This year, I rebooted the Hopeless, Outspoken, Alleged “Autistic”, No community was built. Perhaps I had been slandered as an “ableist” in 2015 that never went away. For whatever reason, in 2011 to 2012 I had something going. I still have screengrabs of the Google search referrers.
In the next 10 months, my goal is to move out, and away from the system and worse the horrific narc people in this fucking part of Southern New Hampshire and say fuck you bitches!
I don’t know how I can do this, but I like this to be a private goal. I am so done with being treated like crap and then be blamed for everything that’s said about me. No one else shares any responsibility. Ironically it’s women not just the men that are doing it.
Let me begin with a few things that drives me nuts online on places like YouTube with regards to human interactions.
I do not hate women (but I barely trust men) This is a result of a couple videos where I’ve heard people say that people “hate women” or women “hating men”. I do not want to say that I have “hated women” to the point I have checked out. This happens on both genders and probably both sides of the poli spectrum. I don’t like women who have a lot of power who are not accountable, and men who are so cocky in their egos, that it scares me. I am in an utter distrust with women, and I strongly dislike men as narcissism and masculinity often gets meshed together.
I never expected someone to “rescue” me – I have not expected someone to “save me” or “come and fix my broken self”. Let me go to that “broken” state, it maybe a phrase I use often to describe myself and even if the phrase was never said explicitly, it was very implicit. The underlying problem is to treat the person with an ASD type of condition to be extremely typical, and statically treat them typically even in a meltdown, if you failed in the meltdown episode, then you are deemed to not be good enough (I am saying that phrase loosely, very loosely. So I was “broken” by proxy, by the enablers that disabled me (ex teachers/paras case managers, DSPs, other managers and those case managers in adult ages.) When you are delegitimized in a small group, and if you can’t fit into a small community, let alone a larger community.
Yet our media, our institutions or worse the community are saying nothing about ASD, and even if they, it’s just passive. The lifestyle is horrible, even for a higher functioning.
The only way to reverse the damage, is NOT self-love, I do not believe that at all. The only way to treat the hopelessness is someone with a big heart that with expectations yours truly would return the favor. I don’t know why I have not found that person yet. CPTSD or not, or trauma wounds or not. I felt my depression and sadness was state not just trait, but that if the state anx/depression went down, then things would’ve turned around for the better, but yet again fucking COVID19 just had to make my life a living hell.
If you can’t even cultivate your own community, hell if I can’t even find self employment because my social network is so brittle, and any attempts to go back to the job market, and hell if I can’t even feel confident to go into college, how can everyone with autism say it’s a blessing and an entirely a gift, that even a higher function guy can’t even function?
I don’t think even for a higher functioning autistic, there is no way to recover.
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20 to 25 acquaintances that claim to “always be there”.
I have roughly 36 contacts, they are all professional. I lied there’s 1 or 2 that’s it! To establish LTRs for friends in my life has been a challenge, and even though it’s always been perceived as my fault, there’s nuances that show the other side is worse than a stereotypical autistic.In fact I’ve had more “narc” friends than I have with people who were truly empathic. By the way “narc” that rhymes with “mark” just the diff is there’s an “N” that is short for narcissists.
These are the people I didn’t ask to to be in my life, but these are the groups of people I have no choice being around. I don’t get why narcs are drawn to us. Are we easy bait?
Acquaintances are not as flexible as what friends are. Acquaintances lack the ability to be casssh, and “Facebook-friends” are just no different, worse they are sucking your vulernabilities you post on the platform; as a feedback loop for their own empowerment, that you’re not allowed to have. “Friends” can have deeper meaning, because apparently “autistics can’t have nice things“, the running issue is I can’t seem to get a lucky break in the last decade.
All this shit that people like to preach about the “true meaning” of friends, I’ll say this, I will refuse to listen to advice ever again to any “expert” who thinks they know everything about my condition. For this kind of stuff to continue to circulate with thousands of more narcs continuing to rape the system; the only way to recover is to identify who you’re looking for and that’s the only way to get out.
People may say Laconia is closed, but Laconia still to this day exists in a more worse fashion, through being isolated, clients being routinely gaslit, and being forced to be seen and not heard in the so-called “community“. And all I can say is, just look at the hundreds of post from the last decade and not deny that what I say can be at least 49% true…No. Well GTFO this page then!
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A job interview or a first date? I had doubted this in a DM on Instagram approx mid winter to a well-known broadcast journalist in re to mental health.
I’d say the latter, because with a job interview there is legal obligations to not judge someone with limited experiences (or let me just say… they can’t say it out loud.
The first date is actually the worse, because they can react, they can basically walk away in midst. Who knows. Since it’s not politically correct to say that women are easily triggered now, they don’t tolerate any type of man anymore. Women want perfection, they can drive themselves, they can be self sufficient financially, etc. They don’t want a mama’s-boy even if the individual wants to break those chains.
Um yeah… just make sure you keep your autism in check, and not say the first date is actually the first, because that would make your pervasive condition even more obvious. The dream-girlfriend figure whose all open and caring is no longer the standard.
The phrase “hitting the wall” refers to women hitting 30 or 35 without a man or any type of relationship because of apparent prejudices of men (whether it’s realistic or imagined, say inflated from abuse) and their abilities to reproduce (if they want to) becomes harder. The phrase actually is part of a long vulgar glossary of the movement known as Men Going Their Own Way or better known as MGTOW, of which got legitimized over the last five years as this was once a fringe and cringe group.
For me, I felt I “hit the wall”, many, many years ago. As early as 21 or even 18, once I realized that it was probably at that time in the mid 00s I had no more purpose in life. My life really passed by at that point, and the “flashes” was more of a reminder that of that infamous message on old 8-bit games of “Game Over”. By the way this is not influenced by any means by that hack in Toronto known as Jordan Peterson (once nicknamed Jordi on The Weekly Zoo.)
In the last decade, I wanted to be proven wrong, having the status “Hopeless Autistic” doesn’t just make people look at you weirdly, but it’s a motivator that there is some potential your life is not a complete waste. But in those 10 years that had followed, including a prolonged pandemic, and if anything there has been claims that being infected with COVID19 adds more age with or without the vaccine. At the last check there’s claims it adds 5 years to your age.
But as I am now 35, as I see the remaining light flare passed me by… I realized that now there’s really little hope. Was this my fault or could I take better responsibility? Yes I could’ve and tried to take responsibly in full; whether or not taking responsibility sooner to avoid hitting that wall cannot be determined.
I tried to do everything and anything in my power to get out of hell of bondage of extreme alpha-mom figures creeping into my life because they have no one else to care for. Unlike the women who have “hit the wall”, they also have done-it too, another vulgar name calling is the “riding the [male genital] caesural” I can’t remember the last time I had such physical encounters via touching an non female family member. I spent the last ten years trying to do anything and everything to break the barriers. It seems like other groups have been able to do so, hell people with more visible disabilities have it easier, despite the 4 years of regress from POTUS Trump in the last 10 than what I had to go through.
Autism is now 1 in 44 cases, and yet there still hasn’t been much attention to the people over the age of 35 because apparently my group’s autism is not as great as the GenX/vaccine injured children who are in their 20s where all the attention is at.
Autism was and never will be my primary identity; but it did become that by others because of their reckless actions, the ableist tendencies, even from within. Factor that autism is more common with males and the underlying sexism that typical males are often subjected to. With all this comes into play, it’s not that I am some Buzz Lightyear figure who’s an alpha male and pisses his lifespan trying to “fix” something (can you say that’s “hitting the wall”?) All I wanted since I close to 13, to repair the things that were intentionally broken (the subtle sexism, the label placement, and the complete writeoffs because the DSM-says-so.)
The only thing I suggest for people younger than me is to learn to be a better fighter than I was. I was too harshly aggressive to be a self-advocate. And this is why I am very critical of many of the activists because if they aren’t properly messaging their ideals properly; then everyone hurts and I have to hate you all because you have given my group a bad name. Yes I am talking to you ASAN aholes!
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My mother’s social network is very small, mostly two couples, that lean hard right. That barely understands this hot mess of my ASD, that is slightly below typical, but slightly above the average atypical. One of her “friends” has an un’dx case of ADHD, because of course it’s just like ASD. Notice how sarcastic I mean… it’s completely different. While the Fraud on Broad is dead, I believe this what infers to my “low-average IQ” that Ms. Bolick was selling to “the system” as broken-goods.
I have suspected my brain is heading to severe damage. This is by no means this is being light hearted. Between the damages occurring at the end of the 20th Century, the injustice from that time; to the chaos that was during COVID, getting COVID, and continued mix of sheltering in place and being quarantined during the infection; and the lack of a near term outcome has put a lethal mix going forward. I already was damaged prior to March of 2020, the pre, present and post pandemic situation has made my situation at no point of recovery.
I am afraid I am going to die with my brain exploding internally from all the stress and anxiety that has went skyfold 2 years ago and suspecting it could be another 2 years of uncertainty and lack of stability, and responsibility being pushed solely on me.
I am so angry… I ask myself why I have to be on the receiving end yet again? Why can I not function? Why is everyone around me appears to me to be inpatient and I choose to be who I am?
Autism is not a choice.
Life is not a choice.
Hierarchal children do not ask to be born.
Satan: please take this soul way, I am at a loss now.
I am not allowed to be sad, not because of my autism, because it’s too-much for the people in my life.
I do not like to be depressed either, but sadly since my late teens, I have not been allowed the chance to emote properly. The highest range is happiness, and the lowest range is mildly sad. If I have long face, that sends triggers to the mama-bear who feels a need to “fix” the problem to make her feel better. Because the old woman cannot distance herself from the lower thresholds of emotion, I cannot be sad. And if I am sad, she becomes sad.
So sadly, I have been stoic for the last two years in an unique way. I am gracefully being happy while so much shit has been falling to the fan behind me. My mother prides on a quote from a no-name author with zero credentials of “Your only happy if you have the happiest child”, some random BS like that. And being the only child, just makes that pressure even worse, and the mother who can’t sympathize with the autistic child, I mean hierarchal autistic child, doesn’t get it and she refuses to understand.
I know i have a survival rate of 2 years if SHTF, but it has not been tested for a really bad recession (of which I had been calling since 2019) to follow a pandemic. I do not care how my mother wants to spin a version of reality, I want to be able to feel the way I need to feel, and my mother wants to project arrogance (masqueraded as “pride” – of everything’s chill.) At this point the ol woman is acting like a notorious abusive man.
The inability to have proper emotional control has made the situation inherently worse than like any child of any age, to have the self trademarked feelings of present events. To dismiss and project, is basically gaslighting. And if my mother is wondering why my contact has been limited, to even in some instances no-contact while living 24x7x365 for the last couple of years, her brused ego has gotten in the way for me to process the emotions I want to process.
I do not sense any level of recovery anytime soon. I think the best days of my life have passed by me by pure maternal politics and unreasonable control over autonomy and the only way to grieve is silence. Then she wonders why I am so quiet, but the moment I start talking, she goes back to the projection, unhealthy optimism and poor feedback when it comes to empathy.
As my mother would say (and I never use this personally) I cannot win.
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While it was 28 years ago I was diagnosed with a now outdated diagnosis from the previous version of the DSM…
In the last few years, my legacy was written when it was told to me just over 22 years ago. The PDD-NOS diagnosis is really a definition of unable to do anything. It was then I was delegitimized. It was then my condition would then turn my situation into feeling inadequate…incompetent…feeling or causing despair about something… oh wait did I use my Dictionary.app and find the definition of “hopeless”? For fuck sakes alive… I thought I was being some cultist thinking all of this was some bad dream I was living the life!
Well regardless, for many who were 80s babies (like me – totally forgotten and non existent to society) – being told you had PDD-NOS in the 90s was like getting the death sentence. It’s not even close to melodrama…
In 2019, the political pollster, Frank Luntz told Frontline in a raw interview the following
“And everyone who speaks in that language that dismisses a community or dismisses somebody else, we are not just trashing them. We are dehumanizing them; we are delegitimizing them. And when you get that far, that you have no right to exist, that you have nothing to contribute to society, when we make that decision, that there is no recovering; there is no coming back, because you cease to exist. And that is where we are right now. And it scares the shit out of me because you can’t show me a time when democracy recovered.”
Frank Luntz, on the division of the US recorded in late 2019, click on the link to see this in context.
But again I must be some cultist who just is on the web too many hours a day, acting unruly with a parent that has allowed his kid to (in some ways) to mess around and not have to deal with accountability of which, kids (adults or children) have to screw around to learn risk and I have had my share of paying for responsibility… in some ways a lot more than for others that should take some responsibility and be accountable for their in-actions.
Of course, I can’t control the other’s not respond of course, I don’t need that speel again.
There’s a reason why I go-silent. Because I lost it at trying to telegraph how I feel and how others just want to really shut me up. As much as I feel that my mother should burry me, on one hand, I would feel worse for my gram and by Bachiyan (my paternal grandmother)… at least in that context I should be burying them, but in the last several years I have felt very, very distraught, and there is no point to go back to my childhood where it seemed I didn’t have to worry about my reputation and constantly check on my social capital every few minutes.
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