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autistic-people-are-awesome · 11 months

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*reminder: I know the authors of this article meant nothing but respect & kindness BUT we say gender not gender “identity” weather you are talking about a cis or trans person, k?

Resource Guide

Gender and autism: What the autistic community wants you to know

June 1st, 2021

AutismBC

Reading time: 4 minutes

For Autistic Adults; Allies

Autistic Adults

Blog

There is no wrong way to enjoy Pride, and we encourage everyone in the autism community to take some time to reflect on the challenges those around you face. We hope this resource blog encourages our community to foster greater understanding and compassion.

The autism community has a large and diverse representation within it, including a large number of people within the greater LGBTQ+ community. It is possible that autism is overrepresented among LGBTQ+ because autistic people are less likely to bow to social pressures that keep other people from coming out. Perhaps they are less likely to identify with social “norms” and pressures and therefore present themselves authentically. By listening to and acknowledging our autistic peers, we can gain a better understanding of the uniqueness of the human experience.

Awareness in assessment and medical teams working with autistic people is very important. They should be sensitive to different information processing/communication styles as well as different gender identities. Some autistic people may struggle to express their feelings regarding gender. Even when they do express their feelings, they often face doubts from clinicians because of stereotypes about autistic people, which can block their access to medical care.

Let’s start with the basics!

What is gender diversity?

Some people do not feel fully masculine or feminine, and explicitly reject the notion of two mutually exclusive genders.

Gender divergent (variant/non-conforming): someone who does not conform/identify with their assigned gender but may/may not consider themselves trans.

Some trans people opt to alter their bodies via hormones or surgery, those who identify as genderqueer or non-binary may adopt a name and pronouns that better reflect their sense of self, without physically changing their bodies.

What are some challenges currently facing the Autistic LGBTQ+ community?

Limited or restricted access to safe opportunities to explore sexuality/gender identity.

Bullying

A lack of resources and safe places specific to Autistic LGBTQ+

Missing, absent, or incomplete sexual language and education

A lack of belief and affirming support for their feelings and/or expressed identity.

What support is needed for the Autistic LGBTQ+ community?

Information about sexuality, gender, and relationships should be given clearly from a young age

There should be comprehensive and inclusive sex education

Programs for people on the spectrum should include information about LGBTQ+ communities to help young autistic people navigate their sexuality and gender.

LGBTQ+ groups and communities should be more intentionally proactive and inclusive of neuro-diverse people.

We should all highlight struggles attaining an assessment or diagnosis due to masking, not being taken seriously, or heard.

We need to highlight the importance of Pride, visibility, and how to be an ally. We are not there yet despite some progress being made.

Let’s empower parents and families with how to use language.

“Autistic people are more likely to be gender-diverse, but most problems they encounter with such identities are societal and systemic in nature. Gender affirmation and support from friends, family, and health services to clear those barriers can often be the difference between life and death for a gender-diverse Autistic person.” – Gee Abraham, Nov. 2019 . .

Now, let’s get into the resources. We have them broken up into categories so you can find the ones you need when you want them.

Resources

Autism, Gender, Identity & Sexuality

Overlap Between Autism & Gender Diversity – Laura Dattaro

Gender and Sexuality in Autism, Explained – Laura Dattaro

Respect Sexual Orientation, Gender Diversity in Autism – John Strang

Access to Better Sex Education – Steven Stagg

Living Between Genders – Deborah Rudacille

Autism & Gender – Gee Abraham

Nonbinary & Autistic: What’s it Like? – NeuroClastic

Genderbread Person v4 or

English-Gendy_New-2.0.pdf (egale.ca)

Autigender – LGBTA Wiki

Neurogender – LGBTA Wiki

Relationship Between Autism & Gender; An Autistic Perspective – Lyric Holmans

Support toolkits

Gender Equity & LGBTQ2S+ Resources – Government of BC

LGBTQ2S+ Toolkit – AIDE Canada

Dancing to Eagle Spirit Society

LQBTQ+ Immigrant & Refugee Resources – Mosaic

When Autistic Students Are LGBTQ2+ – Wendy McGuire & Dori Zener

Transgender Nonbinary Student Guide

Aide Canada Gender Based Violence Toolkit

Social Support & Connection:

QMUNITY – BCs Queer, Trans & Two-Spirit Resource Centre

What’s On Queer BC

Two-Spirit & Indigenous LGBTQQIA Support Circle – Native Youth Sexual Health Network

Creative Diversity Friends Club

Sydney and Kirra’s LGBTQ+ Social Group

Reading List:

Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity, and Neurodiversity – Dana Vilker

Trans and Autistic: Stories from Life at the Intersection

Spectrums: Autistic Transgender People in Their Own Words

The Autistic Trans Guide to Life @Website pls add

Misfit: Changemaker with an Edge: Souvaliotis, Andreas: 9780992029500: Books – Amazon.ca

Queerly Autistic – Be proudly autistic. Be proudly queer. Be proudly you.

Self-Advocates & Advocacy Groups:

Autistic Women & Nonbinary Network (AWN)

Lydia X. Z. Brown

Neurodivergant Rebel

Life as a Transgender Autistic: Passing and Masking – August Queue

Alistair – HParadox

Noah Adams

Trans Newcomers Resource Hub – Mosaic

Autistic & Trans – Facebook Group

Gay and on the Autism Spectrum – Eric Ascher

Hashtags to Follow:

#WeAreNotConfused #DifferentNotLess #LateNotLess #Autistic

Crisis Supports:

Trans Lifeline – (877)330-6366 (In Canada)

Tran lifeline - (877) 330-6366 (In U.S.A.)

Línea directa in español

La línea directa de Trans Lifeline es un servicio telefónico de apoyo dirigido por personas transgénero para las personas transgénero y/o que están cuestionando su género. Creemos que el mejor apoyo que las personas Trans pueden recibir es el de los miembros de la comunidad Trans con experiencias de vida compartidas.

Llámanos si necesitas a alguien Trans con quien hablar, incluso si no estás en crisis o no sabes con certeza si eres transgénero.

Marca al (877) 565-8860 en los Estados Unidos o al (877) 330-6366 en Canadá y oprime el #2 para conectarte con operadorxs que hablan español.

310-Mental Health – 310-6789 (no area code needed) YouthinBC – 604-872-3311 (in BC)

Genderbread Person v4 or

English-Gendy_New-2.0.pdf (egale.ca)

Learning Opportunities:

Intro to Gender Diversity Free Online Course

We know how overwhelming acronyms can be, so we created this handy little glossary to help out! We will be updating it regularly, so please let us know if anything is missing or if one of our definitions is incorrect.

Do you know of a resource that should be on our list? Please reach out here and let us know.

https://www.autismbc.ca/blog/gender-autism-allies/

*reminder: I know the authors of this article meant nothing but respect & kindness BUT we say gender not gender “identity” weather you are talking about a cis or trans person, k?

#trans and autistic

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normankok99 · 1 year

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Does Minecraft Server Host Usually Mean that you Feel Stupid?

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"I like playing with LEGO so I thought this can be fun. I worked hard on the legend. I liked that I was able to make my own choices. It's not a particularly unique game in terms of how it works but it's a fascinating one to study in the case that you or someone you know has autism and would like to know where to go. Purple Prison is a fantastic Minecraft server that everyone seems to love. Automated clustering was able to guide teams that Minecraft players fall into. Recreation Mode settings are intended for survival or no injury desire for the players. This is the first knowledge-acquisition section of the sport. This is the exploration phase.

#Minecraft Servers #Minecraftservers

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

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A Cure for Insomnia CH.2

Getting back to your little one story cottage, you can only manage to rush in and run about in a mad dash as you try to accomplish getting ready for work and getting something to eat. Running through choices in your head as you change and freshen up, nothing sounds good. There's not much time since your shift starts at nine and to make it to the store you need to leave by eight twenty. You got home at eight fifteen, and while Nate, your manager, has never seemed to give a fuck what you did at work you're still in your probationary period and would like to keep the easiest job you've ever had.

It's a really simple gig, seeing as the store you work at is actually a front for some illegal activity. The variety of crime you aren't sure of, but you are aware there's no way you guys do no business and yet they can afford to pay thirty dollars an hour. Thankfully just keeping your mouth shut and being nice to little Jo, the owner's daughter, is enough to keep you in the cushiest job in the world. The store's front is a regular old book store, all the books are real, the registers work, you're able to sell books and you've run to the bank to do the weekly deposits twice for Book & Nook. The front is very legitimate or it would be if the amount of customers ever equaled the sales made.

Again you don't ask questions, because for thirty dollars an hour you get to goof off for a couple hours a day, plus you get a bonus when you watch little Jo at the shop. She's a real sweet eleven year old, she's got tourettes and took a shine to you the first time she saw you tic. While you both might not suffer the same disorder she finds the common ground nice, like it's not just her. It's not even hard to watch her or enjoy her company, she'll come bouncing in with her excited chittering and hands clapping spilling all the latest gossip that comes with being in middle school. And boy is there a lot of gossip.

It's really nice seeing that Jo has friends at school and is even considered a “popular” kid. You remember how tough school was because no one understood you and teachers never cared enough about your personality to bring up the fact that it was clear to most faculty members that you had Autism. You excelled academically so what did it matter if you got picked on for oversharing information or for finishing assignments the minute they were handed to you. As bittersweet as the parallels are you're so glad Jo doesn't have to go through that. Never would have thought a southern school could be so accepting, much less a middle school at that.

Tearing through the kitchen you honestly can't find anything that you want to eat right now. And even after a long night of hiking/dissociating you don't think you're that peckish at all. Figuring it's best to at least take something to quell any future nausea you grab a Pedialyte Pop from the freezer. As fast as you entered your home you left, and not before ensuring twice that the door was locked and secured. While living on the outskirts of town saves you from many potential robberies, and worse salesmen, there's still the chance of some lunatic with an ax hiding out in a closet to murder you. Better safe now than sorry later.

Pulling into park behind the shop right at nine is a blessing. You run into the shop to clock in blurting out a quick 'Morning' to Nate, who was carrying a particularly large box, as you passed by him. In a flash you were back at your car retrieving your newly prized deer skull. Lungs burning a bit from the all out sprint you just did you took a little extra time to close the trunk and lock your car up to catch your breath, and avoid any light headiness you might get from the empty stomach workout. Eager to share the wonders of death with your best work friends, and by that you mean Nate your manager...and only other coworker, you rush back into the building.

The shop was quiet as usual as you made your way through the door though you were in the back room where only employees could roam you had the slightest suspicion that the front of shop was just the same. It's there you find Nate, now lugging a medium sized box around to a side table. He did this a lot you suspect some type of smuggling but hey plausible deniability and all those legal matters. The taller dark haired man sees you and just as he's about to wave you over, notices your prize with a raised brow.

“The fuck d'you bring in the store?” he doesn't seem amused by whatever it is he thinks you're up to. “Deer skull.” Lifting it up in one hand and pointing at it, “Found this guy on my hike last night...or rather this morning actually.”

“YN, we talked about this, you said you'd get some sleep last night. No adventures remember.” he's only two years older than you and yet he acts as if he's ten years. He must be an old soul, or enjoys the role of care giver...or you're making him go gray prematurely, anything's possible.

“Eh, I remember saying I'd 'try' and get sleep.” for someone who's body is running on fumes your cheekiness is astronomical, “operative word being 'try', remember.”

It's a long silence as Nate decides if he wants to deal with your bullshit at this moment. After a minute or so he concedes leaning back on the table behind him. “Let's hear it.” and you perk up immediately.

“Cool, so I was walking along the tree line and spotted him, tried to find more but seems there's only one piece. Judging by the size of his antlers I'd say he was nearly fully grown. Now my plan is to do whatever treatments taxidermists do to bones and,” you continue to word vomit at the tired twenty-six year old in front of you, about the joys and wonders of taxidermy and the likely hood of ever finding a skull so nicely preserved.

“I can do that in here right?” even though it's been phrased as a question, you aren't asking permission, you're just being polite and letting Nate know the storage room will house your creepy deer skull antics for today...maybe the week you need to find a taxidermist book to figure out what you need to do.

Nate gives up and leaves with his box of new books to let you have full run of the back to do your weird vulture culture shit. He figures he's just too old to understand the new obsessions with the macabre. He hopes his cousin won't take to shit like this, the kid's weird enough as it is, no need to put another target on her back. Nate sets off to take down the Harry Potter sets in favor of this new comic series little Jo wanted.

Already taking his silence as the go ahead you place your found skull on the table and rush off into the store front to find a book on taxidermy and hopefully more specifically about bones. The set up and organization of the store reminds you a lot of the scene in Brendan Fraser's The Mummy 1997 where Evie is on the ladder and somehow causes all the book shelves to fall like dominoes. So unsafe, yet all book stores and libraries seem to have this set up. With the tall shelves it makes it difficult to accurately get a read on the spines. You don't even know what section taxidermy actually falls under, education maybe?

“Nate, where do you think a book on taxidermy would be?” you called out as you passed by him.

“...hobby?” that didn't sound right but you'd give it a shot anyway.

This should be fun, the hobby section was so disorganized and it took up nearly half the store too, Book & Nook had everything from fishing, to crochet, cooking, the art of film making, hell even had a cryptid hunting book a book that you may have to look into a bit later. You closed your eyes and let your intuition guide you, when you looked up you saw a thin black...vine, no whisp? It undulates in less than rhythmic movements nearly like a snake but it has no head, and not unlike a tentacle but without suckers. It's another hallucination so you were keen to ignore it until it stretched past your head, giving you an added auditory hallucination where you swore you could hear wind rushing past your ears, it swirled around you until it flew to the shelf and tapped on a book. Cautiously you walked over to it, it's never good to play into these delusions. Once you got close enough the black shape was gone but on the shelf was a creme colored paper back titled “Manual of Taxidermy: Complete Guide of Preserving Birds and Mammals.”

Walking to Nate with the book in your hands you asked him to read it and make sure you weren't having an episode and making everything up right now. You'd have to try harder to go to sleep tonight if that were the case.

“Oh you found your book huh?” he said looking down at the title.

Well this is getting weird fast, but you nod nonetheless. Might as well thank the weird hallucination gift right. Leaving him to do whatever it is he plans on doing the rest of the day, you go to the back. And just as the book instructs you set to cleaning the skull by setting it in some water and changing it as many times as the water runs murky. The book is quiet helpful to a beginner like yourself but it does seem a bit outdated from the bits of information you know from taxidermists blogs and vulture culture posts on the internet. Reading it in between water changes is a great way to pass the time though, not like you guys get any real customers anyways.

The bell rings as the front door opens and closes alerting you to someone's arrival on your third water change. Needing a little bit of mental stimulation you walk out into the front where Big Jo and Little Jo are talking to Nate. Little Jo sees you and skitters away from her father to rush you, she stops about a foot away and holds her arms wide open. She's a hugger but upon meeting you had never even thought people could be touch adverse so keeping in mind that you might not want to be touched she's learned to invite you into hugs and it's your choice to allow it or not. Placing a hand on your bicep you give a squeeze, checking your tolerance you find the thought bearable. Placing your arms outstretched at your sides Jo rushes your torso for her hug.

After she nearly body slammed you into the wall, and let her death grip go she was off on a tangent about so many things. Her excited rapid blinking tic, one she developed after meeting you, triggering your own.

“Ok so you remember how last week I told you that Jessie Kinsleton said that Micheal Saleisa told Gigi B, not Gigi S. that Meghan,” you had no clue the lives of eleven year olds had gotten so complex, from the gossip you heard from Jo it seemed that the school's sixth graders were plotting for a war with an ice cream parlor up the street. No clue why, maybe just to fuck the system, kids are weird, preteens are weirder...and angry.

But you nod to Jo listening to her every word, and trying to calm your eyelids so you could actually open your eyes. After being told the sequence of events that would happen in the Tween Armageddon, something to do with Marco Salvator ordering three dozen donuts and a flock of geese, your eyes finally gained their ability to see back. Black whisps, much like the one from earlier, wandered all around your vision, it looked like a dark smoke had settled eye level within the shop and was snaking through the isles.

Catching the movement of your eyes Jo looked around the shop too. Seeing nothing she turned back to you concerned, “Hey it's okay, nothin's there.”

Hearing the drop in volume of the normally chatty tween, Big Jo and Nate pause their conversation to turn their attention to you and follow you're gaze.

“Kid, you ain't sleepin' again?” Big Jo can already gauge by the bags under your eyes but he's a polite man so he feels the need to ask rather than state his assumptions.

“Day 6.” You answer simply, ever since you've started at Book & Nook the whole Cowell family became acutely aware of many of your disorders. By their record your longest time spent awake was ten days, you however adamantly say that you were an hour's mark away from ten full days so the longest you've been up is nine days in a row. And those are just the cases they know of since you've moved to Kepler.

Big Jo shook his head as a stern father would, which he is, “I have half the mind to send you home to rest.”

“That won't work.” you really don't mean to sound so coarse but it's so irritating having to go over this at least once a week.

“What about those gummy things Dia got you?”

“Long term that kind of stuff has no effect, sure it'll make me drowsie for an hour or two but even if it made me sleep one night I can't use it all the time. And before you ask the same questions again, caffeine has no real effect on me so limiting my intake will do nothing and weed doesn't do a thing for me either.” you state plainly, monotone as you present facts that everyone in the room already knows.

Looking at the stern face of Big Jo's and the exasperated face of Nate you continue, “I know it must be frustrating for you to not be able to help, but I'm content living like this. I like my late night adventures and when I do sleep it's really pleasant.”you threw in a smile for added comfort.

“Kid tha's not the point, there's somethin' wrong with you, medically I mean.” he's pinching the bridge of his nose, probably counting to ten to calm himself from raising his voice.

“Tons of people suffer from insomnia and there isn't anything a doctor could do for me except look for underlying conditions.” Big Jo's about to retort when you continue with, “Plus my dad and uncle both have insomnia as well so my case is due to the genetic lottery I lost.” You say with a hint of finality of your situation, you had to come to terms with this condition all the way back in high school. Having a decade to get used to your strange condition and the limitations it places on you from time to time. Whereas the Cowell family's only had two months to process this information, and you understand it'll take awhile before they stop being concerned. Same thing happened with you parents and friends back then too.

For now you're only met with more head shakes as if they were saying 'what are we going to do with you'. Leaving your medical issues aside Nate and Big Jo continue to talk shop, when the set up Nate just put on display catches Jo's eye.

Like lightening the tween was away from your side and by the new display shelf it looked like it held graphic novels. That's a first since you've been here, you walk over to join Jo knowing the second you do she'll start on about what's got her so excited. Most people might say you over indulge the child and coddle her but you actually just think it's really important to take interest in what makes kids happy. It helps them find their voices and also shows them that it's normal to get excited and like things.

“We got the TAZ graphic novels in?!” you hate rhetorical questions but smile and nod at her anyway.

“Have you read them? No, well you've listen to the podcast...what omg! Ok so there's these three brothers and their,” Jo begins regaling you with tales from the podcast known as The Adventure Zone and how fun they've made dungeons and dragons seem with their amazing story telling and funny characters.

You aren't sure if a show where the main group of heroes being called Tres Horny Bois is exactly age appropriate but when you look to Big Jo he kind of just shrugs it off. Turning you attention back to Jo who's now monologing about mongooses you just smile at the weird family you've found yourself in.

Let it be said that a tween with a slightly unhealthy fixation on something can find anyway to drag it back to that fixation. The day flew by with Jo explain the inner workings of dungeons and dragons, fifth edition, to you, her father, and her cousin after you mentioned why she didn't play. Apparently she'd love to but wanted a story fitting for her friend's to adventure. So being the good older cousin, father, and weird family friend you all were you came up with a story plot for her to use with her campaign.

The Jos had a lot of fun bonding over this little workshop and you guys even had food delivered so you and Nate could stay later. What was meant to just be a quick workshop turned into a mini family game night after you made several nearly impossible puzzles that wouldn't be used in Jo's campaign due to no one at the current table understanding how to solve it even after you showed them several times.

Overall it was fun and you think you might actually be tired enough to go to sleep tonight. You tried to stay and help clean up but Big Jo put his foot down and told you to go get some rest, he'd seen the way you occasionally look around the room as if something was moving behind them all. You may have started off as a cashier two months ago for him but his daughter has opened up a lot since meeting you and discovering that tics aren't so uncommon and there are people who wouldn't care or make a big deal out of them. Because of that you've earned your keep in his family, he already has you down on the list for Christmas cards.

Knowing you can't fight the six foot four man you roll your eyes and bid everyone good night, little Jo coming in to steal another hug from you and thank you for helping with her game. Checking on your skull you see the water's clear and dump it in the sink of the break room before leaving the skull to dry overnight, it's for sure gonna make Nate scream tomorrow, you can't help but chuckle at that.

Leaving through the back door and into the dusk colored parking lot you notice your trunk is popped open slightly. You definitely heard it shut earlier this morning. You blink before your head jerks to the right, unsettled by possibility of a break in and not risking it you head back inside.

“Hey, I think my car may have been broken into.” you stand awkwardly in the door way unsure of how to proceed.

Big Jo and Nate are out of the door as fast as they can. They find your car unlocked with the trunk popped, you know they weren't trying to brush you off when they asked several times if you did in fact lock your car this morning. After hearing your affirmative response each time, they began to inspect your car checking to make sure all wires are properly secured under the hood, Nate even retrieved the jack out of his own car to take a look under the car, ensuring the brakes hadn't been messed with. They started the car up just fine and it didn't appear tampered with. Even though nothing looked out of place and Nate's car, sitting in the same parking lot, hadn't been touched you appreciated them checking to make sure you were alright.

Knowing you're perceived as a woman by most, even outside of this small town, makes you uneasy when it comes to terms of abductions and violence. You know the chances and hear the stories whether it's from the victim's mouth or a podcaster's telling the story the dead can't. Nate offered to follow you home and make sure you were ok but you declined and said you'd call them both when you got home. Big Jo said to just call his home phone because Nate would be coming over tonight anyway, and if they didn't make it there before you called Dia was already at home and would pass the message along. You'll probably still try and give the shop a call if Dia answers, it wouldn't sit right with you if you wound everyone up just to not and at least try to settle their nerves.

With one final check of you car, the men even going so far as to lift seats up and feel under them, they sent you off. You drove carefully on the road tonight, ready to pull off into the shoulder at the slightest hint that something was wrong. Not even the radio was on something that you really didn't like driving without, but if there was the chance for you to catch a shift in tone of the machine you wanted to. Eventually you did end up making it home in one piece and you had called the Cowell family home, from the safety of your car, and got a spazztic eleven year old asking if you'd made it home alright. It took a little bit of coaxing but Little Jo calmed down and shouted to her parents that you were on the phone and alright.

“Kid,” looks like Big Jo took the phone away from Little Jo, “Everything ok on the drive.” Big Jo could hear the movement and shutting of your car door, he'd have to say he was relieved you waited until you were on the phone before exiting. He knew you lived out past the quiet zone in Old Lydia's house. A fact that did little for the unease he felt when he thought you were being watched.

“Oh, yea drive was fine, too quiet but fine.” you said simply as you began circling the cottage. Nothing seemed out of place on the outside, even looking above eye level where people tended to get sloppy in stalking or home invasion cases, everything seemed fine.

“Hope you don't mind if I keep you for a bit.” You had just unlocked your door and stepped in.

“Nah, kid 's fine.” you give a hum of acknowledgment as you look through the kitchen in cabinets, under cupboards, and even under the table.

“You're a smart kid.” he's taken that fatherly overtone that makes you roll your eyes. You understand the sentiment of parents and parental figures having pride in their child or ward but it's always been so weird to you when they feel the need to bring it up. Especially when they bring it up in situations that are dangerous, like can you not make it sound like someone's about to die.

Finding nothing in the living room, hall closet or bathroom you make sure all the windows are locked and dowels are in place to keep them from opening. And you double check that both the back and front doors are secured. You can hear the hushed whispers on the other end of the line, Dia must have just found out about your car, as you rustle through your kitchen utensil drawers taking out two forks before you make your way to your bedroom.

Once in your room you checked your closet and under your bed. Finding nothing you went to the window in your room, the one right by your bed, you checked the lock, secured it in place with two dowels, and then covered it throwing a thick blanket over the curtain rod to ensure no one would be viewing you in your sleep or the precautions you were about to do. Turing around and locking your bedroom door you then jam one fork into the closed door crease, right below the locking mechanism, and jammed the other fork perpendicular through the prongs. You attempted to open the door with all your weight but only could get an inch in before the forks would stop more movement.

“Kid you alright over there?” it's rushed, he probably heard the commotion with your make shift lock.

“Yea, just had to add another lock to the door.” you trust the Cowell's but you understand how stupid it'd be to let them know exactly how you were defending yourself. Even if it wasn't them there's no telling if the person who broke into your car was outside and just good at hiding. You could also be too jumpy from your true crime shows but you figure it's better to be safe.

“I think everything's good Big Jo.” taking a final glance around your room eye's landing on the bed, “Think I'm even ready to go to sleep tonight too.” a small half laugh leaves your mouth.

“Alright kid, you call if you need anything got it.” it's an order not a request.

“Got it, good night.” Big Jo might think that'd been rude coming from anyone else but from you he can only roll his eyes at the brevity and the dial tone he's met with. He has his own sweep to do, if they were targeting his employee there was a reason. He hasn't had any problems since coming to Kepler but someone always eventually comes along who can't take a hint.

Even combing through your home with Big Jo on the line you didn't feel safe having your bed by the window anymore and moved it away and in front of the closet door. You'd rearrange your room later but for tonight this would have to do. By some grace of god you were actually able to shut your brain down tonight and rest. Maybe it was the excitement and merriment from hanging out with the Cowells or more likely the situation you find yourself in of perhaps being a target for something insidious.

Whatever the case may be you are off to the land of dreams before you know it. And unbeknownst to you the same eyes from this morning watch your home. They may not have seen what you did in there but they'd be sure to catch you when you come out. They'll wait all night to catch you if they have to.

#creepypasta fanfic #proxies x reader #proxies #masky x reader #masky x hoodie #hoodie x reader #ticci tobyx reader #timothy wright x reader #brian thomas x reader #masky #hoodie #ticci toby #ticcitoby #timothy wright #brian thomas #reader insert #reader #readerinsert

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adhdtoomanycommas · 4 years

Text

ADHD, Gifted Programs, and Accidental Accommodations

So one big thing has been on my mind pretty consistently since I got diagnosed last year at the age of 30—why did it take so long to figure this out? At no point in my K-12 education or my 4 year bachelor’s degree schooling did any teacher or counselor question or suggest I may have ADHD, despite the fact that I check nearly every single box on every diagnostic criteria (both inattentive and hyperactive!)

One obvious reason is sexism. Pretty early in my reading on the subject, I learned that ADHD is dramatically under-diagnosed in girls and women. Partly this is because of different presentations, but a lot of it is just that the stereotype people have in their heads of what an ADHD kid looks like is always a boy.

But the other big reason, and the one I want to talk about today, is the fact that one of the few ADHD diagnostic boxes that I didn’t check was “bad grades.” So really, the question is, why weren’t my grades bad?

That’s not to say I was especially good at school work. My backpacks, desks, and binders were always a complete mess, and I NEVER did the homework. I would do the big projects (at the last possible second, of course) but daily homework just straight up didn’t happen. If there was time left at the end of class I would sometimes quickly do the homework for the next day, and occasionally jot down some approximation of it in the minute or two before class started, but when I was actually at home, I never touched it.

But here’s the thing with ADHD brains: We can focus on things with no problem, as long as we find them interesting. And I’ve always read quickly enough that doing the reading for class was usually interesting. And for the most part, the class content itself usually seemed interesting enough. But probably most importantly, I consider tests interesting. There’s always been enough of a challenge racing-the-clock game-like aspect to them to me that I would stay engaged on the tests, and even if didn’t completely know the material, I was good at using logic to get a pretty good guess (like using all those tricks they teach for standardized tests—narrowing down the options on a multiple choice question, looking for answers in the other questions, etc.)

So even in the classes where turning in the daily homework counted for part of the grade (math and language classes mostly) I was usually able to scrape a B with only the occasional C thrown in, and everything else was A’s.

But part of my saving grace was the “gifted” classes. I was very lucky that, despite not knowing about her own (probable) ADHD, my mom knew enough about how she worked as a student to know that me (and my brother) really needed to be engaged and challenged in order to thrive. Because of this, she advocated for us hard—she insisted we be allowed in my elementary school’s “gifted” program in kindergarten (based on our test scores of course) even though the “gifted” program officially wasn’t even available until first grade. And when we moved to a different state, she advocated for us again and got us included even though the “gifted” class was “full.” She knew that nothing would make us fail faster than being bored in class, so she made sure that there was at least one day a week when we would be challenged and actually get to engage with material we found interesting.

Aside, despite how essential they were for me to thrive in school, the entire concept of “gifted” programs and “gifted” kids is problematic as hell. Half of the screening is basically just looking for class signifiers and seeing whose parents had enough free time to give them a head start (or whose parents have the time to advocate for their kids the way my mom did for me). Not to mention there’s likely a massive racial bias. So in all this discussion of why I did ok despite my ADHD, it’s important to note that there’s a lot of privilege at play here determining who gets access to these types of programs.

This is also why I keep putting “gifted” in quotes-- I don’t think there is anything inherent about academic ability. Also, academic ability, reading ability, testing aptitude, etc. are definitely not indicative of intelligence. Plus the entire concept of the measurability of intelligence is based on eugenics ideas, so clearly one should take the whole thing with a huge grain of salt.

Nowadays the term all the parenting blogs like to use for kids like me, with ADHD (or dyslexia, or autism, or whatever else) who also test well enough to be flagged as “gifted,” is “Twice Exceptional” which is a term that makes me immediately want to punch whoever uses it. Seriously, it makes me gag. Like, it doubles down on the “special” euphemism and seems entirely designed to make parents feel better about their kid without any consideration to how the kid feels. No kid wants to be singled out, especially one who’s already probably pretty socially isolated (which I could digress about but that’ll be another essay for another day), and being Twice singled out certainly doesn’t help anything.

But ultimately the teaching in the “gifted” class itself wound up being really good accommodations for ADHD. I wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if they were better than the accommodations in the separate classes actually intended for kids with ADHD and other learning issues, though since I wasn’t diagnosed as I kid I can’t actually speak to that as I don’t have any experience there. But in the gifted classes, firstly, we were given more specific subjects as opposed to the overviews we got in regular classes. And it’s way easier to be engaged on specific subjects like ice age mammals, or the wreck of the Titanic, than it is to be engaged with a broad list of dates or categories. We did logic problems that were presented as games, but that were indirectly teaching us the basics for higher level math. In 6th grade, we did research projects and got to pick our own subjects completely, so we could write about whatever we were hyperfixating on at the moment (mine was on medieval warfare as depicted in the Bayeux tapestry). And if we happened to get excited and blurt out an interesting fact vaguely related to whatever was being discussed, that was likely encouraged instead of reprimanded like it would be in the normal classroom. This continued into high school, as honors and AP level classes tended to be a lot more discussion based rather than the top-down approach at other levels, as well as affording more opportunity to choose one’s own subjects.

The story you’ll hear from (or about) a lot of ADHD kids (especially undiagnosed) flagged as “gifted” is of hitting a wall at some point, academically speaking. That did happen to me briefly, in middle school. We started being assigned a lot more long-term projects, and there was a bit of a learning curve while I figured out how to put things off Until the last minute and not Past the last minute. But thanks to some patient teachers who believed in me (which I might not have had outside of honors classes), I managed to pull out of it and improve my grades (with the exception of the only report-card F of my entire academic career, from a sadistic gym teacher who seemed to think that enough berating would cure asthma).

Even more stories I’ve read and heard from people who were diagnosed with ADHD as an adult say they hit that wall academically when they started college—the first time they were really self-guided in their studies. But again, there, I was saved by an honors program. In this case, it was the Honors Tutorial College, a truly strange program at Ohio University. I was tracked into HTC by one particular professor who very much wanted HTC to expand into the art program and decided that because I had both strong test scores and a strong art portfolio (and probably, lets be real, because I was the daughter of one of the other professors) that I was the perfect person to be the first student in the new program.

OU’s website describes HTC as “flexible curriculum and one-on-one tutorials with renowned faculty that allow your curiosity to take the lead in your education.” It’s rigorous, but comes with a lot of perks, like waiving certain gen-ed classes, being able to take classes without first taking the required prerequisites, and designing one’s own independent study classes individually with instructors. And those perks are (as far as I know entirely accidentally) the perfect accommodations for an ADHD student (and probably pretty good for Autistic ones as well, based on some of my peers in the program).

A lot of the gen-ed classes I waived were ones I probably would have been bored in and thusly not done well. Being able to skip pre-reqs meant that, for instance, for my English requirements I was able to take far more interesting classes like Shakespeare’s Comedies, YA Lit, and Playwriting instead of English 101, 102 etc. If I wanted to learn about something in particular, I had help finding a professor willing to help me in an independent study/tutorial class. Being the pilot of the program meant I was able to shape it so that I could get an art degree without ever having to choose one medium (which as far as I know is still an option for anyone pursuing an HTC Studio Art degree). And at the end of the program, when we were required to complete a massive thesis project and paper (at basically graduate level), not only could I choose my subject to meet my hyperfixations, but I had individual help from a professor keeping me on task on the less-fun parts at every step of the way.

HTC students are required to keep their GPAs above a high threshold. At one point one of my grades (in Latin class) was low enough to hurt my average, and I was called into HTC headquarters for a check-in meeting. I was asked why my grade had fallen, and I explained that the class wasn’t that interesting (at that level it was mostly grammar) but that it was getting better as we were moving up into translating more actual historical material. That explanation was entirely accepted. Imagine if “it’s not interesting enough” was considered a valid excuse for grades slipping for everyone, how much less stressful school would be for ADHD kids!

So ultimately it’s pretty much been having the luck and privilege to get myself flagged for “gifted” classes that kept my grades up throughout my school years. Accidental accommodations have continued into my adult life as well. At my most recent office job, for instance (which I lost due to covid layoffs), I had a pretty hands-off boss who just didn’t care if I doodled, got up to stretch my legs every once in a while, and listened to audiobooks at my desk all day as long as the work got done.

I didn’t need a diagnosis to get these accommodations, because they were given freely, which meant I was able to succeed even without knowing about my own ADHD. If I had been diagnosed, and had had to ask for accommodations, I wonder if I would have done as well as bias against people with ADHD means people wouldn’t have expected as much from me.

So if you’ve made it this far, I’ll ask for the same for others that I got for myself. If you are a teacher (or a manager in an office setting), I strongly encourage you to consider how to make your classroom, office, etc. more accessible in general, without someone having to disclose a diagnosis or be singled out for accommodations. The biggest easiest one you can do is to allow (or even encourage) doodling in lecture settings. Even for neurotypicals, there have been plenty of studies proving people retain information better when doodling, so everyone should know by now that someone doodling doesn’t mean they’re not listening. If at all possible, encourage discussion and contribution. Give everyone breaks to stretch and move around. And give as much freedom as possible on what to learn about. You might be surprised what people are capable of when these reasonable steps are taken to give everyone room to thrive.

That’s all for now, hopefully you got something out of this unwieldy ramble. I’d be curious to hear if you’ve run into any accidental accommodations in your life and how they’ve helped. Until next time!

#actuallyadhd #Actually ADHD #adhd #gifted kids #former gifted kid

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aroworlds · 4 years

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What Makes Us Human, Part Two

Moll of Sirenne needs prompts in their girdle book to navigate casual conversations, struggles to master facial expressions and feels safest weeding the monastery's vegetable gardens. Following their call to service, however, means offering wanderers in need a priest's support and guidance. A life free of social expectation to court, wed and befriend does outweigh their fear of causing harm—until forgetting the date of a holiday provokes a guest's ire and three cutting words: lifeless and loveless.

A priest must expand a guest's sense of human worth, but what do they do when their own comes under question? Can an autistic, aromantic priest ever expect to serve outside the garden? And what day is it...?

Contains: A middle-aged, agender priest set on defying social norms around love; an alloromantic guest with a journey to undergo in conquering her amatonormativity and ableism; and an elderly aromantic priest providing irascible reassurance.

Content Advisory: Depictions and discussions of ableism, amatonormativity and dehumanisation, particularly with regards to autism and aromanticism. Please expect additional background references to partner abuse and dysfunctional relationships, along with a side mention of magic causing harm to animals. This piece also includes reflections on non-romantic love's being pushed as a second-best "humanising" quality on non-partnerning, aplatonic and neurodiverse aros.

Length: 4, 946 words (part one of two).

Note: This is the newest entry in my tradition of Not Valentine’s Day Aro Stories posted on Valentine’s Day. No familiarity with my other Marchverse stories is needed, although it does obliquely nod at events referenced in Love is the Reckoning.

Will you ignore their need of someone their own to reassure them that they are so wonderfully and deservedly human?

Moll checks that she follows and, wordlessly, heads towards the guest common room. Their heart thrums in their chest; they fight to slow their heaving ribs. What will they do if Gennifer isn’t finished with what caused her to miss breakfast? What if … shades, can’t they send an acolyte to find her or Oki? Waiting with James won’t lack unpleasantness, but Moll needn’t engage her in conversation. They can keep their silence while a brown-robe hunts down a senior priest.

Breathe.

For good or ill, they are both decided to follow a new path.

Gennifer, fortunately, sits in one of several armchairs, frowning down at the ledger in her lap. Two acolytes tidying feel more like shadows than occupants in a vast room of redwood tables and bookshelves, all crammed with books, games, paper, pencils and paints. Pots filled with trailing ferns hang from the high rafters, lending the room a touch of Sirenne’s soil-and-leaflitter scent; the large slate tiles, polished smooth and set close together, feel cool under Moll’s bare feet. Large windows reveal the gardens between wings, permitting light enough that demarcations of “outside” and “inside” lose relevance.

She closes the book and looks up, her thick brows raised. Moll has long learnt better than to voice these observations, but Gennifer resembles her pet chicken—a round, fat woman with nut-brown skin and hair, the latter trimmed to a fine fuzz covering her scalp and neck. The red robes, belted with an advising priest’s green sash, pick up the reddish tinge in the hen’s feathers; the neat way she tucks her arms at her sides, her hands drawn up by her chest, resembles the hen’s wings. No quality will so provoke this comparison if not for Gennifer’s mothering of anyone, guest or priest, she judges in need.

“May we converse in private?” Moll asks, turning their head to ensure that James follows them into the room. “Thank you.”

She stands a few paces off, tucking her hand—the tip of one finger smeared with her lip paint—behind her back.

The acolytes down their books and retreat to the hallway.

“What is it?” Gennifer waves at the chair opposite her table. “Sit down. Can I get you a cup of tea? A biscuit?”

“No. James has the opinion … that I can’t relate to their experiences. She wishes the guidance of another priest.” Only a lifetime of practice allows Moll to keep their voice flat and calm. “I don’t wish to cause her any further distress, so I ask that you assign her to someone of a more … suitable nature.”

Only the slightest shift of brow mars Gennifer’s quiet smile. “I see. Is this the case, James?”

How can Gennifer, as careful and controlled as most of Sirenne’s priests, so evade accusations of lifelessness? What difference exists between her expression and theirs? Why can’t Moll see, recognise and imitate it?

James hesitates for long enough that Moll wonders if she’s beset by a change of heart, but at length she nods and takes the offered chair. “Yes. Please. They don’t even know what day it is! They just ask pointless question after question, all stiff and wooden. How am I supposed to get anywhere with a priest that remembers nothing normal?”

She doesn’t mention, Moll thinks with a nauseating bitterness, that she accused all priests of such ignorance. They may not know what the date means, how better to have approached James’s guiding or why only Gennifer’s questions are worth answering, but they know one thing: their control teeters on collapse’s edge.

They bow, turn and stride to the doorway.

“It’s difficult,” Gennifer says with a non-committal softness, “to feel as though—”

Moll quickens their step, their red robes flapping about their calves. Another pair of acolytes enter the hallway, stop and abruptly reverse direction as though afraid to tangle with a priest in a temper. They fist their hands until their fingers ache, but their shoulders shake and their chest heaves. Why did they entertain the delusion that their thick, autistic body, with its oversized hands and stern face, can ever be anything but threatening?

How much more damage need they cause before accepting the truth?

The feel of grass beneath their soles and the strengthening of the rich damp-earth smell tells Moll that they’ve left the building for one of the gardens. Rows of mulched corn, peas and beans grow in a sunny section of the monastery, angled away from the greenhouse. The gardens weren’t their intention, at least insofar that they possessed any, but a riot of unwanted seedlings sprout from the pea straw’s seeds, diverting water and nutrients from the vegetables. The acolytes are a few days behind in their weeding. Good enough.

Moll—ignored by the priest and guests tending the greenhouse’s tomatoes—grabs a bucket and a trowel, kneels by the first pea-festooned trellis and starts pulling up weeds.

There’s no glamour in weeding, no proud presentation of the literal fruits of one’s labour. New weeds poke through the soil and mulch almost as soon as one finishes, and, as in laundry and dishwashing, Moll never finds the satisfaction of conclusion. A garden always provides distraction, however, and nobody stopped to marvel at a quartermaster’s labour. Why expect it now?

Peace, instead, lies in the feel of damp earth clinging to bare feet, the patter of water falling on green leaves, the smell of sun warming soil and straw, the pop as a root pulls free from its earthen cradle. Moll’s trembling fingers fight to gently prise weeds from the bed and shake soil from their roots, but they put their rage into their shoulder as they hurl each into the bucket left at the end of the row.

Pull, shake, throw.

Pop, patter, thwack.

Isn’t this suitable work? If their labour allows Gennifer to guide James by providing the food eaten by priests, acolytes and guests, how aren’t they following their calling?

Pop, patter, smack.

“Do all of those require pulling?”

They jerk, straighten and turn, started to find the Guide sitting in her wheelchair only an arm’s length distant, her attendant idling with a book at the other end of the row. She’s a small woman with white hair gone yellow, sunken cheeks and bony limbs; “elderly” suggests more youth than she shows. Her green robe, belted with red, catches the light through some trickery of weave; a darker green blanket, knit from witched wool, sits over her lap, although the summer warmth permits her to bare both marked shoulders. A ball of yarn, two knitting needles and a toe and heel in progress rests in the valley between her knees. Based on Moll’s infrequent glimpses of her work about the monastery, she too prefers her hands busy, perhaps despite her swollen knuckles.

She looks like a stiff breeze will blow her out of her chair, but she reminds Moll of a century-dead tree, its roots grown so deep that its trunk and limbs survive drought and cyclone.

They drop their plant and, suddenly aware of their aching shoulders and back, bow to Sirenne’s most senior priest.

“Oh, stop. Sit up and stay sit up. Sat up? Whatever.” The Guide sighs and peers down at Moll. “Aren’t your back and knees breaking? I’m hurting just looking at you.”

Moll realises then that they’ve worked down the row and halfway across the bed. Small bits of seed and gravel dig into their knees through the thin linen of their summer robe; their legs, beset with an unnatural stiffness, fight their attempts to sit. “I’m sorry, sir, for my unsupp—”

The Guide raises both hands and claps her fingers to her thumb in the gesture meant to indicate a bird’s opening beak—usually made to mock a person prone to gossip. If she owns something as ordinary as a shroudname, Moll has never heard it mentioned. She’s just the Guide, the leader of her flock on their journey to … well, the Sojourner isn’t the sort of god that provides clarity. No bright heaven or dark hell; just the bewildering grey of somewhere.

Moll dislikes those vague, unspecific words.

“I’m sorry for abandon—”

She repeats the gesture several times, fingertip smacking against thumb.

“I’m … sorry?”

Moll has heard the monastery’s gossip about the Guide, but they didn’t expect … well, this.

“Stop it with the drivel.” The Guide sighs and shakes her head. “If you apologise again, I’ll send you to shadow with the calling-year acolytes. Don’t think I won’t!”

Just the thought of taking lessons with Ro and Alicia has Moll closing their mouth with a teeth-clacking snap. Moll’s calling-year included a grandparent twice their age, but Ro’s year leans young, and they can’t say that they’ll enjoy being so subjected to the acolytes’ discussions, explosions, giggles, jibes and pranks. Moll endured enough of that in the army, irritated even when they were of the customary age to partake!

Is this the Guide’s way of saying that Moll needs those lessons?

Are their missteps with James so serious that Gennifer went to the Guide?

“Moll?”

They sit up, rolling their shoulders back in a vain attempt to ease their stiffness. “I don’t think I need those lessons refreshed,” they say, hoping that their tone doesn’t convey their stomach’s nervous roiling. A priest shouldn’t be afraid to admit fault. How can one help guide another in open-hearted curiosity while bound to an unfailing sense of correctness? “I think I’ll do better in the gardens or the stables. Wherever you believe my work most needed.”

Not that Moll has done an exemplary job with the garden, given the halo of uprooted-and-thrown plants surrounding the bucket.

“Really?” The Guide sighs, looking down at Moll with raised eyebrows. “Because I came here to tell a guiding priest to pick the gravel from their knees, wash up and hop to the infirmary to be briefed on a guest’s needs from his new priest.”

Moll frowns. The infirmary? A guest’s new priest? “Another guest—”

“No! You want to specialise in the arts of weed pulling and shit shovelling! Far be it from me to stop a priest from following their road—even if that road takes them five clicks backwards.” The Guide shrugs and nestles her hands in her lap. “I’m sure there’s another priest with curiosity, patience and directness to help guide a guest as much harmed by Sirenne as the world—another priest that finds equal confusion in tedious definitions of normality. Gennifer’s unexpectedly busy—what about Oki?”

They stiffen, their eyes resting on the thick, bobbled stockings covering the Guide’s unshod feet. “I don’t understand,” Moll murmurs, beset with too many curiosities to untangle but certain that few priests have referenced Sirenne’s harming a guest. “If I knew what you’re referencing, perhaps I could say…? But … I don’t want to distress another guest, and someone must muck the stables.”

After all, she may as well be referencing Moll’s treatment of James.

The Guide stares at Moll, her brow furrowed, her expression well beyond their conjecture. “I think,” she says at length, “you should explain the source of your newfound enthusiasm for regression.”

By now, narrating a discussion with a guest to a senior priest feels habitual. Moll exhales, hissing their breath over their teeth, before beginning with the dining hall, backtracking to explain their anxiety and James’s prior behaviours, and continuing with the courtyard conversations.

Their voice, steady during all manner of absurd, eldritch and horrifying goings-on in their fifteen years with Seventh, wobbles on the words “loveless” and “lifeless”.

“…so I did the inappropriate thing of leaving without allowing for proper explanation or facilitation of—”

“Nep, nep, nep.” The Guide beaks her fingers thrice; Moll, startled, falls silent. “Drivel. You cluck worse than Gennifer’s chicken. That you can work on—tell Gennifer or your calling-year priests that you want them to help you learn to stop clucking.” She sighs and shakes her head. “You assumed yourself the cause of her mood. James felt distressed by spending Lovers’ Day separated from her partner and took offense to your thinking you’d caused offense. She wanted you to simply offer sympathy, believing her situation abundantly self-evident and unneedful of explanation.”

How many times, over the course of a life, have allistics and alloromantics driven them to aghast speechlessness at their absence of rationality? Lovers’ Day is but a petty holiday borrowed from Astreuch tradition, something about which the Sojourner says nothing. Moll doesn’t care enough to recollect its existence, but neither will they disparage or dismiss her pain—if only she mentioned the holiday when asked!

Sirenne should offer sanctuary, but they’re still caught up in the mess caused by love’s assumption, expectation and conformity.

Even here, they’re still rendered less than human.

“I … asked why…” Moll shakes their head, turns and pulls up another weed. “I don’t understand that. None of it. So I belong out here.”

“I didn’t say it was reasonable. It isn’t any more reasonable than your current occupational decision.” The Guide barks a laugh. “But since when do we expect guests to bring reason with them? They don’t. We help them find it.”

They don’t know what word names the mood that has Moll wrench, twist and fling a seeding somewhere towards the bucket before looking up at the Guide. “How could I have—”

“You should have,” the Guide says, her words soft, “taken her to Gennifer as soon as her judgement turned personal. You didn’t need to tolerate that half as long as you did. Take her to someone who gives her fewer excuses and isn’t bearing bruises the world never lets heal. No garden so needs weeding that you should be breaking your body, afterwards, to survive the punches you thought you had to let her throw.”

They sit up, bunching their robes over their legs. Her words ring of bewildering improbability, an unexpected response—like the giving of their girdle book, the leather cover now speckled with dirt and mulch—wildly contradictory to the world’s usual rules and processes. Ideal, certainly, but not in practice true.

“I’m meant,” Moll says slowly, “to be able to do my work. I can’t give every allistic or alloromantic guest to Gennifer because they don’t make se—”

“We both know you won’t ask that another priest take on a guest’s care because you don’t understand their reasoning, but you should if they don’t respect your humanity!” The Guide waves her hand towards the great hall. “How, if you break yourself dealing with every guest assigned to you, are you going to give your best service to the next agender, aromantic or autistic guest walking up our driveway? What if there’s someone there in need of you? Can you, right now, serve as they need?”

They freeze, open-mouthed.

Never did Moll think to look at their work from that angle.

“There wouldn’t be that many—”

“Drivel. Most of the priests not us can handle James. Gennifer, though, isn’t aromantic. She’s kind, sweet and open-minded, certainly—and that’s better than nothing. But she doesn’t speak from a place of knowing. We do. And now, you can give someone something neither of us had—a guiding priest who knows in the heart. Can’t you imagine what that must feel like?” She sighs, her crow’s voice cracking. “Some guests won’t be suited to your strengths, but they’ll respect your humanity. Some won’t suit you, and you’ll make sure they’re cared for by someone they’re less likely to harm. And others, yet unknowing, need you. Will you, Moll, ignore their need of someone their own to reassure them that they are so wonderfully and deservedly human—no matter what the world says?”

Moll draws a breath, the hairs on their forearms raised, their body alert and quivering. Despite the near-cloudless sky, they look up, searching for lightning; the air crackles with that wild, dangerous energy. They hoped, five years ago, to return this gift Gennifer offered to a discharged quartermaster stripped of home and place. The gift of reframing the world, tossing about all long-held expectations so one can put aside the misunderstandings and follow a new turning. The gift, a chance to see everything anew, they couldn’t offer James.

A gift, perhaps, they can still offer someone else—because she’s right, something Moll didn’t realise until she said the word “us”.

They didn’t know that they’d waited forty-four years to receive that gift from their own—to be affirmed human by their kin’s reckoning.

The garden shouldn’t be the entirety of their service.

“That’s better.” The Guide gives a small, satisfied nod. “You’ve forgotten, I think, that in your first year, we learn how best you work with guests. Knowing that better, now, I need you in the infirmary to work with a guest who also didn’t pair well with his first priest—a guest who needs you, not Oki. Or will you mumble about weeds and manure?”

Moll shakes their head. No, not on their life or name!

“Good. Get up, have a long bath, scrub your fingernails, eat a late lunch and then present yourself to Thanh. Tell hir that I sent you to be Esher’s new guiding priest and ze must explain to you the magic. I doubt he’ll be any kind of conscious today, so you have time to dawdle.”

What happened last night? “Magic? Conscious?”

“Thanh will tell you. Go. I’ve got too many priests yet to talk to.”

Far too curious to surrender to bewilderment, Moll bows their head, grabs their trowel and scrambles upright just as the Guide waves her hand to her attendant. “Thank you. Sir. Thank you.” They turn for their bucket, freeze and spin back to face the Guide. “Sir, can I ask something?”

“Yes, quickly, but it had better not be clucking.”

They don’t know what she means by “clucking”, but they’ll ask Gennifer and Oki. “If you weren’t guiding guests when I came, why…?”

“Why didn’t I guide you, you mean?” The Guide shrugs. “I don’t guide guests or teach the acolytes. I’m perceptive and intelligent, they told me, but disastrously blunt. Now, after years in the kitchens, I guide the priests—once you’re educated enough in yourself that I needn’t dance around my words.” She hesitates. “I think, perhaps, there’s some acolytes I should have taught. But I do know the worth and the necessity in ensuring my own number in the priests that follow me.”

“I think you guide well,” Moll says quietly. “For me, if nobody else.”

Their own expressions aren’t given to smiling, but the Guide’s broadening lips, perhaps, speak for them both.

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dionysus-is-my-dude · 5 years

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So I’ve been crying for the last 2 hours all because of one class...

My payroll accounting class is so hard. I don’t understand how one class can be so hard for me. There’s so MUCH homework. And the exam...I completely failed it. 60/120 points. I wasn’t able to use my textbook. I wasn’t able to study. I was given no information to help me solve problems so I was forced to use the internet as a guide. None of my answers were right, so I had to pick the next best guess. I guessed on over half the problems. And I failed. I can take it again, but it’s due at 11:59 PM tonight and there’s other homework, too, that’s due today, but I’m just so fucking done. So fucking done with this class. I wasn’t able to check my work at all. I wasn’t able to utilize any kind of resource outside of google, and I probably should have just outright cheated and looked up every single question but I’m such a stickler for academic honesty that I let myself just go with my best guess. Look where that got me. An F.

I could take it again, but the thought of spending another two hours on that bullshit without any way to check my answers like on the homework makes me want to throw up. I refuse to do the other assignment tonight. Maybe I’ll do it tomorrow if I feel up to it, but the stress of this class is killing me. I refuse to do any more online classes. The sheer amount of work involved in each assignment is ridiculous to put on one full-time student with three other classes and a job, especially when I have disabilities that hinder me greatly.

I know this fucking class means nothing in the long run. If I do well on all the homework, then I’m sure I’ll pass with at least a C. I have three more months of this bullshit until the semester is over. And then I still have another year to go to get my degree. I don’t know how much longer I can take this. I don’t know how I can possibly keep this up for another year. Why did I force myself to do this? Two more years of schooling for what? Another Associate’s? I thought I was gonna go work for a big name company and make barely enough to get by. But now my dad wants me to work for him, which means he won’t give a shit about my grades. He just wants me to know what I’m doing. But in the real world, you have resources when you’re working on something. On exams, you have none, and that baffles me. Exams test your memory. Well, what do you do if you have memory problems? Huh?

I feel so sick. I know it’s because I’m a perfectionist and failing is like death for me, but right now, it hurts so fucking much that I did so BADLY on an exam. How the fuck was I supposed to memorize four chapters worth of information? Who the fuck is capable of something that boring? Are neurotypicals capable of that? The American educational system is catered to them! I don’t have any disability aids that I can use because, even though my psychiatrist has explicitly said I have ADD -and I need to talk to her about the autism-, I have never been formally evaluated or given any accommodations. So what the fuck am I supposed to do other than do my best on all the other assignments and just fucking bomb the exams, which are worth more?

I’m sorry. I’m extremely stressed. I feel like every time I do homework or take a test, I lose a year of my lifespan due to the stress alone. I’m amazed I didn’t have a panic attack when i saw my score. The excessive crying probably helped.

Ending this on a good note. School is bullshit. The majority of stuff you learn is absolutely useless unless it’s catered directly to your career. Don’t let numbers define your intellect. You’re smart, just not in the way our system thinks you should be. I know I’m smart. I know I’m able to retain information about things I’m extremely passionate about, but every single thing I’m learning is so boring that my brain just immediately forgets it. Value your mental health above your grade. Your health matters a thousand times more than any paper. Give your best and the rest doesn’t matter.

#personal #rant #sorry for the rant #i hate homework #i hate school #college

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amarantine-amirite · 5 years

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The Butterfly Effect

if you read a lot of time travel books, then you're probably pretty familiar with the butterfly effect. It's the idea of small action having really large consequences later on in life. People often think about how going back in time and stepping on a bug alter the course of history, but they don't think of little tiny things they can do today that can alter the future in ways that they never imagined.

I'm aware of that. I'm aware of how little decisions today can make big changes in the future. I know, because I've experienced to myself. I don't care what area my parents or any of my friends say; who I am now can be traced back to Valentine's Day when I was 9 years old.

the year was 9 years old, Valentine's Day fell on a Saturday. It was also the Saturday the my dad decided to take me to something called Lunch Bunch. for those who that don't know Lunch Bunch is a program that is meant to help kids on the autism spectrum with their social skills in a fun environment. Sure was the problem with that: the concept of the Lunch Bunch program seemed great on paper. But the problem was it was hosted in a noisy, cramped, and possibly leaking portable and the aides who were helping the autistic kids with their social skills were pretty young (and bratty. In fact I was starting to think that none of them were older than high school age, and that the only reason they were there was because they were serving community service as a punishment for something). It was a disaster. A couple of fights broke out, actually.

I don't think it's fair to make kids volunteer for anything related to helping people disabilities as a punishment. If you do that, they will start to see people with disabilities has a burden instead of, you know, people. Yet that's the case. The more I think about it, the more I think the the Lunch Bunch thing school setup was designed to be a punishment for the kids that were acting as the aides. They held it at 7 AM. It was in the middle of winter, and the portable it was held in didn't have much in the way of heat. It wasn't fair to the people that needed the Lunch Bunch to help their social skills, but that's how it was. And if it hadn't been for that, I think my social skills would have been much better. I would have it in better with my peers. I would have been more confident. I would be about 40 to 50 pounds thinner. I would not have failed 11th grade. I would not have quit high school. I would be a totally different Diana.

It sounds ridiculous, but its true. Everything that has happened to me that has ended in failure can all be traced back to that disastrous Lunch Bunch.

The fight the broke out during the Lunch Bunch that cause this entire fiasco was something out of a different world. And the only reason it started was because the people who were volunteering at the Lunch Bunch we're only there because they had to. Because they were being punished. Worse, they took it out on us, the people who Lunch Bunch was supposed to help. When it came time to pick up our meal, they decided that they would call us up by birth month to pick up our food. I was born in February, but they never called that month (I later found out that those of us who were at Lunch Bunch that were born in February weren't the only one that had this problem. June, July, and November were also never called). Which meant I didn't get my food. I was starving. It was so bad that I walked up to someone else's plate and picked up a couple of their tater tots when their backs were turned.

The aide sitting at the head of the table saw me. "Hey, greedy" she barked, "that isn't yours to take!" I responded in a calm and civilized manner by giving her the middle finger.

"Do you fucking want a piece of me?!" She bellowed, "because your pasty ass is going to get it!!!" She wasn't kidding around. She had a fork, and was prepared to throw it at me.

I don't know what possessed me to quote Clint Eastwood but that moment, but I sent to her, "Go ahead, chubby. Make my day" now that I think about it, maybe I was trying to be funny. If I was, then I don't think it worked. All the aide did was get mad at throw the fork. It didn't hit me, but it did hit a parent.

I could go on about how ticked they were. But, for now, I’ll just say a fight broke out. The fight was insane. People were throwing chairs, the volunteers were boxing each other; and I have a weird feeling that some of the parents were slamming each other against the walls. It didn’t feel like something that would happen at Lunch Bunch. If anything, it felt like something that would happen in a bar after some guy made a pass at a biker’s girlfriend. Despite how manic the fight was, nobody called the cops until about three hours into the whole thing.

It did not get better when the cops arrived. The first question they asked was, “Who started this?” The aide that threw the fork pointed at me.

I don't really remember what happened after that. But, it doesn't really matter. That disastrous day at that Lunch Bunch, change my life forever. And not in a good way.

Most people say I failed the 11th grade because I was some combination of lazy and stupid. they don't understand the events leading up to it though. They don't understand the concept of a cascading failure. That disastrous Lunch Bunch set in motion a chain of events that led to one catastrophe after another. If I heard someone else describe it to me, I would think they were making it up. I am not making this up in any way. and I don't care how convoluted it sounds, and I don't care what anybody else says; but it was that disastrous Lunch Bunch that made me fail the 11th grade and ultimately quit high school.

The first place that things went horrifically wrong was in 5th grade. I did string band back then (I played the guitar) and I moved up from Beginner B (which is ages 6 to 9) to Lower Intermediate (ages 10 to 12). Since they were planning to phase out paper sheet music that year, everyone starting in lower intermediate had to do ear training. I guess the expectation was that everybody would develop absolute pitch so that they could play back the assigned pieces of music just by listening to them rather than using the sheet music as a guide. Things went wrong because the ear training instructor was the mother of the girl who threw the fork at the Lunch Bunch. I could tell right away that she felt the the whole thing was my fault, even though it was her kid that through the fork. I could tell she maintained it was my fault because I was the one that drove the girl to throw the fork. Therefore, she went out to her way to make ear training hell for me. After all, I was the one that got her "innocent" kid in trouble. Yes, I did try to take the tater tot up somebody's plate, but what choice did I have? I was starving! Because I didn't get my meal. I don't think I was my fault, the idiots running Lunch Bunch didn't get me my food!

But that doesn't matter. Nothing matters. I hate that people can do whatever they want to hurt other people, and everyone else just has to sit there and take it. It's not fair. It's not right. But that's the way it is.

At the end of October, ear training for the Lower Intermediate group wrapped up; and then it came time for us to audition. I was one of the last people to audition. This frustrated me, mainly because the fire alarm kept going off. I think the fire alarm went off between four to five times between the start of auditions and the halfway point, and twice after that. Now, when it was my turn to play, the fire alarm didn't go off. Something else happened: just as I got my guitar and amp set up, the power went out. Since (in the interest of saving time) we were auditioning two people at the same time, I wound up having to give up my spot to someone whose instrument didn't need electricity to function. I didn't make it into the next level of strings group

Why did I fail the audition? I didn't find this out until later, but it was because the woman that was the ear training instructor deliberately shut off the electricity not just fro the building where the audition was held, but for the entire block. Yes, she shut off the electricity for at least 20 buildings just to get me to fail an audition. The lengths that she went to so as to screw me over were just astonishing. It was like using a flamethrower to kill an ant. Total bullshit. Complete and total bullshit. But, that’s the way it is. It’s not fair. It’s not right. That’s just the way things are.

The worst part is, it doesn't stop there. Even though they kicked me out of strings group, my parents still got the bill for it. That's right, they were expected to pay for strings group lessons that I wasn't even at! As any sane person would be, they got mad. It got to a point where they filed a lawsuit. There wasn't much to say about this lawsuit, though. Nothing earth-shattering happened, it ended up getting thrown out of court. But we never got an apology from that string group. Worse, we were short a crazy amount of money, and we had to find a cheaper place to live. My parents and I ended up having to move in with my grandpa on my father's side. Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against my paternal grandfather. In fact, the living situation wasn't the problem. The problem was school.

When I say the problem with school, I didn't mean middle school. The middle school I went to during that time was actually OK. In fact, it was better in the school I was attending previously. The problems with school started once I entered high school. When I started high school, my English teacher was the guy from Lunch Bunch that got hit by the thrown fork. And it's because of him that my grades went downhill.

Once I hit high school, it got harder and harder for me to do my assigned work. If I did it poorly, I didn't think it was enough. But if I did well, then I get worried that people would think that I cheated. It felt like a no-win situation; that the only way to get buy was not to do the work at all. The teacher knew this, and he went out of his way to exploit it. I had done so badly and all of my courses, especially English. it would take a miracle for me to pass English. I had one last assignment. One last thing to be completed. The teacher told me, and the guy was lying through his teeth, not to worry about thinking that he thought I was cheating. He told me the only thing I should worry about was doing a good job on the work and making sure that I understand what was being taught. I made the mistake of letting my guard down and doing the work. Before I handed it in to turnitin.com, he had (unbeknownst to me) hacked my laptop and already handed it in to turnitin.com under his own name. He did that so when I submitted my essay on turnitin.com, it would get flagged for plagiarism, even though I did the work myself.

I think I got suspended for over a month. But regardless, I had a hard time doing school work after that. I ended up losing all my motivation, all my drive to succeed in school. I ended up doing the bare minimum in all my classes, and even then, it still wasn't enough. Things got so bad, I wound up failing every single class I had in 11th grade. So that's how I wound up failing the 11th grade. People think it's my fault that I wound up failing 11th grade. It's not, it's because I couldn't do the school work, because I had trust issues brought on by his teacher that hacked my laptop and framed made for cheating.

After I filled the 11th grade, I realized that I was stuck. There was no way I was getting anything back. There was no I was going to be able to catch up to everyone else, no hope that I would pass any of my classes. So I took drastic action: I quit school. You might think I was overreacting, but really, I wasn't. I didn't have any choice. Everything was ruined for me.

The worst part is, everyone thinks this is my fault. Nothing could be further from the truth. The thing that made me quit school wasn't getting accused of cheating in 9th grade. It wasn't because we had to move. It was all because of that crappy Lunch Bunch thing that I went to that Valentine's Day when I was 9 years old.

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #short fiction #short story #savage-words #butterfly effect

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babblingfishes · 6 years

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Another FroodPad Update

(I’m sending an email instead of tagging people about this one because the majority of you guys have changed urls.)

For anyone who used the original FroodPad (PiratenPad) teamsite for fic writing, the host is taking down the site next month.

As before with the Mozilla alternative, I have backups of most of the text.

Here’s what I do not have:

Backups of locked pads

Chat logs

Authors / authorship colors

Time slider histories

If you want any of those, you’ll need to grab them yourself asap! If you’ve forgotten a password, the quickest way to grab my attention is to let me know via the tumblr messager (or my Discord, if you have it) and I can help you.

As for the actual text of the pads, I have these saved! I can send them to you whenever you like. Under the cut is a VERY lengthy list of the pad titles I have backups of. I can also do a text search if you need.

!!HEY GUYS -- WRITER PROFILES *Goat scream* 2SPOOKY 2c Stories 365 days of Rabbit No! A Very Frood Pad Christmas An attempt to organize chaos And the Band Plays On Annie got her gun Ask Walter Kids BADLY SINNING BRAINTHUNDERING Best Ship Around Broken little pieces CC 4 editing Care Cat!Steve. Don't ask. Cat's sehr whichtig grad portfolio stuff Catori's Little Pad ^^ Cheeroko: ES Drabbles And Possible Story Cheeroko: Elder Scrolls Brainstorming Cheeroko: Fanficing Fanfics since ... Today? Cheeroko: Has Started Yet Another AU Cheeroko: Rabbit Appreciation Pad (Aka, SPG Pad) Cheeroko: Walter Manor Cheeroko: What Should I call this? [{Original Fic}] Cheeroko: You Know What? I'm Just Going To Use This Pad For My Gender Stuff Christmas List Come keep French Company! Please? Configuration (new-new CC and biocore planning) Counter Nonsense Crazy Community Fanfiction Crazy Community Fanfiction II Crazy SPG Collab Thing 2.0 DANGER 5 SOLVE THE GREATEST CRIME OF ALL Derelict (spoilers yo) Derelict 23 and other stuff Derelict Chapter 20 Derelict Chapter 24 Derelict Chapter 25 Derelict Chapter 25 for real this time Derelict Dragon Dreads Derelict Take 73 Derpy-Nuns Don't come here unless Fish is whining at you Don't look Dr. Babblefish's Quest to Only Become Moderately More Insane Dragon Lurve Elephants and Nachos Everyone Writing Everything FRANKENPAPPY Fantastic Mister Vox Fish Does Terrible Things Fish Fanfictions Salgexicon Now Fish and Serif attempt a role play thing. Fish and its monospaced text Fish has an F in evil Fish is Sailing a Ship Fish is a terrible person. Fish is just rambling Fish writes things about other fandoms Fish's Awkward Nonfandom Headcanons Fish's Lupin Drabbles Fish's Magical Tragical Guide to Not Writing Mary Sues Fish's OC Boat Fish's Originalish Pad Fish's Plots and Characters French Rambles French Writes Stony French is a Poet Froodpad Rules and Instructions Further proof we're all insane Futureverse G-Mans and Watering Cans GW2 Cav stuff Ghost! Ghostfacers! Hangout pad Happy Little Family Happy Little Family Notes Here ye go, Redacted Heyo, Achgfd Homestead-Ch.1 How to be nice in RP I blame everyone but me I figure at this rate I should just make a Weird SPG Dreams pad I have no idea what im working on I never tire, I serve I- I- I- LOVE ROBBIE DARREN IT IS A SMUT POWERED BLANKET MY GOOT SAR Ice Cream and Knit Bow Ties Imma figure this thing out by posting prompt responses Improb In Which Pappy Dies In Which Reed Becomes a Robot In Which Steve Drops Bass In Which There is an Abandoned Lab In which robots become metaphors for Autism Spectrum stuff Laying Down The Law Here MATURE REPLY MBG Tumblr Planning MERRY HOLIDAYMAS YOU WEIRDOS! MWFGOH Notes MY FRIEND MATT WHERE YOU AT May B. we Feta get outta here May B. we Feta get outta here pt2 Muppet Baby Giraffe Fics Myth fanfiction maybe??? NOBODY PANIC (MICHAEL GOT THE D) Neoma's Writes Not Actually a Funeral Not!Derelict Nuns could use help writing a comedy piece for English Nuns does a research paper on GAY GODS Nuns fools around with a hero's journey Nuns hunts for the Holy Grail (and a good essay grade) OC ADVENTURE!! OFF Musingses OOPS Oedipus Script Old Money On the wings of steam One of the Fanmily Original stuff is harder than we anticipated PSILENCE WILL FALL Pappy Pad 2 Pappy Rabbit Old (Still needed though!) Pen & Kari's Pad of Fairytale Badassery Philosophy Notes Pokemanz SPG Post-Derelict Headcanons Princey and Leeland's Walter People Pad Princey definitely isn't using this pad for homework anymore Princey is the best right Leilani right Princey tries Original Stuff Princey wanted to write OC stuff too Princey's self-indulgent stuff Princeyfic (An Accident of the Smallest Kind final chapter) Princeyfic: An Accident of the Smallest Kind Princeyfic: Basically nothing but a mermaid OC Princeyfic: Canoe Catastrophe Pronz Psi does homework and other stuff Psi does homework occasionally Psi gets his shit together Psi is in pain. Also class. Psi jacks Cat's characters Psi plans the Derelict!Verse RP blog early because he's bored Psi reads Marsupial Psi takes out dysphoria on The Spine Psi tries for "canon" SPG Psi writes Cabin Pressure stuff Psi writes a thing about an author Psi's Headcanon Psi's Kazooland OCs??? Psi's class notes Psi's class notes and HatchWorth stuff Psilent's Hatchworth Feels Psilent's Pscribblings Psilent's Pstuff Psunny's Muppet Babby Stuff Public pad 2: 2 public 2 pad Pun and Psi Make a Porno Punny: Ask Index Punny: Broken little pieces Punny: Crack Fic ideas Punny: Ficlets Punny: HLF Th teen years Punny: Happy Little Family Punny: Justice Giraffes Punny: Major fics Punny: Rainbow! The Spine Punny: Trying to figure out how the hell Super spg works RABBIT NO RABBIT NO 2: electric boogaloo Rabbit writes fanfic Relish's Ramblings Reverse Pre Mid Life Crisis 3000 Rex and Captain. Rover! SICK ROBOTS. (Princey and Leeland) SIMNANIGANS SO I may have discovered aquabats and it may have given me some muse SPG/Avengers cross over collab-fic SS kills a lot of young women SS: Aftertheendverse SS: Aggressively writes happy fanfiction SS: Amnesia Home Pad SS: Amnesia Revisions SS: Amnesia!Spine Headcanoning SS: Ancient Mariner SS: Angsty Poetry xP SS: Annie/V SS: Dragon!Steve SS: Genderbends because of reasons SS: Just our positronic electronic harmonic SS: Michael wants the D(erelict!Steve's dick) SS: Michael wants the D(erelict!Steve) #2 SS: More Spine/OC junk SS: Okay actually writing Amnesia now SS: Poems by Peter VI SS: Possible Natalia 'Verse SS: Private Party SS: Ratchet and pumpkin SS: Spine/OC SS: Spine/OC #2 SS: Spine/OC #3 SS: The Only Constant SS: The Way Home SS: hoamwork Satyr Adventure script Secret Santa (Sign-ups closed, Santas have been assigned!) Serif needs to kill something apparently Serif's Dump Pad Serif's Dump Pad 2 Seth only starts things and never finishes them Sewing Stitches SisterofaFish's Pad So much craft poisoning Something Wicked This Way Comes Space-Opera Spoons' Stuff Goes Here Stalking Information Steve has Joined Your Party! THIS IS WHERE THE PARTIES AT TIME TO SCARE THE BABIES Tango's Reason Why The Case of the Quest of the Missing Coffee The Mythos Mythos The Rake This is a public pad because Fish is bored This is utter crap Thunder Charge Title! Too Many Thoughts Untitled 180 Untitled 217 Untitled 314 Untitled 322 Untitled 323 Untitled 324 Verse Fable...or something like that WE GON WRITE FLUFF WE LAV U HRUP WRITER PROFILES We write Mirrormask fics now. Mirrormask is cool. Well look what the cat dragged back in World Building You know what, ignore Nuns a surprise in every pad and no one was ever happy the end awkward monsters/spg campfire song song cat used to write hannafic class notes copper conduction 3: REVELATIONS copper conduction p. 4 death lullaby ye everybody look down fear and loathing in san diego half-baked hatchworth stuff hesitantly works on new chapter how rabbit got his groove back 2 i leik ur silileh lteile hat incdrop - frisk incwrites it's sort of like hellraiser except not lemarchand's fic oh heck there's a plot one time ruffy wrote angst original sexy awesomeness possibly part of Two Birds One Stone possibly not psi is the batman psi's original story (caution may contain robots) ((totally contains robots)) psi's presentation that's due in six hours ruffy's writing a thing schoolwork and such (go away) shit so many fics so little time so much writers block sometimes i doubt your commitment to sparkle motion the end. the fucking crying game the future doesn't love you the wit and wisdom of spg woo lets write pirates woo

#froodpad #long post #(sorry if tumblr doesn't cut this @ mobile folks)

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jorgesmedicine-blog · 6 years

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Diagnosed Children

A message to the families, mothers and fathers, dealing with children diagnosed with ADHD, Autism, and all other conditions that they’re diagnosing our children with these days.

So much I want to say. So little time that we have. Let’s get to the point.

Connection with your child is what is most important. Regardless of what they were diagnosed with, our goal as parents is finding a way to connect with them, providing them with a safe place to express themselves, a place free of mockery, free of judgment, free of punishment. We are not disconnected from them, if we suffer, they suffer, if we stress out, they stress out, if we are at peace, they can also learn to be at peace.

I’m going to crush some people’s world by telling them that there are many things we can do about our children diagnosed with these conditions, but most of these things require a drastic change from our part, a change of life style, and that’s what most people don’t want to hear, but I’m saying it, in case you are the one willing to do everything and anything to see your child get better.

Most parents know why their children are behaving the way they are, they know they are partially responsible for their condition, they know something deep inside. Instead of hiding this feeling, instead of denying the truth, instead of focusing on what happened in the past, focus on finding out how your condition, and your child’s condition are connected. Our parents pass down their conditions to us, we share these conditions, we can overcome them together.

You are their protector, their honorable guardian and the parent that they need now. Trust in your love for them to make the decisions that will benefit everyone. Be one of the people they can trust, to lift them up, don’t be one more of the pile of people who will put them down in their life, telling them what they can’t and what they can do. Give a chance for them to grow, a chance for them to find something they love doing, for them to see things with their own eyes, for them to make their own mistakes, for them to fall and find the way to get up. Give them a chance to play without so many limitations, without our constant voice saying ‘no’.

Your child has a life, has a body, and has a will of his own. Don’t ever see your child as an incomplete being, or as a disabled person, or as less capable than others. Don’t compare your child to any other children, or to other children of his age or his gender. Your child is unique, a wonder of life yet to be discovered, have hope in them, hope that regardless of what anybody says they can overcome any obstacle they set out to overcome.

Our diagnosed children are trying to tell us something, but we don’t have the patience or imagination to listen to what they want to say. They are hurting, hurting badly, a war deep inside them. Something that they saw, something they went through, something that happened to them, something that sent a part of their soul flying to a safe place to protect itself. It’s their mission in life to look for this lost piece of their soul, it’s up to us the parents to guide them through this process of healing with awareness, wisdom and decisiveness, or you can choose to be one more of the pile who will try to put them down with limitations.

Things we can do today to help them and to help ourselves:

1. Stop talking about them in light of their condition, to your friends, to your neighbors, to your parents, specially not associating them with the name given to their condition. This is a good habit to implement in general, not only for our children. Nobody likes being labeled anything, specially something they don’t understand, it’s a hurtful thing we do without knowing how the other person feels. Following this recommendation will open up space for a change, for something different to come. Stop talking about them… …As if they can’t hear you …As if they don’t understand what you’re saying …As if they’re not there …As if they’re an inferior form of life because they haven’t grown up …As if they have a weight that they cannot lift themselves …As if they’re condemned to this condition with nothing anybody can do

2. Don’t use or subscribe to the language given by the mainstream medicine, the pharmaceutical industry, the words they use to describe our conditions are condemning and plainly useless when it comes to dealing with the condition. Instead try to use your own words to describe what is happening. The language they provide for our conditions (ADHD, Autism, Dyslexia, OCD, Bipolarism, Schizophrenia, Multiple Personality Disorder, Alzheimer, Cancer, etc.), can be very confusing, it’s based on blaming, on keeping us ignorant and on putting all the weight on the magic pill solution. This language is not interested in finding the root of the problem, but in extending the problem further, in studying the problem and giving it a new name that takes it further from the truth of where it came from. That language is limited to what they want the patients to know, what they want patients to perceive. What they don’t want us to know is that our body has the power of transformation, the power of changing itself, of healing itself. The body, and all its parts, is capable of healing itself, given the right conditions and right frame of mind. Learn to communicate with your child, to develop your own language, learn to see the ups and downs of energy, the triggers that flip everything around.

3. Respectfully, mimic their sounds to get a feel for what they could be feeling. They’ll know your trying to understand them, to connect with them. Don’t do it in a mocking or laughing way, do it as honestly as they are, to really try to feel what they’re feeling. Play with these sounds if the opportunity arises.

4. Don’t force them to behave like normal people (speaking habits, costumes, etc), don’t force them to do what you think they should be doing. We came here to shine, to be light, to live fully without holding back anything. Open and create space for them to express what they have to say, space to observe what is truly happening, a safe space where we can play and flourish together.

5. Avoid using prescribed medication to treat the condition. They will break more things in the body than what they can fix. Numbing them down to the point where they blend in with the crowd is not a solution, is just a temporary patch, our own rejection to see what is really there. Rely on natural medicine, on nature, on people who love them, on spaces where they can be what they are, rely on games and playing.

Don’t underestimate the pain that society passes down to us. It has a big influence over our kids. I’m talking about the screen (computer/phone/tablet) and Internet, I’m talking about violent cartoons and pink imaginary worlds, I’m talking about the pressure put on them at school, I’m talking about them having to be put in an institution since very young age because the parents are working. I’m not looking for assigning guilt, I’m just looking and passing down what I see. This is what I see and I hope it’s of use for someone somewhere in the world.

To recap, 5 things you can do today if you’re not already doing them: 1) Don’t talk about them (so often) in light of their condition. 2) Don’t subscribe to pharmaceutical industry language. Develop your own. 3) Mimic their sounds, connect with them beyond words. 4) Don’t force them to behave like normal people. 5) Avoid giving them prescribed medication.

Any questions and comments are welcome.

#adhd #autism #healing #health #parents #parenting #society #medicine

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allysacademicadventures · 6 years

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“I love you but I can’t accept this”: On Parental Challenging of a Child’s Trans Identity and How it is Unproductive and Harmful

On first coming out, and, unfortunately still, my mother was of the persuasion that this is not something she can accept, at least – at the very least – without challenging. She questioned why every authoritative source or guide on dealing with your child coming out as trans said that the first thing one must do is accept one’s own child as they are. She didn’t, and still can’t, understand why one must accept it without challenge, and I feel she is missing the point if she believes challenge doesn’t exist (she has and continues to challenge this at every opportunity, I think she doesn’t see why she should accept this), though I appreciate that the types of challenging of this identity change varying on the age of person. I will discuss the effects and outcomes of challenging over affirmative parental behaviour towards their trans children at three different age intervals: young child (pre-puberty), young teenager (puberty), young adult (late puberty/post-puberty) [these are rough ambiguous categories to be taken with a pinch of salt and some of things are universally held between them]

If a young child identifies as trans, the parents’ priority should be the child’s health and wellness, and more often than not this should be managed through affirmation, social transition, and facilitating gender therapy; the challenging here comes from both therapy, where the gender therapist will be able to help the child understand their own feelings - there are many types of gender therapist and, as you are the parent, most likely it will be you choosing and you may choose one that aligns more with your thinking, and if the idea of a child being trans is unacceptable for the parent then they may seek someone that encourages repression over affirmation. However, what I would caution is that ‘reparative’ therapy prioritises the parents’ comfort over the child’s happiness, whereas, affirmative therapy works only to prioritise the child’s happiness and health - and allowing the child to explore their identity socially and psychologically with no real and tangible commitment to it. By allowing the identity to be lived by the child we are prioritising the child’s physical and psychological health. If we deny the identity of the child not only do we put them through unnecessary stress, but we also deny them the opportunity to experience, live, express, and either challenge or affirm their identity.

If someone in their early teenage years identifies as trans, once more the parents’ priority should be the teenager’s health and wellness throughout the turbulent time of puberty. At this point we should acknowledge that the young teenager has greater agency and understanding of how they identify, that is not to say that young children don’t, but it is to say that young teenagers have gone through the formative years of social understanding. If a parent wants to challenge this identity they should understand that if someone of this age is identifying in this way challenging will most likely not change any outcome, and their challenging and rejection of the identity is more likely to damage the young teenager over actually helping, though in a warped way parents may see rejection of the identity as a way of expressing care for the child, but once more rejection is prioritising the parents’ comfort over the child’s happiness and physical health. As we enter these important and turbulent years of puberty the parent must acknowledge the damage rejection of the identity could cause and mustn’t be surprised if their child suffers from poor mental health, reduces familial communication, reciprocates the rejection, or attempts suicide as these are the lived and protracted consequences of rejection. The ideal approach to a young teenager coming out as transgender would be socio-familiar affirmation of the identity and seeking an appropriate and affirming gender therapist to facilitate the medical intervention of puberty blocking hormones to facilitate a reversible exploration of their identity and prevent the pain of a dysphoric puberty. The effects of puberty blockers are reversible and give the young teenager more time to think about their identity, the effects of not intervening are, to be blunt, horrendous, not only does no intervention force a child to go through the psychologically damaging event of experiencing an unwanted puberty, but also increases their risks of experiencing violent crime when they transition as an adult as they are seen to transgress gender boundaries to a greater degree.

If a young adult identifies as trans, once more the parents’ priority should be to their child’s health and wellbeing, and at this point challenging the identity is nothing but futile as the young adult will have not only been thinking about this for a long time and come to a strong conviction in their identity but also may well have started the processes of coming out to friends to develop a support network who seek the happiness of the child and thus have some hard earnt social conviction on which to stand on. Challenging their very identity is fundamentally harmful, and if a parent is to continuously do this then they mustn’t be surprised when relationship with the child deteriorates or when the child is no longer in their life, either through leaving them through reciprocal rejection as an unaccepting home environment becomes unliveable and unbearable, or through suicide, in which, to be blunt, I would argue the parents become culpable in manslaughter for such abject familial rejection which leads to this. I am by no means saying parents should not ask questions of their child, which is in a very broad sense challenging the identity, as that allows the for the parents to understand the needs of their child and what they should do – that is if they are willing to prioritise their child’s happiness over their own comfort and way of thinking – but what I am saying is challenging which either begets or is intertwined with rejection, or anything which does not affirm their child’s identity, is the most ill-advised approach and I would contend that this, in a protracted sense, is equitable to abuse. The ideal reaction, naturally, is an acceptance and affirmation of their child’s identity, one which allows the child to take charge – as they are a young adult – and in which the parent is supportive of the journey their child chooses to take socially and medically.

Lastly, as there is a trend with some formerly authoritative – a polite way of saying now discredited – figures pedalling a pedagogy of gender variability in autistic people, if an autistic child comes out as trans, please see above for the best approach. It is ridiculous to believe that autism renders trans identity a rejectable variable to some, which, if the autism is supported, will go away; this is preposterous and there has been no compelling evidence to suggest the validity of this. Moreover, if a parent is to hope that their child is not trans, rather they have some other diagnosable issue which will, if ‘treated’ and/or supported, reduce the child’s performed gender variance, then they have a perverse hope. They have a hope in which their desired outcome is developmental difficulty on their child as they find that more comfortable than their child’s gender variance, and that is a perverse hope. Moreover, parents that use things like autism to simultaneously show the ‘source’ (obsessive tendencies leading to a fixation with gender) and invalidate a trans identity in a child, they are unlikely to be supportive of any special needs the child may have for autism, and I question both why they would have children and their own moralistic ground in which they stand as they use a developmental issue for their benefit, placing themselves before their child.

Overall, a parent should accept and affirm their child’s trans identity as it prioritises the child’s health, happiness, and wellbeing, it is, medically speaking, the most sensible approach, and it mitigates against the risks and damages rejection and aggressively challenging parental behaviour can cause. If parents want the happiness of their child, they must understand that by rejecting, dismissing, or aggressively challenging their child’s trans identity then they are telling their child, ‘yes, I want you to be happy, but only in a way that is palatable to me’. Although the parents’ love may target the authentic individuality of their child, the parent is telling the child that they love them, but they can only love them in an ‘ideal’ image of them which they have assigned to to the child (this is usually a preconceived notion of what you want your child to be and in this case lacks contingency and fluidity), and if the child cannot be that ideal the parent is thus telling the child that they are not loved, they are telling them that in order to have the parents’ love and support the parents get to define the child’s essence and it mustn’t vary from this preconceived vision they have, and in this circumstance the child sways from this vision and the parents’ notion of love will result in mutual damage. Thus, don’t ask your child to compromise for your own comfort or idealised vision of your child, rather accept and affirm your child, watch them blossom into happiness.

NB: I shouldn’t have to say this but please remember that not all experiences of trans youth, their households, familial relations, their development, and coming out are the same. This is representative of both lived, shared, and studied experience, primarily focusing on experiences in western Europe and North America, though some principles are universal, some remain contingent on a certain social context which I have experienced. If you feel anything needs added or omitted please let me know, and if you can add things more relevant to a different social space please do!

#trans #acceptance #identity #identity studies #affirmmation #parent #transgender #transphobic parents #parents #COMING OUT #queer #autism #actuallyautistic

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bat-ly · 7 years

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Back To School

Characters: Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne

Summary: Cassandra finally convinces Bruce to let her go to school and is really excited to start her first day at Gotham Academy. However, she's about to find out that even if you're not directly bullied you can still be hurt.

A/N: Long time no see guys!

Anyway, this is something I've been working on for a while and I'm really proud of it. I believe my writing has improved a lot from when I started this AU and I think this is my best work yet.

It is also something that's deeply personal to me. This is sort of a vent fic and me projecting my struggles on to Cassandra and Dick, that said almost all of the scenes in this story are loosely based on my own experiences as an undiagnosed person who possibly has ADD or Autism (still not sure, to be honest.)

Fair warning for anyone reading: THIS STORY CONTAINS ABLEIST LANGUAGE INCLUDING THE R SLUR AND OTHER ABLEIST BEHAVIOURS IF THIS UPSETS YOU THEN DON'T READ.

Also for anyone interested there is more stuff in this AU that I would like to upload onto Tumblr at some point but for now, you can find it here.

"Are you sure you want to this sweetheart?" Bruce asks for what is probably the hundredth time already. A look of concern is painted on his face as he helps Cassandra pack all her new school things into her new school bag. "it's not going to be easy."

Cassandra raises an eyebrow up at him before signing "When has anything in my life ever been easy?" She turns back to what she was doing, far too excited to be upset over Bruce's overprotectiveness.

She is finally going to school! A real school! After months of begging and pleading and proving herself ready for the experience over and over again, Bruce finally caved and enrolled her at Gotham Academy, the same place all her siblings had gone!

"I know but this is going to be an entirely different set of skills." Cassandra sighs having heard this argument already. "Ones that you haven't had as much experience in." He pauses what he was doing to reach over and place his hands on Cassandra's cheeks, bringing them up to look him in the eye. "I know I keep saying the safe stuff over and over but I just can't help but worry, this will be a big change for both of us."

Cassandra puts her hands to his and allows her face to ease into a soft smile. "I know you worry. We will survive this." She is well aware her speaking grammar still isn't perfect but as long as her point makes it through then she doesn't really mind too much. Gently pulling away from Bruce she puts the final item in her backpack before zipping it up and placing it on her back in a triumphant looking pose.

Bruce looks at her almost wistfully. "Yes, I believe we will." He takes a moment to collect himself. "You look amazing, dear."

Cassandra beams up at him, grabbing him by the wrist in order to drag him out to the driveway where Alfred was already waiting with the car. There's a bounce in her step as she makes her way down, dragging her reluctant father with her. It was small moments like these when she felt they could almost be like a normal family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After arriving at the school it took forever to get Bruce to let her go and finally enter the school, she could have sworn he was almost on the verge of tears. Well, at least he was putting on a very convincing fatherly act. Just like she managed to convince him she wasn't overwhelmed by the amount of people.

Cassandra would be lying if she said that being completely packed in by so many people didn't make her nervous, it was ingrained into her very being to be cautious in possibly problematic situations. However today was not for being an assassin or vigilante, today was for being a student.

The first class is… odd, or at least it feels odd to Cassandra. As soon as she enters the room people are looking and noticing her presence. Then the teacher, a greying but in denial about it woman, comes up to her with a smile that might've actually been faker then Bruce at a gala.

"Hello," she says far too loudly, "you must be Cassandra, welcome to Gotham Academy." The sickly sweet tone of her voice and slow way of stretching each word made it seem like she was trying to communicate with a 3-year-old. The way she bent down to Cassandra's level didn't help either. "

Uh, h-hello?" The teacher's body language is throwing her off. Surely this is considered weird by society standards?

"We are so excited to have you here." The teacher moves to pat one of the nearby desks. "We've already set up a nice spot at the front for you to sit, is that okay? Cassandra finds it annoying how long it is taking just for this woman to finish a sentence but figures it'd be rude to say something.

Not really knowing how exactly to respond to the teachers' obvious lies Cassandra just nods her head and walks over to her new assigned desk. Weird teacher aside she's excited to find that the classroom looks a lot like the ones in the movies.

The walls are relatively bland and plain, the only decoration being a variety of different informational posters relating back to the room's main subject. The desks are all set up in neat, uniform lines with the only other thing on the floor being the students' bags. Cassandra's desk is covered in all sorts of different scribbles and scrawl, most of it inappropriate she believes.

Once Cassandra has sat down the teacher crouches in front of her desk and gives her that borderline terrifying smile. "Now sweetie, if you're struggling with anything you just ask, okay?" She's still talking in that annoyingly slow way and gives an exaggerated nod on almost every word.

Cassandra still didn't know how she was supposed to react to this so again she chose to just nod her agreement. Finally, the teacher leaves her to unpack her things and continues on with the lesson. Fortunately, the rest of the period goes ahead in fairly ordinary manner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Recess! Finally, it was recess! Bruce was actually right in saying that Cassandra would already know the majority of the regular school curriculum, but she still found the experience educational in its own way. However, after being cramped up in those small desks for over two hours, she was still glad to be getting a break.

Cassandra joins the flowing river students as they make their ways down the hall and outside. The weather was fair and warm, which was relatively rare for Gotham, so everyone wanted to make the best of it. Once out in the school break area, Cassandra is confronted with a large selection of possible sitting areas.

Of course, Cassandra knew that this was possibly going to be a difficult situation considering she wasn't the greatest at making new friends but she figured the best she can do is just find somewhere to sit and let things naturally take their course from there. She finds a nice bench in the sun near a large group of kids who all seemed to be fairly decent. They're talking very loudly and Cassandra can't help but listen to their conversation.

"Hey! Did you hear about the shit Raz pulled in Maths today?" a tall, dark-haired boy calls out to one of the others.

"Aw yeah, I swear he must be retarded or something!" Cassandra instantly goes completely still as soon as she hears this.

That's a bad word. Dick told her that's a bad word. A bad word used to describe people like him and her, what was the official name he called it? An ableist slur, she thinks it was. Cassandra tunes back in to hear all of the other kids in the group laughing like it was nothing.

Deciding that perhaps these kids just weren't as good as they first appeared Cassandra thinks that maybe it's best if she just ignores them and tries to focus on just eating her lunch and enjoying the nice weather.

However, Cassandra could not ignore it when she hears the group start making jokes specifically about Autism. Not quite hearing the whole original exchange, she looks over and listens intently only to find that the kids are mocking each other by calling each other Autistic.

Cassandra feels such strong, sick feeling of disgust in her stomach that she just has to get up and leave the area. It was horrible! How could they make a joke out of an entire group of people like that!? And everyone was just okay with it?

Cassandra moves herself to a nice, quiet tree away from any major groups of kids, where she can do her best just to put those awful kids out of her mind. She chooses not to finish her sandwich out of fear that the sick feeling in her stomach would just make her puke it up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sick feeling that Cassandra had felt during the first break only got worse throughout the rest of the day as she realized that those were not just a particularly bad group. Now that she had heard it once Cassandra couldn't help but notice that everyone showed the same behavior.

Worse was that she couldn't seem to find anyone who seemed to care or think that this behavior was wrong. No one seemed to exhibit any bodily behavior that indicated they were uncomfortable with this. Apparently mocking people who have no choice in how that act is completely normal and accepted in school.

She sees kids making fun of how some people stim, waving their arms around exaggeratedly and laughing about it. She hears many more kids like the ones in the first break who feel the need to use Autism as a way to insult their friends. Most upsetting was the fact that almost every kid in all of her classes felt the need to say… The R word.

As the day goes on Cassandra continuously shrinks further and further into herself. After having someone as amazing and confident as Dick to guide her through the ups and downs of having Autism she never thought she would say that she was ashamed to be Autistic, ashamed to be different.

She refuses to interact with anyone just in case someone makes fun of her for her speaking difficulties or her use of sign language. She never puts her hand up to read for the class, noticing how everyone groans and rolls their eyes whenever a slow reader is picked.

And whenever she feels the urge to stim or flap, she resists. It's torture to not be able to let out her pent up emotions like that but for the first time in her life, Cassandra feels like these differences she has mean something is deeply wrong with her.

What Cassandra is not ashamed to say is that by the time that school ends she's ready to just go home and cry. This whole time the biggest thing her and Bruce had been worried about was the possibility of bullying, yet no one said a bad thing to her and she still feels like running home in tears.

She makes her way out to the car that Alfred is sitting in the front of, opens the door before throwing her bag, and herself, into the seat. Unfortunately for her, Bruce is sitting on the opposite side, surely waiting to hear all about her first day at school.

"Sooo… how was it?" Cassandra could see the tension in his body, waiting for the verdict. She knows that if she says a single bad thing out loud Bruce would start a campaign to get her out of school, which she isn't ready to give up on yet, but she doesn't know if she has it in her to fake a good day.

"Fine. It was fine." School has made her painfully aware that she is failing in the speech department so she does her best to talk with proper grammar. She knows it won't be enough to fool him, but she hopes it's enough to convince of her need for some privacy.

It works, at least for now, Cassandra senses Bruce's withdrawal but also his heavy concern. This will not be the last they speak of this. But until then Bruce is willing to respect Cassandra's privacy and leave her alone until she's ready to talk. They spend the rest of the drive in silence, the tension thick in the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Instead of taking her usual patrol route that night Cassandra starts the journey to Bludhaven instead. She knows Bruce will be willing to cover for her with the others should they question her absence and right now she just really needs to talk with someone.

Hopefully, he'll be home tonight. It'll make things a lot more difficult if Cassandra has to go running all around Bludhaven just to find him. She makes her way to his apartment, keeping to the shadows so none of the late night crowd would notice her.

Once she reaches the window there's music playing from inside accompanied by a carefree voice. Hoping that he doesn't have any guests over, Cassandra approaches the window and gives it a loud tap. The singing stops and, after face appears in the window, so does the music.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Princess?" Dick grins as he opens the window. Just the sound of his voice calling her that personal nickname makes her feel instantly more at ease. He waves her inside before closing the window and turning to give her a hug.

She knows he notices how she squeezes him a little tighter than usual because he leads her over to his worn, second-hand couch and sits her down.

"Is something wrong? I heard you started school today," the concern is obvious on his face and she's just ready to spill her guts to him.

"Why am I wrong?" she whispers. She doesn't know any way else to tell him, why is she wrong? Why can't she be like the other kids? Why is it so normal to hate people like them, who have no choice or control over how they act?

A look of pure shock passes over Dick's face, "What?" Cassandra hates that look, it makes her want to break down in tears, to just let him see every exposed and vulnerable part of her so he can kiss it better. Just like he always does as an inside joke whenever one of them gets hurt.

"The other kids… at school.." saying it is just too hard for her right now so she switches to ASL, "None of them seem to know… they treat our disorders like a joke."

Dick's expression falls into one of dismay. "Cass… Princess that doesn't make you wrong," He looks away and sighs, "It seems like since forever people have always just… never known how to react to something they perceive as different" He turns back to Cassandra and gives her a soft smile, "If anything it's them who's in the wrong, for refusing to even try to understand."

Cassandra feels her lip quiver and knows that her eyes must be swelling up as well, "But I feel like such a failure of a human."

Dick thinks for a moment, shifting his position on the couch, "Do you want to know what someone told me when I was feeling this way?" Cassandra looks at him with curiosity and nods. "Well, they reminded me of something very important."

Dick moves to cup Cassandra's face in his hands, looking her directly in the eye, "They reminded me that we are not broken or failures, we're just different."

This opens the floodgates as tears start to run down Cassandra's face and don't seem to stop. She breaks Dick's hold and moves in to hold him as tightly as she can. A reassuring hand reaches to rub soothingly on her back as she finally gets the chance to just let it all out.

They stay there for what seems like hours, just Cassandra sobbing in Dick's arms until she simply runs dry, then they stay together a bit longer. Until Cassandra is asleep and Dick tucks her into bed before hopping in beside her, still not quite ready to let go yet.

#Dick Grayson #Cassandra Cain #Bruce Wayne #Autism #ADHD #ableism #ableist slurs #tw ableist language #it's wing night!#angel ninja #DC Comics #the words of me #fanfiction #writing

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creacherkeeper · 7 years

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“am i autistic?” a step by step guide

so there are some resources out there about learning about autism and trying to determine if you’re autistic, but i figured some folks would appreciate a nice neat step by step guide. this is intended to be used by adults, but older children can certainly follow these steps as well and get something out of it

first off, hello! dont be afraid! whether or not you determine you’re autistic at the end of this, it’s always great to learn more about yourself! try not to think of this as a serious thing. what you determine isn’t going to change anything about yourself, just give you a new perspective. whatever changes is up to you

before you start, open a new word document. you can title it 'autism tests’ or something cheesy like ‘my autism journey’. you’ll use this to keep record of things as you follow the steps

**allistics feel free to try it out and signal boost!**

step one: quizzes!!

who doesn’t love a good quiz? we’re starting with quizzes because diagnostic criterion can be scary and confusing. try not to think too long about these questions, go with your first instinct. don’t second guess yourself. if you’re having trouble answering them yourself, take them with a person who knows you well

A. short quiz - 50 short questions. takes 10-20 minutes to complete (warning in the results section for ableist language like ‘suffers from’ and ‘impairments’. just pay attention to the number)

did you get a 30 or up? did you get a number lower than that but feel like you want to keep going? write it down in your word document, and lets go on to the next quiz

B. long quiz - 124 questions. takes 30 minutes to an hour to complete. it says ‘aspie’ but this is a good tool for autism in general

you’ll get two scores, an aspie score, and a neurotypical score. go ahead and write these down. this test is a pretty good indicator, so pay attention to what it says before you decide if you want to continue

step two: the criteria

okay, so you’ve taken the quizzes. you probably have some prior knowledge, but you might be asking yourself, what IS autism, exactly? what does it entail? we’re gonna go ahead and take a look at some of the criteria of what autism is, and what autistic traits are, so we can get a fuller picture

A. asan’s about autism page - here’s a very simple overview of some autistic traits. it has seven points. does this sound like you? copy the headers into your document, and see if you can come up with one example of how each one fits you. if you cant think of one, ask yourself if it fit when you were younger but doesn’t anymore (you might want to ask your parents or childhood caregivers if these fit you as a child).

still want to keep going? lets get a little more detailed

B. revised autism criteria - okay so this one has some more heft to it, it goes into a lot of detail, but dont let that frighten you! just take it one step at a time. like last time, copy the headers into your document. for each point you relate to, copy that into your doc underneath it. can you think of specific examples where these criteria applied to you? if you can think of ways you relate that aren’t listed on this page, go ahead and write those down under the appropriate headers (in parentheses so you know those are what you added)

C. if you’re feeling like these criteria apply to you, go ahead and take a peek at the dsm v criteria for autism. if you’re in the us, this is what your diagnostician will be using if you choose to pursue a diagnosis. pretty much all these points are covered by the revised criteria above, so dont feel like you have to put any of this in your document if you dont want to

D. still not sure? if some of this feels like it applies to you, but it doesnt fit quite right, you might relate more to what’s called ‘atypical autism’. it’s still autism, but it manifests in a different way than what is more stereotypical. this is more common in people assigned female at birth, but can apply to any gender. go ahead and check it out here. if you find these things fit, do like you did before and copy and paste it into your document [edit] link is broken please see bottom of post!

keep in mind that many allistic (non-autistic) traits can be learned, so you have to look at all these things as how they can apply to you in childhood as well. while autistic people can learn things such as allistic body language, and allistic social skills, the key here is that they were learned. it doesn’t come naturally. autistic people may be very good at these things, but it will always feel like something of a performance, and can be very draining cognitively

step three: review

okay, so we’ve done our quizzes, and we’ve reviewed the criteria. you should have a pretty good overview of what autism is at this point, and how you might relate to it. go ahead and take a look at your document. how long is it? how many things did you copy down?

if you copied down a small amount of things: you’re probably not autistic. but you’ve now learned some more about autism, and some more about yourself! congratulations!

if you copied down a medium amount: you might be autistic. before you continue, go ahead and check out some conditions that we call ‘austim cousins’. these are neurodivergencies that have overlapping traits with autism. take a look at adult adhd, ocd, and schizophrenia (the negative symptoms of schizophrenia overlap with many autistic traits). do you feel that one of these might fit you better? if not, go ahead and continue to step four

if you copied down a large amount: you’re probably autistic! go ahead and continue to step four

step four: exploring a diagnosis

so, you think you might be autistic. what to do now? the first thing to do would be to continue researching on your own any points of confusion you had. if you have specific questions, a good place to ask is the ask an autistic blog. they also have a resources page with links to pages that deal with specific autism traits, like echolalia, burnout, and meltdowns

after you’ve researched to your satisfaction, the next step would be a diagnosis. you have two options here: self diagnosis or a professional diagnosis

self diagnosis means that you approach things with the understanding that you are autistic, and you are free to immerse yourself in the autistic community if you so choose. professional diagnosis means that this understanding of yourself is confirmed by a professional such as a qualified therapist, doctor, or diagnostician

what are the pros and cons of a professional diagnosis?

pros: an official label, if you like those. accommodations in school or in the workplace. the chance to pursue ssi, if you are unable to work due to autism

cons: finding someone to diagnose you as an adult can be difficult, especially if you are a woman or identify more with atypical autism. there is the possibility of a misdiagnosis. it is not covered by insurance and can be expensive. there is a stigma attached to the diagnosis. if you wanted to go into the us army, you would not be able to with a professional diagnosis. possible discrimination in child custody battles

no one can decide for you which is the best path, so take some time to think about it. if you decide you are happy self diagnosing, then congratulations! this part of the journey is over, and you can move freely into your life as a newly realized autistic person. know that even without a professional diagnosis, you are still autistic, and no one can take that away from you. you can go ahead and skip to the end

if you’ve decided to pursue a professional diagnosis, here are the next steps you can take:

A. if you are currently seeing a trusted therapist, ask them for a recommendation for a local diagnostician. they might know someone in the area who has experience diagnosing adults, if they cannot do it themselves. if you’re not seeing a therapist, hit up google and search ‘adult autism diagnosis’ + your city name

B. have you or someone you trust make some calls to local diagnosticians. ask them how much experience they have diagnosing adults, if they have experience diagnosing women (if this applies to you), what their fees are, and exactly what their process is

C. make an appointment! this can be scary, but i promise it doesn’t have to be

D. at the appointment (which may be one day or broken up into several days), you will be interviewed about your experiences and childhood, and asked to fill out paperwork (this will be similar to the quizzes you did earlier). there will be several games you will play, like memory games and puzzles. you can choose to share your document with the diagnostician. another appointment will be made where you get the results

step 5: your new life

you’ve made it! you now know that you’re autistic, and a new part of your life is beginning. there is a lot of joy to discover now that you’ve realized this about yourself. you can find a community, relearn old stims, and understand and accept behavior that may have confused you before. the biggest part of this new life is acceptance. there is nothing bad or broken about you, you are just autistic, and that’s okay! go ahead and reopen that document, and put a big ol smiley face at the end, because you did it! you know more about yourself, and you can now connect with the world in a new way. welcome to the autistic community :) we’re glad to have you

[edit] thank you rowan for letting me know the link was broken and saving this info for me!

Appearance / Personal Habits

Dresses comfortably due to sensory issues and practicality

Will not spend much time on grooming and hair. Hairstyles usually have to be ‘wash and wear’. Can be quite happy not grooming at all at times.

Eccentric personality; may be reflected in appearance

Is youthful for their age, in looks, dress, behaviour, and tastes

Usually a little more expressive in face and gesture than some other Autistic people

Enjoys reading and films as a retreat, often scifi, fantasy, children’s, can have favourites which are a refuge

Usually happiest at home or in other controlled environment.

Intellectual / Giftedness / Education / Vocation

May have been diagnosed as Autistic when young, or may have been thought of as gifted, shy, sensitive, etc. May also have had obvious or severe learning deficits

Often musical, artistic

May have a savant skill or strong talent(s)

May have a strong interest in computers, games, science, graphic design, inventing, things of a technological and visual nature. More verbal thinkers may gravitate to writing, languages, cultural studies, psychology

May have been a self-taught reader, been hyperlexic as a child, and will possess a wide variety of other self-taught skills as well

Highly intelligent, yet sometimes can be slow to comprehend due to sensory and cognitive processing issues

Will not do well with verbal instruction - needs to write down or draw diagram

Obsessions (passions / special interests) are not necessarily unusual

Emotional / Physical

Emotionally immature and emotionally sensitive

More open to talk about feelings and emotional issues than people with typical autism

Strong sensory issues - sounds, sights, smells, touch, and prone to overload. (May not have taste/food texture issues.)

Stims to soothe when sad or agitated; rocking, face-rubbing, humming, finger flicking, leg bouncing, finger or foot tapping, etc

Similarly physical when happy - hand-flapping, clapping, singing, jumping, running around, dancing, bouncing

Hates injustice and hates to be misunderstood; this can incite anger and rage

Prone to mutism when stressed or upset, especially after a meltdown. Less likely to stutter than some other Autistic people but may have a raspy voice, monotone at times, when stressed or sad

Social / Relationships

Is very outspoken at times, may get very fired up when talking about passions / special interests / obsessions

Can be very shy or mute

Like people with typical autism, will shut down in social situations once overloaded, but is generally better at socialising in small doses. May even give the appearance of being skilled, but it is a “performance”

Doesn’t go out much. Will prefer to go out with partner only or children if they have them (note from typist: I find I have a short list of “safe people” who I prefer to go out with, and I will refuse to go out if none of those people are available)

Will not have many close friends, and will not conform to gender stereotypical activities with friends, or have get-togethers to “hang out” with friends

Will have a close friend or friends in school, but not once adulthood is reached

May or may not want to have a relationship. If they are interested in a relationship, they probably take it very seriously, but may choose to remain celibate or alone

#okay here it is!#been working on this for a few days #wading into the deep end of autism research can be really scary when youre just starting out #so i figured this might help some people #if youre like me and like step by step things #i encourage everyone to at least take the first quiz and see what the results are! never know what you might find out!#actuallyautistic #actually autistic #autism

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fierceautie · 4 years

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Tony Attwood is a well known psychologist who concentrated his career in Aspergers syndrome (stay with me I don't believe in this label but I do need to accurately give information). He is married to his wife Sarah and has three children. His children's' names are Rosie, William and Caroline. Aspergers Syndrome is no longer in the DSM V. Its all considered autism. He is hanging on to the functioning label that the autistic community has denounced many times before. Hans Asperger was a Nazi who sent disabled children to their death and should never be honored. Attwood graduated with an honors degree from the University of Hull. He has a Masters Degree in clinical psychology from the University of Surrey and a PhD from the University of London. Attwood is currently an adjunct associate professor at Griffith University in Queensland, Australia. Attwood and Transgender Issues Tony Attwood has been rather vocal when it comes to transgender issues and autistic people. He says he is not opposed to a transitioning if the person chooses. He feels that people could "slump back into depression if trans status was embraced with impulsive and unrealistic hopes to fix autism." This is offensive on so many different levels. I have met many autistic people who are transgender. Many just want to live as who they are. Nobody ever says they want to "fix their autism." "Once they've changed gender, they still have autism and when transition doesn't solve their problems they think, Oh no, that was the only option I had, what's the point of life?" A non scientific poll on twitter showing out of 150 autistic respondents, 92% do not want autism to be cured. There is a higher risk of suicide if people do not transition. According to the Williams Institute, studies show the prevalence of suicide thoughts and attempts among transgender adults is significantly higher than of the US general population. This uses data from the 2015 US Transgender Survey. The key factors are: 98% of respondents who had experienced four instances of discrimination and violence in the past year thought about suicide that year 51% attempted suicide that year In contrast to what Attwood says: "Those who had 'de-transitioned' at some point, meaning having gone back to living according to their sex assigned at birth, were significantly more likely to report suicide thoughts and attempts, both past year and lifetime, than those who have never 'de-transitioned.' Nearly 12 % of those who 'de-transitioned' attempted suicide in the past year compared to 6.7 % of those who have not 'de-transitioned.'" "Those who wanted and subsequently received hormone therapy and/or surgical care had substantially lower prevalence of past year suicide thoughts and attempts than those who wanted hormone therapy and surgical care and did not receive them" The science clearly says that transitioning is VITAL for mental health. This is the exact opposite of what Attwood claims. I had the opportunity to speak with Alexandra Forshaw of Autistic Inclusive Meets. She is a transgender autistic who agrees to speak to me about this topic. She said,” I transitioned about 5 years before I was diagnosed autistic, although I self-identified for several years before that.“ I transitioned because I’d become increasingly aware that the reason I felt such discomfort trying to act and appear male was that I wasn’t actually male.“ I’ve always felt completely comfortable being autistic - I know that it causes me some difficulties in my life but I’m used to that and I’ve learned how to work around the obstacles. I’ve never wished I wasn’t autistic.” Clearly she didn’t transition because she wanted to cure autism. She wants to live life as herself. Nothing more, nothing less. His has his own clinic called Minds and Hearts: "A private clinic for Autism Spectrum Disorders. This clinic is a unique clinic located in Brisbane specialising in Aspergers Sydrome and Autism. This clinic was designed to provide specialised knowelge and assistance from a multidisciplinary team of experienced professionals. Minds and Hearts has 7 psychologists, 1 educational psychologist and 2 receptionists. Tony Attwood is also one of the team members." The clinic offers: Ongoing therapy: emotional problems including anxiety, anger aggression and depression Attention Deficit Disorder Behavioral Problems Eating Problems Grief Bereavement Couples and Families Experiencing problems School problems including school phobia, behavioral problems and bullying and teasing School Communication problems Social Skill development and friendship skills Sexual problems and sex education Problem Solving This whole laundry list sounds like goals for ABA. They do not come out and say it is ABA but not everyone is obvious about it. Groups: Only one group is listed. Autism Working Programme: "Employment can make a big difference to a person’s self-esteem including a sense of purpose and self-worth, practical application of one’s interests and/or strengths, opportunities for acquiring new skills and the incorporation of structure and routine into daily life. Nevertheless, employment can bring particular problems for a person on the autism spectrum, including difficulties with mental exhaustion and high levels of stress, difficulties with the social aspects of the work setting, sensory issues and concerns regarding priorities and organizational skills. This group programme provides strategies and ideas to assist with the common problems that can become barriers for people on the autism spectrum in the work setting. By the end of the programme, participants will have a comprehensive workbook of strategies specifically designed for their own profile of strengths and challenges. These strategies can then be used to achieve greater success in the workplace." This does not state how teaching coping skills will be taught. This could be ABA methods, it could not be. But with the behavior approach that is talked about in the rest of the site, it probably incorporates ABA methods. If ethical methods were used, this could be extremely helpful. The clinic offers Speech Therapy but Attwood does not run that. Attwood authored several books: I have not personally read them but the way they are presented, I would not recommend them. When i read them I will post my review. They are: Ask Dr Tony: "contains transcripts of Skype interviews that Craig Eveans of 'Autism Hangout' website www.autismhangout.com conducted with Tony Attwood over several years. Tony answers a wide variety of questions on ASD posed by the member of Autism Hangout and these have been transcribed for all to read and learn" The Complete Guide To Aspergers Syndrome: "is the definitive handbook for anyone affected by Aspergers syndrome. It brings together a wealth of information on all aspects of the syndrome for children through to adults." Exploring Depression and Beating the Blues: "A CBT self help guide to Understanding and Coping with depression in Aspergers syndrom [ASD level 1] written by Tony Attwood and Michelle Garnett. . . This book explains and decribes depression, the forms it can take, and how it looks and feels for teenagers and adults with aspergers syndrome. Although developed as a self help guide for use with minimal professional support, the programme can also be used in group or individual treatment. " Been There. Done That. Try This! "The world Aspie mentors pass on their insights for sucessful living! Launching a mentorship movement within the autism community to help each other find success, this is an inspirational guide to life by aspies for aspies." CBT for Children and Adolescents with High Functioning Autism Spectrum Disorders: "This book helps clinicians harness the benefits of cognitive-behavior therapy (CBT) for children and adolescents with high functioning autism spectrum disorder (ASD). Leading treatment developers describe promising approaches for treating common challenges faced by young people with ASD - anxiety and behavior problems, social competence issues and adolescent concerns around sexuality and intimacy. Chapters present session by session overviews of each intervention program, review its evidence base and address practical consideration in treatment. This book also discusses general issues in adapting CBT for this population and provides a helpful framework for assessment and case conceptualization." Exploring Affection: "These two books present carefully designed and evaluated activities for parents, teachers and psychologists to help children who have Aspergers Syndrome understand and express affection to friends and family members. The programme can be incorporated into social skills or friendship programme or a Cognitive Behaviour Therapy programme for expression of emotions." Source: https://www.tonyattwood.com.au/ (view in mobile bc the desktop version looks horrendous) https://mindsandhearts.net/ https://www.bioedge.org/bioethics/inquiry-needed-into-link-between-aspergers-and-gender-dysphoria-australian-/13457 https://williamsinstitute.law.ucla.edu/publications/suicidality-transgender-adults/

http://www.fierceautie.com/2020/08/autistic-history-tony-attwood.html

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classycollectorartisanposts-blog · 6 years

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Can I buy 2 life insurance?

"Can I buy 2 life insurance?

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