#i hope this makes sense. autism is a communication disability and sometimes i struggle with being understood properly. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

birdofmay · 1 year

Note

hi i hope you r doing well I hope it’s ok to ask but i don’t know what support need/level I fit into could u help give any advice/insight?. I read over everything in your pinned but I’m still stuck bc I’m worried to label myself wrongly. can u help at all? I am open to any thoughts u have.. can u relate to my experience at all as a higher support autistic?

I feel like my sensory issue are severe and interfere w my ability to wear most clothes and just daily life stuff, I feel very overwhelmed and broken by change, struggle so much with driving that it’s dangerous, can struggle to process things and do it slowly, I am verbal but have loss episodes and in general barely talk bc social/communication issues,

very difficult to maintain and make relationships, I don’t know if I mask or not bc I feel like even if I were to try to I still seem autistic and mess it up despite some people telling they think I’m high functioning(but then turn around and tell me I’m r slur bc of my autism behaviors), I struggle with hygiene and eating drinking bc I don’t feel the cues or bc of executive dysfunction pain fatigue or sensory issues,

I have motor/pain/muscular issues (mobility worsening and affecting my ability to do things like go up stairs and walk) and I do occupational therapy and it does cause me to not be able to do certain things myself like wash/do my hair and Its a struggle to shower my body too, cannot exercise either bc of POTS

I can go in public but I do it with people bc the surroundings seem overwhelming, I do not have a job currently and I know it would be so hard on me but I am going to college and eventually will be forced to get one, struggle to use utensils to eat and struggle with tasks/instructions when not done right in front of me 1on1 like a million times, I have a lot of stims and a lot of harmful to myself ones, often info dumping about special interest

I can’t handle/fully understand money/taxes/bills, it’s hard for me to prepare meals, struggle to eat much bc of GI issues and jaw fatigue, do laundry, and manage chores, and manage medications, extreme issue with organization, learning disabled, get overwhelmed/meltdown/shutdown very easily

I’m not sure what else to add to take into consideration (can u give ideas) or how to tell which level and support need this fits as .. like I guess I’m not low support bc I do need help with BADLS as I mentioned but I I don’t know if it’s wrong of me to say I’m high support or medium support or a flux of both?.. and have no idea with “levels” I was dx with a level but feel like it’s incorrect .. and based on what I said which BADLS and IADLS do I need help with and how many is that? It’s confusing :(

Here's the relevant section of my FAQ post

"I don't know what support needs I'd be considered!"

Do you have care needs? No? Then you're not high support needs, you're most likely low or low-to-mid support needs.

My country re-assesses my support needs regularly; if you're medium or high support needs and weren't medically neglected your whole life, you'd normally know that you're medium or high support needs already, because that's tested (if you're not sure, check the documents). But testing is different from country to country.

Unless, of course, something happened recently that you now suddenly need a lot of help, definitely more than before. In this case there likely wasn't any testing yet. But in that case I can't help you either, because I don't test you.

Note because this still is a common misunderstanding: The DSM-5 says for example "Autism level 1: Requires support", but the support that's meant there has nothing to do with the support needs we're talking about in this and in the linked post. It's a little unfortunate that both say "support" because people always think it's the same when it really really isn't ☝🏼

I feel like you're mixing up autism levels and support needs still, because the first part of what you wrote (sensory issues, social stuff) is relevant for your level, but not for a support needs/care level assessment.

Maybe read the linked post and the support needs post (linked within the linked post) again but pay attention to the "Who determines if you're low, medium or high support needs (if you have support needs)?" post this time 🤔

Autism levels are given to you by professionals and not to be "guessed" - that's why I don't know what level I'd be considered (we don't have levels), and don't even further think about what level I'd be because I simply don't have a level. You can disagree with the level of course, but when talking about levels you then don't say "I'm level [guessed level]", but "I was diagnosed level [diagnosed level] but think I'm actually higher/lower".

Same goes for support needs. Not "I'm [guessed support needs]" but "I'm [assessed support needs]" or "I think I'm somewhat [guessed support needs]".

It's not a handy personality test self-categorization thing. It's something that's tested. By professionals. Only.

#anon ask #long post

11 notes · View notes

olivers-cocoapuffs · 1 year

Note

today's question, earlier than usual I know, very sorry-

I'm thinking of writing a fic (this is still very much up in air) surrounding the girls and the guys will simply be their pets (long story).

I want more suggestions for diversity, here's what we got so far

I'd like advice on anyone, if you've got any and also some extra stuff for poc rep (what I have is not actually listed there)

I'm trying to get all this down first before diving into their character types and personality-

so, care to lend a hand?

(stars, this is long. sorry)

My BPD ass is claiming Dorcas for us now <3

I would LOVE for Marlene to have Autism as well as ADHD because the two are sometimes paired together, and it’s such an interesting combination (as well as common)

They’re all really spot on (Bella with schizophrenia is such a great headcanon) and make a lot of sense

I think my main advice for you would to be look at random little side affects of each disability. Like people with ADHD will often struggle with eating because they forget to, then they eat to much to try and make up for it. And like with being HoH, how efficient is their hearing? Do they need aids? Can they use sign language?

Fun fact: Ambidextrous and Ace people can usually be linked to autism (not always, but they’re fairly common traits within that community) so you could explore that for Andy?

Just fun little things to think about while you’re planning and writing <3

I’d be more than happy to give you more advice along the way if you need it, don’t hesitate to ask (I love to talk about things I know stuff about so it would be benefitting us both)

Hope this helped some!!

5 notes · View notes

sweetandsavageautistic · 3 years

Text

(CW: Autism Martyr Parent, hell mention, self-harm mention)

So I was searching for if people’d go to hell for being autistic because I was going to a church fall festival (I asked the pastor if I’d go to hell for being autistic and he said no, so there’s that) and I came across this:

https://faithmummy.wordpress.com/2017/10/15/i-dont-want-to-be-an-autism-parent-anymore/

*big-ass inhale of frustration.*

Okay.....let’s take this in bits.

“*Preface: have you ever felt overwhelmed with life? I have. Of course I love my son with all my heart, I should never need to even justify that, but living with a child with severe autism is hard. I do not need threats made to my life or my child’s because I find some days hard. Comments like that will not be approved.

And for the record I don’t always feel like this but I am human and some days this is exactly how it is. *”

Okay, that’s understandable. You’re allowed to voice that it’s difficult. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. That’s valid. If the post continued like this, I’d be fine with it, but she calls herself an Autism Parent, so.....brace yourselves.

“The day started far too early. There was no sweet cuddles in bed or a little voice asking for a drink; no I was woken as usual by screaming. I have had day after day, month after month, year after year of being woken by screaming and I don’t want that anymore.“

That’s also valid, but at the same time, he’s trying to communicate with you. He’s trying to communicate his needs. He might not have any other method of communication, whether it’s the only way he knows how to communicate or that he lacks the proper tools to communicate.

“I don’t want to wake up to a smell that would make you want to vomit and bedding that is fit for the bin more than the washing machine, because yet again it is covered in something that ought not to be seen by anyone else. I am so tired of that now.“

That just is how it is sometimes. You gotta deal with that.

“I don’t want to sit on my couch in the middle of the night looking at my child and wondering what I did to have a child who sees no point in sleeping, who at 8 still can’t say ‘mama’ and who still thinks the world revolves around his needs only.”

This is where I get pissed. You’re basically saying that your son is a punishment for you. You’re calling him a burden. But it’s the last bit that boils my blood.

“who still thinks the world revolves around his needs only.”

This is where I say “Fuck. You.” You’re making him sound selfish. Us autistic people generally have trouble communicating our needs because neurotypicals don’t seem to fucking listen. You’re making it sound like he’s arrogant and a narcissist. If you’re looking for that, look in a fucking mirror.

“I love him more than words could ever convey but I don’t want to be an autism mum anymore.”

You love him and yet you just said you wonder what you did to have a child like him? That shit doesn’t add up.

“I want to be a mum who has fun with her child rather than doing therapy with them.

“I want to walk my son to school and talk to his friends instead of sending him in a taxi to a place where I am a stranger to them.

“I want to be able to talk to my child about the fact it is his birthday soon and discuss what he would like to do to mark that day.

“I want to be someone who takes my child to bowling, teaches them to ride a bike or even goes to the movies with them. Instead the only place I ever take him to is hospitals or respite.”

This one’s a double-edged sword. On one hand, yeah, your child having to miss out on those things sucks. On the other hand, the subtext is indicating that this is about YOU, not your child.

“I am tired of missing out on everything. I am tired of never having party invites, knowing nothing about his day at school, having to still dress him, having to take adult nappies and wipes with me wherever I go.“

No, you’re tired of not being able to live vicariously through him, as shown by you saying YOU are tired of missing out on everything.

“I don’t want to be an autism parent anymore.

“I am tired of holding my child as he screams in public again.

“I am tired of the never ending judgement, the stares and the horrid comments.

“I am am tired of carrying around my broken heart as a result of the interventions and therapies having achieved nothing.

“I simply can not bear the thought of my child as an adult knowing what society is like.

“I am tired of meetings.

“I am tired of phone calls from his school.

“I am tired of fighting for everything but then being accused as having an attitude or people thinking I act like I am entitled.”

Have you ever considered WHY he’s screaming in public? Have you ever considered that he’s trying to communicate or that he’s overwhelmed?

“I don’t want my child to have autism anymore. This is not a ‘different way of seeing the world’ that he has, or ‘a wonderful gift’. This is a child about to be 9 years old who can not say ‘mum’ or use a bathroom himself. This is a child almost my height who still can’t put his own clothes on, brush his own teeth or dry himself after a bath. This is a child who can never ever be left alone, who has to have everything the same all the time, who self harms and wanders. This is a child still with the mind of a toddler who will require others to look after him his entire life.“

EXCUSE ME? THE MIND OF A TODDLER? I don’t think he does. You said he needs to have everything the same all the time. He doesn’t have control over most of his life, so having that sense of stability and routine is likely comforting to him. I feel like in the back of his mind, he knows that. Also you can’t wish away his autism.

“Who would want that for their child?

“Who would want that as a parent?

“Today I don’t want to be an autism parent any more.

“The problem is I have no choice.”

MARTYR COMPLEX ALERT! MARTYR COMPLEX ALERT!

“So I strip that bed, bath that child, cook him that breakfast as I always do and let him sit on my knee while he rewinds the same ten seconds of video on you tube he did yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.“

Bath THAT child. “That child” has the same energy as “That thing.”

“Nothing changes much in my house, except my feelings.

“Today I am tired. I don’t want to be an autism parent today the same way any other parent may feel about not wanting to be the mum of a toddler who tantrums daily or a baby who has reflux or the partner to someone with Alzheimer’s. We all have days when we are just down about the life we have.”

Um, no. You don’t want to be an autism parent because it’s hard on you. You’re not thinking about your son. If you don’t want to be around someone because you only focus on how their disability makes things difficult for you and not taking their struggles into consideration, they deserve better.

“Yet we carry on. We dust ourselves down, search for some positives or listen to some music.

“Tomorrow is a new day. It will probably start off with screaming again too., but maybe tomorrow I will be stronger, more hopeful, more upbeat.

“Maybe tomorrow I will want to be the autism parent I need to be.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

So you just spent 90% of the blog post crying about how hard your life is because you see your child as a burden, and then you say “we carry on”? Are you for real?

This blog post is disgusting. It has one and a half valid points: the preface and that double-edged sword I mention. But that only makes up like 10% of the whole post. The other 90% is them creating a sob story to get pity and sympathy. They’re making themself out to be a victim.

Here’s a hot take: if you’re not willing to love your child because of something out of their control, like a disability or their sexual orientation or their gender identity, you shouldn’t become a parent. You can’t go into parenthood expecting the ideal family life. You can feel frustrated about the obstacles you face. That’s valid. But DO NOT demonize your child and/or make them out to be a burden.

#autism parent #autism martyr parent alert #autism #autistic #actually autistic #actuallyautistic #sweet and savage autistic

20 notes · View notes

writingandmore · 3 years

Note

Hello there! May I please get a Bungou Stray Dogs, Obey Me, Into The Spider-verse, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, and Monster Prom matchup? I’m an ENFJ-T, Leo, 2w3, demifemale who’s bisexual with male preference. Personality wise, I’m very kind, funny, friendly, intelligent, and honest. It’s easy for me to connect with people from various backgrounds even if they’re different from my background. Not a lot of people can connect with me on an deep level though. However, those that want to really know me, I do stick with them and I’m loyal for life. I can be stubborn though, and at times I’m melodramatic, emotional, critical of others, over sensitive (especially to criticism), and perfectionistic. Sometimes I have a really hard time verbally communicating with people because of my neurodivergent tendencies (adhd and autism) so I often get more frustrated and impatient too. I’m really hard on myself sometimes, a lot more than the average person, and it usually gets worse when people treat me badly due to past childhood trauma. I have anxiety and depression too, but I’m slowly learning to accept my multiple disabilities as a part of me instead of who I am. I’m pretty good with using both my head and my heart when I’m making a decision. You could say I’m an emotional thinker. I also try hard to be more kinder to myself when needed. I take alternative medications, sleep in on occasion, eat my favorite food, and sometimes take a warm bubble bath to really help with self love. I also try to implement healthy boundaries when I want something like occasional solitude or I speak up when someone takes advantage of me. I’m all about self improvement, and I hope I keep progressing along as a better person. 💖

Hobby wise, I’m very much into the traditional and performing arts. I love to draw, paint, dance, cook and bake, play guitar, and sing. Lots of people say I have a powerful and emotional singing voice, and I often bring people to tears from it. I’m also really into researching specific topics on the internet related to my special interests. Put me in a trivia game, and I’ll bet you I can really blow you away with how much I know too! 😉 I love exercising and doing various workouts that include building my strength and increasing flexibility. I especially love yoga, tai chi, and meditation. I love animals, and animals in a sense (mostly cats and dogs) love me since they easily gravitate towards me and let me pet them. Finally I can say I’m a pink, pastel loving, magical girl item collecting enthusiast! I collect tons of cute Sailor Moon merchandise, but use it for practical purposes such as stationary or umbrellas. 💕

I think that’s all I can say about myself. If you decide to do this matchup I’d be really grateful for that. Honestly you sound like such a genuine person and I’m glad I came to your inbox. Have a great day! 😁👍💕💖💞💗

BSD: Atsushi!

- Atsushi would enjoy your kind and friendly nature. He attaches to people who he perceives as kind more quickly than others. It's also great that you can connect with people who have different backgrounds- Atsushi's childhood is certainly not something that most people can claim they've also been through, so your empathy and understanding would mean a lot to him. He's also quite loyal, and very determined, so he would try his best to continue to get to know you even if you're a bit closed off.

OM: Beel!

- Beel is also extremely loyal to those he loves, even when he disproves and is ashamed of their actions, he would never abandon them. Your own loyal tendencies would mean a lot to him, as that's such a big part of what's important to him. He's also patient (unless food is involved) and kind, so he'd be so sweet to you when you're having trouble communicating and would do everything he could to make it easier for you-he'd also rarely ever get upset with you in most situations.

SV: Peter B.!

- Peter also struggled quite a bit with his own bouts of depression and anxiety over his loved ones getting harmed due to him, so he'd be very understanding of your own struggles. You two could get stronger together as you lean on each other for support sometimes! He'd also respect your logical yet still emotional way of thinking as well-sometimes he gets way too into his own head to make rational decisions.

JJBA: Bruno!

- Your attempts at self-care would make Bruno really happy, and he'd love to help you do so if you needed it. Taking care of his partner is one of his favorite things to do, and it honestly relaxes him quite a bit. He'd also be extremely respectful about your personal boundaries-he's mature, and if he was feeling upset about anything, he'd be sure to have an open discussion about it. He'd be perfectly content with the way that you are already if he's your partner, but he'd certainly encourage self-improvement if it isn't because of unhealthy insecurity. He's also quite interested in theater and would be happy to take you with him.

MP: Liam!

- Liam prides himself on his creativity, so a partner like you that wears so many hats would really interest him-though it'd be a bit hard to tell at first. You'd often catch him behind the curtains if you're practicing your singing-it'd be hard for him to stay away from listening to it. Your intelligence, even if it's applied to things like trivia, would attract him as well.

#bsd matchup #atsushi nakajima #obey me matchup #beelzebub obey me #spider-verse matchup #peter b parker #jjba matchup #bruno buccerati #monster prom matchup #liam de lioncourt

8 notes · View notes

taikanyohou · 3 years

Note

Hey faiza I hope you dont mind sharing, but if you do you can ignore this ask, I wouldnt mind.

I have a younger sister who's recently diagnosed with autistism and I've tried to do research regarding it but I still feel helpless and that somehow I'll mess up. She's still growing and I want her to call home a safe place cause she has trouble with the outside world since there isnt a lot of awareness about autism here. Can you please guide me a bit? How you guys handle stuff at home? Any reading material that helped you. Thank you

hiiii anon!!! that's fine! honestly it was hard. bc my brother is the only boy from us all, and we're 4 siblings. there's me as the eldest, then my sister, then my brother and then my youngest sister. so at first, my parents just thought that bc was my brother was the only boy, that he might be developing a lot slower than me and my sister did as girls, but that eventually at the age of 2 or 3, he'd catch up. he didnt.

and my mum was the first one to sorta catch on that something didnt feel right. so after the health visitor inspected my brother and he got assessed, my brother got diagnosed with autism at the age of 3. my dad was a little reluctant at first to accept it, bc no one in my family history (either from my mum or dad's side) have autism or any type of special educational needs or disabilities, so my parents didnt really Know how to handle this all. but then my dad, after some time, came round.

and its not easy at all. it still isnt even though he's 23 now. but we've had a lot of support from different professionals, who are a whole team that have stuck with my brother at various points in his life, like his speech and language therapist or his educational psychologist or his medical staff or his teachers or his social worker etc. so they've always supported us and given us guidance and sent my parents to various courses - like triple p, something i hiiiiiiighly recommend. as a teacher, i also look into team teach, but i'd recommend even that too tbh, as a way to help and learn about de-escalation, and how you can positively help your sister in her education and broader sense of learning. another thing we also use is PECS - its honestly v v v useful for most children with autism as it helps them visualise their routine/timetable for the day/planned activities, but it also helps in allowing them to express what or how they feel, like hunger or fatigue, and helps them communicate their needs to you, if you help them understand what the visual cards represent.

for my brother, we've always had him have his own bedroom, and thats his private space to cool off and calm down that we rarely go in. my brother's non verbal, so he really has struggled with communication. we know a bit of BSL (sign language) and that helped when he was a kid, but as he grew, his school and his teachers slowly got him to begin speaking. he now only speaks in 3 or 4 word strings, not full sentences, but its a huge development!

my brother's really into disney, so he has a collection of disney books and films in his bedroom. what i'm saying is that get the time to explore what your sister's interests and hobbies are, and make her safe space one that holds her interests to help her feel secure. my brother isnt very into sensory textured things, so food isn't a huge issue with him, but for your sister, explore what textures she likes and what she doesnt. we dont ever force my brother into something he doesnt want to do, and sometimes that can mean cancelling plans last minute as a whole family too, which can be quite upsetting. so sometimes what helps is telling my brother well in advance that we're planning to do xyz on such a day, so that on that day, he isnt overcome with anxiety, bc most children with autism need a set routine, and if that gets disrupted, then they will behave anxiously. so now, when we have to go to a wedding or go out to eat, we tell my brother a week or so in advance, and he's okay with that.

but also, build some independence and decision making in them! let them choose what clothes they want to wear, what food they want to eat, whether they want to do english or maths today etc. sometimes things can become overwhelming and they do hit or bite or pinch or throw things. thats the moment where you just say a firm No and step away. let them cool off, and that will give you a chance to cool off too.

and always make sure YOU are okay too. if it gets too much, speak to your family. make sure different people are with your sister, because it can be physically difficult and mentally emotional. if you want to rest one day and have that day for yourself, tell someone in your family in advance and have some me time, and that will give a different family member a chance to spend time with your sister. that will help your sister build more relationships too! some days, my brother doesnt even wanna see my face, and thats ok! he spends that day with my other sisters or my parents or he'll go out with my cousin or sometimes, just by himself, bc they need that too.

and if you just tell someone, if you are going out somewhere, that you have a family member that has autism, you'll be surprised with how accommodating people are, and that helps so so much as opposed to not telling and then you'll get stressed and anxious too. like, sometimes, crowds and big spaces stress my brother out, even now, for example at a wedding we recently went to. but we told the person who invited us about my brother, and they said its absolutely no problem whatsoever if my brother needs to step out for a bit to get some fresh air or if he needs to be fed first etc. and in the same vein, i'd say to keep your conversations with you and your sister's "team" (her school teachers etc) ongoing, so that everyone is on the same page. for example, if you were to go on holiday or implement a new habit or try something new with your sister, if your sister's whole "team" knows about this, then you are all on the same page, and will help build that new change for your sister.

its honestly a learning experience that will never end, if i were to be honest. and some days its so .... hard. and other days its the most heartwarming thing you'll ever experience. make sure you take care of yourself, including speaking to someone if gets too much, so you can take care of your sister. and soon enough you yourself with just ... develop a sixth sense for who and what your sister wants or doesnt want and who or what she does or doesnt need.

🧡

#faiza answers #sorry this is super long but i hope it helps! 🧡

7 notes · View notes

autisticchicc · 3 years

Text

Unstructured Autism Rant

A/N: For COVID reasons, mask is purely metaphorical in this piece, not an actual face mask, the work scenario was something that happened pre-COVID.

Trigger Warnings: In-depth descriptions of autism-related struggles and meltdowns.

Disclaimer: This is my personal experience with autism, that is not to say that this is the experience of every person with ASD.

“Have I solved your issue today?” I ask the customer on the other end of the phone. I have; I don’t know why I’m asking this. The customer confirms I have, and I wish them goodbye, a good day, and thank you for calling the business. I don’t care if they have a good day, and I why on earth would I thank them for calling us? The entire interaction went on for far too long for my liking thanks to small talk and the customer pushing pointless information about themselves onto me. He told me he was sketching by the riverside, but why do I need to know about that? How do I respond to a piece of information that does nothing to or for me? Upon hanging up, I breathe a sigh of relief. The mask slips off my face slightly as I rub my temples.

The relief is short-lived, as one of my co-workers comes over to my desk to talk about something. I take a deep breath and pull the mask back on properly before forcing myself to engage enthusiastically in this conversation. I don’t know this co-worker that well, I know nothing about how she talks, her personality, or her humour, only that I have a huge margin for error in this conversation. I concentrate intensely, trying desperately to make sense of her rapidly changing facial expressions and knowing when it’s my turn to talk. After interjecting at the wrong time on several occasions, I give up and just respond meekly when there’s an obvious gap. I feel embarrassed and awkward, and when she walks away, I kick myself. Why is it so hard to have a simple conversation? I’ve yet to make any friends at this job, and I don’t think I ever will at this rate.

I swivel back to face my two screens and lament the lack of a blue light filter on this software. My eyes ache, and the dog (yeah, don’t ask) on the upper level of the open plan office keeps barking. The occasional trilling of a phone irritates me more than usual as the late afternoon sun glares through the floor to ceiling windows at my photosensitive eyes. I can’t close the blinds because my co-workers love the sun, but I’m rapidly approaching a meltdown thanks to overstimulation, exhaustion, and following vague instructions all day. It feels as though every piece of sensory stimuli is stabbing at my eyes and ears. At the end of my shift I clock out and leave without saying goodbye to anyone. I don’t know them well enough to feel comfortable going out of my way to say anything in the first place.

Upon exiting the building, I cover my ears with my big headphones, the relief that washes over me is immense. All those invasive sounds are gone now, and I can listen to whatever I want. I still feel on edge, still teetering close to a meltdown, so I choose not to worsen it by listening to something that would fuel my anger. Sometimes it’s necessary, sometimes I desperately need to hear the pained screams of Pete Steele, the aggressive guitars and lyrics of Body Count. But today, I need something that isn’t going to give me the encouragement to punch the first person that triggers my rage.

For me, music is transformative and transportive. When I listen to particular songs with noise-cancelling headphones, it’s allows me to go somewhere in my imagination while my body moves to my real destination on autopilot. I decide on an uplifting song by The Knocks and Big Boi, Big Bills. It’s a song that makes me feel like a character in a movie that has just moved to a new city and is pursuing an exciting new life. To an extent that’s sort of true for me, minus the excitement and plot armour. Either way, it’s an uplifting song for me. So much so in fact, that I listen to it on repeat all the way home. If something interrupts the song, like an announcement on the tube or having to pause it, I have to restart it or it’s not the same.

When I eventually arrive home, the transformation happens. The moment my bedroom door closes, and I turn my headphones off, it begins. The outcome of this transformation can be vastly different depending on how my day went. It might be that it was a successful day socially, so I leave my phone out of sight and silently bury myself in a hobby for hours in order to recharge. It might be that the mask comes off and I begin to scream and sob, breaking anything I can to stop myself from self-injuring, burying the heels of my hands into my eyes to block any light. The transformation varies, but it is always the result of the same thing: suppressing who I am.

Much of being autistic and being forced to operate in a society catered to neurotypical people, for me, is suppressing my natural instincts and behaviour. Even when I have a positive day socially, it’s often contingent on how well I assimilated with other neurotypical people in that particular interaction. This is frustrating because not only am I exhausted because hardly anyone accommodates for me, I am also measuring the success of my day on other peoples’ standards. Many of my interpersonal relationships also operated that way until fairly recently, I was forced to behave and communicate the way that other people expected me to rather than what felt natural to me. There is only so many places and so much time I can maintain this act for, and so I was forced to simply cut those friendships off. I am no longer willing to negotiate my needs with people that clearly don’t like me enough to respect my disorder.

The friends I keep are mindful, lovers of the eccentric, embracing that which is different and persecuted for it. Often times I find that the people closest to me also have parts of their identity that mean they must also wear a mask of sorts when moving through society, be it racist society, patriarchal society, or queerphobic society. Our arms interlink on the fringes of an abstract hierarchy, turning away from the status quo and pursuing a life in truth and diversity. One day I’d love for everyone to be able to live authentically, for discrimination, isms and phobias to fade away into the past. I don’t see it happening in my lifetime, or perhaps ever, but I hope it does eventually.

In an ideal world, I would only interact with those aforementioned friends and no one else, but as we’ve established, that is not the world we live in. The reality is, I almost never get to interact with people who accommodate for me. I deal with people touching me without permission which makes my skin crawl, forcing me to take my headphones off when I’m fending off a meltdown, managers who don’t give me the specific step-by-step instructions I need, classmates who don’t understand that I don’t talk because I’m too shy, not because I’m unfriendly, lecturers that forget I can’t operate well in group work and can’t be in classrooms with harsh, fluorescent lights… The list is endless. Even going to the shop is a struggle, because the employees have no way to know. Although Tesco’s have been considerate and ‘progressive’* enough to introduce sunflower lanyards (https://www.tesco.com/help/invisibledisability/), most stores have absolutely no assistance in place for customers with hidden disabilities. I just have to hope that they don’t speak to me and that I don’t end up getting overwhelmed and having to ask anyone for help.

In a lot of ways, this pandemic has meant that I can avoid quite a lot of the scenarios that would usually cause me stress. I no longer work (admittedly, this causes more stress than it relieves), I don’t have to attend class in person, there is little to no in-person socialising, family events are cancelled, seasonal holidays are cancelled, queuing and crowding is no longer allowed (without distancing), etc. That has all been excellent and a relief. But on the flip side, it has given rise to a whole host of new problems. I hate being on camera or speaking in online lessons, there is no way for me to remind the teacher subtly I can’t do group work, masks trigger heat-related meltdowns for me, the financial instability of being unemployed has been a huge stressor, and the lack of government support is utterly enraging.

Overall, it’s been a huge adjustment. The job that I talked about my experience with at the beginning of this rant is long gone now, so many things have changed. I have never dealt well with change, but this year has forced me to. In some ways I suppose you could say this is a positive development, exposure therapy is best at times. I just wish it had been more on my terms and not at the hands of a viral pandemic.

#autism #asd #meltdown #sensory overload #aspergers #autism spectrum disorder #aspie #aspiegirl #women with autism #autism at work #autism at school #school #university #autistic enby #covid #covid19

17 notes · View notes

scarluxia · 3 years

Text

Let's talk about some Adventures I had in Phoenix, AZ in 2015. It came up in my FB Memories and even though I determined to let everything from last decade go, this one still rankles. I got "in trouble" with these people for being open about my experiences on my Facebook because, even though I hadn't mentioned names, they didn't like me "putting their business out there".

CW for ableism, depression, rejection sensitive dysphoria, and I'll try to put all that in the tags.

My partner, Loki (yes real name), and I had been urban camping in Portland, OR for about a month. It had gotten cold and rainy to the point where we couldn't safely stay living outdoors, and Loki's father (who didn't approve of me) had demanded he come back to California and live with Loki's uncle. He made it quite clear I was not welcome, so I ended up going to Arizona because I had a friend who was willing to put me up. She and I had known each other since 2008 and I figured I would be safe with her. At the time, Loki was much more easily influenced by what his family wanted, and we ended up having kind of a nasty set of conversations over whether he was abandoning me.

While in Portland, my wallet had been stolen so I had no ID or SS card. I had reported it stolen of course, but had received no response until I was leaving Arizona.

My friend in Arizona had two young sons, a husband, and a boyfriend. Now, I have some sensory issues that make it so I have a hard time being around children. High pitched noises hurt me to my bones, like, even now I have to leave the room if my son gets overly excited and starts shrieking.

I was sleeping on the couch in the living room, which was where the kids would go when they woke up and where the TVs and entertainment consoles were.

Anyway, they wanted me to contribute to the household and whatnot but I was severely depressed and I think I've provided all the context I can remember? If the rest of this doesn't make sense, please know that there was a part 1 but it came up in my Memories on a different day and i didn't think I would be rehashing it.

So I couldn't do work, couldn't do anything anyone had asked me to do to satisfaction because various things that did not, in fact, depend on me. Maybe I wasn't being enough of a ~team player~, I don't know. But anyway, I did my best with what I had. Sometimes, because of THE EXTREME FUCKING SENSORY ISSUES THAT COME WITH AUTISM, I would get overwhelmed by the kids screaming. Two little boys, barely school age, and their parents sat them in front of a TV and gave them controllers. That's it. They had toys in their room, sure, but they weren't getting outside. I suggested taking them out a couple times, but firstly, I didn't know the area and wasn't about to go out alone, and secondly, I can't split in half and I'm not in good shape, so even if I had known the area, I wouldn't have taken TWO small children outside to run around where they could run out of the designated area. I'm kind of anal that way, I guess. But Woman A (mum) and Man B ("uncle") never got off their arses to help me take them outside, and Man A was at work.

Oh, yes, parental interaction with the kids. Woman A loved her sons very much. But at their age (3 and 5), they both should have been toilet trained. They should have gotten at least two hours outside every day. They threw fits when they weren't allowed to play video games because, instead of games being a special treat that was earned with good behavior, they were toys carelessly tossed at the kids to keep them out of everyone's hair. Conversely, and bizarrely, reading to them WAS a special treat. The father woke up, played games, basically brushed off his kids, and went to work. Same when he got home for lunch, and he *ordered* us to have them in bed by the time he got home for good. The mum did somewhat interact with them, but mostly just wanted them out of her hair. I wasn't so nice because I'm not good with kids in general and also loud screeching HURTS, IT HURTS IT HURTS MAKE IT STOP. (Same with snoring, or any noise made when I want to sleep.) This isn't me being a ~diva~, it is an actual manifestation of a mental disability.

Woman A was of the opinion that "everyone who lives in a house with kids automatically becomes a coparent", maybe because she wasn't willing to actually parent her kids herself.

Note from the future: I still disagree with the idea that "anyone who lives in a house with kids is automatically a co-parent". Parent your own kids. I don't expect my dad to parent my son when we go visit him and he made it quite clear when I was pregnant that he would not take on a co-parenting role (because his wives 30-50 years ago had handled the babies and he doesn't really know how to calm them down beyond entertaining them)

She got a really bitchy look on her face whenever I (who have been around children, especially TROUBLED children, all my life) made any sort of suggestion. Well sorry, lady, but it's not like you're doing such a great job with them. Y'all act like you barely want anything to do with them. Like they're cute and little and fun to snuggle, but actually teaching them anything? Forget about it, just toss em a controller and hope they don't kill each other in the game or real life. Meanwhile, they have no outlet for their natural physical energy, no real outlet for their curiosity. They're going to grow up stupid and sedentary, with "no one paid attention to me during childhood except when it was convenient for THEM" to deal with. The older kid recently got on meds for a condition that, from what I observed, was likely much more nurture than nature. And what everyone ate, my God, those kids were the only non-overweight people in the house, and it's little wonder! I bought ACTUAL NUTRITIONAL food for everyone, and the adults look at me like I'm from some demon dimension. I made a light comment about how I'd never eaten anything like what they had growing up. You know, boxed potatoes, veggies out of a can, white bread, sugary peanut butter. And Woman A was like, "well YOU don't have kids."

Um, no, but my father did.

I have a kid now, am working part time at min. wage because my boss sees my performance as so-so (plus she's been forced to give me a raise every time the County of Where I Live raises the minimum), in a single-income household, on as much Family With Kids welfare as My County will allow, and I still wouldn't feed my kid that crap LOL

Spoiler alert: they made me use all my food stamps on their household and then kicked me out later that month so... When I bought food I bought HEALTHY food, like, I've been on food stamps my entire life... Also, WIC specifically pays for WHEAT bread, fruits & veggies, and they do let you get peanut butter without sugar so idk what was going on there with them.

My father was a SINGLE PARENT raising a daughter in America after 20 years of living in Europe and raising kids with his previous wives. Well, up until the divorces, anyway. I was the only kid he ever got to keep. He told me things about how the others had been raised compared to how I was raised, and I saw the outcomes of different parenting styles in my peers as well. My father was a very poor man whose trade had been outsourced and who struggled to support us for years. And yet, we never went hungry, and he never fed me boxed potatoes. Never fed me sugary peanut butter, white bread, or veggies out of a can.

Ok I understand canned veggies are better than no veggies, and not everyone can get fresh, but you CAN get frozen in AZ. I always had fresh or frozen growing up.

It wasn't because we were living in the lap of luxury. It's because...

HE FUCKING VALUED OUR HEALTH OVER CONVENIENT, CRAPPY, NUTRIENT-FREE FOOD!!!! This is not a difficult concept. He ALSO read to me every night, despite having what I now realise was a very grueling day at work just to put said healthy food on the table. I didn't get to watch TV or play computer games (edu-tainment, the only kind I was allowed) until after all my homework was done. I can't remember if I was a particularly active child, but I'm sure I had the OPTION!!!! TO GO OUT.

Meanwhile, when I was at various stages of my life, I met kids whose parents shunted them from guardian to guardian because they didn't want to deal with them, kids whose parents were kind and supportive but rubbish at enforcing discipline, kids whose parents were abusive in every kind of way, and kids whose parents did their best.

You know, I wasn't raised perfectly. My upbringing lacked social grace and included some toxic ideas about womanhood that I've only been learning to overcome recently in my adulthood. But DON'T FUCKING ACT LIKE I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT RAISING KIDS JUST BECAUSE I DON'T CURRENTLY HAVE ANY. I have my own life, the lives of my peers, and a wonderful online community of new parents raising children in kind and socially aware ways, to draw inspiration from. I can go to any one of them, and to my own parents, and ask "hey does X seem weird to you?" And they'll give me their honest opinion, which *is valuable*. I have even mapped out a general idea of how to get through some parts of my children's lives, and I'm not even planning to have kids for at least another few years. I mean, honestly, it used to be "I don't want kids ever", but dear gosh, if I can have any part of raising someone in a manner that defies procrastination culture, entitlement culture, and everything wrong with the way my husband and I were raised, maybe it wouldn't be a complete horror. If I can ensure that not all hope for the next generation is lost, hey.

Anyway, I've gone off topic...

I also had some issues with the men. Man B just didn't seem to like anything ever. I had no idea what Woman A saw in him. I remember one time he tried to tell me, a Christian, that I can't tell people what a "real Christian" is because it ~invalidates their identity~. Excuse me, no. It doesn't work that way. There are things that Christ taught, and anyone who blatantly goes against them IN THE NAME OF CHRISTIANITY, IS NOT A REAL CHRISTIAN. And yes, I realise this entire rant has been very judgey and technically I'm not supposed to do that either, but it's not like I'm saying they're going to Hell. Just that their kids are going to be sluggish and stupid, and I can't understand how these people have the gumption to try to lecture anyone else about life when they're not even TRYING to get their own lives together.

Yeah so they tried to lecture me about how I was "letting" Loki mistreat me and how I cared more about "socializing" with my estranged husband (I have separation anxiety) than helping around the house e_e They also implied I used depression as an excuse to be lazy.

Man B was supposedly "super employable." Well, okay, even though his "job hunt" seemed to consist more of sitting around playing video games, he was larger than my father (who is 6 ft tall with a protruding gut and weighs 240 lbs at last count) (My father and I are both 60 lbs above our ideal weights. But we're working on it!), and never seemed to get past the phone-screening process.

Now, Woman A told me that Man B was looking for work and that her family and some friends looked down on him for being a freeloader. Probably because she was anxious about me thinking the same. But here's the thing: I wouldn't have cared. Honestly. If you want to sit around playing games all day in your married girlfriend's apartment with her and her husband playing video games all day, go right ahead. If you want to bake three potatoes at a time and take them back to your room for a snack, hey, more power to you. But don't piss out the window and call it rain.

I don't care how employable you are, where you live, who you're living with, or what your lifestyle is like. It doesn't affect me in any way. But don't act like you're doing something you're not just to appease someone's judgmental family. That doesn't ever end well.

Now, see, I clearly have a problem with people who do that. I don't hide many aspects of myself, though I will refuse to answer a question if I feel it's none of someone's business or if they're just asking it to be a judgmental asshole. I refuse to compromise myself or my safe space to accommodate someone who can't make peace with who they are. Hell, you know me! You know my show!

Wait, this is Tumblr, so you might not know my show. It's a YouTube storyboard dedicated to processing and mocking some spiritual and psychological abuse I've undergone in my life. On Facebook, it was one of the things I was known for at the time because I was constantly posting clips and art, and trying to recruit voice actors.

I sell anyone out who I catch lying to me about anything! That's nothing new! And these people knew that about me. For SEVEN. FUCKING. YEARS.

So anyway. Woman A has a lot of great short term goals but no actual follow through because "I'm just not in the mood right now." No judgment there. I've totally been there. The only problem is when it gets ME in trouble.

"Let's walk the dog." "I'm not in the mood." Okay, then the dog doesn't get walked because I can't figure out my way around the place alone.

"Let's do the dishes." Woman A doesn't let me know when the washer stopped. Okay. Then the rest of the dishes don't get washed.

"Let's take the kids outside." "No I'm too tired." Okay, then they're going to be RUNNING AROUND THE APARTMENT SCREAMING WHICH MY EARS CANNOT FUCKING HANDLE so bye I'm just gonna borrow your room and isolate myself for a bit.

"Let's go to the gym!" "Maybe later." But later never comes.

Do you see where I'm going here? As for the men, they BOTH complain that they're "doing too much" around the house. Okay, probably fair for Man A, who works full time and deserves to come home to a clean house. But Man B. Wtf. You literally do nothing, except when you do, and when you do, we're meant to throw you a parade? That's not how adulthood works, or so I've heard.

Note: All three of these people are older than me. I was 24? at the time, fresh out of trade school, on my own for the first time in my life. (Maybe 2nd? I ran away when I was 17 but ended up with my grandparents so idk if that counts.) Woman A was 26 at the time and had been married since 2008, had experience with office work and parenthood, etc. Both men were older than her. I was a chronological adult with the life experience of a teenager, so I felt comfortable saying that.

So did I mention that I'm sleeping in the living room during this stay? And the adults don't go to bed until like 2 AM, which means, because of my disability, wherein I cannot sleep if there's any sort of non-ambient noise, *I* don't get to sleep until AFTER 2 AM. And the kids? They come in the living room screaming at 6 AM. Yep. Okay. Living on 4 hours of sleep, for the mathematically challenged. That and dealing with the emotional turmoil of being separated from my husband when I've got high separation anxiety in the first place. All my pain, everything, it's up to 11. and I'm supposed to contribute but there's not really anything that allows me to contribute.

So what do they do? They ambush me. Call a "family meeting" to tell me absolutely everything that's wrong with me, after WEEKS of telling me what a big help I am and how grateful they are to have me around. Tell me I'm letting my "social life" get in the way of me helping around the house. Hmm. Social life. You mean, VENTING IN MY SAFE SPACE (Facebook, no names named) AND TRYING TO MEND THINGS WITH MY HUSBAND??????????????? Okay. Well since you guys treat your woman like shit, you clearly don't understand or appreciate devotion to one's spouse. Seriously. Woman A told me she used to have extreme separation anxiety with Man A, and that he would brush off her emotions as irrelevant. Her solution was to make it a poly relationship and take a lover WHO TREATS HER THE EXACT SAME WAY. I'm serious. She got no emotional support from either of them. They basically just threw pills at her and trained her to lie down until her feelings went away.

And she had the gall to lecture me (24 at the time) about how Loki (19 at the time & from a pretty horrific family) treated me. LOL ok. Log. Splinter.

As she knew, I'm monogamous. I do have some opinions on polyamoury based on individuals I've gotten to know who are in those types of relationships, but those opinions are irrelevant to this series of rants. Except one, which is pertinent: if you're going to take another lover, they should provide something that your existing lover(s) don't. If you're suffering from low emotional support and you just find someone else who doesn't emotionally support you and who treats you like a child who can't be trusted??? What are you even DOING? Like, she told me NEITHER of her men trust her judgment. What the fuck is a relationship without trust? And don't even try "dick too bomb" as an excuse when you tell me you haven't gotten laid in months and your husband is using your condoms on Woman B.

They don't support you. They don't trust you. And yet YOU'RE telling ME that things with my husband won't get better unless I follow your lead and take another lover? HELL TO THE NO. My husband has his faults, but if I tell him Person X can be trusted, he believes me.

Except for his ex-girlfriend whom he tried to add to our relationship when he tried to be poly, months later. That went Badly.

Or maybe he just knows I'll deal with them myself, with my hot, hot temper, if they turn out not to be trustworthy. He also doesn't treat me LIKE A CHILD. And while I sometimes point at things and make small motions when I can't physically talk, or sometimes even use baby talk when I'm feeling cutesy, I DON'T POINT AT A PIECE OF PAPER AND GO "THE CARRRRRR!!!!" IN AN INCREASINGLY HIGHER PITCH BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SAY, "Honey, I think we missed the car payment this month. Can you double check while the agent has you on hold, please?"

Okay, being a dick about losing words due to stress was not my finest moment, but at the time, I was just so appalled by how they treated her and how she allowed them to treat me.

So basically these adults who are nowhere near having their lives together, and aren't even really trying, put me on blast for not having everything running perfectly when THEY expected it to.

Let's reiterate. I couldn't get a job because I had no ID or social security card. I was waiting for them to be returned to me. I couldn't walk the kids or the dog, go to the gym, or complete all the household chores because no one would guide me. I need that guidance because of various components of my disability, which I really hate admitting to because I'm super fucking prideful, but I figured hey, she's not neurotypical either. These people will understand.

Their response when I brought this up? "You're an adult. You should know better." Sure, okay. But you should know that a child ought to be potty trained before he turns 5, or even 3; that kids need to run around, are entitled to their parents' attention and consistent discipline, and need!!! healthy!!!! food!!!!

Oh, discipline! So, she would send Older Boy to his room over misbehaving. But rather than enforce time-out, she'd go, "oh, I think I'm being too haaaard on him," and just... Relinquish. He's not about to learn anything that way, ma'am.

They called me trying to reconnect with the person I love more than almost anyone on this earth "obsessing over your social life". Well again, you treat your woman like shit, so MAYBE my undying devotion to the person I love goes a LITTLE bit over your head.

They told me that the household should be my first priority. Except no, because I am an autonomous person and my FIRST PRIORITY is, was, and ever has been the love of my life, whomever that may be at the time. That is 70% of my personality. I'm pretty sure anyone who had ever met me can vouch for my extreme devotion, and this woman had known me for SEVEN. YEARS. I'm not going to throw away 70% of myself to do an impossible task that no one will help me with.

They told me a lot of things I wasn't doing right, and for those of you who also struggle with anxiety and depression, you know that being told for weeks that everything is okay and you're so great and so helpful, and then being told that you're rubbish at everything... You know that that is hurtful. Devastating, even. I wanted to kill myself. I said that. I said that and expressed my feelings about some other things, in my safe space, without naming any names.

And even though I was posting in my safe space, I was polite about it. I was as gentle and rational as possible. I wasn't calling anyone out. Not like I am now. I wasn't trying to lead a witch hunt. I was just overwhelmed and trying to express my feelings. Trying to get myself not to kill myself. I had to tell myself over and over again that it's not what Loki would want for me.

In the morning, they woke me up and kicked me out. Said it was rude for me to say I don't care about their household. I never, NEVER said that. I said "Loki is my first priority." Something along the lines of "that's just how I am and I shouldn't be vilified for it." That doesn't mean I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE. IT JUST MEANS THAT MY PRIORITIES WILL *NEVER* BE WHAT SOMEONE ELSE WANTS THEM TO BE. I AM A PERSON. I HAVE THE RIGHT TO DECIDE WHAT TO PRIORITISE, AND I HAVE THE RIGHT TO LOVE MY HUSBAND!!!

I MEAN, FOR FUCK'S SAKE. MY NAME IS *SIGYN*. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU IGNORANT ASSHOLES EXPECT?! WHY THE HELL SHOULD YOU HAVE FELT THREATENED BY ME SAYING ANYTHING IF I DIDN'T NAME NAMES AND WAS ACTUALLY RATIONAL? IF YOU SAW THIS, *MAYBE* YOU WOULD HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE PISSY, BUT NOT THEN!

They kicked me out after having asked me to buy them all food. I had used up all my food stamps. Because I hadn't anticipated this at all. I hadn't known they would take such offence to my existence, to my ways. To the fact that I value the man I married more than I value... Whatever they wanted me to value, I guess.

Fun fact: I ended up in a women's shelter after this, and one woman told me to actually kill myself because she was tired of hearing me cry at night.

They said I hadn't made any effort to get my life on track. Because I can just snap my fingers and make my ID appear. Because I can just manifest the money for a replacement. They said all these things that left me almost unable to breathe, in retaliation for me posting that I was suicidal.

Later, Woman A told me that this had been a long time coming and that they were trying to make room for Woman B and Woman C, both of whom were willing to have sex with the men, which is something that I would not. I feel the first woman I met at the shelter was accurate when she said they basically kicked me out because I wouldn't sleep with them.

I also later found out that my ID and SS card had been returned to sender. The Portland PD called me and told me. So my father came to the conclusion that the people I had been staying with sabotaged me from the start. For a while, I didn't feel it, but last night I dreamed about it, and the dream made me angry. I didn't deserve to be treated that way. And I really had to get all this off my chest, so for those of you who didn't immediately whip out your tiny violins, thank you.

#ableism #depression #rejection sensitive dysphoria #sensory sensitivity #child neglect #child abuse #resource insecurity?#i forgot about the part where someone tried to mansplain Christian gatekeeping to me #emotional abuse #polyamory but make it toxic #suicidal ideation

3 notes · View notes

aroworlds · 5 years

Text

I just want to let you all know that my health still isn’t good: I spent awareness week struggling with insomnia (not to mention before and now after) and trying to cope with making content for it while operating on almost no sleep just about broke me. I’m glad I did it, but I’ve spent this week trying to recover from it, and I struggle to find the energy needed to talk to people when I’m that worn out.

Right now, I’m trying to figure out more about transition options and support as a queer, transgender person, since it’s been made clear to me that my current environment is not ever going to be truly supportive. This week I had a really good conversation with my GP so my new pronouns are as officially on the system as they can be (with a system that doesn’t really support it, but at least referrals will correctly refer to me) and a conversation about my queerness that was summed up as “sexual attraction irrespective of gender, romantic attraction to nobody, no gender”. It’s not completely accurate because you all know I’m abrosexual, but given that I mostly use queer like a safety blanket in offline conversations, it’s as accurate as I get to someone who doesn’t already know me. I’m looking for a new psychologist, and there’s a few queer-centred clinics in my state’s capital (Melbourne, Australia) I’ll be checking out.

The extreme degree of lack of sleep is almost certainty a response to everything that’s happened this year with regards the incredible invalidation from my former psychologist and family, but it’s making it hard. If autism makes a lot of the above difficult, insomniac autistic cranks the playing level right up!

I’ve been thinking about the direction of this blog, since I would like to open up the ask box again. The problem is that this blog was becoming a little more community-conversation-support-and-validation than is easy for me to handle. It takes a lot of spoons to be available to provide that kind of response and support, and there is always going to be a greater need for it than I am able to provide. To be frank, it’s overwhelming to me to constantly see it in my inbox and my messages, and that’s not something I well handle as an autistic.

I’m a creative. I write, I sew, I scrapbook, I design, I make. I’m hampered by my disabilities and an inability to have or afford real workarounds in terms of accessibility aids, but as much as I am able to, I make things. I was quietly proud of myself during awareness week for being able to get past the “I can’t do it perfectly so why do it at all” tendency of mine to make pride-related pieces that weren’t perfect (lack of tape, time, editing, fabric, marker pens) but still existed, as that’s something hard for me. And it meant the world to me to see some of those pieces get likes and reblogs!

My highest shape of activism is always going to be creative media, yet this blog, combined with the limitations of my disabilities, was making it harder for me to do that. It’s not coincidental that I’m able to write more stories with the ask box closed!

The other problem is that a lot of the conversations I was getting more concerned aro-ace folks, aro-ace experiences and aro-ace relationships to the aro-spec, ace-spec and a-spec communities. I’m not saying that you don’t need or deserve the support, and it is by no means wrong that anyone sought this out, but I felt like I was providing more reassurance to folks with issues that don’t impact me in quite the same way, without the time to talk about my own needs (because I am disabled, my spoons are limited and I never had the ability to do both the way I wanted). That felt like I was working more to support other people than I was to support myself; my activism slowly moved further and further away from my own needs in the aro-spec and a-spec communities.

I hope folks appreciate that providing reassurance, validation and support to fellow community members is a lot of work--something that takes a lot of time, a lot of physical ability, a lot of physical energy, a lot of emotional ability, and a lot of emotional energy. It’s work, it’s skilled work, and it’s hard work--something I don’t think we always stop and acknowledge in activist spaces where the need of people to be supported is sometimes pushed ahead of the ability for people to provide it. Particularly when the people who are doing this work are unpaid, often unsupported in their providing of this work while at the same time being applauded for it, and have to face a never-ending need for it should they begin to offer it.

I’ve had asks that have distressed and triggered me, asks that need all the empathy and validation I can provide but at the same time distress me to the point where I can’t cope myself. Where do I go to talk about that? Where do I go to find help? I can’t write a post about it here; that would hurt the person who needs help and has done nothing wrong in seeking it. Psychologists see other psychologists for support, but we have a grassroots situation where folks are providing nearly the same sort of work on an untrained, volunteer basis, for a community in incredibly desperate need of it and can’t actually go to a psychologist who doesn’t understand aromanticism, without any kind of support network ourselves.

Without that, it’s very difficult not to succumb to overwhelm and burnout ... and for much the same reasons folks came to my ask box, I can’t easily see a psychologist myself for coping with this, or afford to do so as frequently as I need even if/when I do find someone supportive.

I think a good thing for the aro-spec community to discuss would be the ways we can support other community members in their community-support-and-community-building activities, in terms of making sure that the people who are working to build our communities are physically and emotionally safe, have spaces where we can discuss the challenges and problems in providing community support--in the same way psychologists also have these support networks--and have their labour acknowledged in the sense of our promoting their PayPal, Ko-fi and Patreon accounts (it’s hard to manage the emotional work of providing deserved support for our own when we’re panicking over having $5 in our bank accounts and a $100 bill to pay next month). We shouldn’t be taking it for granted that the people who are helping prop us up can do so unaided, not when we all know the struggles we face in a capitalist, amatonormative world. Let’s please acknowledge this, not just for me but for every other aro-spec who is putting their works out in posts, answering asks and creating the content we need and appreciate.

Let’s do our best to support the people who are supporting us and have open conversations about the struggles and stresses of activism, because I honestly feel that the only options for me include shutting down the inbox forever, being seen as selfish and demanding if I talk about the problems of being a source of support because I’m supposed to be helping people, quitting the blog entirely, or struggling through it all until I shatter.

In the meantime, though, as a disabled aro-spec, I have to draw a line.

For me, this comes back to what I want to do--run a blog about aro-spec creativity while making more original aro-spec creative content--and activism that directly concerns and impacts me. That means, specifically, allo-aro activism, because I’m increasingly finding a disconnect between general aro-spec approaches and my own needs. Activism for aro generally isn’t resulting in a-spec spaces that feel safe for me, and that’s where I want to direct my conversations.

For this blog, @aroworlds, I’d like the ask box to be an easy way folks can recommend media, discuss content, squee about something cool they read/saw/heard/found, share pride merch, give their thoughts on something with regards representation or creativity. I won’t say that I won’t make my own posts about activism here and there, but I’d like to get back to a focus on creativity. I am asking, therefore, that people please keep messages, submissions and asks to topics of aro-spec creativity and creative media. I am no longer taking support-providing asks, community information asks or community terminology asks on this blog.

For my other blog, @alloaroworlds, I’m happy to have more conversations about aro-spec community issues, identity experiences and creative media as concerns allo-aros. This is where I want to focus my activism outside of creative media, and this is where I want to have community-issue conversations. I’m not yet at a point where I’m really able to provide much in the way of emotional support, but if I ever get my life to a point where I can, that’s where I’ll be providing it. In the meantime, though, let’s talk the aro-spec and a-spec communities and where allo-aros fit into them--and anything else allo-aros want to talk about.

Thank you so much for reading this monster of a post, my lovely followers. I won’t be opening up the ask box here today or even this week, but I will hope to be soon. Because I really do miss folks telling me about something cool they’ve found, and I hope we can get back to that and other projects and discussions focusing on aro-spec creativity.

In the meantime, if folks could wish for me a week where I sleep every night, I would be exceptionally grateful!

#mod chatter #aspec community #arospec community #aromantic activism #activism discussion #discussion post #long post #very long post #extremely long post #rambles about my personal life #personal #queer #it is ridiculous how tired I am right now #aromantic and trans #aromanticism and autism #autism #alloaro

29 notes · View notes

darkangelz87 · 6 years

Text

Different Perspectives

A Autistic Sherlock and eventually Queerplatonic Johnlock fanfiction. Read if you want. ^^

Seeing from Different Perspectives

Chapter One

Autism.

: a mental condition, present from early childhood, characterized by difficulty in communicating and forming relationships with other people and in using language and abstract concepts.

Vague snapping of fingers, twirling, chewing on pencil erasers, sleeves and hands, bright lights, colors, sounds, texture of food and clothing, comforting or abrasive, touch, unwelcome and hurtful, eye contact, nope, thoughts merging and turning into screams… “STOP!”

Sherlock froze, shocked at the sound of his own voice ringing in his ears as he still was pulling at his curly hair, his eyes growing watery with unshed and unwanted tears as he stared straight ahead which happened to be right above a crowd of milling people in a shopping mall and dear lord, no, John was here. He didn’t want John to see this!

John Watson stopped what he was doing which was interrogating a passerby and he immediately strode over to him where he was sitting on a bench, the army doctor mask coming over his face as he leaned down, trying to catch his eye sight, “Hey! Sherlock! You okay? What’s wrong?”

Sherlock frowned, an eyebrow twitching.

Okay… I should probably start from the beginning.

I was diagnosed with Autism as a child and that combined with my brilliant mind and swift calculations was an astounding combination.

I saw it as a gift, my brain but I learned from other people especially my family and fellow childhood students that it wasn’t such a brilliant thing.

I remember enjoying and getting lost in the rays of sunlight through dust motes and how my pleasure points of my brain lit up with joy as I spent hours running my hands through the magical streams. I tried to show it to my family and got scolded for spending hours loafing when I should be studying.

My first special interest and happens to still be a dear interest of mine before studying murders, literature and violin was the wonder of bees. I fell in love with them after I saw my first bumble bee. One landed on a flower near me as I sat studying on a hill near our old house and when my eyes strayed to it, I felt something in me stir with silent wonder at its tiny fuzzy body and its low almost soothing buzzing. I watched it, enthralled until it flew away, and I rushed into the house, went to the family computer and quickly searched ‘Bees’.

I began to draw hundreds of bees, reading and studying everything about them and catching them, putting them in jars and letting them go after a while. The thing that blew my young mind and made me admire the little insects even more is, scientifically, the bumble bee’s wings should be too small for it to fly. Amazing little creatures that no one ever took notice of.

My bees ‘obsession’ was dismissed as a childish phase.

Flapping my hands when I was happy was discouraged ‘It was embarrassing’, twirling was considered dangerous to myself, to everyone around me and to the breakable objects within reach, when I was quiet and wanted to listen to Bach with my headphones on instead of struggling to push words out of my mouth I was considered uppity and snobbish.

Everything I did was wrong, so I started to formulate a blockade around me, my emotions and my autistic side was pushed down and restrained so I turned myself over to my mind and my calculating abilities and enhanced those qualities about myself instead and silently reveled in the praise it brought me from my family and the school faculty.

It didn’t help me with people though, they were a foreign entity and I didn’t want them to get too close to me because if they found out all about me they would surely go away, and I didn’t want the trouble, the headache and pain of relationships. And having girlfriends or boyfriends was out of the question. Sally Reed from high school tried to kiss me and I punched her for touching my tongue with hers and all the boys wanted to do with me was they hit me and taunted me for being smarter than them. I can’t help it if I knew the formula for pi in 4th grade, I naturally excelled at mathematics.

Later, I found my calling in being a consulting detective for Inspector Lestrade, it fully utilized my brain in a healthy way (drugs got my pent-up emotions and energy out when I was high, and I didn’t care about keeping up facades when I was stoned) and I could get along with Inspector Lestrade (Even if some of his group are complete idiots). I eventually found a promising flat with an acquaintance I knew from an old case, Mrs. Hudson. The only problem which was a big problem considering my sometimes-low funds (I refuse to ask Mycroft for anything if I can help it!) was I needed a flat mate to help me with the rent.

In walks John Watson.

I admit, at first, I was only interested in Watson because of his ability to pay some of the bills and to furnish half of the rent but then it turned to something else when he really listened to my deductions with almost a form of awe and a word whispered in complete reverence like: ‘Marvelous!’, ‘Brilliant!’, ‘Fantastic!’, the list went on and to top it all, he killed a man for me.

I haven’t known him for very long but what I do know of Watson, he intrigues me, and no one has ever intrigued me before. I wanted to keep him thinking that I was this intellectual genius, so I hid my disability from him with care the last couple of months that we have lived together.

Well, seems like the proverbial cat is out of the bag.

I didn’t want to go to a mall to talk to a jeweler that had been robbed from, it was a category 3 at least, not worth my interest but Watson had shown interest in it and he said it would be nice to hang out together, that it would be a casual time out together.

Uhuh… I should’ve went with my instinct and said, most definitely no!

It was an onslaught on my senses ever since we entered the doors. Screaming kids, chattering, giggling girls and boisterous laughter assaulted my ears, fluorescent lights glared in my eyes making my head pound with intense pain and people getting too close for comfort sometimes made my skin crawl and unpleasantly itch all over.

By the time I was clawing at my hair and screaming for everything to “STOP!” I knew my cover was blown.

I didn’t dare to look up when John asked what was wrong, but I gritted my teeth and clenched my eyes tightly shut, trying to shut out the imminent look of pity that would surely be coming from Watson.

What I didn’t expect was gentle, steady hands on both sides of my face.

My eyes flew open in shock and I blinked unexpectedly at the change of brightness as I slowly registered that John had just slipped a pair of sunglasses over my eyes.

I blinked up at John and he just smiled, a little smile that he shows sometimes when he is reading the paper, writing in his blog, or drinking an extra especially good cup of hot tea and he walked back to the jeweler, continuing to ask him questions.

I was dumbstruck.

I composed myself and quietly felt around in my faculties, testing myself to see if my senses had calmed down somewhat and found to my surprise that just dimming the lights had made the sounds more bearable and my pounding headache melted down to a tremor of pain. Note to self: Start carrying sunshades in coat pocket.

John walked back to me and I cocked my head to one side, looking up at him with a question on my face, he answered the quiet question, “Nothing that the police can’t solve by themselves.” I growled in annoyance, rolling my eyes, “Like I said, clearly a category 3, nothing of interest.” John grinned, shrugging, “Ah, oh well. It was worth getting out of the flat for a bit huh?” I snorted, looking away, “I’d rather dissect a skunk than be around these swaggering, giggling bags of testosterone and hormones.” John laughed, making me turn my eyes on him, really looking at him and seeing him, I quirked an eyebrow quizzically at this seemingly normal man and I smirked.

John Watson was anything but normal.

Author’s note: This chapter is insanely short and kinda pointless lol but I just wanted to start this story with something sooo here it is! I’ve been wanting to write this for a very long time and I’m starting it! I’m excited! :) I will be using my own Autistic experiences in the story (Using sunglasses does help dim down sensory issues for me. I wear them in public a lot.). I hope to be able to kinda write and put together a guideline for the next chapter so it won’t be so short and kind of random and I am debating just keeping the story in Sherlock’s pov and not switching back and forth like I am prone to do.

But yeah, this story is about Autistic Sherlock and how he tries to act neurotypical and generally succeeds until John Watson comes in the picture and figures things out and the big thing is, John doesn’t care that Sherlock is Autistic and it may possibly be one of the things that he loves about him. 😊

Yes, there will be queerplatonic Johnlock a lot later in the story cause it’s a slow burn, very sloooow but cutesy fluffy slow burn.

Hope you guys like it and feedback is appreciated! 😊

ω\$X�\$PD�l��}'Oe

#autistic sherlock fanfiction #actuallyautistic #autistic fanfic #johnlock fanfic #queerplatonic johnlock

10 notes · View notes

stimtoybox · 7 years

Note

I'm really confused as to what the term neurodivergence or neuroatypical means, and if that label is associated with things other than autism like SPD (more likely?) or personality disorders (for some reason this rubs me the wrong way idk?). Anyway I hope this question makes sense. >~

It’s cool, anon, and I think I understand. I hope I do, anyway, and if I’ve misread your question, let me know and I’ll try to do better.

Neurodivergence (or neurodiversity) and neuroatypical mean the same thing. (There’s been a push towards neurodivergence/diverse over neuroatypical because it’s easy to read “neuroatypical” as “neurotypical”. This isn’t good communication, especially for disabled people.) Basically: it’s an umbrella term for folks whose brains don’t operate on the assumed standard factory setting for humans.

Depending on who answers or who defines, just what it includes may differ, but I consider everyone with some kind of brain difference included under this umbrella. Folks with mental illnesses, folks with personality disorders, folks with developmental disorders, folks with learning disorders, folks with SPD (sensory processing disorder), folks with brain injuries, folks with epilepsy or seizures, folks I have forgotten to mention. I go inclusive because there’s so much overlap. What’s really the difference between an autistic person or an ADHD, anxious, SPD or epileptic person avoiding a sensory trigger? Autistic people aren’t the only people who need to stim. Neurodiversity, as an umbrella term, centres our similarities of experience.

(By the way, I am not here to quibble on who is or isn’t neurodivergent enough to be included in this community. Not now, not ever. I don’t care how you diagnosed or what your history is. It’s none of my business unless you care to share it. Sometimes conversations will steer more towards one experience over another, and we who don’t have that experience, identity or diagnosis need to respect and listen to those who do, but this space is for all neurodiverse people. If you identify as neurodiverse, you belong here.)

“Neurotypical” means “not neurodiverse”.

If you’re after a word that distinguishes between autistics and folk who aren’t, the word is “allistic” or “not autistic”. Many neurodiverse people are allistic.

(There’s a high degree of overlap between SPD and autism, but folks with SPD who aren’t autistic are still allistic.)

So, in summary: “allistic” is the word you use if you want to talk about people who aren’t autistic. “Neurotypical” is the word you use if you want to talk about people who aren’t neurodiverse. “Neurodiverse” or “neurodivergent” are the words you use when you want to talk about people with a variety of brain differences and our shared experiences in an ableist world.

Lastly. I’m absolutely sure you don’t mean it this way, anon - that your confusion comes because autism and SPD feel more alike, and not knowing the breadth of the label “neurodivergent” makes it harder to understand how everyone fits in.

But I’ll mention that people with personality disorders are incredibly pathologised and deal with a shocking, terrifying degree of ableism and hate from society and the medical profession, and we (all neurodivergent people) need to challenge this as much as we challenge any other aspect of ableism that harms us. I’ve only been assessed for BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) and once that became part of my record, I had entirely unrelated doctors comment to my face about how difficult I must have been, and how much hell I must have given the psychologists who worked with me, for them to put me forwards for a BPD assessment. Just because I was assessed. Worse, I’m struggling to get firm diagnoses of what my personality disorder/s is (or are) because the psychiatrists who assess me literally acknowledge that I hit the diagnostic criteria for several personality disorders but don’t want to give a specific label. That’s how weighted down with ableism the names of personality disorders have become.

We need to love and support our kin with personality disorders, because they are as welcome here, and as safe here, and absolutely as neurodivergent, as everyone else.

#ask #anon #text #not a toy #off topic #ableism discussion #long post #neurodiversity discussion #discussion post #stimtoybox #mod K.A.

19 notes · View notes

behindthebridgeblog · 7 years

Text

Teaching Music to Students with Autism

by Audrey Williams

Over the years, I’ve had the interesting challenge of teaching a handful of students who were on the autism spectrum. I’ve always had a special place in my heart for the special needs community since my youngest sister was born with a serious disability, and I’ve lived through some of her struggles with her first hand. I feel that I have to at least try to work with any student who has the desire to learn an instrument until we reach a point where I’m more of a hindrance than a help.

Every student is different, and this is even more so the case with autistic students because there is no one way to categorize or pigeon hole autism. Even high functioning autistic students can have social interaction and motor control issues that you’ll have to find a way to overcome. I had one student who consistently had a hard time focusing on complex assignments while another could complete assignments very well, but would start humming and zoning out if my lectures went beyond a minute or so. I had yet another student who had the spectacular gift of being able to identify the pitch of any note he heard on any instrument in the exact order that each note was played even though he had severe limitations in his daily life due to his Asperger’s symptoms. There was definitely no one-size-fits-all teaching strategy to handle the array of behavior patterns, but below are a few techniques that helped me reach my students where they were so that they could also reap the benefits of music lessons just like their mainstream counterparts.

Be prepared to provide a simplified version of assignments or break complex assignments into smaller pieces. I’ve found that having smaller bite-sized deliverables helps keep the momentum during lesson time. For example, we may decide to check off a song line by line instead of making it a requirement to play the whole song perfectly from beginning to end.

As a music teacher, you just have to accept that most assignments will never be polished, so you may have to pick one or two teaching points to focus on and then move on once you feel that your student has reached an acceptable level of proficiency.

For some students you may have to get all of their senses involved in order to draw them into the lesson. I have red rhythm sticks that I let students use to beat out their rhythms while counting out loud. In the past, I’ve also had students glide and then hop across the room to demonstrate the difference between playing legato and staccato. Sometimes I would unexpectedly throw in a flashcard exercise if I would see that I was reaching the end of my students’ attention span for a particular assignment.

If your student has perfect pitch, then you might want to build your lessons around that strength since that is something that comes naturally to the student.

If a student is consistently having trouble reading notes on the staff, then you might want to try associating a note name with the pitch or even a color and then make the connection to the symbol on the staff to see if that helps. You can have your student color the note on the staff with the same color that you used in your association game. Your student can use this same color chart on his/her assignments for the next few weeks or months to see if this finally helps things click as they learn to read notes on the staff.

Colorful and quirky visual aids may also be helpful in getting your student to focus on what you’re trying to teach.

Give your rehearsals a distinct routine, and warn students if you'll be breaking from it. Many students find this comforting.

I believe that all students should have the equal opportunity to play in my student recitals if they so desire and have the adequate time to prepare. For my autistic students, I make sure to physically practice recital etiquette starting weeks before a recital. This is sometimes very effective for students who have trouble emotionally connecting to others. This way they know what they’re supposed to do even if they can’t fully understand why they should acknowledge the audience that has so kindly sat through their performance.

I’m in no way an expert when it comes to handling autistic or other special needs music students since the bulk of my training has come on the job. This list of ideas came about after a long time of trial and error, and I’m happy to have met my autistic students because they’ve helped to make me a better teacher for all students. I hope that this article will be helpful to you should you ever find yourself in my shoes one day.

Audrey Williams is an associate member of the Recording Academy and a blogger for Behind the Bridge.

3 notes · View notes

pubtheatres1 · 5 years

Text

London Pub Theatres

London Pub Theatres by Heather Jeffery (first published 2016)

With 23 London pub theatres to choose from there is something to suit every taste, every night of the week. The range is staggering, from Opera to drama, from puppet theatre to musicals, comedy to improvisation, activist to experimental. With many plays lasting only one hour, there’s still time to catch some music, have a meal and, of course, have a glass or two. Virtually all pub theatres let you take your pint into the auditorium so you can relax and enjoy the performance.

One of the major points to these theatres is that they are a platform for work that you will not see in

West End theatres. At the same time, they are also a platform for theatre destined for the West End. It’s a great talking point, once the lights come up after the performance has ended, you can hear the buzz of the audience talking about what they have just experienced. A shared experience. This is one of the reasons a pub is such a great venue for theatre.

Some pub and theatre partnerships are more loving than others. Take the Jack Studio Theatre at Brockley Jack in well … Brockley. They have won several Off West End Theatre awards for the friendliest welcome. Also winner of Best Theatre Bar (south east) in The Off West End Theatre Awards 2015, the Brockley Jack has a great family vibe but it’s equally a place where you can feel comfortable even if you’re on your own. There’s always a welcome from the pub staff as well as the theatre staff. They have disabled facilities (ground floor theatre), smoking and non-smoking beer gardens, plus heaps of activities throughout the year. Artistic Director, Kate Bannister explains that “the productions are eclectic, polished or raw. There is a great atmosphere; people are genuinely supportive as all the performances are at different stages of development.”

Also outstanding is Bread and Roses Theatre at in Clapham. It’s under joint management with the company who runs the pub also running bars at Glastonbury and Latitude festivals. As Tessa Hart, the Artistic Director explains “We pay a very reasonable rent. The pub also benefits because the theatre brings in more custom. During the first year the pub had a 26% increase in sales.” One of their winning features is that they pride themselves on favouring diversity.

The one or two pub theatres that don’t work so well together do struggle. When it works well the pubs find themselves powerfully repaid, in repeat custom, pre and post theatre dining and plenty of mates coming along to support theatre events. At The Hope theatre the relationship works really well with all their logos featured on the windows which adds a vibrancy, a come-and get it appeal. AD, Matthew Parker says, “It’s brilliant working in a pub, wonderful”. He has built a great relationship with James the Landlord, based on mutual trust. That is what makes the difference.

Ticket prices are anything between £5 for start-up company shows to £25 for more established companies with a full production. The standard can vary enormously but the spirit is always to go along and try something new. It’s an opportunity to discover that radical new piece of theatre, or that extra-ordinarily talented actor.

You will often feel intimately involved in the performance. Tessa Hart, Artistic Director of the Bread and Roses Theatre (Clapham) puts it this way - “Pub theatres are very close to the people, very close to the audience; you can play into their eye. The pub is such a hub for the local community so to have a theatre just above that, it’s a really nice thing. You don’t get the culture of pub theatres in other countries, it’s something quite Britain specific.”

There is a can do attitude in the best of these theatres. At the Jack Studio Theatre one visiting company wanted water to shower over a 15-foot-long table. This needed a water tank, piping, a trench for collecting the water and expert timing. Karl, the manager at Jack Studio theatre said “The company did a terrific job. It looked spectacular.” They have to assess risk, and take safety measures. Sometimes they have to draw the line; they decided to say no to a flaming trench down the front of the theatre.

Most pubs and their theatres are under separate management and whilst they work well together, it’s a symbiotic relationship in which each party looks after their own interests. With theatres needing to raise £100,000 they have to be serious about tickets sales and fund-raising whilst expecting no revenue from sales of beer. Many pub theatres such as King’s Head and The Hope (both in Islington) have Friends Schemes which enables you to make a donation in return for priority booking, and other perks.

Pub theatre venues are very important as a showcase for Britain’s emerging talent as well as more established theatre professionals. It is a shocking fact that not all will get paid for their work. It is particularly encouraging therefore, that there are signs that more and more pub theatres and the companies who work in them are paying wages as their audiences continue to grow.

Indeed, many pub theatres gain accolades for the productions they mount or host, a whole firmament of stars. Some of the real powerhouses, which currently have productions which started at their venues but are now in the West End or touring are Theatre 503 above the Latchmere pub in Battersea (And Then Came the Nightjars), The King’s Head (Trainspotting and F*cking Men) and the Finborough in Earl’s Court (Operation Crucible and It is Easy to be Dead). These are established theatres with an excellent following.

Other established theatres whose productions progressed to be seen by a larger audience, are The Gate, and Old Red Lion Theatre (Islington). Along with the King’s Head Theatre, which was the first theatre to open its doors since Shakespeare’s day, ORLT is one of the oldest theatres. The pub itself, although tiny, is big on sport, frequently heaving with people. The tiny box office often has a long queue and don’t even ask about the garden.

At the other end of the scale are the new kids on the block, Theatre N16 (at The Bedford, Balham), and Bread & Roses. Jamie Eastlake (AD of Theatre N16) says he likes to do stuff which “sticks its middle finger up to things I don’t agree with, but like programming work that is just across the boards”. He thinks that “every good piece of theatre is political in a sense … we’re above a pub, isn’t that the place …?” Rebecca Pryle, manager of Bread and Roses says “it’s one of the last hubs of community pubs and then you’ve got the theatre crowd, different spaces where different people can be and it all works really well together.”

There are many fringe theatre festivals in which pub theatres make a big impact. The largest is Camden Fringe which started at Etcetera Theatre (Camden) which is one of the most valuables theatres for start-up companies giving them affordable opportunities to showcase their work.

There is certainly something for everyone, with options including Opera at King’s Head Theatre and musicals, at Upstairs at the Gatehouse (Highgate). Some theatres have a particularly eclectic programme. AD of the Finborough, Neil McPherson related a story about himself: “I was at this party and a rather bitter guy was bitching about every theatre in London … ‘Finborough do war, genocide, disease, politics, feminism, socialism... and camp cheesy musicals …’ I tapped him on the shoulder and said ‘yes we do!’” McPherson added that “a lot of new plays will be raw and messy … usually they’ve got guts.” It’s also about keeping it open and accessible.

Others have relaxed performances. Most recently at Theatre 503 for some performances of their show featuring Autism. Other theatres also feature relaxed cabaret style performances which enables you to go and top up your drinks or have your bathroom break. Canal Café Theatre above Bridge House Pub in Little Venice particularly favours this format and so too do some venues that mainly feature improvisation such as The Cog Artspace above the De Beauvoir Arms pub in Haggerston.

Pub theatres are important for fermenting emerging writer, actors, directors and other theatre professionals. Some theatres pride themselves on being teaching theatres, this includes The Gate which is the only pub theatre which is Arts Council Funded. Many venues are nurturing new talent, with pioneering Trainee Director schemes, new writing festivals, and other programmes. The buildings are continually evolving and making improvements. White Bear Theatre which has been completely redeveloped is reopening this month.

What is on offer in these theatres is a massive range of productions, some of which are destined for greatness, some which fit perfectly in the small venue setting and yet others which should never be seen again

If you’re looking to get started experiencing different pub theatres, a good place to begin is London Pub Theatres magazine (www.londonpubtheatres.com) where you’ll find what’s on pages, top picks, reviews, theatre profiles and a list of London pub theatres with addresses and websites. If you’re on Twitter, daily updates can be found on https://twitter.com/pubtheatres1

#London Pub Theatres circa 2016

0 notes

itsyourturnblog · 5 years

Link

My two sons, Aaron, Tommy, and their Cross Country Team**

June 6, 1990

Principal, Hopewell Junior School Lakota School District West Chester, Ohio

Dear Dr. Taylor,

This year Tommy and some of his friends joined the cross country team.

Recently my nephew, Robert, (not real name) started laughing hysterically when I mentioned his cousin Aaron also going to be on the school cross country team. “What’s Aaron going to do? Bite and push all the kids at the starting line so he can win?”

I was deeply hurt but tried to explain it wasn’t all about the winning, but rather, the trying that was important.

Robert was shocked! “But why would you even try if you knew you couldn’t win?”

Different Kinds of Winners and Losers

I explained there were different kinds of “winning.”

Aaron has autism… but he also has the need for belonging to a group and he needs regular exercise to be healthy. Robert stared back at me blank-faced, and after several uncomfortable minutes, I changed the subject. To this gifted 14-year-old, who has above-average good looks, athletic ability, and intelligence, this made no sense. Sigh.

Robert, Tommy, and their peers are the people on whom Aaron will always be dependent. They are the next generation of parents, professionals, neighbors, and…coaches.

The experiences and value systems they are developing in school, in the community, on the cross country teams–right this minute — will directly affect Aaron’s future.

Robert has never gone to public school, run on an inclusive cross country team or been friends with people with physical and intellectual challenges. Even though he got A’s in a private school, I think he has a deficit in his education, personal experience, and values. Obviously, even his experiences with his cousin have made little impact. This will impact his future as a member of his family and community. It’s not a visible “D” on his report card, but it is an invisible “deficit” and loser in the race of life.

Who are the Winners and Losers?

How do we teach that the person who comes in first is not always the biggest winner? Can children learn it takes courage for not just children with challenges, but for all the boys and girls who finish near the end?

WINNERS are sometimes those who RISK losing…being laughed at…coming in last.

Learning and Teaching Values

Each nation decides what is normal, average and gifted. They decide who are the winners and the losers.

Recently, we’ve been stunned by news accounts which demonstrate how the values in Iran, China, and Russia are different from our own. We have also witnessed incredible changes in philosophy, public opinion, and policy. Values are fluid, changing and dependent on multiple factors.

Shaping those values and rights is something we do every day, consciously, or unconsciously. Sometimes value changes are dramatic like the Berlin Wall coming down–winners. Sometimes value changes are dramatic like Tiananmen Square-winners/losers depending on your point of reference.

The rights of citizens are gifts from a nation to their citizens. These rights and freedoms cannot be taken for granted.

The tragedy of having a child with a disability has nothing to do with the child, a syndrome, disease or label. The tragedy comes from the struggle with people in your family, community, country who decide if they will accept and support your family or rejected and isolate you:

· Whether the differences are overlooked or emphasized.

· Whether the winners are only the ones who come in first.

“But Wait until Junior High”

When we went to court in 1979 (Cincinnati Public Schools) to allow Aaron, and other children with IQ scores below 50, to go to the public school the doomsayers predicted, “MAYBE it would work in elementary school…But wait until Junior High!” “The teachers and coaches care only about academics, the sports are so competitive, the kids are so cruel–during lunch, they will put drugs in your child’s milk”. They hatefully wanted to frighten us into accepting the segregated school for only children with disabilities and a segregated life with “his own kind.”

Last Day of Junior School

Today is our last day at Hopewell Junior School and happily, those predictions are laughable. Thanks to the vision and caring of the administration, staff, teachers–especially Miss Linda Lee–and the other students in the school Aaron and his classmates have had a great experience.

They are the first class of people with significant disabilities who have been able to attend a regular public school. It has been a new experience for everyone and it has been a success.

Aaron has had many opportunities for learning functional skills which will help him live, work and participate in the community. But more importantly, he has had opportunities to be “included as a regular student.”

There were some who wondered why a kid, who can hardly talk, much less sing, would practice and perform on stage with the school chorus?

Why someone who has severe balance and flexibility problems would try to participate in the cross-country and track team?

They wonder if it be would have been safer if Aaron rode the “handicapped bus” with an extra aide, instead of the regular bus with his brother and neighbors?

They will never understand why we hate Special Olympics?

These parents, students and community members can’t figure out what could Aaron possibly get out of an assembly, or six minutes in regular homeroom?

The answer to most of these questions then and now is really WE Don’t KNOW the future!

The schools are changing the future

Aaron has gifts, strengths, and talents and when given opportunities for learning–determination and pride. Someday research may give us the answers, but for today we do have our observations:

· Each time a schoolmate says, “Hi” and forces Aaron to give eye contact, each time a teammate said, “Go, Aaron, you can make it!” or gives him a high 5–it is a victory.

· Each time they see Aaron make it over a creek or down a hill we celebrate.

· Every time they see him complete his vocational job stacking juice cartons in the lunchroom, sorting the silverware, filling the pop machines–it is a value-enhancing experience. Aaron can learn to do jobs, that if he didn’t do them, someone else would.

· This year Aaron’s picture is in the yearbook next to his brother’s. He and Tommy’s picture is in also with the athletes for Cross Country and Track. A First!

· A general education high school student cared enough to help Aaron participate in a bowling league. And then, he took him to the Eighth Grade Dance whose theme was “That’s What Friends are For.” A First!

· Aaron’ name (granted it was a name stamp) was on the class t-shirt. A First!

· Aaron got a school letter in cross country and track, including being in the team picture. A First!

· Aaron got his first paycheck ($18.54) from his vocational training site, Grote bakery, allowing him to become a taxpayer. A jump-up-and-down first!

A whole lot of Learning

To me, these shifts in school philosophy, values and focus on inclusion are every bit as dramatic and hard-fought as the Berlin wall coming down.

In the current evolution to merge special and general education, to change special separate classes into a system of inclusive classes with support services for ALL children–the new ideas, opportunities, choices, risks, and freedoms are truly exciting.

Hopewell Junior School has given both Aaron and Tommy the chance to be winners. The chance to show that sometimes the biggest lessons are not just in the classroom.

Their success has been a victory.

Hopefully, in this human race, our world will become a better place because of the mix of people who grow up more fully with the experiences of community inclusion. The winners are everyone who was part of this cross-country experience.

Thanks for your continued support. Thanks for making Hopewell — a Well of Hope.

Sincerely,

The Ulrich Family

Epilogue: 20 years later

Junior High turned out to be one of the best times in Aaron and Tommy’s lives. They both had caring teachers who looked at each of their individual needs. I wish we could find out what memories the other students had of their time with Aaron and Tommy in cross-country, track, bowling, choir, gym… I bet they would have some funny stories. I wish them all well.

ps. We often think of how the students are going to grow up and be the next voters, taxpayers, citizens… but we often forget the school staff also evolves. Aaron’s teacher, Miss Lee went on to become a district supervisor and Dr. Taylor, the principal, is the current Superintendent of Lakota. I like to think about their experiences with Aaron and Tommy influence that they are today.

Comments:

Were kids with autism and severe disabilities included in your school? Do you have any thoughts to share? What do you think the future looks like?

An original article from Mary E. Ulrich ClimbingEveryMountain.com

Some edits to the original letter

Tommy is in the third row and Aaron is the redhead in the middle of the picture that refused to look at the camera

Letter to Principal on the last day of Junior High School* was originally published in It's Your Turn on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

by Mary Ulrich via It's Your Turn - Medium #itsyourturn #altMBA #SethGodin #quotes #inspiration #stories #change #transformation #writers #writing #self #shipping #personaldevelopment #growth #education #marketing #entrepreneurship #leadership #personaldev #wellness #medium #blogging #quoteoftheday #inspirationoftheday

#ItsYourTurn #It's Your Turn #IYT #altMBA #Seth Godin #Inspiration #Stories #Change #Transformation #Blog #Medi

0 notes

briellebouquet · 5 years

Text

i’m sick and i don’t know what it means. what with. how to fix it. i guess i haven’t tried hard enough. going to doctors a bunch over the last year doesn’t make up for the fact that i ended up cutting off of meds cold turkey. and then ruining christmas.

trying first to explain to my younger brother B how hip hop isn’t actually dumb or bad. he used to love hip hop. it was confusing and difficult to understand. shortly after mental health came up. he used the word ‘pussification.’ i tried to explain that it isn’t something that can just be controlled. turned off, or gone around even. turns out he’s as stubborn as i am. pussification. i couldn’t even communicate the latent sexism. and the fact that i was trying to sort out my own, uh, pussification. in the sense of weighing the how-to, pros, and cons inherent in transitioning. that i had only within the preceding few months even solidly accepted that i was into guys, and would be pursuing what at the time would’ve been a gay relationship. it stung, hearing what felt like an assault on my emergent trans identity, sexuality, and mental health struggles all at once. but i held on tight.

i broke later. discussing something related to capitalism, wages if i recall initially though it branched out, with my aunt. then my brother A jumped into it. and my dad. and B again. and from the periphery my other aunt. me against the world. it was polite enough at first but ultimately, i ended up so buried trying to communicate disclaimers and softening my arguments so as not to offend anyone, that the people arguing against me would interrupt me before i’d even gotten to the point i was trying to make. the interruptions at a certain point got aggressive. i was passionate, but i didn’t get heated until right before i broke down. i got flustered and panicky and said “i need to stop” and hurried past everyone from the back corner of the room over to the stairs, then down into the basement. i sobbed and cried. my dad came down and apologized and cried too. he often does. it means alot that he cares enough to regret these things. but it doesn’t stop them from happening.

strung out on meds after being denied long term disability by insurance (Sun Life) on the grounds of it being a pre-existing condition. I was under a month (might have been just a week but i can’t remember for sure) from the ‘pre-existing condition’ clause no longer applying. i went off of work for having panic attacks and breakdowns. hyperventilating in the bathroom. crying on shift. picking beard hair out of my face to the point of it leaving patches and having to shave. they paid me short term disability, then denied me long term after leading me to believe it was just a matter of paperwork going through. which left me out of money and out of work. no money, no meds, i thought. i mean, while waiting for their decision, i had lost upwards of 30 pounds. unable to afford food. going a day or two at a time on an apple poached from the fruit dish upstairs. then caving and stealing eggs and making them while my dad and his wife were at work when i got so hungry i stopped being able to move. that was my life. i stayed on meds through a bunch of that, but when they turned off my income, i lashed out and immediately dumped by remaining meds, shortly before the christmas shitshow. a couple of weeks prior i think. if i didn’t have an income, i didn’t owe it to anyone to keep taking them. they weren’t working. and i wouldn’t even be able to afford a co-pay for renewal. might as well get withdrawal over with, i thought. i stopped going to therapy after the third appointment where she shrugged and told me change how i think about things. it wasn’t working. i wasn’t having success. and it got so awkward and uncomfortable trying to explain why the treatment wasn’t making sense to me, and having her respond the same way, that i couldn’t get over the threshold when the next appointment came. i canceled via email and made up an excuse and said i’d reach out again to reschedule if that was okay. knowing i never would.

losing my income, i sold both of my guitars, still a bit before christmas. got nickel-and-dimed pretty bad. got like $800 which i paid $400 to dad for rent, and the rest, i used for groceries and fast food dopamine chasing. i didn’t have much in my life. giving in and irresponsibly getting a sub for $8 honestly kept me going. especially after losing my guitars. i still love singing, and occasionally write bad poetry, but music was my capital O Outlet. i miss it so much. i miss having ideas and being able to fumble my way through the process of trying to pull it out of my head. i don’t know when i’ll be able to get a guitar again. in this time period, i continued losing weight and struggling to find food. especially once the guitar money ran out. it didn’t last terribly long. somewhere in january i went to social services and now i’m receiving a small monthly stipend that i usually burn through by the 15th or 20th. sometimes i burn it at bars. i go to bars to read. i can be at a bar and feel like i’m socializing even when i’m not. when i’m there alone. shallow pleasantries with a server. chatter all around me. it helped. coffee shops too, but most of them close early, and i stay up all night so i don’t have to be awake while my dad is home and active. coffee shops don’t work as well. but alcohol and pub food is extremely expensive when you’re dead broke. so, like i said, i run out by the 15th or 20th. between a few pub trips, coffee shop runs, fast food weakness, and groceries.

i went the long way around, but it’s been a few months on social security payments and weeks at a time being pinned in the bedroom with dad and his wife periodically expressing frustration with me for being here. it’s led to me trying to be invisible. but i also run out of money and ultimately poach food from the fridge. when there’s cans of pop i break down and take them sometimes. i hate myself for it. i try to replace them when i do have money, but then i drink those too. i get panicky to the extent that i haven’t been able to refill my water when they’re awake and home, let alone use the stove. even when i have food. even going to the bathroom i try to time out so i only have to leave the room when they’re in bed or not home. i know this is messed up. they’re not being directly cruel. it’s more passive aggressive. and apparent in how they speak to me, when we’re in situations where we speak. situations that are occurring less and less frequently as i back away, and they back away too. i can feel the frustration. sometimes dad lets comments slip i think by accident. it’s clear that i’m not welcome here. and i get it. i’d want my place to be my own place too. but it’s also been a terrifying experience for me, trying to cope with being unwanted. it’s been just about a year now, here. not for one second has it been good. it’s humiliating. i’m 33. i just want to live on my own and not starve. god i want to live on my own and not starve so bad. so that’s where i’m at.

i’ve been reading lately about autism. i’ve been diagnosed with cluster B BPD which shares symptoms with autism. and there are some autism indicators that i at least don’t think i share. but also lots of accounts from autistic people that i’ve experienced directly day to day. or have figured prominently in the leadup to gruesome lifequakes (i’ve had 4 or 5 at least.) so now i’m thinking, am i autistic? or have i created confirmation bias as i desperately search for a diagnosis that will lead to effective treatments? i had told my therapist and my psychiatrist and my parents and my MD that i think if i had a safe, private place to live, and enough money for food, that i could at least do a better job working on treatment recommendations. i think that would go a long way. maybe the BPD treatments and meds, thus far completely ineffective by any tangible noticeable measure, would work better if i weren’t breaking down at work, or freaking out about not making rent. the System couldn’t make that happen i guess. so now i’m living in an immensely unhealthy environment, eating poorly for 10-15 days every month, too afraid of people to even socialize let alone go jobhunting again, and trying to diagnose myself with something that will get me help. real help. i’m suicidal. i’m fucked up. i’m hoping i can get on EI disability soon, but even that only lasts for a few months so it’s a bandaid.

i have a doctor’s appointment re: HRT for transition and i’m going to cut my food budget so i can buy makeup and a wig in the meantime. femme clothes will have to wait unfortunately. i’m fighting back suicidal ideation by imagining my future as a woman, planning to volunteer at Pride (god i hope i can make a friend or two, being alone hurts so much i can’t stop crying about it) and hoping that i can get a referral to a new psychiatrist soon. One that’s trans friendly. i had a rough experience with the last one when i came out to him. a new therapist too probably. i can’t see myself getting over the discomfort and trying to get back in to see my old one. my visits with her were limited by the province anyhow - her job isn’t to have permanent patients.

if i can get EI disability, move out into my own place without a roommate - a bachelor suite that’s safe and comfortable would be enough, - buy some thrift store femme clothes, start learning makeup, and get on HRT + a referral to a good psychiatrist and therapist... if i can have some of those things work out, even. maybe it’ll start getting better. maybe i’ll be able to look in the mirror again. maybe i’ll be comfortable going out in public. maybe i’ll make a friend or two through volunteer work. maybe this year, i’ll be able to at least conceive of a way to buy a decent electric guitar. but i mean, all of this stuff, even making and keeping friends, requires money. and i’d very sincerely rather die than get the customer service work i’m ‘qualified’ for right now. i’ve been to the ER after screaming about suicide and bawling at work twice in the last couple years. i can’t honestly say i’d go to the hospital again if things got that intense. stabilize first, then work.

i guess all of this depends on whether or not the canadian safety net is strong enough to keep me afloat. applying for EI has taken forever and will only last i think 4 months. the government absorbed my tax refund into my outstanding student loan debt. social security doesn’t pay enough to cover rent literally anywhere. housing assistance may or may not approve me - i can’t even apply usefully until i have EI income, since housing assistance does not = free rent and i sure as hell don’t have a damage deposit saved up.

things don’t look good. i don’t know what i’m sick with. i have no money. and i’m living in hell. this isn’t coherent or well written, i know. it serves no functional purpose. but it feels better to dump it on the internet than it did to scrawl it in my diary in apoplectic fits as it was all happening. maybe some day i’ll try to tell a real story. to tell a story, usefully. to some end other than weakly grasping at small measures of catharsis. i hope some day i can. for now, it’s enough to scream “i’m hurting” and walk away. so now i’m gonna go outside into the violent wind, and walk away.

goodnight. if you read, or even skimmed this, thanks. it’s bad and heavy, i know. so thanks. goodnight :)

0 notes