Lately, I have been sad. Just little things, here and there. Oh I don’t really feel like eating so I won’t. Oh, I know this is bad for me but I’m doing it anyway. Something awesome happens or is going to happen and I expect to feel like fairies are dancing inside me, but there’s nothing that nice, just a little half-assed “yay”. Skipping a shower here and there. Falling behind on work due in soon. Neglecting things I really shouldn’t be neglecting.
Why do I feel this way? Probably because I am hated.
April was a hard month for me. Really hard. I’m still weakened by it. I see my other autistic friends/acquaintances handle it with such grace and sass that I feel like the “broken” link. The one that isn’t strong enough.
Everyday, I am faced with something that hates some part of who I am. When you speak of a cure, you speak of killing my personality. My differences. My similarities. My dreams and goals. Everything, everything that is the building block of what makes me Lorna would be taken away. And, the hurtful part, you want that to happen. You think I’m a disease. A corruption. Something that could infect you if you vaccinated, if you drank milk, if you watched too much TV when you were pregnant. The fear of autism strikes you so hard that the unreasonable becomes reasonable and the hatred of who I am is really that powerful. it’s really that strong.
An autistic person dares to enjoy something that helps them. That calms them. That settles their mind when the insults start to creep into their head, when the noise just tips into “this is too much, I can’t cope”, when the noise inside is just as loud as the noise on the outside. The world turns it into a joke. The world makes meme upon meme upon fucking meme. Because our pain is your delight.
Everytime the world feels like it might just accept us, it might just change something about the way it works so we can feel like we are on the right planet after all, we suddenly are taken three steps back and I feel how we might never win. How this world might never accept me, might never want me.
One of the biggest, most supported organisations “for” autistic people also supports something that causes PTSD in autistic people. Let that sink in. If that isn’t hate, I don’t know what is.
We face our own families pushing us away because of our traits. Because we aren’t social enough. Because we’re “too difficult”. Because we’re weird. Because we do things in a different way. Because we speak oddly. Because we hardly speak at all. Because we speak too much. Because we’re too picky. Because this, because that.
That dark little cloud looms over my head day in and day out because there is no escaping this. I can’t change who I am. I wouldn’t ever want to. Ever. The world makes no effort to hold our hands, though. The world does everything it can to drag us down. To make the neurotypical parents with their abusive viewpoints the centre of attention, while autistic voices are silenced. Again.
And I am tired of being hated. I am tired of only being accepted, loved and wanted by autistic people. As much as I value them, as endlessly glad I am that they exist, I want neurotypical people to stop hating me too. They don’t know they’re doing it, but they are. In the small things, every single day, and it wears me down. I’m tired.
That’s enough depressive talk for today. But next time you think you support autistic people, think again. Do you?