When my son was newly diagnosed with autism, I was reading everything—the good, the bad, and the ugly. So much so that to this day, I can barely handle reading anything on the subject because I overdosed so badly on it. I went through a grieving process as all families do. Grieving my expectations, hopes, and dreams. It was during this time that all hell broke loose.

My child, like a lot of other people who experience autism, has a lot of other psychological and medical issues that interact with his autism. The combination of all those things led to some years I’m sure were just as horrific for him as they were for us. I feel bad using words like “hell” and “horrific” to describe this, but those are words that describe this time in our lives.

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I’ve talked with a lot of parents of children with autism, and this seems to be something that happens with a lot of our children. As a parent, you are desperately trying to figure out how to help your child. You are talking to everyone, pleading with doctors, therapists, and anyone who might have some help. But nothing seems to work.

Your child is in and out of the hospital. It’s a very dark time. You don’t feel like you have anywhere to turn. The only people who really understand what you are going through are other autism parents you’ve found, and they are your lifeline. The parents with older children tell you it will get better. They tell you not to give up hope on your child doing things yet because you will be surprised. But you don’t believe them. You start to question if they really understand the hell you’re living through. How could your child ever do x, y, and z? It’s impossible.

And yet . . . I’m now one of those parents with an older child with autism. We survived hell and the horrific. Things I never thought would be remotely possible for my son are happening. He attends an early morning church class and is currently passing all his high school classes despite having severe sleep issues that prohibited this previously. He has people at school he considers friends for the first time this year.

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We haven’t made it to driving a car and having a job yet. We’re working toward that. He won’t be graduating on time, but he will likely graduate from high school despite learning disabilities and previously severe behavioral issues. He currently has no behavioral issues at school, and at home, the only ones he has are those of a normal teenager. It is my hope, now, that in the next 10 years, he will be self-sufficient enough to live on his own in an apartment. It may not happen. I’m not sure he wants that to happen. But that is my current dream for him.

How did we get here? Part of it came from him and gaining plain old maturity. Part of it was that a big turning point was doing genetic testing to find out specific medications for him that work. This is really when things started coming together for us. Part of it was never giving up, and the fabulous therapists and teachers who worked with him and us along the way. So, if you’re in the middle of hell and the horrific, believe me when I say, “There is hope.”