I want to talk about grief, but not so much the grief of someone we love passing but more the grief for parts of our life that we consider lost. This came up in a disability discussion group I was part of recently. This was a big topic for many of us in the group, for various reasons.
A lot of autistic and other neurodivergent adults grieve for the time that they were not diagnosed and all the misery and discrimination they faced without their autistic peer group. How they feel that a diagnosis would have made their life that much better, if only an appropriate diagnosis were available in 1982! I have experience this myself. I am a little ashamed to admit this, but I was once – many years ago – at a panel discussion around autism and most of the audience were parents. The parents were complaining – legitimately – that the supports for their kids in school were limited and often hughly unsatisfactory. I remember feeling jealous for those kids as there was NO help when I was a kid due to the lack of a appropriate diagnosis. I went through school as the weird kid that nobody talked to unless they were actively engaged in bullying me! I regret to say for some time I felt jealous of autistic kids in more recent times as at least they had access to some kind of support even if it wasn’t ideal. Thankfully I have moved on from there with my thinking and I am delighted when people get the right support – not jealous – but I do understand the issue and why others might struggle.
Some Disabled people – especially those who have acquired their disability in adulthood and have a memory of life without a disability and miss this and long to go back to a world where they are not Disabled. Likewise, I can understand that, having a few acquired disability conditions myself. I have been taking anti-psychotic medication for over thirty years, and I barely remember a time without it. I do, however, long for a time in my past which will never happen again. An interesting thing about this is that a person can have a sense of pride as a Disabled person but still be in a state of grief for your past.
In 1994 I was twenty years old. I had a male partner who was a criminal and I ended up committing crimes with him and going to jail. This experience stripped away any innocence I might have had. I became homeless and a drug addict. My life changed dramatically, and it took me a long time to get my life back to anything approximating a good place. And I have, and so go me, but it has left me with a profound sense of grief for my lost life and innocence. I focus on the three years between moving out of home and going to prison. I actually still had a pretty unpleasant life before that, but I was broken by the five years of my life lost to addiction and institutions.
People often tell me that my difficult life in my twenties was what made me the person I am now, and that I shouldn’t regret it. That statement would be fine if there weren’t people I victimised and if the experience hadn’t been significantly traumatic for me as well. Yes, I regret those years and if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be much of a human. Of course, the experience contributed to who I am now but if I could go back in time and start over, I would never make those poor choices.
So yes, I grieve for my lost years. I think I always will, but I use those experiences to ensure I am now ethical and respectful. I suspect that many people grieve for times in their lives too. It is valid.












