Autism Assistance Dog for Bryher

Hi, my name is Hannah and I am fundraising for my daughter Bryher to help get her an Autism Assistance Dog.

I’m taking on an exciting, and slightly scary, fundraising challenge! As a keen (but not particularly fast) trail runner I am going to be running 288 miles from Plymouth to Bude on the Cornish coast path over 6 days, starting on Monday 16th June. This is the equivalent to 11 marathons with elevation of over 48,000 feet - like climbing Everest one and a half times!

The initial cost of the dog is £20,000 and as a family we have put in our savings of £5,000. We are looking to fundraise for the remaining £15,000 and would be so grateful for any support you can give us.

If you’d like to follow along with our story and my challenge, please check out @runforbryher on Instagram and Facebook where we are posting regular updates about the challenge preparation, itinerary and the process we’re going through to get the dog!

It can be hard for people to understand the challenges that someone with autism faces, and every autistic person’s experience is unique to them. I asked Bryher to share her perspective so that you can get a sense of understanding life from her view point. This is what she wrote:

I know I am different—not in the way so many strive to be "unique" or stand out from the crowd. It’s evident in the nuances and complexities of communication that I can’t seem to grasp, in my attempts to stay afloat in a fast-paced society that leaves me gasping for breath as I try not to drown in its expectations, demands, and judgments.

What do you do when the safety net of childhood, which once allowed space for your "quirks" and "weirdness," slowly slips away, leaving you exposed to the elements of adulthood? I enter it surrounded by people, but maybe I turned up late. Did I get the wrong time? Why does it seem like everyone has already had a briefing and been given a manual for this thing called "life," yet I never was told?

It’s fine. I can push on. Strength and determination will get me through. Surely that’s enough.

It was a foolish hope—naïve optimism. My mind and body are buckling under the weight they carry, begging for relief, but I must keep moving forward. I’ve already stumbled so many times. I’m falling behind, but I will catch up. My sense of self was dropped long ago—it was too heavy, slowing me down. If I want to keep up, my best chance is to morph into someone like those around me. They won’t notice that way, will they? They won’t pick up on the anxiety flooding my veins, the confusion and fear gripping every fibre of my being, or the fumbling as I try my best to reflect their way of "being."

"What am I missing? Could there ever be a place for me in this world?"

These questions were only spoken into the quiet darkness of my room as sleep escaped me. The silence in response was deafening.

Fast forward eight years, and a diagnosis came: autism. I expected to be overcome with relief at finally having an answer, but instead, I was left bereft. While a diagnosis provided a label for what I was experiencing and enabled me to understand myself—how my brain operates and processes—it was not the end of the journey as I had expected. In fact, the journey was only just beginning.

Learning to unmask when you didn’t even know you were masking feels like an impossible challenge. But I have to. My mental health will continue to suffer if I don’t figure this out. That’s what I’ve been told. I tell myself, "I can do this. I will do this." But for every step forward, there are two steps back.

The fear of being authentically me and honouring my body’s needs is crippling. Even thinking about it leaves me breathless and dizzy.

And then the comments come—the ones you didn’t ask for, from people you never expected to hear them from.

I can escape from the world within the safety of my bedroom's four walls—my sanctuary. But I can’t outrun the words and voices of others that echo in my head. They tighten around me like a vice, suffocating my hopes and distorting my sense of self until the narrative I once claimed as my own is no longer mine, but theirs. And I hear myself whispering, ‘You’re a burden.’ ‘You will only get worse.’ ‘Look at how much you struggle.’

The statistics say it’s an uphill battle from here, too.

So, no, a diagnosis was not a peace-giving, joyfully affirming moment for me. But time has passed, and I have continued to learn. I have started to try and show up each day as myself, though it takes so much more courage than I ever thought it would—and more than I care to admit.

I want to follow my dreams.

I’ve always wanted to graduate from university, having studied something I love, and face the world of work with excitement and curiosity. I refuse to believe that this still can’t be the case for me. My direction is the same, but the way in which I will get there just looks a bit different now—and that’s okay.

It’s difficult to convey exactly why an autism assistance dog will be life-changing for me. I could share more about the specific challenges I have faced over the years, and I am happy to do so. However, while my words may lack eloquence, I hope they provide some insight into how it has felt—the hope I have to keep moving forward, the challenges I do and will face, and the reality so many others like me also grapple with.

I once believed that sheer determination to "fit in" and the effort to keep pace with everyone else would be enough. However, the impact on both my physical and mental health has been catastrophic. I’ve realized that I don’t need to try harder—I need to accept myself and the help and support that I need.

I don’t use the phrase "life-changing" lightly. I mean it with every part of me. The support will be invaluable in helping me on the path I have chosen for the years ahead.

It is my prayer and hope that people will support the fundraising and the incredible challenge my mum is undertaking on my behalf. I am in awe of her and the unwavering support she has given me—and continues to show every day.

This is how an Autism Assistance Dog will help

• Deep Pressure Therapy (DPT) – The dog will lay across the individual’s lap or on top of them, providing calming pressure which can help to regulate the nervous system and reduce anxiety

• Sensory overload assistance – Help the individual navigate sensory environments by providing a calming presence or guiding them to a quiet space

• Meltdown alert – Alert to signs of anxiety or impending meltdowns in the individual, allowing for proactive intervention or seeking a safe space

• Interrupting self-harming behaviours – They are trained to recognise and gently interrupt these behaviours

• Crowd management – Help individuals navigate crowded or busier places safely by providing a buffer against sensory overload and creating space around the individual

• Improving sleep – They can improve sleep with DPT and providing a sense of security and comfort

• Social interaction assistance – Can act as a social bridge to ease interactions with others and enhance the individual’s confidence in social settings.

• Independence – An assistance dog offers support in all settings and can help with improving confidence so that the individual feels happier to go out by themselves with the support of their assistance dog and better able to cope and manage in different situations by themselves.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I really appreciate any help or support you may be able to give!