What is: Eloping?

The word “elope” means “to run away secretly.” For many, this word brings a very specific picture to mind: one of a young couple running away to get married. Before I became an autism parent, that was my first image too.

But once you become an autism parent, the word “elope” takes on a different, much more terrifying meaning.

To elope, as it is used in reference to autism, has the same definition as above: it means to run away secretly. Unfortunately, when an autistic child elopes, dangerous things can happen.

It is estimated that 49% of autistic children have a tendency to elope. This habit of running away without warning can be due to them wishing to run away from an environment or situation that makes them uncomfortable (often due to sensory sensitivities), or a desire to run toward something that has caught their attention. Many autistic individuals, children and adults alike, can become very captivated by certain special interests. It is not uncommon for us to become so absorbed in what we are doing or thinking about, that we become unaware of our surroundings.

Accidents (such as drowning) are the leading cause of death in autistic children, which makes eloping very serious business.

My oldest son is autistic and ADHD, and when he was small, he was the champion of eloping.

There was nothing this child couldn’t escape: baby gates, child-proof locks, childproof door handles, safety harnesses, and his car seat. At home, he would wait for the one moment I would shut my eyes or go use the washroom to run away. In public, he would pull out of my grasp, or jump out of the shopping cart at the grocery store and disappear down an aisle or under a display case in a fraction of a second. It was terrifying.

The potential for danger never let up, not even when he was sleeping. One night, long after bedtime, I heard him out of bed. By the time I got to him, he was sitting on the cooktop of our stove, playing with the nobs. Another time, I woke up to the sound of running water, and discovered that he had filled the bathtub and flooded the entire bathroom. We installed a childproof lock on every single door inside our house, and made sure to lock them all every single night, but I still never slept. I was always semi-conscious, listening, and waiting; waiting for the little boy I loved desperately to run away again.

My number one fear during his early years was that he would run away and get into an accident, run away and not be able to tell anyone his name or my name (he was non-verbal at the time), or run away and be picked up by someone who would abuse him. 

Between the constant worry that he could be in danger, and the chronic lack of sleep, I became a fraction of my normal self. The constant hypervigilance took a toll on my health, and even though my son no longer elopes, and the danger has passed, I still feel the effects of those years in my body. I am still overly cautious, still a light sleeper, and still experiencing chronic stress that just won’t go away.

And so, to the people who have called me a “helicopter parent” in the past, this post is for you. I hope someday you see this or a story like it, and learn that some families are going though circumstances you don’t understand.

To nearly half of all autism families: the 49% experiencing elopement, this one is for you too. May you know that you are not alone. May you know that I believe your stories, even if no one else does.

And finally, to the friends and family of anyone raising an autistic child: this is also for you. Please, please, please check in. There is a 50/50 chance that your friends are struggling, are exhausted, and are sitting up every night waiting for the worst to happen. Check in on them. Love them. And take some work off their plate. They need you.

Need some ideas of how to help an autism family? Check out my previous series here.
Need some specific ideas for dealing with eloping? I’ll be sharing some next week. Please subscribe so you don’t miss them.

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