Trigger Warning: Ableism, Strong Language
Here is a story with a misleading headline. The headline reads "Autism diagnosis shatters Welsh family who go through 'dark times' dealing with aspergers". Read the story. Read the ableist words of the mother. Read the excuses of the abandoning father.
The headline is misleading. Autism did not shatter this family. Privilege shattered this family. The lack of courage to deal with life shattered this family.
The girl, Holly struggled socially, had repetitive behaviors, and sensory issues. A therapist called her a "manipulative drama queen". The mother believed her daughter was just plain "naughty". She was bullied and abused at school. The family stayed together, perhaps on the belief that the child will get over herself and become their darling Princess Perfect that they feel entitled to.
At age 9, Holly is diagnosed with Aspergers. The father can't "cope with the diagnosis" so he leaves. And that is autism's fault? That is illogical misconceived bullshit.
An autism diagnosis should have been a relief and a positive for their family. Lucifer did not creep out of the bowels of Hell to give curse Holly and family with autism at age 9. Holly has been autistic every second of her life. Holly has experienced the strengths and drawbacks of autism every second of her life, and now her parents have been given valuable knowledge with which they can help their daughter cope with her unique challenges. Holly is the same girl with the same skill sets one second before and one second after diagnosis. Nothing was lost, and knowledge was gained.
Instead daddy goes on a bender, and we blame autism. Daddy took a hike because his once potentially perfect little girl no longer lives up to his ill conceived illusions. His privilege has been violated. He now realizes he has a disabled child and he doesn't feel he deserves that challenge.
He is not a victim of autism. He is a coward. He ran away.
The mother says she would have rather have had a "naughty" child than discovered that Holly have autism. Are you fucking serious? You would rather have a child that as a previous therapist put it, manipulates others for attention than have a child that misreads social cues due to a having a brain that is wired differently?
She is not a victim of autism. She is an asshole. She is the new Alison Singer.
Holly is not a victim of autism, she is a victim of her parents failures. And also of a society that blames her and autism as an excuse for her parents shortcomings. Everyone is perfect in this whitewashed illusion we live in, unless you are different. Then you are a living, breathing excuse for everyone elses problems.
Nobody is perfect. You don't always get what you think you deserve for all of the good you think you do. You can love and support those around you to make the best of it. Or you can be a whiny privileged coward, or a hate mongering ableist.
The headline is wrong. The story is not about autism. It should be "Privileged Welsh family shattered by real life". Get it straight.
Showing posts with label bullying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bullying. Show all posts
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Art of Internal Gaslighting
Trigger Warnings: Extreme gaslighting, autism, abuse, bullying, unpleasant medical problems
I am smart, and I could do great things if only I had common sense. So I've been told.
Absent Minded Professor, Idiot Savant, Rain Man. I've heard all of that.
I am a jerk. I don't socialize much. That is my fault. If I would try I would find it easy just like everyone else. But I don't try. I choose not to, my choice, my failing. Its because I'm a jerk.
I am clumsy. That is because I didn't play with other kids. If I went out and played baseball I would learn to catch it. If I would keep my eye on the fucking ball I would hit it and you wouldn't have to give up. If I wanted to make those free throws, I could. I wouldn't lose my balance if I would stand still. If only I got off my fat ass. If I did some push ups I could climb that rope. If I lost weight I wouldn't tip my bike over.
I am a hypochondriac. I overreact to minor illnesses and make things up. Its my excuse to fail, which I have openly chose to do from birth. I have been sick approximately zero times in my childhood. If.. if, by some off chance I really was sick it was minor and I should have sucked it up.
I am a wimp, or sissy or wuss or any other ableist, sexist or homophobic slur you want to toss at me. I get anxious in social encounters because I am a wimp. I sweat profusely when it is over 70 degrees because I am a wimp. I gag on food because I am a wimp, ( and also because I am a jerk for not eating something that someone made for me). When mom died, you shamed me for seeing a counselor because I was a wimp. I jump at loud sounds because I am cowardly wimp.
I am forgetful. When I forget something relating to someone it is personal. I personally choose to do it because I am a jerk. If I forget to do something I was supposed to do, its because I am lazy.
I am lazy. If I would use my intelligence, my gift buried under my landfill of self created shortcomings, I would still be ok. But I don't, therefore I am not.
I am naive. You moved me away from the city, because I was too naive to go to school here. I "would not have survived with the street kids". Too trusting, too gullible. If only I would wisen up and pay attention. .
I am an astute learner, and having mastered this craft, the art of gaslighting, I set forth into this world on my own at the age of 18 with hypocritical disdain not only for myself but the world around me. I saw my shortcomings and those of others as voluntary.
I tried to become a party animal in college. I had many meltdowns, which I was able to pass off by claiming I had drank more beer than I really had, or claiming I had a massive hangover from all of the beer the night before. I told myself I was just immature from lack of socializing. I would figure it out.
I became depressed my second year. I isolated myself, and mostly only attended quizzes and exams. I passed the courses using only the books and the syllabus. I actually got through that year, but this strategy began to fail me in my 3rd year as I began to fail showing up for even the mandatory. I viewed this as personal failure. I turned to no one for help because I didn't believe I needed it.
I also failed to keep up with my financial aid and ran out of money, so I had to quit. I told my friends I was taking a semester off then never spoke to them again. Told myself I would go back someday. Told myself I did it because I was lazy.
I didn't dare ask for help at home. I was grateful my family tolerated me. I felt that they tolerated me out of loyalty to my deceased mother. I felt that I reminded them of my abusive father (I am named after him). They told me so on occasion. I kind of look like a much taller version of him too. If they loved me, they did it despite the fact that I was an immature, naive, lazy, forgetful, clumsy, wimpy idiot savant with an antisocial personality (Their words which became mine). Upon learning that I was not going to attend college next semester, they threw me out.
I survived in direct defiance of my supposed naivety. Made it to the age of 27. By this point I was starting to isolate myself again as I had 7 years before. I felt sick and had crippling anxiety every day. I quit my job, cut off my friends and lived off saved money for 6 months, doing nothing but playing Warcraft. After washing those funds up, I moved out west into the home of my guild leader that had invited me to move out there.
I figured that I would finally learn to socialize out there and build a new life as far away as possible from the one I was currently living. The social anxieties I experienced from college soon returned. As did the workplace anxiety I was experiencing as I searched for and bounced around a few menial jobs.
I also began to feel increasingly weak and short of breath every day, as well as a lot of leg pain. I chalked it up to being out of shape, anxious and not acclimated to the new climate. It became more and more extreme, as I struggled to walk moderate distances, then walk up hills, then get out of bed and get dressed. Yet I still pressed on because I did not want to be anymore of a disappointment than I already was. And also, by nature, I was a wimp and a hypochondriac, it was probably a molehill that my weak mind contorted into the planet Jupiter.
I learned I had a pulmonary embolism, generated from a Deep Vein Thrombosis (technical word for big blood clot)in my left leg that I likely occurred from my trip to California (I took the scenic bus route). I learned this after taking myself to the emergency room. I accepted that I could possibly be sick when I no longer had the strength to make the 20 foot walk to my bathroom (I had to crawl), and that condition did not alleviate for over a week. I was told by doctors that I had lost 80% of my breathing capacity and odds of me not surviving another night were 66%.
It was my fault of course. A nurse even told me so. I made poor lifestyle choices. I was fat, and I play video games. I was not a hypochondriac this time, but I was lazy. And I got what I deserved. I got what I asked for out of life. I didn't need the nurse to tell me that, I already believed it. I didn't need my family to tell me that either, I had proven it.
I had to return home, to the place I was cast out of 7 years previously for being too lazy and a weakling because I was too lazy and a weakling. At this point, I am not sure who emotionally tormented me more, myself or them. The opposite of being a wimp is being strong, so thats what I had to be.
I tolerated the pain of walking. My left leg was permanently damaged from the clot. It swells easily, and I get pressure sores. Sores that grow and grow and grow when untreated. I had to take 2 weeks off a few years ago to let it heal a bit after it got infected. I saw the doctor a few times, found out where I could buy the medicated bandages he used, then began self treating it and went back to work.
I only took OTC painkillers for this, because I saw a prescription as a sign of weakness. A few days after I transferred to a new store closer to where I currently live, a sore broke open and I lost about a half pint of blood. Ambulanced off to the ER, I was kept in the hospital for 3 days, where my clotting and circulatory problems were Exhibit A for interns and med students who saw no problem in poking my wound at 4:30 am. Upon release I vowed to keep my bandage tighter so it would not happen again and went back to work the next day.
In addition to a 50+ hour work week, I took up weightlifting and distance running in this condition, in part to fix myself. A girlfriend broke up with me because I did not have the energy to keep up with her physically. I got strong, I got in shape and I shredded my leg to pieces. The skin had peeled off of about 40 percent of my lower left leg between my knee and foot, and off most of my ankle. The pain was no longer hideable. I took 2 weeks vacation to heal, but did not get signficantly better. I worked another month before I was directed by my boss to take medical leave.
At this point I was of the belief that I was going to lose the leg, and that did not frighten me. At least I would be visibly disabled. At least no one could look at me in a wheelchair or on crutches and say "He's just a lazy ass crybaby". At least I could say I lost my leg being tough. At least I could say, I am a typical person doing typical things in life and I had the scars to prove it (to myself).
The practitioner that treated me called my recovery a "Christmas Miracle" 10 weeks later. Unfortunately from being sedentary for 10 weeks, I noticed a familiar stiffness and shortness of breath the day I had the bandages removed for the final time. They said it was probably just a cold but I should have it checked out. I was supposed to return to work the next day so I was stressed It was in fact the beginnings of another pulmonary embolism. Nowhere near life threatening because I reacted early this time.
This is how the bullies, the abusers, the gaslighters and the haters win. They don't have to spend their lives abusing you, you will do it to yourself far more efficiently. The people who taught me how to hate myself are either long gone from my life, or I keep a safe distance from them.
They don't tell you "You are different...here this is what you are, be proud". They tell you "You are different....become same or die!". Even now, I wonder. Am I autistic, or am I making an excuse for not being same?
I am smart, and I could do great things if only I had common sense. So I've been told.
Absent Minded Professor, Idiot Savant, Rain Man. I've heard all of that.
I am a jerk. I don't socialize much. That is my fault. If I would try I would find it easy just like everyone else. But I don't try. I choose not to, my choice, my failing. Its because I'm a jerk.
I am clumsy. That is because I didn't play with other kids. If I went out and played baseball I would learn to catch it. If I would keep my eye on the fucking ball I would hit it and you wouldn't have to give up. If I wanted to make those free throws, I could. I wouldn't lose my balance if I would stand still. If only I got off my fat ass. If I did some push ups I could climb that rope. If I lost weight I wouldn't tip my bike over.
I am a hypochondriac. I overreact to minor illnesses and make things up. Its my excuse to fail, which I have openly chose to do from birth. I have been sick approximately zero times in my childhood. If.. if, by some off chance I really was sick it was minor and I should have sucked it up.
I am a wimp, or sissy or wuss or any other ableist, sexist or homophobic slur you want to toss at me. I get anxious in social encounters because I am a wimp. I sweat profusely when it is over 70 degrees because I am a wimp. I gag on food because I am a wimp, ( and also because I am a jerk for not eating something that someone made for me). When mom died, you shamed me for seeing a counselor because I was a wimp. I jump at loud sounds because I am cowardly wimp.
I am forgetful. When I forget something relating to someone it is personal. I personally choose to do it because I am a jerk. If I forget to do something I was supposed to do, its because I am lazy.
I am lazy. If I would use my intelligence, my gift buried under my landfill of self created shortcomings, I would still be ok. But I don't, therefore I am not.
I am naive. You moved me away from the city, because I was too naive to go to school here. I "would not have survived with the street kids". Too trusting, too gullible. If only I would wisen up and pay attention. .
I am an astute learner, and having mastered this craft, the art of gaslighting, I set forth into this world on my own at the age of 18 with hypocritical disdain not only for myself but the world around me. I saw my shortcomings and those of others as voluntary.
I tried to become a party animal in college. I had many meltdowns, which I was able to pass off by claiming I had drank more beer than I really had, or claiming I had a massive hangover from all of the beer the night before. I told myself I was just immature from lack of socializing. I would figure it out.
I became depressed my second year. I isolated myself, and mostly only attended quizzes and exams. I passed the courses using only the books and the syllabus. I actually got through that year, but this strategy began to fail me in my 3rd year as I began to fail showing up for even the mandatory. I viewed this as personal failure. I turned to no one for help because I didn't believe I needed it.
I also failed to keep up with my financial aid and ran out of money, so I had to quit. I told my friends I was taking a semester off then never spoke to them again. Told myself I would go back someday. Told myself I did it because I was lazy.
I didn't dare ask for help at home. I was grateful my family tolerated me. I felt that they tolerated me out of loyalty to my deceased mother. I felt that I reminded them of my abusive father (I am named after him). They told me so on occasion. I kind of look like a much taller version of him too. If they loved me, they did it despite the fact that I was an immature, naive, lazy, forgetful, clumsy, wimpy idiot savant with an antisocial personality (Their words which became mine). Upon learning that I was not going to attend college next semester, they threw me out.
I survived in direct defiance of my supposed naivety. Made it to the age of 27. By this point I was starting to isolate myself again as I had 7 years before. I felt sick and had crippling anxiety every day. I quit my job, cut off my friends and lived off saved money for 6 months, doing nothing but playing Warcraft. After washing those funds up, I moved out west into the home of my guild leader that had invited me to move out there.
I figured that I would finally learn to socialize out there and build a new life as far away as possible from the one I was currently living. The social anxieties I experienced from college soon returned. As did the workplace anxiety I was experiencing as I searched for and bounced around a few menial jobs.
I also began to feel increasingly weak and short of breath every day, as well as a lot of leg pain. I chalked it up to being out of shape, anxious and not acclimated to the new climate. It became more and more extreme, as I struggled to walk moderate distances, then walk up hills, then get out of bed and get dressed. Yet I still pressed on because I did not want to be anymore of a disappointment than I already was. And also, by nature, I was a wimp and a hypochondriac, it was probably a molehill that my weak mind contorted into the planet Jupiter.
I learned I had a pulmonary embolism, generated from a Deep Vein Thrombosis (technical word for big blood clot)in my left leg that I likely occurred from my trip to California (I took the scenic bus route). I learned this after taking myself to the emergency room. I accepted that I could possibly be sick when I no longer had the strength to make the 20 foot walk to my bathroom (I had to crawl), and that condition did not alleviate for over a week. I was told by doctors that I had lost 80% of my breathing capacity and odds of me not surviving another night were 66%.
It was my fault of course. A nurse even told me so. I made poor lifestyle choices. I was fat, and I play video games. I was not a hypochondriac this time, but I was lazy. And I got what I deserved. I got what I asked for out of life. I didn't need the nurse to tell me that, I already believed it. I didn't need my family to tell me that either, I had proven it.
I had to return home, to the place I was cast out of 7 years previously for being too lazy and a weakling because I was too lazy and a weakling. At this point, I am not sure who emotionally tormented me more, myself or them. The opposite of being a wimp is being strong, so thats what I had to be.
I tolerated the pain of walking. My left leg was permanently damaged from the clot. It swells easily, and I get pressure sores. Sores that grow and grow and grow when untreated. I had to take 2 weeks off a few years ago to let it heal a bit after it got infected. I saw the doctor a few times, found out where I could buy the medicated bandages he used, then began self treating it and went back to work.
I only took OTC painkillers for this, because I saw a prescription as a sign of weakness. A few days after I transferred to a new store closer to where I currently live, a sore broke open and I lost about a half pint of blood. Ambulanced off to the ER, I was kept in the hospital for 3 days, where my clotting and circulatory problems were Exhibit A for interns and med students who saw no problem in poking my wound at 4:30 am. Upon release I vowed to keep my bandage tighter so it would not happen again and went back to work the next day.
In addition to a 50+ hour work week, I took up weightlifting and distance running in this condition, in part to fix myself. A girlfriend broke up with me because I did not have the energy to keep up with her physically. I got strong, I got in shape and I shredded my leg to pieces. The skin had peeled off of about 40 percent of my lower left leg between my knee and foot, and off most of my ankle. The pain was no longer hideable. I took 2 weeks vacation to heal, but did not get signficantly better. I worked another month before I was directed by my boss to take medical leave.
At this point I was of the belief that I was going to lose the leg, and that did not frighten me. At least I would be visibly disabled. At least no one could look at me in a wheelchair or on crutches and say "He's just a lazy ass crybaby". At least I could say I lost my leg being tough. At least I could say, I am a typical person doing typical things in life and I had the scars to prove it (to myself).
The practitioner that treated me called my recovery a "Christmas Miracle" 10 weeks later. Unfortunately from being sedentary for 10 weeks, I noticed a familiar stiffness and shortness of breath the day I had the bandages removed for the final time. They said it was probably just a cold but I should have it checked out. I was supposed to return to work the next day so I was stressed It was in fact the beginnings of another pulmonary embolism. Nowhere near life threatening because I reacted early this time.
This is how the bullies, the abusers, the gaslighters and the haters win. They don't have to spend their lives abusing you, you will do it to yourself far more efficiently. The people who taught me how to hate myself are either long gone from my life, or I keep a safe distance from them.
They don't tell you "You are different...here this is what you are, be proud". They tell you "You are different....become same or die!". Even now, I wonder. Am I autistic, or am I making an excuse for not being same?
Sunday, March 17, 2013
To the two tools making fun of me on Mamaroneck Ave yesterday
Trigger Warning: Bullying, Strong Language
"Derp..dee..derp"
Gee I've never heard that one before! They used to call me lurch in high school. That was before I went out for football and started lifting weights (funny how a little muscle tone exponentially decreases peoples urge to bully you). That was before I was aware of how awkward my posture, gait and walk were.
In the world of gainful employment, I have learned to control my movements in public somewhat, to be conscious of my back being straight and my feet pointing forward. However, on the 6th day of a 5 day work week, when I have 4 hours of stuff to get done and 3 hours left to do it, I stop giving 2 shits if someone thinks I move like a .......
Exhausted, at the end of a break I was rushing to get an extra large coffee, contemplating not my mannerisms, but an espresso shot. I hear what I have heard a thousand times before. I know they're talking about me.
"Derp..dee...derp", "Derp..dee...derp", "Derp..dee...derp"
I have never seen these two persons before. Male fantasizing ensues. I want to kick the ever loving crap out of them. Or at least confront them. But I have a job, I don't have a criminal record, and I don't have time. I open the door to the coffee shop. Then I promptly close it. They have 1 worker and the crowd at the counter fills the store. I would not have fit in the building. I decide to head back and settle on a Red Bull.
"Awfully crowded in there" one of them says to me in an infantile tone. I know when I am being patronized.
"Yeah". I reply and start walking back towards work. Even when dealing with people I don't like, I am programmed to act with a certain level of civility. I work in retail after all.
I hear their whispers and giggles as I walk away. Then a lady I did not recognize (but wish I did, she was quite attractive) called me by name and said hi.
I responded and asked her how she was, all this time having no idea who she is but being quite happy to see her. She was about to go into a movie theater and saw me moving quickly, so the small talk was short and sweet. The way I like it. I noticed that the snickering of the two fools standing on the sidewalk behind me had ceased.
And thus ends the cliched feel good story of week of the socially awkward Autistic nerdy guy becoming cool and his bullies being taught a lesson when accepted publically by a pretty woman he can't remember. (FYI I never dated her. My face blindness isn't THAT bad).
Or not. This shit really pisses me off. I wasn't joking when I said my first reaction was to clobber these two clowns. The timely acknowledgement of that woman made me feel relief for a brief second. This brings back memories upon memories of being teased, bullied and rejected until I decided to stop accepting that.
I am at least 8 inches taller, and in much better shape than both of them. I might be slightly younger too. Also they were smoking, and I doubt late 30 something smokers started smoking last week. They didn't appear to have spent any intimate time with a bar of soap recently either. My point being that these two jackasses are not anyone to be mocking me or anyone else, and if they wanted to take it further...well it would hurt them a hell of a lot more than it would hurt me.
I did not pulverise or confront these two because I was on work time and it is not worth it. I cannot fight every battle that comes my way. I do not have the spoons for it. No human, autistic or NT does. I cannot lash out everytime myself or someone like me is mistreated because the fight would never fucking end.
"Derp..dee..derp"
Gee I've never heard that one before! They used to call me lurch in high school. That was before I went out for football and started lifting weights (funny how a little muscle tone exponentially decreases peoples urge to bully you). That was before I was aware of how awkward my posture, gait and walk were.
In the world of gainful employment, I have learned to control my movements in public somewhat, to be conscious of my back being straight and my feet pointing forward. However, on the 6th day of a 5 day work week, when I have 4 hours of stuff to get done and 3 hours left to do it, I stop giving 2 shits if someone thinks I move like a .......
Exhausted, at the end of a break I was rushing to get an extra large coffee, contemplating not my mannerisms, but an espresso shot. I hear what I have heard a thousand times before. I know they're talking about me.
"Derp..dee...derp", "Derp..dee...derp", "Derp..dee...derp"
I have never seen these two persons before. Male fantasizing ensues. I want to kick the ever loving crap out of them. Or at least confront them. But I have a job, I don't have a criminal record, and I don't have time. I open the door to the coffee shop. Then I promptly close it. They have 1 worker and the crowd at the counter fills the store. I would not have fit in the building. I decide to head back and settle on a Red Bull.
"Awfully crowded in there" one of them says to me in an infantile tone. I know when I am being patronized.
"Yeah". I reply and start walking back towards work. Even when dealing with people I don't like, I am programmed to act with a certain level of civility. I work in retail after all.
I hear their whispers and giggles as I walk away. Then a lady I did not recognize (but wish I did, she was quite attractive) called me by name and said hi.
I responded and asked her how she was, all this time having no idea who she is but being quite happy to see her. She was about to go into a movie theater and saw me moving quickly, so the small talk was short and sweet. The way I like it. I noticed that the snickering of the two fools standing on the sidewalk behind me had ceased.
And thus ends the cliched feel good story of week of the socially awkward Autistic nerdy guy becoming cool and his bullies being taught a lesson when accepted publically by a pretty woman he can't remember. (FYI I never dated her. My face blindness isn't THAT bad).
Or not. This shit really pisses me off. I wasn't joking when I said my first reaction was to clobber these two clowns. The timely acknowledgement of that woman made me feel relief for a brief second. This brings back memories upon memories of being teased, bullied and rejected until I decided to stop accepting that.
I am at least 8 inches taller, and in much better shape than both of them. I might be slightly younger too. Also they were smoking, and I doubt late 30 something smokers started smoking last week. They didn't appear to have spent any intimate time with a bar of soap recently either. My point being that these two jackasses are not anyone to be mocking me or anyone else, and if they wanted to take it further...well it would hurt them a hell of a lot more than it would hurt me.
I did not pulverise or confront these two because I was on work time and it is not worth it. I cannot fight every battle that comes my way. I do not have the spoons for it. No human, autistic or NT does. I cannot lash out everytime myself or someone like me is mistreated because the fight would never fucking end.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Autistic people should....
Trigger Warning: Bullying
I have spent a lot of time over the past week thinking about what my answer to that should be, or even if I have a right to answer it. The investigations that led to my self diagnosis began after last thanksgiving, and I came to my conclusion right around christmas.
That moment gave me a brief liberation, as I finally had a word that described me. I was an "aspie". YAY!!!!
Then the reality set in. I found out I was a camouflaged member of an extremely marginalized, abused and discriminated against group of people. I felt unworthy, I felt like a coward. I am "passing".
I learned to start passing in 2nd grade. I had many awkward moments in K and 1st but I was not friendless and antisocial, just weird. In 2nd we were given group assignments. I did not feel comfortable in the group and I would stare at the floor, flap my hands and scratch myself through most of the morning. One of the "cool" kids took to imitating me in front of the class. The teasing and bullying became contagious. People who were my friends for the last 2 years took to mocking me. One day after school, a bunch of kids. It was probabaly 10 or 15 kids but at the moment I thought it was 100. They stood about 30 feet away, some behind trees and booed me. A few threw rocks and pine cones. A few were the same kids that voted me class president the year before. My teacher started sending me to the school psychiatrist daily. I wonder what diagnosis was on the table? I spent a lot of my time there, but nothing I know of came of it.
I felt like I wasn't smart anymore, I wasn't good anymore. In 3rd grade I spent my lunch hours with a speech therapist, because I had developed a lisp and I spoke out of place in conversations. I realized being myself was being loathed by others, so I figured out the best thing I could do was be invisible. I became conscious of my flapping. I stopped raising my hand in class. I answered wrong on purpose sometimes. I opted for the library over the playground or spent recess time in the bathroom. It took a long time to learn to disappear. I was picked on for my eccentricities throughout school. I had severe meltdown issues my first year in college as I felt forced to socialize (party) nightly with my peers. Sophomore year I opted for a solo dorm rather than a roommate and got approved. I made occasional public appearances as to maintain the fact that I was not dead, but I had finally succeeded. I disappeared.
I disappeared so well that no one noticed when I dropped out of college 2 years later. I supported myself working night shift at a 24 hour fast food place. I job hopped for years. Out of desperation I took a pressure sales job at an electronics retailer. Fortunately, they had good sales training with how to videos. I established a formula for eye contact and making small talk and actually became an above average performer, though the anxiety I felt was overpowering. I eventually quit that job and holed myself up for 7 months with saved money.
None the less, I learned to pass, to hide myself and appear "normal" in that fashion. Anything I did that was abnormal, like head rocking, flapping, listening to repetitive video game music and hip hop beats over and over for hours I discussed with no one ever. I watch news so I have something to discuss if ever engaged by anyone in small talk. I have learned to deflect conversations and questions about myself. I wear nondescript clothing showcasing none of my interests...
Getting to the topic of this flash blog thingy (I am very new at this!). I don't know very many autistic people besides myself. And I relive these past experiences with the new found knowledge and wisdom that I am Autistic. And I read the incredibly heart wrenching things that self advocates have to say about their experiences from these blogs. All I can say is that:
Autistic people should be Free.
I have spent a lot of time over the past week thinking about what my answer to that should be, or even if I have a right to answer it. The investigations that led to my self diagnosis began after last thanksgiving, and I came to my conclusion right around christmas.
That moment gave me a brief liberation, as I finally had a word that described me. I was an "aspie". YAY!!!!
Then the reality set in. I found out I was a camouflaged member of an extremely marginalized, abused and discriminated against group of people. I felt unworthy, I felt like a coward. I am "passing".
I learned to start passing in 2nd grade. I had many awkward moments in K and 1st but I was not friendless and antisocial, just weird. In 2nd we were given group assignments. I did not feel comfortable in the group and I would stare at the floor, flap my hands and scratch myself through most of the morning. One of the "cool" kids took to imitating me in front of the class. The teasing and bullying became contagious. People who were my friends for the last 2 years took to mocking me. One day after school, a bunch of kids. It was probabaly 10 or 15 kids but at the moment I thought it was 100. They stood about 30 feet away, some behind trees and booed me. A few threw rocks and pine cones. A few were the same kids that voted me class president the year before. My teacher started sending me to the school psychiatrist daily. I wonder what diagnosis was on the table? I spent a lot of my time there, but nothing I know of came of it.
I felt like I wasn't smart anymore, I wasn't good anymore. In 3rd grade I spent my lunch hours with a speech therapist, because I had developed a lisp and I spoke out of place in conversations. I realized being myself was being loathed by others, so I figured out the best thing I could do was be invisible. I became conscious of my flapping. I stopped raising my hand in class. I answered wrong on purpose sometimes. I opted for the library over the playground or spent recess time in the bathroom. It took a long time to learn to disappear. I was picked on for my eccentricities throughout school. I had severe meltdown issues my first year in college as I felt forced to socialize (party) nightly with my peers. Sophomore year I opted for a solo dorm rather than a roommate and got approved. I made occasional public appearances as to maintain the fact that I was not dead, but I had finally succeeded. I disappeared.
I disappeared so well that no one noticed when I dropped out of college 2 years later. I supported myself working night shift at a 24 hour fast food place. I job hopped for years. Out of desperation I took a pressure sales job at an electronics retailer. Fortunately, they had good sales training with how to videos. I established a formula for eye contact and making small talk and actually became an above average performer, though the anxiety I felt was overpowering. I eventually quit that job and holed myself up for 7 months with saved money.
None the less, I learned to pass, to hide myself and appear "normal" in that fashion. Anything I did that was abnormal, like head rocking, flapping, listening to repetitive video game music and hip hop beats over and over for hours I discussed with no one ever. I watch news so I have something to discuss if ever engaged by anyone in small talk. I have learned to deflect conversations and questions about myself. I wear nondescript clothing showcasing none of my interests...
Getting to the topic of this flash blog thingy (I am very new at this!). I don't know very many autistic people besides myself. And I relive these past experiences with the new found knowledge and wisdom that I am Autistic. And I read the incredibly heart wrenching things that self advocates have to say about their experiences from these blogs. All I can say is that:
Autistic people should be Free.
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