood. My sister wasn’t diagnosed until she was a sophomore in college. With her diagnosis came several co-existing conditions, two of which were depression and obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD).
My family and I were uneducated and unaware of autism. Because of this, my sister did not receive the support she needed throughout most of her life. We thought she was shy, had trouble making friends at school, didn’t do well in social situations, etc. But looking back and watching old family videos, we now know and understand what we didn’t for so long.
Her avoidance of eye contact. Her sensitivity to loud noises and bright lights. Her constant rocking back and forth. These are only some of the symptoms she showed. I always wonder: if we had known to look for these signs, could we have done more for her?
She faced so many obstacles, and we didn’t think she would be able to transfer to San Francisco State after her diagnosis because of how severe her OCD and depression were. We didn’t think she would be able to live on her own; we thought she would need to depend on us for a long period of time.
One of the worst feelings in life is watching the person you care most about suffer and knowing there’s nothing you can do to help them. I wanted so badly to take away my sister’s depression and place it on myself. She had been through so much in her life, and I just wanted her to be happy.
She was bullied, isolated and struggled with anxiety. On top of that, her OCD prevented her from being able to take public transportation and stopped her from going to places with large crowds of people. Some things that came so easily to people slowly became impossible tasks for my sister.
I felt like her OCD was leading her to social isolation. I wanted to help her understand that it was okay to be in crowds and take public transportation—nothing bad was going to happen. But it was actually me who didn’t understand. She had OCD. She had depression. She had anxiety. Those couldn’t just go away with the snap of a finger.
I would watch her repetitive behaviors. I would watch her meltdowns. I would watch her slowly isolate herself from her friends. I would watch everything, but could do nothing.
For the longest time, I felt useless. It took a while for me to realize that there was actually something I could do. And it turns out, I had been doing it all along.
I was there for her.
When she had her panic attacks, I was there for her. When she had difficult nights, I was there for her. When she felt all alone, I was there for her.
My sister has autism. She has struggled a lot. She has overcome a lot. She has been faced with challenges all of her life and has chosen to fight instead of surrender. She is the definition of perseverance.
She now works with children who have learning disabilities, some of which have autism. She absolutely loves her job and enjoys giving them the help that she never received herself. She even inspired me to get involved in the autism community. I have fundraised, volunteered and helped raise awareness. I have even traveled to Capitol Hill to advocate for autism legislatures. My sister and I will continue to help those affected by autism.
I love my sister with autism.
