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how to scream and beg very loudly for attention while not sounding desperate or like I have needs?

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I’ve recently been processing some heavy realizations about my childhood, and it’s bringing up so many emotions. I’m autistic, and I now clearly understand how my autism shaped my experiences with abuse, especially how my autistic traits triggered more severe punishments from my mother. Growing up, I constantly lived in fight-or-flight mode, and I’ve now learned that the trauma was so severe that my body shut down key developmental systems as a protective measure. It took actual medical evidence, blood work and clinical diagnoses to finally be validated, even by my father (who didn’t raise me and had another family) . This validation has been both relieving and incredibly painful.

My mother, herself severely traumatized by an abusive childhood in foster care, repeated similar cycles with me. I endured intense physical violence, emotional neglect, and psychological manipulation from as young as three or four years old. Something as simple as accidentally spilling a drink due to spatial difficulties would result in beatings and severe punishments. I was frequently isolated, starved, humiliated, and physically harmed in ways no child ever deserves. I was made to sleep naked on the floor for months. To wear dirty clothes to school and forced to use the bathroom in my room and hid it as if I left my room during punishment I was beaten more. Beaten with objects and forced isolation. Among other creative forms of punishment.

Because of my autism, I struggled with understanding constantly changing rules and the unpredictable mood swings of my mother, who also has bipolar disorder. I lived under impossible standards, and my inability to anticipate or perfectly follow arbitrary rules intensified the abuse. The constant vigilance and fear severely impacted my emotional, cognitive, and physical development, contributing to lifelong medical complications, mental health challenges, and a deep sense of isolation and confusion.

One of the most painful patterns was how any moment meant to bring me joy, healing, or recognition would become a trigger for my mother. Whether it was a birthday, an achievement, or receiving help from a teacher or program my mother would take it as a personal attack or spotlight theft. She would often sabotage those moments, punish me afterwards, or create crises that turned the attention back to her. These moments taught me that my happiness or growth was dangerous, and any attempt to advocate for myself or receive care would result in retaliation.

It pains me deeply that despite repeatedly trying to speak up, even during clearly visible signs of distress. My pleas for help were ignored or minimized by adults in my life, including those meant to protect me. It has taken decades to unravel the damage caused by this invalidation.

One of the most painful patterns was how any moment meant to bring me joy, healing, or recognition would become a trigger for my mother. Whether it was a birthday, an achievement, or receiving help from a teacher or program, my mother would take it as a personal attack or spotlight theft. She would often sabotage those moments, punish me afterwards, or create crises that turned the attention back to her. These moments taught me that my happiness or growth was dangerous, and any attempt to advocate for myself or receive care would result in retaliation.

It pains me deeply that despite repeatedly trying to speak up—even during clearly visible signs of distress—my pleas for help were ignored or minimized by adults in my life, including those meant to protect me. It has taken decades to unravel the damage caused by this invalidation.

As I work through therapy and continue my journey toward healing, I am confronting the grief and anger of having to prove the severity of my trauma medically for it to be believed. I’m angry, hurt, and trying to reconcile how my own family’s denial compounded my suffering.

Sharing this publicly feels important, even though it’s incredibly difficult. I’m hoping it might offer comfort to someone else out there navigating similar trauma or validating experiences.

Thank you for reading. Stay safe, everyone.

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I deserve to be held. I deserve to be embraced. I deserve to be treated with kindness. And I deserve to be understood.

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My ADHD: I cannot clean it feels like putting my hand on a hot stove

My autism: Things aren't in order I feel like I'm going to explode I have to clean there has to be order

My ADHD: I feel like going to explode because I physically cannot clean my brain won't let me

Me: Guess we just feel horrible then