By Dr Debra Bartholomew

I stood at the edge and dove in

Oh my God, where are you?

The water swirls like millions of tendrils pulling at me

It’s cold….dark….murky….

And I cannot see the bottom

I hear a voice in the distance, my younger crying out to me

It’s his brother….has he gone under?

We reach for him, we grab at him,

But he keeps slipping out of our grasp

Oh God, no, please don’t let him drown

Do not take him away from us.

We grab once, twice, three times….

He sees me but I’m not there

For he does not know me….his eyes are glazed over.

His body twitching now, muscles uncoordinated

Unable to create purposeful movement, he sinks, he cannot swim

We reach for him one more time…

He blinks….he calls my name….

His “Mommy” like the elixir of life

I smile….and together, we all wade to the shore,

Drenched, exhausted, spent but alive….aware….

I had hoped that autism’s grasp was starting to slacken, relax

But it seems it has an affinity for teenaged souls

And can even drag them close to this epileptic sea until they fall in

This new development fills me with trepidation

I am afraid of water….it terrifies me

But my child threatens to disappear….

I take a deep breath….

I stand at the edge and dive in.