Funkonovo/Allison's autism Blog

A woman on fire-Pixabay My meltdown is Echoed in my screaming Adrenaline is racing like napalm through my veins Moro reflex punching my gut over and over Reliving the sensory overload on a loop I'm drowning without being in water and I have to go to bed for 2 days Sometimes it brings red and blue flashing lights on a squad car  Handcuffs chewing into my wrists Lots of shouting and grabbing Strapped to a backboard while my skin turns purple and black Locked up, drugged up Being punished for something I cannot control It isn't a conscience choice I've made To disrupt my life or yours It so happened that A dog was barking- A child was screaming- Someone set off a firecracker- And I couldn't process the information fast enough To remain in control of my executive functioning The threat of sensory overload hangs pregnant, like a cumulonimbus cloud I need a safe place and safe people- now and until I die To successfully process what life

I have had medical therapy for my hyper-acute hearing. I also wear passive headphones and/or earplugs as the therapy could not help me 100%. It is called Tinnitus Retraining Therapy. TRT primarily helps those suffering from Tinnitus, but also benefits those with hyperacusis (I was diagnosed at age 10, but no therapies existed to treat it). To find God, I think He had to work all the distractions and perversions out of me. I have found the comfort and encouragement in Him that an autism support group never could have hoped to hold a candle to. All they did was cyber-bully me, parents of kids with autism because I politely disagreed with a speaker they wanted at a future meeting. There is much more I would like to touch on, and I have on my blog, “autisticaplanet blogs”. I began blogging on Blogger back in 2009 before moving to Wordpress and back to Blogger again last fall. It has grown to include my growing interest in nature photography. I hope you will visit. I am not a “long dist

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

Early Years Back in 1979, there was no DSM IV. There was no Asperger’s diagnosis. There were no support groups for parents. No early intervention. After all, how can anyone intervene into something that does not yet “exist”? My mother used to tell the story of playing “Music Box Dancer”, a loud & lively tune, on the organ. She was 6 months along with me. As she played, she began to feel and see violent kicking in her womb. She called my dad into the room. When she asked him what he thought, he abruptly answered, “Stop playing!” My mom, very concerned, read an article in a magazine that mentioned the “difficult child”. This was a child who was hyper-intense to their environment from day one. It was hypothesized that the problem would solve it self by the time the child was about 5 years old. This obviously was not the case, and my mom thought so after reading the article. The rest of my story more than proves the point. I was born to older parents. My dad was 52 and my mom was

I am releasing the PDF book I wrote in sections. It is a brief memoir about growing up undiagnosed with autism back in the 1980's and 1990's. I hope in disclosing this people my age will know they aren't alone. I hope there will be lessons learned for bullies and judges and pitfalls to avoid for parents raising autistic kids today.  Introduction: There is an old song by Arthur Godfrey called “I’m a Lonely Little Petunia”. In it, the little petunia bemoans its smelly fate living among the onions. My mother used to call me the onion in the petunia patch, and not just because I was a little stinker. I amused and angered the “perfect” people in my life due to the glaringly obvious fact that I didn’t fit in or belong anywhere outside my home. I rocked, walked “like a duck” as one classmate put it, and screamed, plugging my ears, when a teacher put on an old, scratchy record. More than mere quirks, my autism affected relationships with others, sensory input and ev

Woman peeling away layers to show true self I follow a few blogs written by autistic women in their 30's on up. They frequently speak of masking, which is a coping tool to get through their day without anyone else knowing there is anything wrong. They often say it is a characteristic developed in childhood or adolescence. Due to my extreme auditory sensitivity , I have never been able to hide behind a mask. I also came to be told in my teens that I had an anxious and angry look on my face. This came about when I asked my mother why store clerks stared angrily at me. She confirmed that they indeed were staring at me and told me about my face. Shopping centers are loud and chaotic places. By age 16, my autistic regression made shopping malls and restaurants unbearable. I firmly believe this is the result of brain growth. Brain growth continues until one's early 20's. I wish I could hide behind a mask and alter my often monotone voice (especially under stress). It wo

I didn't know that the vile migraine had an awareness ribbon and month (June). They are not simply headaches. They alter mood, create nausea and vomiting, make darkness and silence a must, cancel plans and are chronic.   My migraines were few and further between as a child (I got about 2-3 a year and had to go to bed, vomiting periodically), but increased in my teens along with autistic regression. I inherited mine from my mother. It is always the same eye. I don't get the the visual aura but I do have the olfactory (smell) phantosmia . Mine are blessedly fewer than 14 per month. My heart goes out to those of you who experience more than 14 a month. Love and support are so very important. My parents were very understanding. My mom had to hold me while I cried sitting on the bathroom floor, head pounding and vomiting into the toilet to the point it had to be flushed at least twice. I can expect them during right before and during my menstrual cycle. Sensory overload and

In the 1990's and 2000's, I wrote poetry. Today, I would like to share one of my poems. Ignorant I take a hammer to the sky And the shards of china blue Rain down like daggers There is a bullet hole In the starless new night sky That swallows the light Pillars of stone and salt Tumble to the ground In thunderous collapse This is my doing; I shall not look back Will you remain ignorant still Now that these things are done? Was it necessary for us To bare these pangs Because I am not as you are? Violently exposing an other's deceit. That is what usually culminates into the end of any relationship I have ever had. I have no tolerance for targeted sarcasm, usually frustration on the part of the other person. It must be a neurotypical thing, because I haven't had autistic friends. I haven't had the chance to be included due to my neuromakeup and lack accommodating services. I have tried, with some success, to addre

Housing for autistic adults-within reach? Illinois, my home state, doesn't have too many choices when it comes to housing autistic adults who cannot work on their own, but have little to no difficulty with brushing their teeth and doing laundry. I live in the northern part of the state, in a county that has a huge discrepancy between the northern and southern parts due to the way it is set up. I live in the desolate far north. I am continuing my quest to draw attention to the need for a variety of different living situations for autistic adults in Northern Kane County in Northern Illinois. Below is a letter I wrote to my elected representatives (Christian name omitted for privacy) Dear Representative, My name is () and I am an autistic adult residing in your district. As you are probably aware, there are now a lot of adults with autism who either need or will need a safe, quiet and structured place to live after their parents are unable to care for them (mine are both

autisticaplanet avatar The following is a long list of what it is like FOR ME to live with autism 1. Having constant anxiety. 2. Constantly stimming to relieve anxiety, usually by rocking. 3. Hypersensitive hearing that makes living with most "everyday sounds" impossible. 4. As a result of #3, limited exposure to the outside world to keep me and others safe. 5. Unemployment. 6. Not being able to participate in what little programs there are available due to #3 and #4. 7. Knowing exactly what I want to say through writing often coupled with imagery with little need to revise. 8. Taking anti-anxiety and antidepressant medication to help me remain in my own skin. 9. Intrusive and unwanted thoughts. I have OCD. 10. Being a highly visual thinker who has to deal with #9 a lot. 11. Being poor at directions. I use landmarks to picture where I am going. 12. Not being able to drive. This also means I don't have a car payment or car insurance to worry about. 13.

I don't talk on phones unless it is someone I know who will go into a quiet room. I also cannot use a smartphone. I have to have a real button to press. I do have a cell phone with a slide out keypad. I hope phone manufacturers will keep the slide out keypad model. Not everyone has refined motor skills. This includes seniors. Everyone who lives long enough will be elderly one day. I don't do well with voice recognition as my words often falter in real time. I can only think clearly when writing. This is the model I currently have.  It is affordable an  I can also text. I keep in contact better with family now due to texting. It is the next best thing to seeing them.  Phone manufacturers need to keep making the slide out keypad for those with mobility issues like compromised fine motor skills.

Matching earring and necklace set in pink. gold and gray. I love to wear jewelry. My mother loved jewelry. I must have inherited this trait from her. I often do mix and match, but during a stressful event such as PMS . Something in my brain doesn't allow me to deal with mixing, only matching. Knowing this, I have a few matching necklace and earring sets. They are the "go to items" I wear when OCD has a grip on me. Department stores such as Kohls (where I shop) has plenty of affordable costume jewelry , including surgical steel earring backs. Cubic Zirconia or any clear crystal will go with anything. If you have any go-tos for stressful times in your life, figure out what they are and use them. It is a great coping tool. 

“You are going to wind up in jail, an institution or the morgue.” –Neuropsychiatrist at the University of Illinois at Chicago Campus, January 2006 “You are a fraud.” “You are just spoiled.” –Behavioral health worker @ Alexian Brothers Behavioral Health Hospital, Hoffman Estates, IL 2005 “It isn’t my job to understand autism.” –GP, circa 2005 “How much did (X) cost?” Ongoing suspicion from AID (the association for individual development, headquartered in Aurora, IL) each time I have worked with them, despite full financial disclosure on my application form. “Well, that’s because they get so much fraud.” My one and only friend (during a conversation on 1/1/17) who used to work at AID, despite my telling her a person is innocent until proven guilty in this country. Add to this sexual assault (Lutheran General Hospital, Park Ridge, IL 1999-during a free gyno exam -included in hospital stay). Would not pull out speculum when I told the doctor and his assistant