...time's up...

Imagine how desperate it feels to be waiting for change.

Imagine how degrading it feels to be reduced to a stereotype.

Imagine how dismissive it feels to be told that you know less about your own disorder, how it affects you, and what supports you need, than a first-year psych student.

Imagine how it feels to be told that someone else's experience of you is more important than your experience as you.

Imagine asking for help and being told you can only pick and choose from services that will cause you further distress, further dysfunction and potentially, long-term trauma.

Imagine how desperate it feels to be waiting for change.

Imagine:

~your diagnosis and very way of being, used as the punchline to a joke all around you

~being told to let others do the speaking for you

~having your expert perspective completely ignored

~being told you won't amount to anything

~being accused of having no emotions and no connections

~being feared because your diagnosis is falsely linked to the potential for violence

~being ostracized from your peers for fear of social contagion

~ having limited learning opportunities in self-contained classrooms because bureaucracy only funds to the general population, not specific need

~learning and working and living with people who assume incompetence

~spending every day exhaustively in mimicry of other peoples' actions/behaviours/expressions/vocal patterns/etc... for their comfort, at the cost of your own mental and emotional health

~being punished or penalized every time you try to self-regulate

Imagine how desperate it feels to be waiting for change.

Imagine being autistic.

The waiting needs to be over.  The time for change is now.

We are here.  We are intelligent.  We are reasonable.  We are impassioned. We are emotional. We are empathetic problem-solvers. We are creative non-linear thinkers.  We are communicative.  We are social.  We are familial.  We are familiar.  We are HUMAN.

See us.  Hear us.  Amplify our voices.  And stand behind us in allyship as we change this world for the better by demanding acceptance, inclusion and the respect so long denied us.

Time's up!

...make an (ass) out of yo(u) and (me)...

From our Team:

Assumptions about the general autistic community-
-that read more like accusations-
-and feel like personal attacks-
-founded in fearmongering, eugenics, ableism, and bigotry.

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

• black and white thinkers, with no ability to recognize the complexities in between
• no empathy
• flat affect
• lack of self-control
• verbal communication is the gold standard for communication
• autism is a disease
• autism is an epidemic
• ABA is safe and effective, and "fixes" autistic behavior
• autistics have little to no self-knowledge and are more susceptible to persuasion or manipulation
• stimming is harmful and should be corrected, halted, and if necessary, punished
• autistics are either child prodigies or mentally deficient
• autism and sociopathy/psychosis are typically linked
• autistics have a natural propensity for violent outbursts
• autistics are easily identifiable
• autism is easily diagnosed in all sectors of the population
• one can "grow out" of autism
• all non-verbal autistics have low IQ
• are underdeveloped humans
• are akin to aliens
• are spiritual beings from another plane
• are "squeaky nerds"...with vocalizations that more closely mimic pre-pubescent children
• only work in engineering sectors
• can't function to the same level as neurotypicals
• can't emotionally connect with others
• are cold, distant, and unapologetic

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.
Is it really any wonder that we're done playing nice?

...unacceptable...

 From our Team:

The Oxford Dictionary defines acceptance as:

1. the act of accepting a gift, an invitation, an offer, etc…

2.  the act of agreeing with something and approving of it

3. the process of allowing someone to join something or be a member of a group

4. willingness to accept an unpleasant or difficult situation

(accept is defined as: to take willingly something that is offered; to say ‘yes’ to an offer, invitation, etc -  to agree to or approve of something - to take payment in a particular form - to admit that you are responsible or to blame for something - to continue in a difficult situation without complaining, because you realize that you cannot change it - to make somebody feel welcome and part of a group - to believe that something is true -  to allow somebody to join an organization, attend an institution, use a service, etc.)

The current majority of society defines autism acceptance as:

1. contrived, of-the-moment, sympathetic acknowledgement of its causing great discomfort and hopelessness to families of autistic children

2. for-profit sales incentives, themed-product offerings, and donation-gathering for non-autistic serving/non-autistic led organizations

3. inspiration-porn: “a term coined by the late disability activist, Stella Young, refers to the objectification of people with disabilities in media, which serves the purpose of making the consumers, people without disabilities, feel good.” (credit:Inspiration Porn - AbleSC (able-sc.org)) and the pigeon-holing of autistic persons as being inhuman to the point of only existing as series of challenges to be overcome

4. educational and social programming full of empty words, promising a further understanding of or support of autistic children, families of autistic children, and educators of autistic children…while ignoring the very existence of autistic adults and drowning out the voice of the actually-autistic community by speaking over them or protesting that their manner of communication is too aggressive or stilted 

5. *bonus round* - one day in April ~ the month of April ~ a guilt-trip from the dead-eyed teenager scanning your discounts at the checkout register

Actual-Autistics (many, not all...yes, there is divergence in this community just as with any other) define acceptance as:

1. welcoming, seeking out and amplifying the voices and experiences of autistic people, particularly in identifying the actual support needs of the community
2. an end to the common-use infantilization of autistics
3. the death~cremation~and burial of ableism, once and for all
4. a hard stop on the action-based assumption that autistics have any desire to "pass" as typical and, relatedly, for the world over to become a safe-space in which we can unmask
5. the fearmongering (aimed at parents of autistic children with the goal of increased financial output into quack therapies: often dangerous, sometimes life-threatening, and most often traumatic) to be deemed criminal and those who practice it appropriately penalized
6. release from the standards of typical societal expectation and acknowledgment as being of equal value no matter our form of communication or our coping strategies
7. societal, if not celebration then at the very least reaction-less observation of stimming and encouragement to continue what works for each individual (so long as it is lawful) and provision of physically-safe stimming substitutes for those of us who self-harm without meaning to
8. acknowledgment of autistic burn-out and alternative work environments and schedules, both as applied to the job-force and to education

...need we go on???

Perhaps this list is dauntingly impossible...impassible...enough.

After all, if we're still asking for it in 2022?

#AutisticComicTakeover:

From our Team:

 

Departing from the recent style of commentary we've been sharing here, I (Johannes) wanted to highlight something both entertaining, and surprisingly useful:

#AutisticComicTakeover

This new-ish hashtag is doing the hard work of highlighting the large number of Autistic content creators out there. This particular event is being headed up by the talented Rebecca “Bex” Ollerton, also known as Schnumn on most platforms. As part of Autism Acceptance Month, she organized a challenge for individuals to illustrate their experiences, helping redefine what being Autistic means...as well as quite a few funny anecdotes. 

Bex isn’t the only skilled artist out there, though she’s brought quite a few into the limelight, including:

@yellowplumfruit

@saltedgayfish

@konnichibot

...and many more on Twitter.  And though not a participant in this particular event, I do also want to draw your attention to one of my favourite accounts on Facebook and Twitter: @growingupautie

I've thoroughly enjoyed and related to so much of his content, comics and books...and am always psyched to add another of his tee-shirts to my growing collection!

For my fellow Autistics, please go check them out! Bex has also made sure to share a lot of the artists under that tag, too, so go take a look.

For all you neurotypicals out there, check them out, too! Hopefully these can help with understanding what’s so different about our experiences in today’s world.

Terms That Need To Be Terminated: April Edition

From our team:

“Having autism”

It’s not like ‘having a cold’ or ‘having a pet.’ We just ARE. The having implies that it’s something extra, something transient. It’s about as effective in dismissing actual facts as the phrase, “with Autism.” Again, it’s not some accessory or aesthetic. It’s just us.

“Differently abled”

A “happy feel good” term gaining steam in recent years, this implies that we don’t live in a society that only values typical superficial interactions. We very much do. Instead of using ‘disability’, which highlights the very real truth of the autistic experience, the term “differently abled” implies some sort of trade-off of skills or talents…or abilities. By current standards, we are disabled. Our level and areas of function differ from neurotypicals. We are not X-Men with abilities that differ from those of the standard-model human experience. Sensory processing differences so common within the autistic community are not, in fact, akin to super-hearing or the gift of prophecy (by means of hyper awareness to sensory stimuli).

“Autism Epidemic”

Language matters…as should be abundantly clear from the emphasis you’ll surely have noted in all our recent posts. Language choice matters. Borrowing terminology from virology-based medicine and applying it to a neurodevelopmental disorder is, simply put, fearmongering at its best. The term epidemic is indicative of disease.

 Furthermore, the rise in Autism diagnoses isn’t because of more Autistic individuals. It’s because diagnostic methods have improved, and the standards by which tests are gauged have become much more fine-tuned…due, in large part, to the inclusion of Actual Autistic voices in data compilation regarding the Autistic experience at all stages of life. 

Let’s take a brief moment for a history lesson. Autism, as a diagnosis, did not exist in the way we understand it, for most of human history. Even as recently as the 1970’s, autism was viewed as a social/mental/emotional deviation caused largely by “refrigerator mothers”. (Yes, that theory is as ridiculous as it sounds) Shame-based exploitation of the autistic population such as this absolutely canceled out the seeking of diagnosis. Generally, when something is no longer ‘othered’ in society, there’s an increase in statistical data. Not because of trends or external causes. It’s just people being themselves. Lest you forget, left-handedness was shamed, punished and “corrected”  in previous decades because of misinterpretations regarding etymology and being viewed as outside the norm.

“Autism Mom/Dad”

Simply put…your child’s diagnosis is not your identity. 

Read that again.

Your child's diagnosis is not your identity.

It is understood that:

*you need a way to clarify to others that your child (and therefore you as their support person) is in need of accommodations

*your participation in even the most mundane things may be limited or altered due to your child’s needs and/or your emotional/mental/physical/monetary energy after seeing to his/her needs

*you want to spread awareness and inspire acceptance

*you feel your life has been altered from what it might have been, by your child’s diagnosis

*your resources are likely stretched thinner by the specific needs of your child

*you occasionally want sympathy or empathy

*you feel your situation in life is made more unique by the caring for of a disabled child

*you are tired…of appointments, of therapies, of medication schedules, of hospital visits, of rotating care-givers, of meetings, of overreach, of emergencies, of damage, of replacing, of…of..of.. You are tired, and parents of “typical” children cannot even conceive of that level of exhaustion

It is understood.

We understand.

But the diagnostic terminology that defines how your child moves through this world is not a super-hero’s cloak, a physical identifier (as in: blue eyes, tall, blonde hair), their sole defining characteristic…

Or…

Yours to misappropriate.

It does not define you.

It does not explain you.

It is not yours.

Language matters.

Growing and learning when we are provided new, updated information matters.

...dollars vs. disappoinment...

 

One of the topics we’d planned on bringing up seems all the more relevant in this very moment, as a previous social media post touched on both the disappointment in not being able to attend a specific event, and the financial burden that attending would have been…all wrapped up within the context of disability and the budget line items that never get mentioned…or maybe, just aren’t realized by those “on the outside”.  

Beyond the very real non-negotiables that even the general public is usually aware of, if only on an ephemeral level: medication, therapy, treatment plans, consultation fees, special diets, technology, assistive devices, school fees, care-giver fees, specialized housing, adult services, etc… there’s the hidden costs to families of disabled children and/or young adults for participation (read also: the halfway realized attempts to satisfy inclusion practices).

Let’s take a little trip back in time, shall we? ↠↠↠

Rewind to Kindergarten…and all the classroom celebrations, chock full of party games, music, food and parental involvement (or, more realistically, parental observation). 

• That special diet? While everyone else is enjoying the “free food” supplied by class moms

 for the celebration, your parent has short notice to source and purchase similar items to send in

for you (most often, at minimum, twice as expensive as the brand-name commestibles

filling classmates’ plates) to ensure that you are safe from both allergens/trigger chemicals

and from classmates' observation that once again, your “difference” is being made an issue of.

• Loud music in the classroom causing sensory overwhelm?  Worry not…your parent

has already supplied the school with duplicates/triplicates of the pricey but effective

noise-dampening ear buds and sent in a second proprioceptive-input vest, while the

case-manager procrastinates, as only she can, on pushing through the paperwork that

would allow the school to use funding for classified students to purchase the appropriate

accommodating technologies and devices like these that you’ll need for school.

• The upset to your well-balanced system of routine and expectation as the rules go out the window

and the class ramps into overdrive for games and crafts instead of vocabulary drills?  No worries.

Mom took off from work (and took the pay cut) to be by your side and guide your little self through a

series of calming, restabilizing activities over in the corner where you both hope no one will notice

your uncontrollable reactions, while your classmates play holiday themed jumping games.

Whew…kindergarten was a rude awakening, wasn’t it?

Let’s skip ahead. Elementary school and the mainstream classroom.↠↠↠

• Teachers and aides “strongly recommend” that parents purchase similar items to what their child is using in class, for use at home during homework.  There goes that bank balance again, as the hand weights or adaptive writing tools or slanted workspaces or…or…or…are sourced at non-educator prices and your mother wonders what certification she’d need to use the educator discount…and whether she could work those classes into the budget. 

• Grade level parties?  Just take what you spent to make in-class parties tolerable and triple it.  Because whatever you send in, whether it be food or assistive tech, will be “borrowed” by other students and most-likely trashed…either literally dumped in the trash, or broken beyond repair.  And the treats you send in for Trunk-or-Treat or performance refreshments?  Guaranteed to mysteriously disappear despite all the bold sharpie labeling. So do remember to grab that second bag you packed up on your way out the door.

• You take meds?  During the school-day?  Cool, cool.  Have fun explaining to your insurance provider that once again, the school nurse has called home requesting additional refills.  Hmmm…oddly not covered.  Maybe a parent can take on a side job to pay out of pocket for those.  Oh, and while they are at it, make sure they can cover the cost of all those copays that stack up every single time your class has a fieldtrip and your medical paperwork suddenly requires a fresh signature from the doctor. 

Move-up ceremony commences. You’ve made it to middle school!↠↠↠ 

• Thinking of participating in sports like the rest of your classmates are doing?  No problem…the after-school program is totally ready to include and accommodate you…so long as your parents

are prepared to buy multiple pairs of the custom orthotics you need because for you, autism and stable stance are not friends.  Don’t worry if they feel a little uncomfortable.  The first pair will get ruined when you play on a wet field.  The second pair will get tossed by a coach who thought

they were garbage.  But you’ll get it figured out, with a flurry of phone calls, emails, and superglue. 

• Team doing well?  Hitting the road for the playoffs?  Good thing Mom works from home these days and can put off her work until 10pm when you both finally get back from an absolutely overwhelming bus ride home. It's fine...her blood is mostly caffeine these days. (Is coffee in excess a line item?)

• Oh, hey, now that you’re a 6th grader…let me introduce you to Spirit Days and Pep Rallies.  Super fun, for the neurotypical I’m told.  For you?  T.J.Maxx clearance racks have you covered, as you and your parent delight in a last-minute shopping spree to find something…anything…with the school colors and whatever cheesy theme some PTO mom came up with this year, that will fit comfortably over that proprioceptive input vest you usually hide under your extensive collection of hoodies. While the majority of your school files into the auditorium to scream and shout, enjoy the busy-work worksheets some administrator dredged up from the back of a file cabinet for you to fill out in the library and the company of one bored-bitter-Betty, her social media scrolling, and the sweet sounds of her sighs of boredom. 

• After-school events starting to trickle into the inbox?  In a “it’s an honor to be nominated” way, your family plays the “should we or shouldn’t we” game, trying to milk the budget to determine who should take off from work/what personal aide to hire/if 5 minutes of participation is worth the cost of yet another pair of earbuds and a whole package of treats. Meanwhile, the well-meaning PTO moms are reassuring your folks with empty promises of peer buddies and team-building.

• Middle school apparently comes with an all-inclusive package: say hi to your loaner Chromebook.  Time to hit the online shops and find a tilt platform so you can use it at home. Oh, you’ll probably need a secondary keyboard, custom fitted of course, as you struggle with those typing skills.  May as well go ahead and throw in a supplemental numeric keyboard because your visual-processing hits the brakes when you start searching for numbers mixed in with all those letters.

Congratulations, graduate! Here comes high school.↠↠↠

• Your family is invited to the freshman parents’ night.  A family friend stays home with you, while Mom plasters on a neutral expression and heads out for a fun night in the auditorium, internal calculator blowing a fuse as she tacks on expenses for every activity the administration assures her will be part of your exciting next four years.  

• Successful scholar?  Careful there…do too well and your IEP is at risk, and with it, say goodbye to school-provided provisions and accommodations. Who needs three meals a day?  Not Mom.  Her food allowance can totally go to all the extras you need to get through a school day. Now that your aide has been stripped, it’s time to start losing things as your executive functioning allowance only covers the middle 6 minutes of the class period. On the plus side, someone’s enjoying their new freebie…since, curiously, your items never make it to the lost-and-found. 

• With college on the horizon, maybe you decided to add some co-curriculars…say, the robotics team.  Oh, wait, are you me?  Ha! 

• The meal train set up by parents to feed the team during build season?

Mom’s not doing that…no, seriously, she’s not.  Why would she take

money from the family budget to feed everyone else, when no one ever looks

over that allergen form you all had to fill out at the start of the season and

supplies food that you can actually eat?

• Headed out to compete in-person?  First off, congrats!  Must feel amazing after two years of “virtual everything-pandemic style”. Now, I know it’s been a while since you had to worry about what to bring with you, so let’s make a quick checklist.

ㅁNoise dampening ear buds

ㅁNoise canceling headphone

ㅁSensory fidgets

ㅁ“OTC” meds and homeopathic remedies for the host of symptoms your body *will* respond to all that stimuli with

ㅁFood that fits your medically necessary diet

ㅁYet another permission slip signature copay from your doctor

***Do yourself a favor and stow it all in your team bag the night before and do try to remember to put everything “back where you got it from” while you are on-site, or risk the loss when once again, your overwhelm becomes a full on panic-attack.

• Victory sure does feel good, doesn’t it?  Your team has built one tough bot!  Going all the way to the World Championships!!!  The team, that is…not you.  You’ll be the one staying home, because it’s a multi-night overnight trip across the country…and that budget your family has been squeezing for extra coins all these years, doesn’t have  twice what your teammates have to pay.  Twice?  What? Why?  Oh, right.  You’re disabled.  And your disability makes a support-person a necessity for travel. Yup…airfare for two. Hotel accommodations for two.  And the team food plan?  Not applicable thanks to the special diet that keeps you healthy and level.  (You’re me?  Oh…make that 3 times it all then…since Mom is still nursing baby bro, he’s gotta make the trip as well.)  Sorry, buddy, you’ll be staying home to watch as the rest of your team ‘takes Houston’ and makes those connections that can last a lifetime.  Too bad your school doesn’t really understand what true inclusion involves.  Too bad real accommodations weren’t discussed/offered.  Too bad for you…alone…because they’re headed off to what’s going to be an amazing trip.

• Lest you get too entrenched in this particular disappointment, let me remind you that you’ll also be missing out on Prom, because there is No Way your mom can influence or berate the administration into making a sensory-safe environment there for you. 

• And the after-graduation all night Project Graduation party that the PTO is throwing?  I mean, maybe you’ll see pics on social media?  Same problem.  No solution.  Unless your family wins the lottery and can sponsor a sensory-friendly room at the adventure center.  

~~~~~~~~~

So here we are:

Is participation worth it?

Is the current inclusion model actually inclusive?

What’s the real cost to families of disable children/young adults

trying to level the playing field so that their child(ren) can attend?

How, if at all, do we go about encouraging change?

Just a thought here…a “see what sticks” moment.     

• Imagine, if you will, that the advisors for your Robotics team, already aware of your IEP and your diagnosis, sat down to discuss what would be needed to include you as a valued member.
• Imagine that, together with team sponsors, they approached your family with a plan to ensure that you would have a support-person for travel, safe options for food, and safe places to decompress if the sensory stimuli became too overwhelming.
• Imagine if the playing field were actually level.
• Imagine if your diagnosis was acknowledged, accepted, and actually accommodated.
• Imagine if your participation was actually of equal importance to your neuro-typical peers.

I’m sorry.

It’s disappointing. 

It’s reality, and it’s disappointing…again.

I'm sorry I haven't figured it out yet.

I'm sorry I haven't created the solution yet.

I'm sorry it hasn't been fixed yet.

I'm sorry your needs go unmet, unseen, unrecognized, unrealized...

I'm sorry your value to your team is minimized by your disability.

I'm sorry your id number in your class and grade is so easily deleted when your accommodations might require extra time or funding.

I'm sorry that only those closest to you know how much you would have wanted to be there, and how easy it would have been for administration to make actual accommodations, create an actually inclusive program, and level the damn field.

...battle bots and battle bits...

 From our team:

Out here in the real world (read:the shadowy universe outside the computer screen...scary, isn’t it?) it's the equivalent of the Nerd Olympics as our high school robotics team battles it out in the district championships. Trying to push these posts through at the same time is… well…no small challenge.

Here’s why:

Schedule conflicts: 

A bit different within the autism context then you might infer. While the actual schedule is, indeed, jam-packed with overlapping responsibilities and no shortage of double-bookings, it's the disruption to the schedule that causes the true conflict. Executive functioning...that ephemeral skill set that allows for neurotypicals and those unaffected by any deficit to appropriately prioritize tasks, manage time, respond to additional stimuli, etc.. -is, to put it mildly, extremely important and horrifyingly non-existent within much of the autistic community. 

Here’s a quick deep dive…ready, set…submerge! 

You walk into Target as an autistic. You’ve got your list: toothpaste, cereal, toilet paper, whatever.  You’ve got your wallet, and your phone, probably already logged into the Target app and ready to scan. You know what you are here to do. But then…one step in the door and the air is…different. It’s cooler/drier/chalky. It smells like plastic and perfume and body odor and shampoo and coffee and…and  …and.  Shallow breaths to acclimate. Shallow, hitching breaths as your brain-body connection overcompensates and triggers hyper-drive. Just wait, there’s more! The lighting is flickering. Each aisle… sometimes even, each panel, flickering at a slightly different wattage. One or two super bright bulbs draw your attention and your feet start off in that direction, independent of reason. And at the same time, there’s a hundred-plus individual conversations surrounding you like so many waves of sound. It’s as though your brain is on a swivel joint, locking in on one and then another and another and another, unsure if it needs to stay linked or not. Individual limbs seem to be trying to secede from the union as your autistic brain deems every bit of input equally important . . . equally actionable. You stumble or trip or careen or flail  . . . or defiantly scream silently STOP and freeze  . . . rigid  . . . not even allowing your lungs to inflate. Every single piece of sensory stimuli  . . . every single data point  . . . has hit you like a ton of bricks  . . . all at the same level of priority. Why? Because you don’t have a natural system of executive function. You didn’t come with the encryption key that handles prioritization. 

So here we are, at the Stabler Arena of Lehigh University, with our Team and with our team (Team 41-RoboWarriors. Go bot, go!!!) and the schedule is ...well, not. Sleep schedule? Disabled. Wake-coffee-breakfast-shower? Disabled. Morning routine? Disabled. Do I need to continue? No? Good.

Cause, me? Disabled.

Sensory Processing Overload:

Remember that Target trip? The lights and sounds and smells? The overwhelm and breakdown? 

Well, since Thursday early a.m. it’s been a tsunami for the senses here. From the relative calm and quiet (yeah, yeah  . . . I did say relative) of the jam-packed, caffeine-fueled, body-sprayed, sugar-giddy bus ride that seems to take longer each time, we arrived here in the arena. Thousands of students, advisors, parents and public  . . . with a handful of mascots, cops, military and scouts for good measure. Cheek to cheek and howl to scream. Blaring speakers. Flashing lights. Bots on speed. Students possibly also on speed. The volume is so ramped up that even the sensorily-challenged can feel it in their bones. The concrete floor practically pulsates with it. There’s scouting to be done, on our little handheld screens, and matches to analyze, and the jumbotron flashing ever-changing stats  . . . all competing with the overhead speakers and the emcees and our team advisors. Planted in too small and too short stadium chairs where the hard plastic cuts into back and thighs at equal intensity. Where legs have to be folded at accordion angles until the muscles scream for relief and you untangle to find a new suitable knot configuration. Where the constant stream of traffic of team members coming in and out means getting up and out of the way seemingly every time you’ve finally found a measure of comfort. It’s a battlefield, and I’m not just referring to the field where the bots are battling. Choking on air that’s at the same time too dry and practically sopping with teenage sweat and hormones. Pressed in like sardines. Deafened by the roar and wincing from the shrieks. Body temperature in constant flux. Face mask straps digging in. Team uniform scratching the skin with its coarse fabric. Nauseous from so much sensory input and adrenaline and caffeine. And straining…at all times…to focus down to one little pinprick of light in all the raging fireworks of sensory stimuli, to find out the bot to scout and mark its stats. There’s no off switch and no relief…just a constant barrage of attacking input (at a pace that puts our bots barrage of cargo to that high hold to shame!) that slowly wears you down to a quivering exposed nerve.

Emotional dysregulation:

Coupled with all the chaos of crowd activity is the very real emotional over-drive and override that comes par for the course with any event, no matter “the size” or the perceived import. Similar to sensory overload, emotional dysregulation means all those highs and lows and adrenaline hits…well, hit…at the same time and at the same very important level. So sitting here in the stands with the team, invested in our bot’s performance highs and lows, means a flood of every emotion in overlapping waves.  Drowning here, and no one knows it. The only option for deliverance is to just give in to the total system failure…emotional, not robotic (Go Team, Go!) and sink into the deep of numb.

Numb.

Gray rock.

Expressionless.

Not an empty shell, though from outside appearances it may look that way, but, in fact, a shell so compacted with emotional data that it’s become a black hole.

By the time a match ends and the scores flash our win across the screen, the fight to remain afloat is long since over and the surface you see is still and smooth…and empty.

~~~

But when all is said, it is April.

A month in which your attention is turned to the autistic community, and perhaps our only opportunity to be heard and seen and read.

So, needs must.

We speak and write and create and produce our advocacy…our experiential expertise…

for you to consume and adapt to  and learn from…

no matter our other obligations…

no matter the cost.

We’ll spend May in the fetal position.