Being 41 years old, and having been diagnosed with an autism-related disorder for about 20 years, I think it's time to say something about what being autistic is like.
It's like there's a way that the world is supposed to be, that everyone actually knows it's supposed to be like, even if a few millionaires and fascists think that it shouldn't be that way because it would interfere with their claim to power. And then there's the way the world is, which we all know falls sorely short of what it should be, due to a lack of organization. Yes, in fact, it's not that we don't have the resources to keep everyone in food and shelter and give them education and healthcare and a sense of belonging in their community and all that, it's just that these resources are badly organized. I don't think that's a big secret. And then we have people who give up, who let this disorganization and injustice and oppression slide because - well, they always have a multitude of reasons. Millions of reasons to give up. And then there's me, being annoying and being excluded from my community because I don't know how to give up. Because I keep expecting people to keep their word, to live by the rules they set. Because I keep believing other people matter just as much as I do.
That's what being autistic is like. Being made to feel bad because everyone else is busy with their own problems and you're the only one trying to fix everything. Being excluded because everyone else wants to reduce the forest to its generic forest-ness in order to diminish its importance and justify tending to their own tree above all others, and you're the only one who can see the forest is made up of nothing but trees.
No comments:
Post a Comment