#ofmy

Ear Of My Father, Hand Of My Mother

When I started writing and putting my story together, ‘My Story’ wasn’t going to be about blame, a kiss and tell story, what he said, what she said, what I said, it also wasn’t going to be a negative book.

There are many positive reviews of my book, one of those reviews is below:

Review by Author & Activist, T.R. Bauer –

5.0 out of 5 stars – Not just an exceptional piece of work, this book is a lifeline!

“King Solomon once lamented that there is nothing new under the sun. The great author, T.S. Eliot, famously wrote, “Good writers borrow, great writers steal.” In the case of this book I believe Ilana Estelle is the exception. ‘Finding the Calm After the Storm’ is not only enlightening; it is an honest to God original piece of work. How often does that come along?

What we have here is a book about cerebral palsy written by a woman who has cerebral palsy. It is her story and much more than just that. She takes us on her daunting journey of self-discovery and on that adventure we learn principles that can change our own lives, whether we are disabled or not.

This book is a lifeline for anyone who has endured hardship on this great voyage we call life. It is my hope that Ilana’s teachings will help you as much as they have helped me.”

– Author & Activist, T.R. Bauer

Throughout my life and my ‘book journey’ I have also never sought to blame, I have merely sought to understand why, because with an understanding of why, it would become clear why I wasn’t told about my disability. If someone were to read the book and think otherwise, they wouldn’t be reading the book I wrote.

I know my parents did the best with what they had and although their best didn’t match my best, it was the best for them. That is something I have had to reconcile. I didn’t get what I needed, I got what they needed.

Again, would I have wanted my life to be different? Yes, but spirit has taught me to go with what I have, with what I have been given. If it wasn’t for the life I’ve had, there would be no thought process, website, or book. I am grateful that I have all three.

I wake up every morning, feeling blessed about that, but I would also like to wake up and not to have to deal with the other side of my life, my autism.  Although I love and embrace certain aspects of autism, it is difficult to live with.

With autism, I struggle with concerns and worry over the things I have no control over. Not knowing about about autism as a child, made my anxiety worse.

I continually live and deal with anxiety because I have autism. The anxiety I have, creates the panic I feel that I don’t always have control over.

The time I spend with myself is the only time I have a clear mind, a time when I am able to make sense of things. Although routine has always been important to me, I never understood why. As a child it wasn’t obvious because things were always being done for me, but the moment I left home the cracks began to show.

Until I started writing and putting my thoughts and experiences together, I never really understood them. Now when I look back, I can see my struggles around routines, sensory input, black and white thinking, repetitive routines and behaviour.

Looking back, there are two things that stick out in my mind that pointed to autism all along. I remember my father being 46, and remember my mum telling me what age my grandmother was when I was born.

Although those two pieces of information may not seem significant, they are significant to me, because I deal with autism. I hold on to insignificant information someone without autism would hear and let go of.

Also, in my formative years because I didn't know about autism, others have always had certain expectations of me and  that was near to impossible to work through. Growing up I didn’t understand my symptoms or my life, now with a diagnosis I understand everything.

What I still struggle with is how I got to this place with everything I've had to deal with. It doesn't always rest easy, because others still have their opinions. And turning to my experiences, I'm not sure you really get over that.

I find it frightening.

I find it overly bewildering.

Isn’t that the weirdest part? That something, so natural, our own brains decide to turn on itself and begin to shift to give ones self up. I don’t think enough credit has been given to being “in love” as a teenager. In the act of discovering what’s really inside of ones mind, distraction like such is incurable. We grow up around people and unless you’re apathetic to a fault, it’s difficult not to fall into the normality of attraction. Man, I wasn’t “boy crazy” as a kid by any means, but there were a couple I can still fish out of my chaotic chasm of my head that still have me wondering. I can’t even identify the feeling.

It’s especially funny in the aspect that romantic love itself is rather egotistical. We find one person who we hold dearest and make us feel the best of ourselves. The person you glorify is in all honesty, your greater self to the furthest extent. Instead of finding this within, we cut and paste a carbon copy thought onto a warm, living, breathing being.

It’s easier this way.