Misha and Effie
Content Warning: These stories are about violence, abuse, neglect and exploitation and may include references to suicide or self-harming behaviours. They may contain graphic descriptions and strong language and may be distressing. Some narratives may be about First Nations people who have passed away. If you need support, please see Contact & support.
Misha is autistic and in primary school.
When Misha was a toddler and still not talking, doctors told her mum Effie not to worry.
‘[They said], “It’s age-appropriate. Don’t get your knickers in a knot.” So they wouldn’t let me enrol him on the waitlist for speech pathology or anything like that.’
When Effie enrolled him in kindergarten, Misha became violent.
‘They just said he's got oppositional defiance disorder and likely ADHD [attention deficit hyperactivity disorder], but “We’re not going to do anything about that because he's too young.”’
Misha’s school suspended him the week he started.
‘You look at some of the things that happened, he was running away from the loud noises.’
When children bullied Effie, he lashed out. One day the school forced Misha to apologise to his bullies in a video. Other parents lobbied to have Misha expelled.
‘When they’re autistic it’s not visible. I’m just a bad parent and my kid’s just a little shit, yeah? And that’s the narrative with all the parents at the schools.’
A psychologist diagnosed Misha with oppositional defiant disorder and ADHD, but Effie said the medication had little effect on his behaviour. It wasn’t until several years later that another psychologist told her Misha was probably autistic.
‘I've been sitting in specialists’ offices since he was, like, under two years of age, and this is the first time hearing about it six years later.’
Effie said the psychologist stopped short of an official diagnosis because Misha’s behaviour was so bad she couldn’t complete the assessment.
‘So his behaviours are getting increasingly worse, you know? This kid is putting holes in every wall in my house. My husband and I got divorced. My car, he took a knife to my car.’
Effie said without a formal diagnosis, people blamed her for Misha’s behaviour.
‘All of these things now we know are sensory issues, totally related to his autism, but … I'm crazy and, you know, we’re just a bad family.’
One day out of desperation Effie took Misha to a hospital emergency ward.
‘I was abused by the nurses … They rolled their eyes. They didn’t treat us. They told us to go away … It was like, “I need help.”’
When a psychologist finally saw them, she referred Misha immediately to a specialist.
‘So finally he gets diagnosed and medicated for anxiety as well … All this is in the context of my son is about to turn 10, and 10 is the age of criminal accountability and he's just, like, looking at a life as a criminal.’
Effie said Misha saw three paediatricians, eight psychologists and four speech pathologists before he was correctly diagnosed.
‘You can’t get a diagnosis so you're just stuck in no-man’s-land.’
Misha is now supported by the NDIS.
‘This year we've just had the winning combination of meds, we've had the winning combination of support at the school with the [occupational therapist] … And as soon as we’re in this sweet spot, they cut our funding.’
Effie says the NDIS is ‘shrouded in mystery’.
‘It’s like, “You want to make it extremely difficult?” And now they're just cutting funding left, right and centre.’
Disclaimer: This is the story of a person who shared their personal experience with the Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation of People with Disability through a submission or private session. The names in this story are pseudonyms. The person who shared this experience was not a witness and their account is not evidence. They did not take an oath or affirmation before providing the story. Nothing in this story constitutes a finding of the Royal Commission. Any views expressed are those of the person who shared their experience, not of the Royal Commission.