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Goal of this blog

Picture of a hula girl looking at her distorted reflection in the window. Distortion effect is the whole image, adding that it isn't just in her head.


The goal of this blog is to share my autism experience with others, with and without autism. The goal is to educate the reader on what it is like to have an IQ above 70 and still have severe issues with sensory sensitivity and managing sensory overload.
It isn't to inspire and uplift, though if you find yourself either that is OK by me. A lot of what I post speaks to the frustration I face with lack of any supportive service, community access and grave concern for my future.
I have shared my faith and photos in earlier posts. I have lost desire for both, but that is part of major depression stemming from lack of purpose and grave concern for my future.
I am trying not to give up on either.
I know there is a better life waiting for me in eternity. My hope is to arrive there by God's timing, not mine. I hope to die in my own bed, in my own safe place that accommodates my autism and mental health struggles, not in an alley or institution.
I have to keep reaching out to advocacy organizations no matter how many times I hit a dead end. Nobody else can help me. If I ever do die indigent and abused, it won't be because I didn't do anything.
I will have also left something in my wake, this blog.

Popular posts from this blog

On the fringe: autism and family gatherings

Child covering ears Family gatherings are noisey. There are a myriad of voices that range in pitch and volume. There is that one person who laughs so loud that tears well in my eyes. Boys yell and bang on the piano. Someone is taking a photo with flash. Greeting people is part of being polite, even when you are already in sensory overload. Perfumes and colognes combine and foods from the kitchen circulate. Men yell at the football game and women laugh at something funny.  All this is taken in at the door. There is a long way to wade through before I can put my coat in a quiet bedroom. I have to remember to smile and say "hello" as well as accept hugs. There are a few cousins who cannot stand my presence, though, at age 5, I don't know what I could have possibly done to upset them. I am asked, "Why do you plug your ears?" I am told repeatedly that nobody wants me here. I am the only one who isn't part of a group. Sometimes, I get bullied. A parent ...
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To the dad who removed his crying toddler from the waiting room

Young female child crying First of all, thank you VERY MUCH for your thoughtfulness in choosing to remove your crying toddler from the OB/GYN waiting room. I am sure it was boring for your daughter to wait on top of being sick. I could hear the mucus rattle when she coughed. Being patient for a toddler is hard on a good day, but far harder when you are sick. My autistic brain can remember back to when I was a toddler. I was about to go in for my yearly exam. I had a meltdown earlier in the week and was dreading the pain and pressure that always comes from having a metal speculum inserted into my vagina. I have a very good doctor who is both practical and patient, but it is still a very uncomfortable experience. Not having to figure out how to run out of the office, possibly punch myself in the head or knock something over was a HUGE relief. I was able to remain seated and chew my stim pendant, filling out my paperwork (I wish they could just e-mail it-very stressful as I am ...
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The Onion in the Petunia Patch Part Three

Young adulthood-present I attempted suicide when I was 17, six months before graduation. I was hospitalized for the first of what would be over 20 spanning from 1997-2006. More bullying and much more blame came from what was supposed to be a place of healing. I was told how spoiled I was, what a con-artist I was; manipulative (as if plugging my ears and screaming at the loud toddler visiting was my way of wanting to “get” something from someone-other than quiet). There were more suicide attempts. In 1998, I saw the next in a series of psychiatrists/psychologists. This man diagnosed me, wearily, with “autistic tendencies”. I was 19. I went on to getting into trouble with the law and almost being imprisoned. I firmly believe if it hadn't been for my mom’s nursing sense and persevering spirit, I would have gone to jail and would not be here today. I questioned God. I began to wonder if He really did exist. I decided that He did, but that He hated me, even was bullying me. How s...
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