it’s “disability rights!” until an autistic person does something autistic near you and it’s too much for you to handle, so you just ice them out. or you meet an autistic person who’s too different from “that one good autistic” you know.
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I honestly don’t know how to behave anymore. I broke myself trying to conform. The bullying and abuse didn’t help. The inability to explain the rules doesn’t help. The inability to accept any last part of me doesn’t help. It’s like society wants me to exist anti-socially.
It’s incredible that I can get along perfectly with people on the street. I can walk down dark alleys at midnight, and guide drug addicts to their bus stop, help them buy water, and give them a hug, but I couldn’t go a day in the office without being called schizophrenic. I’m not schizophrenic.
I had an epiphany, and in the last few years, when the last “friend” turned their back on me, I devoted my life to my childhood visions: helping the poor. At 2 and 3, I used to cry watching Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer over the Island of Misfit Toys. Now all I do is work for the misfits.
I spent the past 72 hours with at least 6 different variations of the spectrum.
I laughed, I groaned, I cringed, but I'd never do anything other than love the hell out of them.
The last time I met someone who said anything autistic people, we both spent the night in county.
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I laughed, I groaned, I cringed, but I'd never do anything other than love the hell out of them.
The last time I met someone who said anything autistic people, we both spent the night in county.
Me: "Uh, I am I have autism an-"
Coworker: "SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP! I DON'T CARE!"
Me: "I'm going to punch this bastard in his mouth. Make him leave."