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transautistwoman

Sitting Next to You – A Poem

I sit next to you
A whole galaxy of understanding just inches away
I look bored you say
Let’s watch Supernatural you say
You don’t wait for an answer
That’s fine, because you would be waiting too long
It’s been hours since I could form any meaningful words
My mouth has been clamped shut
The screams for help born in my brain are so loud
I wonder
Will you be able to hear them this time?
You look over at me
You think I’m bored
You think I’m tired
You don’t see under the lies that this body of mine tells in so many muted words

We watch Supernatural together
Oh how I wish I could tell you what’s in my head
But I’m stuck
I’m stuck
I’m stuck
I’m stuck
I’m stuck
On repeat
Like a broken record
But at least the record can still sound off the same repetitive notes
I can’t even get the speaker known as my mouth to play even the most basic tune from my head

You pause the show and ask me if I want a drink
“Yeah.” I manage to say.
You ask me if I would like soda or water
“mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm” there it is again, that hum that’s become all too familiar
I smack the back of my head and then hold it
You ask me if I want soda
“Yeah.” The word escapes my lips, pre-recorded and on auto pilot
Really, I wanted water, but I can’t figure out how to speak

You sit back down, soda in hand, a moment of silent
“Mmmmmm” I fidget, press my hand to my ears
“Are you okay?” you ask me, distracted
“Mmmmmm” the humming comes again. You wait, patiently.
“Tired” I finally blurt out, the only word I can find
But it’s not right
“Go to bed then silly” you say, rustling my hair, you say you love me
Please, please, I’m begging you not to touch me right now
I can’t tell you that
You hug me

You unpause the show
The silence from my mouth to the air around me is deafening
Defeating
“I’m here!” I scream, beating on the edges of the cage known as my mind
“I’m here, and I’m hurt.” You look over at me, tired and bored, clueless to the storm inside
“I’m here, and I have so much to tell you.” I look at you, hoping my eyes are pleading
“You look so tired honey, why don’t you get some sleep after this?”

I sit next to you
A whole galaxy of understanding just inches away

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An Autistic self-advocate addresses nine misconceptions about Autism

A reaction to several frustrating, annoying and/or hurtful statements that allistic people make about/toward autistic individuals

jeanettepurkis

In this post I address nine misconceptions around Autism as best I can in a short space.

“You don;t seem very Autistic to me. My nephew is Autistic and he can’t even get the bus.You go to work….”

While Autistic people often share a number of general characteristics, we are all individuals. Two Autistic people can be vastly different from one another. Autism is not a determinant of character or what path through life we may take. It is a different neurology, or a different way the brain is ‘wired’ to non-autistic people’s. Suggesting that someone is ‘not Autistic enough’ is highly insulting. Autistic people may have significant challenges which they manage well wiht strategies or they may keep their struggles hidden. Unless you are that person or live closely with them, you can’t really assess what their Autism means for them. And I really don’t enjoy having to…

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I don’t like it – there’s more to that phrase when you’re autistic

As an adult coming to full realization of being Autistic, I’ve come to realize many things. One of them is that Allistic people seem to have a much different meaning of “I don’t like X” than autistic people do.

I have seen people throughout my life say “I don’t like X” but then they eat, touch, look at, listen to, do, whatever it is they say they don’t like, and it’s as if there isn’t even a single issue there. They complain about not liking it, and then just do it, like it’s easy.
I’ve spent my life growing up saying “I don’t like X”, except, when I say I don’t like something, I mean that it can, and often does, impair my world. Things I “don’t like” aren’t just a matter of inconvenience. Things I don’t like can keep me from eating or showering for days on end. Things that I don’t like can obliterate my day in a matter of seconds if the dislike and discomfort is bad enough.

Throughout my life, I’ve basically been told to buck up and shut up when I don’t like something. Told that, just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I don’t have to do it, as if, by knowing something is a necessity that just means it’s all hunky-dory.
When I say I don’t like something, I don’t mean this fluid, simple, easy to dismiss dislike of any particular thing.

When I say I don’t like something, I mean it can ruin my day, I mean I can’t stand it, I mean that, even if I like the whole object, the part of it that I don’t like can keep me from the whole entirely (as said before, food and showers are a really good example)
Stop telling me I’m whining when I say I don’t like something. Stop telling me to buck up when I’m resistant to doing what I don’t like. You think I enjoy having such a hard time with supposedly simple stuff?

I don’t mean the same thing as you when I say “like”. I just know that’s how I feel, I don’t have a better word for it. Maybe loathe? Wary of? Concerned by?…. no. None of those fit. There are just some things that I don’t like, and those can make my life so much harder by encountering them.

It doesn’t make me lazy.

It doesn’t make me weak.

It doesn’t make me whiny.

This is something that allistic people need to understand. “Like” in the autistic world isn’t just a matter of bypassable annoyances. Please stop treating it as if that is what we mean when we say we don’t like something…

No wonder I felt so ridiculous and lazy growing up

Stuck on repeat

“So, how are you doing today?” She asks me.

“I’m, doing okay, I, I, I, I, I…” I shut my mouth. “Mmmmm…” I hum for a moment as I smack myself in the back of the head. “It’s been an interesting day.”

My brain broke at some point about a month ago, I don’t know what happened. It’s like I got more autistic. I’ve been reading about the concept of burnout. That’s got to be what this is. My problems with words, especially mouth words, is terrifying.

I’ve always had a tenacity for language in general, and my capacity for mouth words has been pretty good my whole life. I have times where I would not speak, and if I got really upset I would be unable to speak, but I’ve, more often than not, been able to recall the right words, and I’ve never really had a problem getting stuck on words, but…

That’s changed. I find myself get stuck on certain words a lot. I’m noticing that it tends to be I, the, I’m, and, words like that. I’ll repeat it again and again and again until I shut my mouth and redirect, and my redirection, for whatever reason, seems to be humming and a whack to the back of the head. I don’t know where the repetition, or the subsequent reaction, has come from, and honestly, it scares the hell out of me. I’m not used to it.

I don’t know what it is, I just… get stuck. I don’t know why. I’ll be talking and then suddenly, there’s a glitch in my system, and *boom* I’m skipping like a cd.

“No, I don’t know what the, the, the, the, the, the…” [insert hum and head smack] “the note was about.”

Usually I’ll repeat the word at least 4 or 5 times before I realize what’s happening and am even able to shut my mouth.

I will definitely have to dig into it further and try to figure out what’s going on, until then, I continue to figure out how to navigate this whole new world since my brain broke.

Thank you for reading sunshines, take gentle care of yourself and have a beautiful day!

Thoughts on “Don’t get political on Facebook”

I see a lot of posts complaining that people get political or serious on Facebook. It is not lost to me that the majority of these people are cis/het and white.

Trust me. If I had the privilege to be able to not be political, I would.

If I had the ability to post nothing but pretty, funny, cute, omg pictures and uplifting statements, I would.

If my staying silent didn’t leave me complacent in the wake of the degradation and death of minority groups, I would stay silent.

If my every living breath wasn’t politicized for me, I wouldn’t be making this political.

If holding hands with our partners didn’t chance getting us beaten, killed, or raped, then I wouldn’t be talking serious all the time.

If daring to exist as trans didn’t chance losing me my job, my housing, my life (both figuratively and metaphorically), then I wouldn’t be so damn serious.

But until my struggles, and the struggles of my siblings have come to pass, I have no choice.

I don’t get the luxury of not dealing with politics.

I don’t get the luxury of not dealing with stark, depressing realities.

I don’t ever, ever get that luxury, because I live in a world that wants me hurt, wants me hidden, and wants me dead, and like hell I will go silently, because be damned if my children’s world is going to want them hurt, hidden and dead.

Here’s a little story about love, hate, misconceptions and social justice:

I’ve found myself become inherently wary when someone I am interested in says they are bi. Before anyone thrashes me for getting on with biphobia, can you hear me out?

First off, I know not all bi people are like the experiences I’ve had. I know. I know, and I know. I want to point this out as a reminder that even those of us who fight for social justice can be blinded by our own experiences, and we can turn the hatred, frustrations and fear that we fight against, and use them ourselves. So, what’s my story?

Well, I’m trans. There’s this little thing that I’ve heard too many times to count now when someone that I’m interested in (and they’ve shown reciprocation) finds out I like them! That’s these words:

“It’s okay, I’m bi.”

Look. I’m aware that I’m a non-op, binary presenting, transgender female, and that makes a difference, but for fuck’s sake, me not having a vagina doesn’t, I repeat, DOESN’T make me part man. It’s gotten so frustrating hearing this as often as I have, and I have every right to be pissed about it, but…

The problem comes in the fact that I have shut down any further conversation or possibility of dating someone when finding out they are bi, more than a few times.

That is on me. It is also something I’m working on.

My ultimate point is: DON’T BECOME WHAT YOU HATE.

I use my example with bisexual individuals because I know it catches attention. I see it in other groups though, often toward the majority. I see people proudly praising and talking about cis hate, or how they won’t hang out with cis people, or other majority groups.

I get it, oh man do I get it. I am so fucking tired of explaining and validating my own existence because of cis people! I’m right there with you, and boy do I understand the feeling, but again:

DON’T BECOME WHAT YOU HATE.

You don’t want the conversations, don’t have them.
You don’t want to fuck with stupid respectability politics, don’t.
You want to tell someone asking shitty questions to fuck off, tell them to fuck off.
You want to denounce an entire group of people… it’s going to far. Your suffering is turning you into something you’re not. Don’t be that person.
Do not put up with the bullshit. Do not put up with the questions. Fuck the appeals to respectability politics, but to say that a whole group is worthy of hate and vitriol… That doesn’t seem right to me. Look man, I get it. I get it far too well, but…

Why return hate with hate?

Thank you for reading and have a beautiful day sunshines

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