#stimming great fantastic ill always support it

[kxllerblond]

roomie let me borrow her old ipod with some rando podcasts so i dont go 100% insane but i have to work with the guy who heavily vocal stims for SIX HOURS instead of my normal two and i might die i think

[streetsbound]

30 Days of Autism Acceptance- Day 2

I’m heartened to see the general well response that my first post had received. My topic for today is: What do I wish people knew about Autism? More than any other want, and at the heart of a lot of my own self-advocacy is this: Autism is a neurotype, not a disease or disorder. Sure, it is called autism spectrum disorder, I do think there is a lot of merit still in keeping that clinical definition just in terms of being realistic about it all- but I think fundamentally autism is just being different, not being afflicted with something. I am -essentially- autistic. It is not that I have this mental illness and there are struggles with that, it is that I am, at my very core, shaped my autism because it is how I perceive the world. It does not need to impair me, but it certainly does in many ways. I would say it is like that old joke: A man goes to the doctor, the doctor asks “what is the problem?” The man responds: “It hurts to move like this”. The doctor answers: “So don’t move like that. That will be $500 dollars.”

To be sure, no matter the acceptance of autism as a neurotype or the ways I am treated, it will alleviate the difficulties I have. I’ll always panic and grow anxious with making eye-contact. . . but. . . Why is that even a thing I need to do? If it causes me uneasiness, maybe I should just, not do it? That’s the core of it all. I’ve not been taught how to overcome my disability, I’ve been taught to be housebroken and convenient. I will have always been autistic, and so much of my problems have been from having to adjust myself to fit the world around me. I am autistic, but that doesn’t hold me back, it just means I work differently, I don’t need to be cured of being different- I just need to be able to be different.

I recall the two most important realizations in my progress to adulthood. The first was realizing how hurtful it was to myself and to others to be constantly wearing a mask of myself. It was too much of a strain, and I do regret the damage it caused me to do that. The second was much more recently, realizing that I was not broken- but that I was just different. I want to repeat that. I was not broken, I just did not fit in. That alone has kept me from so much harmful behavior to myself, and has let me work to stop holding myself back.  So- why is it important to stress autism as a neurotype? Because most people who are not autistic would struggle immensely in a society built around autistics. Let me flip the typical script on you.

“I absolutely do not envy the neurotypical! How horrible it has to be to not be autistic? What is it that drives you to want to learn if you don’t get that fantastic joy? Don’t you know how awful it is that you’re all so still? You poor people never fidget, never are able to soothe or self-stimulate through repetitive motions. It has to be so limiting to not know how amazing those good stims are. I’m so sorry that you have to go through life only being able to express your emotions with frowns and smiles and eyes- that you don’t get to feel your emotions just pouring out of you in tremendous extremes that make you -need- to be physical. And your communication problems! The non-autistic are so clumsy with communication, they’re so tied to words and yet they don’t even use them correctly because they are constantly reading more into them, or putting double meaning into words. They rely so much on nuance and subtlety that I don’t know how they manage expressing themselves so inauthentically. I do appreciate the puzzle it presents to play this game of communication, but don’t neurotypicals just wind up using others? How do you handle the blandness of not retreating into worlds inside yourself?”

I know already the common response: Sure it is great for -you- to say this, you’re not that autistic. You’re not entirely Nonverbal. You’re not high support. There’s a lot to unpack within this statement, but I think it would be best to ask how many have not just provided care or worked with those folks, but have actually connected with them? Have you taken time to see what they’re expressing? The internet is right here, they are currently writing and communicating and expressing. Heck, some have even written wonderful books (I would recommend the very cliché Ido Kedar for this). I certainly have interacted with those folk, and it’s strange to me. It’s as though, despite the prevalence of nonverbal body language and expressions and cues, allistic people don’t really grasp nonverbal modes of communication. But it’s something I’ve been able to interact with. Don’t touch them, don’t touch their things, don’t press them to speak or force eye contact. Just be with them on their own terms, be receptive to what they demonstrate or express. Let them be dependent, but in their own way. There’s a whole world of wonderful autistic “voices” in the world of the nonverbal or “severely autistic”, and there’s so much beauty to find- you just need to allow it to express itself!

The beauty of acceptance is recognizing difference, and being okay with that. Let us advocate for ourselves and the world will be so much better for what we bring to it.

[pastelacrylics]

im gonna throw up bc i feel sick but this one’s for you babe 😘

Assault TW under the cut

Alright so the date started out pretty fucking fantastic and we were just being dumb kids and playing basketball, harmless and fun, right? right. anyways it was pretty good shit. we went downstairs and like an idiot i try to show him my favorite video game. it doesnt go well and he gives up but whatever. then my sister (i love her shes great and joined us up until this point) suggested playing minecraft. now, i hate minecraft. it is all the wrong shapes and triggers my ocd. i have lots of trouble with this and its dumb, i know. seeing that i was upset, he was pretty nice and said “maybe later” but like then suggested watching greys anatomy

now greys anatomy is the shit. i love it. its my absolute favorite show but it freaks my little sister out so she left. nows a good time to mention that prior o the date i said i wanna take shit really slow. like super fucking slow. that im autistic and it takes me a while to get comfortable with physical contact and i dont want that. that im ace and not interested in sex wit him. that he should avoid sexual situations bc idk what ill do. that i dont even romantically like him, just have lots of excited positive feelings about him.

i was alone with this boy. in the basement. note: i always go to the basement, and my brothers always make me uncomfortable when theyre down there. im not loud. there is essentially nothing i can do at this point. we watch a vague amount of greys, and i curl up into a tiny fucking ball. this is my normal. everyone on the fucking planet knows this is my normal. he ask if i want to cuddle, and i dont really say yes or no, but i was definitely telling him i was uncomfortable and wanted to take things slow. he cuddles me anyways, but he triggers a pressure stim so i assume it will be fine. eventually we stop watching greys and i recount all the noncon/ abuse so he gets why ive gotta take it slow

im not entirely sure how it got to this but before our vaguely sexual act he kept staring at me weird and i kept telling him to stop. he kept asking or trying to kiss me and i kept saying no. i dont know how many times i said no that night. after that he started touching my skin, but like in a nice stimmy way. i was okay with it. it reminded me of one of my friends comforting me, it was familiar. he started going towards my chest- note: im dysphoric as all hell and do NOT like my chest being messed with if i dont trust you. (Also some time during my telling him about my past he started trying to pull me into his lap. i only now realized its so id be sitting on...... anyways) i did not say no. i wanted to try. i wanted to be okay. eventually he pulled at my shirt and bra. eventually i was exposed. i said nothing. this was not something i wanted or was comfortable with, but this was MY doing. i started crying. i told him to stop. i told him no more for the night. i told him no more contact, yeah i was kinda turned on but i was overwhelmed, i was done, and i wanted to STOP. I told him it was done. We could continue to hang out, watch tv, he could go home when he assumed, but he would stop touching me. he told me “sometimes you need to push your boundaries” I tried to convince him to fix his problem so he would fucking leave me alone. he refused. we ate dinner. i grabbed another jacket and went to the bathroom or whatever. i went back down, curled up again. he tried shit again. i told him to stop. he asked if we could “cuddle” i said okay. he started involuntarily bucking. i told him this. i told him it was funny but to stop. he said okay. he didnt stop. he kept going. eventually i gave up. my brother came down and i had 15 minutes of peace. we started watching anime. he was staring at me creepy. he forced me into his lap. i told him to stop. i told him no. (i went nonverbal while he was bucking and this was him assuming i was “okay” again i guess idk it was gross) i was pushed onto my back. he pulled my shirt all the way up. he did what he fucking wanted. i gave up. he sucked on my nipples, he left a bruise on one. he moved onto my neck. he left another one there (i dont bruise easily, and i got it to fade quickly because i hated looking at the proof, and my body doesnt generally take to bruising) i was on my back. he moved my hand so i would be getting him off. he started to take his fucking belt off. i told him to stop. i told him it was time to go. I was not being penetrated without my permission ever again. he didnt want to leave. he asked me “that did nothing for you?” no. no it didnt do anything for me. i told you no. i told you i didnt want it. you make me sick. i just told him “no” and laughed it off

i told him to get an uber. i tried to kick him out. it was another 5-15 minutes of silence and avoiding touching him as he waited for his ride to come. i walked him to the door, and locked it. my mom immediately knew something was wrong. she asked me what happened. instead i wanted to throw up, and i went to bed. i told my best friend, and ex. my ex was really fucking good to me about all of this. he left his fucking hat and i want to burn it. i hate all men. i hate teenage boys. i hate misoginy. i hate that i didnt believe the last girl who was assaulted, who told me, because he lied to me. i hate that i can be clearly scared, and youd rather believe him. i hate that youre angry at me for this. i told the girl i didnt believe i was sorry, i confirmed something with the girl i fought with last year, i told my best friend and my ex. i told twitter “something happened” on private so a friend at lunch could see. i told an older friend so i could ask for help. i told my other best friend. (7 people online) but in person?   i quietly told 1 friend at the beginning of the day, 1 teacher who i thought could help me avoid him, 1 friend in my group that i couldnt participate (she was his ex, shed understand) and you. thats when i fucing told you. next i told a girl who i knew was vulnerable to that bullshit, then a teacher so i wouldnt have to. see him in the next class. then i threw up and went home. didnt even tell our last friend at lunch. he doesnt know what happened. he might assume based on the other two girls but i didnt say shit. (6 people in person) ...the teacher i asked to help me avoid him told my councelor and my principal and my mom was called. I said i was going to talk to my therapist first but that didnt fucking matter, did it? no one fucking gives a shit about me and im just making this up right? I had to recount details to my mom. she said it didnt count as assault because i. wasnt penetrated (legally it does) she said it wasnt bad enough. that i asked for it. that i should have been more fucking clear. that i. was sending mixed messages. that she went through so much worse. that it wasnt worth ruining his life over. that it wasnt worth sending him to jail over, that it wasnt worth having him marked a predator over (3 girls minimum have been attacked)  because im just fucking lying about this, right? and you dont believe me? well i cant fucking believe you. go eat lunch with someone else, and in the mornings im gonna hang out in the only classroom in the school that will protect me from him even though shitty people will be there too.  and babe? he told me hes glad im not mad. that ill see him again “soon ;)” he sucked on my lip and made me feel violated. but misoginy is so ingrained in us that you dont fucking support survivors, and you never support me. I love you but im so fucking done.