A journey through grief with autism.

Alan Greenwell

3-Minute Read


I look back at the past few years and try to understand everything that I have lost. I have lost my Dad, my Mam to dementia and then to death, and my love and sole mate Bev so very suddenly. Taken too soon. I try to take in all of that loss and work out how to become less fragile and how to nurse my tiny little soul back to some form of semblance of order again.

Two years after losing Bev I am still so very fragile, so scared of the world. I get mad with myself when I start to get anxious when I check the mail. How is that my fragile little soul is so nervous about the world? I think the only thing in my life that does not give me anxiety is feeding (as me and Tam call them) Mammies Crows. They make no judgement, they appreciate pizza, bread, pepperoni and waffles with equal gusto. Within seconds of me opening the window to put something out for them they have formed an orderly queue on the fire escape and patiently caw at me and each other. Then as soon as the first crumb hits the roof they are peeling off and grabbing their treats. One of the crows who has a couple of white feathers on the inside of his wing always waits and is last to feed. I feel like he is the outsider of the murder. He is very patient and always gives me a look as if to say thanks.

The first crow to feed has a peppercorn look to their head plume. Maybe a sign of a life long lived. I often wonder what he or she has seen in their life. If only we could talk to the animals.

Back to being fragile.

The past few days I have started to question my desire to come of my antidepressants. I had one panic attack that was filled with stomach cramps and racing heart. All I have done is to change my intake by 50% on alternate days. 30mg one day and 20mg the next day. Not sure its working, and not sure it is the right thing to do any more.

I am going for a walk as my anxiety of thinking about this.

Back from my walk and all I bought was coffee, forgot to get some bread. Oh well.

Today’s breakfast for the crows was mini pepperoni left from Tams pizza. For some reason he loves normal size pepperoni but not the stuff that is about 12mm across. Go figure. At least he has stopped asking me to remove them. I hate oily fingers.

Time now to get a few bits of house work done and check the net for any work I can fit in before Tam gets home. I have given him the option of going to Pizza Hut for tea as he was so good at respite over the weekend and was so very very cuddly last night. I wonder if he will go for it or settle for pyjama night again.

Be well

Alan & Tam

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