SIBBS Newsletter, Autumn 2020

SIBBS Newsletter, Autumn 2020 | www.tcf.org.uk 8 I am an autistic * bereaved sibling and I want to tell you a bit about how my different way of experiencing the world has affected the way I have grieved. My brother David was my best friend. When I got diagnosed with autism he was one of the few people that appreciated the sense of relief and validation the diagnosis brought, the new understanding, the ability to find others like me, and the key to finding ways to capitalise on my strengths whilst working on my challenges. He supported me through the beginning of this journey, encouraging me while I grew in confidence and eventually felt ready to apply to university. I couldn’t have done it without him. Then I had to. In many ways, after my brother David died, my grief followed the usual pattern: shock and disbelief; acceptance and deep sadness; gradual emergence of happiness and eventually finding a new normal. But in some ways, it was different. I found that I wanted to go back to work less than a week after he died. People found that strange, but I find comfort in routines, and it reassured me to have some normality in this very, very strange time. My whole world was upside-down, but at least some small part of my routine was intact. I needed a lot of quiet alone time to sit and process my thoughts. I didn’t get that from talking to people (although being with people did bring me comfort and help me feel supported). People were worried about me and didn’t want me to be alone, but that time was really vital for my grief process. I didn’t often show emotion, especially in front of other people. Some people told me I would explode if I didn’t cry more, whilst others assumed I wasn’t particularly upset. I most definitely was deeply upset, and I certainly did cry, buckets. I was upset for David, for me, and for all the other people who are lost without him. But crying alone was my way. I tend to communicate very frankly, often bluntly. I don’t add (what I see as) unnecessary fluff to soften the way I talk about my brother dying and how it has affected me. I do think Autistic Grief by Laura Williams