Autistic Grieving

When my daughter died seventeen years ago, I hadn’t yet had an autism diagnosis, but my grief was so different from what most other seemed to experience that it was one of the signals of my neurodivergence. I was mostly numb to my sadness, surprised when people around me wept openly, though it seemed like I was the one who should have been falling apart. People asked to help me with laundry and childcare and I was frustrated and upset at the idea that I would want to…