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#obv this is not an autistic exclusive experience
genderkoolaid · 4 months
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i don't know what autistic person needs to hear this but they are not watching you. the entire world is not constantly waiting for you to do something weird and laugh at you behind your back. you do not need to constantly self-police whenever there's the slightest chance another person might see you. you have a right to be your autistic self in public spaces. stop fighting yourself for their sake.
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evandore · 1 year
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whusgwhhevsggsve. this is so embarrassing >_< i listen to a lot of music right. like just sitting alone and playing music for hours at a time for fun. and i stim while doing so. and this is like. well its daily but mainly i do it at night since my stim is. aggressively rocking back and forth and throwing myself around the bed cause i am jamming yknow.
and obv that makes a lot of noise and back when i lived w my mum i got yelled at a lot since my bed was broken and every time i moved it creaked loudly. so now i sleep on a mattress on the floor so that Doesnt happen (alsoz aggresive constant stimming. breaks bedframes. jsyk.) and i thought i was good now cause its a mattress its not loud or whatever. but my brother just texted me asking me what the noise was and hes been hearinf it every night (hes up at night downstairs mostly.) and that is just. eugh. THATS SO EMBARRASSING!!!! like obv im getting more comfortable visibly stimming as the years go on and i care less about social stigma. but this is like. its such a private thing.
i Dont do it in front of people and dont like people knowing cause. thats My business. whixh is also why im worried about long term relationships and moving in w lovers cause idk if id be able to share a room. i Need to sit alone and lisyen to music for hours every night or i will go crazy.
um but yea idk. im just wondering if like. i mean i know this isnt like some exclusive experience like in a generalized way but then you get down to it and realize like. music is my special interest which is. Idk i dont like saying that since its so. like you know its such a common thing that it doesnt explain the autistic depth to it. which is why i default to playlists cause thats Is my niche and fhats what im into but that also excludes all the other stuff. i dont even know where im going with this the past couple days i couldnt help comparing myself to other people and feeling bad about my weird tendencies :( i know i shouldnt but :(
and the worst stupidest thing is that i Want to meet someone like me who shares my interests cause i know in the end no one actually cares about my playlists or gets it like i do. but at yhe same time if i Did meet someone like rhat. i would get so defensive and so so angry out of some like. idk individuality complex everyone has rhese days. and if rhey were doing it in a way i thought was Wrong it would be even worse.
anyway look at what my brother said
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mllemouse · 4 years
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Tw Idk gender confusion???? I am throwing this here to the void bc I've been talking to myself literally all day and really very often for the last few weeks and maybe if I write it it will becomeore cohesive. On mobile, can't put in a jump so just be forewarned of a deluge.
Tw cancer and surgery and imagined gore!!!
Okay so. J tells me they're non-binary, that's very cool to me, but embarrassing after I told them I go by my first initial online bc I'm an easy Google, thinking they were a basic straight boy. (Also, the main reason I even liked them was bc in their profile they are beautiful and a lil feminine and I am just oblivious as fuck!!) I started going by an initial like 8-10 years ago and since have slowly been changing up my name where possible as I come across a new place it's stored.
Tbh I originally consciously chose an initial bc I just didn't want people immediately judging me as a woman. It infiltrated my personal life some, there are people who just call me L, my ex referred to me as L in all his notes, my mum addresses postcards and packages to me as L, and it's given me a lot of delight! The idea that people don't know my gender, or that they know and choose to continue using the initial has always left me just chuffed. I knew a couple other people that came out and switched to an initial as their name everywhere, but like didn't connect it to myself until J asked about it specifically bc they had a hunch I was also nb. (Honestly, my opening profile line is 'be the love child of Tilda Swinton and Frances McDormand you wish to see in the world' and then the whole profile is me in my glasses and nerd clothes... It's uh, not a stretch now that I look at it.)
I quickly did some refreshing on definitions and language, which punted me straight back to middle school when I hit puberty and started feeling so! Deeply! Uncomfortable! In my body. I used to stand in front of my mirror in my undies and stare in horror at what was happening. I had been wearing a bra since grade 5 out of shame in the girl's changing room for gym, that was less of an issue (I literally threw out those bras when I went to college bc they just got ratty, not bc I grew out of them!), but I watched my hips develop and envisioned having them sawed back down so they could be narrow again. I also got my period in middle school and have loathed it ever since. I wished I was a boy but only for the ease of keeping my body; I didn't want to dress different or change my interests. I wasn't raised in away that dictated male or female activities/interests or even clothing -- except I hated that my brother was allowed to go topless in public whereas I could only do so in a backyard -- yet gender noncomformity, while always accepted, was just not that actively encouraged. Educators told us what to expect during puberty but never that we should tell someone if we were so distraught over it.
I didn't really get much in the way of boobs but I used a tensor bandage as a binder through middle and high school (not even knowing what that was, I just wanted to be flat and saw Gwyneth Paltrow do it in Shakespeare in Love!), I remember sneaking it into my bags for college, but I don't have specific memories of using it then. I was kind of happy with them at figure skating bc I ended up being like the only girl who didn't need a bra or padding in her dresses, my mum just sewed a triple layer of fabric in the front for warmth and I was good to go. I was deeply ashamed of my hips and thighs however, and we got in fights over my skirts all the time.
By the end of high school I was fantasizing about plastic surgery and a hysterectomy. At one point I wished cancer upon myself so I would have an excuse for a mastectomy and hysterectomy. My mum actually got cervical cancer and I was, I'm so sad to admit, slightly jealous.
I came to Tumblr and found the fitblr community quickly after quitting skating and dealing with mono, feeling a need to get back into something competitive. I quickly came to loathe not only my own but other women's bodies through the inspirational photos. I loved the men's bodies, and operated with a goal of getting my body fat low enough (like, aimed for a men's recommended percentage, my period could go to hell) while building muscle that I would maybe narrow my hips and shrink my breasts, while having visibly muscular abs and arms.
I'm not sure if it's a net positive thing that I crashed on my shoulder and haven't been able to fully return to the training I wanted to? After the crash I really tried to treat myself better. The body positive movement was telling me to vehemently love all of my body (nevermind it's almost solely geared towards able bodied cis women), and I tried. And I got distracted: moved away, fell in love, discovered I am probably autistic, made some significant life goals. So by the time I was settled here and feeling like I could experiment more, I channeled that entirely through clothing rather than change my body. First dictated by what's comfy (we don't do a synthetic fibre or picky knits on this body), then by how I wanted to present myself to the world: obv, Tilda Swinton in a suit. By this point I have forgotten middle school, high school, and college.
And basically, though I was somewhat consciously changing my name to an initial and intentionally dressing predominantly masculine (but like blazers and trousers and oxfords aren't... Gendered??) as a rejection of toxic patriarchy and capitalism, I ended up not even thinking it could be a gender thing until J did a double take on my name. I have thought about it occasionally over the years and honestly just never thought I was uncomfortable enough to even say I may be non-binary, let alone do anything about it. trans? I can't feel like I hold any ownership over the word. Which now seems... Insane. How did I rationalize wishing violence upon my body and putting it through truly damaging physical duress for nearly two decades in pursuit of obscuring the stuff that made me female. And don't get me wrong, I love a good dress, I tolerate skirts, sometimes I wear heels bc I like to be tall and feel powerful, and I like my face and my long hair, and sometimes I wear makeup because I think I look pretty even though it makes me want to claw my face off. (And have realised that a LOT of the way I have styled myself in the past was purely self objectification for men and not actually what I enjoyed.) I just... ???? Is that not trans enough? I still don't know!!
Anyway to end on a positive, shout-out to my mum who just doesn't give a fuck abt what I do, as she quickly changed her correspondence to me to exclusively my initial, and has always shopped in the men's section with me, and is currently making me a historically accurate 18th century men's outfit so I can really be the boyish chaos I want to see in the world. Tilda and Frances' love child indeed.
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iphis24 · 4 years
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thoughts on Locke and Key (netflix)
spoilers, obvs. evaluation under the (highly idiosyncratic and unapologetically biased) headers of: audio description; queer content; romo stuff; women’s rep; some not-fully-articulated thoughts on representation of race, mental health, and neurodiversity; worldbuilding; and how scary it was.
CWs: suicide, death, violence, accessibility, faceblindness, race, cisnormativity, poly stuff, guns / shooters, sex / dating / high school culture, demonic possession, motherhood / family, ableism, crime, fiction, Coraline by Neil Gaiman, videogames, body horror, A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket, fandom
audio description
this was the first time I watched a show using the audio description track the whole time, and I have to say that really improved my experience. 
as I keep telling my friends, “the nice voice tells me who the white people are”: it helped sort out the character recognition problems I have because of faceblindness
it also really helped me to catch body language/facial expression stuff that I would otherwise have missed: this show seems to have a lot of “glistening eyes” and “trembling chins”? I really never would have picked up on those on my own
it was a slightly odd experience because I was watching with both subtitles (which remained necessary because the actors don’t enunciate their lines in an even volume in the way the audio description reader did) and the audio description, and the scripts were almost mutually exclusive: the audio description would talk when there were no subtitles, and the subtitles would come in when there was no audio description. nevertheless, the combination really improved my experience of the show.
I was glad I could understand the audio description even without subtitles; the pacing, enunciation, and even volume really worked for me. the reader’s voice felt clear and catch-able.
the audio description also helped reduce the tension I felt because of suspense - it often came in a little earlier than the action was actually shown, which cut through some of the scarier moments for me. I appreciated this because I’m not really into the horrory parts of horror, but your mileage will almost certainly vary.
queer content
I was promised nothing and still disappointed. 
there’s an uncle who seems to have a partner named Brian or Bryan or something. the partner is mentioned maybe two or three times and never appears on screen. the uncle himself never explicitly talks about or references being non-straight. this is breadcrumb level rep.
there are a bunch of jokes about a “demon” villain character who shapeshifts into personae of different (binary) genders - other characters refer to this character as “he/she/it”, at one point even saying “I don’t know the pronoun for demon-nonbinary”. “they” is never considered as an option. nonbinary is never mentioned as an option for nonvillain characters or human characters. disappointing.
romo stuff
there was a nice moment when a character who is romantically interested in two other characters suggests they both date her at the same time. this doesn’t work out, but I did appreciate that
a male character is consistently good about a female character not wanting to date him. that feels markedly nonstandard even though I would like to believe it’s a bare minimum. in a show marked by the spectre of the Isolated White Gunman, I appreciated the presence of at least minimally mediated masculinity.
I honestly still have no idea what the age of these characters is. it felt kind of odd that there was so much dating and kissing and sex having going on, but shrugs.
women’s rep
two intimidating and beautiful women are (possessed by) demons. this disappointed me greatly, especially considering that one of the reasons I was originally hooked was I was hoping for some nice wlw subtext and an ao3 archive full of f/f.
kinsey was a fun character though. jackie had some good moments but it just took me a really long time to remember her name and what she did outside of those moments so that’s something. ellie and nina were certainly present too, but it felt like their job was mostly Being Moms and sometimes Struggling Inspiringly with The Past.
race
we see a Chinese man kill himself at the start of the show and like. he’s pretty much the only Asian character with a name who’s important to the plot and the main thing he does is kill himself.
other than that, a whole bunch of white people and a few black people. even ellie manages to live in a house which, other than her, is full of white people. it feels kind of weird that they seem to have used adoption to shy away from having the autistic boy be black, but maybe his birth parentage will be important later idk.
mental health and neurodiversity
the way the plot dealt with these felt weird and uncomfortable at times. a woman in a mental institution has her situation explained with magic. mental health days form the basis of a throwaway joke. an autistic boy’s mother uses his “meltdowns” as an excuse to do crime, while the boy himself is shown to be a sort of gentle giant friend to a much younger child.
BPD was also used to try to explain the shooter figure, which was kind of gross.
worldbuilding
I was originally really into about three things here: the “hidden objects game” aesthetic, the “Coraline” aesthetic, and the “hypersaturated fantasy world” aesthetic.
hidden objects game: I really loved how the title cards promised and then outlined how the keys played into stuff. that was great. love the aesthetic of the keys. love the weird sideways shit the keys do. the keys r just So Good. I want to hug them.
Coraline: there was less like,, Horror Of The Body than I expected based on the “keyholes in flesh stuff”, but plenty of Plucky Children. possibly more of a Coraline Laika movie feel than a Coraline Book feel, given the presence of Friends. an unexpected resonance I kept feeling was to the Baudelaire children from ASOUE, but like, the unfortunate movie version. these children r v white and not v specialised.
hypersaturated fantasy world: I wanted more of the surreal bullshit. loved the Dad Memories Candy Shop and the Kinsey Brainmall. show me more of this stuff. I want colour!! flying nonsense !! really smart and quirky design choices!!! please,,, 
how scary it was
I made it to the end but felt worried about the presence of shadows when I left my bed to get a drink. this show at least temporarily made me fear the dark.
on the bright side, it was mostly not very gory. the main fears presented seemed to be the figure of the lone (white male socially isolated Mentally Ill) gunman, and the violence that “normal” and “good” people might be forced to wreak in response. also, shapeshifting genderswitching beautiful demons.
overall thoughts
I want more gay, more gender, more grounding in the body, and more surreal hypersaturated interestingly designed worldbuilding. also, possibly more women, possibly of the non-evil variety. I haven’t decided yet whether I want this badly enough to fill the fandom gap on my own but it seems at least a little bit possible.
depending on the art style, I might try reading the comics. see how.
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corinnebean · 4 years
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2019 Archive Post
Last year, at the end of 2018, I was preparing my end. 
I wasn’t suicidal, no more than usual. But I realized that medically, no one was going to help me and I didn’t have the energy to put one foot in front of the other. I didn’t want to fight the cardiologist who after seeing my heart rate go over 200bpm for 3 minutes (after immediately spiking to 180 from standing up and then dropping to 50 randomly before jumping up again) who said my stress test was “normal” (after the tech was alarmed as fuck).
I had spent several years trying to spin plates and I was exhausted, so I spent time doing life reflection and quietly began “signing off” to people. I was beaten down and was relieved to know I had a condition that has the ability to off me without notice. It didn’t help that making it “official” that I was drawn to people’s peopleness and not their genital arrangement was met with extreme hostility and turmoil in my closest relationships and family. They said every possible after-school special, clichéd, hate-filled response imaginable. Really. I even got “what will the neighbours think?” 2018 was like shedding a very heavy shell and being exposed to the elements. You just are ready for it to end.
I logged out off social media and chose to follow things that felt like “me”. There has never been a me. Not really. I wasn’t accepted growing up for one label or another or all of the above. And they are like a braid. They all intertwine and I spent 30 years working to make those parts of me not visible to make other people happy. Now I’m pretty casual about dropping that I’m bi/pan, autistic, and have mental illnesses that require lifelong upkeep. Online, all these things are greeted with “me too, bitch; you ain’t special” (and I love that about this hostile plain). 2019 started with me going “I’ll do what is asked of me, no more, no less.’ And I lived water. Water is something I have used to survive. I recognize that the water that will drown me is also the water that hydrates me. That will cleanse me but will pour out of me when I am filled with sorrow. The water that sustains me is also the water that hinders me. And to experience floating I need to relax when I am surrounded. Nothing that has happened to me is exclusively negative or exclusively positive. Most people would disagree so hard with that assessment if they saw moments and not arcs.
With that, 2019.
The year began quiet. Julian and I shared a passion for Schitt’s Creek which turned out to be one of the worst things about this year. Where doing the right thing made me feel like the bad guy. I can’t go too much into it because it’s being taken out of my hands. But a certain national Canadian network was really great at breaking laws and relying on my niceness to not make waves for a very long time. The few that know know only portions.
May came and the storms came crashing. At the same time as the above began, my landlord evicted me (illegally) (new landlord, same reason).
And it was there that every remaining twig and branch crumpled, snapped, and cracked open. I could no longer take having everyone and everything I tried to trust push me under. I was still hoping the ticker would boom in all this, but clearly it did not. I decided to throw everything I owned away (well, charity, friends, people in need, etc.) and start new. I needed a place where I had access to medical care; J needed a place to develop community that would accept Julian. It was obvious a city in Canada was going to be the move. We started in Vancouver (priced out), Calgary (not good for J), Edmonton (that’s too cold, and I like cold), Winnipeg (child, you will not fare well), Toronto (priced out), Montréal (mais oui!), and then a cluster of the Maritimes including Halifax. Montréal was the next closest city that fit our needs.
Two months later, Chewy, two bags, and I were in Quebec rushing to set up a home for Julian and I. It’s quite a bit of Ikea furniture, but the whole life reset cost under $10,000. My home has wonderful owners who are ready to cover the costs of upgrades and upkeep. Which is good because I’ve been drinking lead, the wall in the front entry has a stress fracture and is crumbling, the balconies and fire escape are disintegrating, my bathroom sink was chipped and became shattered because of a faulty shelf, and I caught two mice--it’s been quiet since but I am not quitting the hunt and am considering a cat again (ehhhhn). The contractors here are impossible to pin down, so it’s a bit of a jumble still. I know this all sounds like “bad water”. The things that are meant to destroy. And I feel it often. But in dealing with the legalities of the national broadcaster, I stumbled into a pool of beautiful people. The worst part was I was trying to swim and trust when everyone else around me was pouring more water on me. I was out there trying to look like I knew how to be around people and I knew I had to trust everyone or no one. And when my trust got chiselled again in September, I locked myself out from people again. Absolutely aware this was not a good decision, but it was the best one I had at the time. Being alone is the only time I feel truly at ease in my mind. I have found people over my life to be at ease with, but so many of them have broken fundamental trusts; I am uneasy about everyone. I am still capable of giving unconditionally, and normal social interactions. Just letting people close to what breaks me is going to be hard for a long time to come.
I live in a beautiful city, I am relearning another language, Julian and I both won major contests this year, I’ve made new friends who are really awesome. I feel free to be me and pursue a relationship with whomever I am attracted to without worrying about really horrible feedback (not ready, obvs.). Julian and I are figuring it out here. Julian is learning what J’s expectations of me require of me and what I sacrifice to do so, so that’s been really good for Julian’s empathy. Julian has amazing friends who are all older (Julian has always connected with older kids and being the youngest by skipping a grade here has been great), some understand implicitly who Julian is. And is thriving. I love the weather. I love the freedom.
There is so much good in the water, if you’re willing to risk drowning.
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