I wrote on my other site last fall when Match.com was spun off by IAC/InterActive Corp (a company with a very bad PR record.) I explain how much Match charges and how I haven’t found a special someone, and how many dating sites to the point the DOJ should break up the company.
As dictated by Corporate America, in mid January it’s now the season for Valentine’s Day, despite less than a month away. I’d thought I’d share my Top 5 hearbreaking songs, since listening to the easy-music station in my preteen years, was more than likely an oman of my hopeless romance I’d encounter well past adulthood.
I’ve learned a lot in 2015. And now hello 2016, and let me tell you what I’ve learned from last year to not repeat again this year.
Oh and some of these advice doesn’t come from me originally. I’ve been around to be around my autistic (or Dev Disabled) peers and they are just as risk-on to life like how I will become.
2015 was an important year to learn how NOT to be inspired, how NOT to follow other people, how NOT to be like “others” and how NOT to be yourself. I’ve learned don’t do anything, just give up. That’s my plan for 2016.
As 2016 gets older, I will give you blunt advice on how to not take any risks and just avoid community altogether because as experts in this state will say “the real world” is harsh.
*hoping my brain will explode once and for all*
If a god does exist, supposedly “he” wouldn’t read blogs (or this memo for that matter.)
Dear God (if there is one to exist)
Why did you create me?
If you were the creator, then why did you put me here? I don’t feel that I serve a purpose. I don’t know why other than I’m a gift of my mother that I’m here. Why did you put me here despite you knowing my family would likely fall apart? Why give me a fractured family? Other than my mother, who else am I supposed to be here for? What am I supposed to do? What have I done wrong? I feel like I’ve done “bad” things. I can never figure out the moral compass, it was defective, just like my brain, I feel partially brain dead.
What did I do so wrong to be punished be treated like a resident third world hellhole?
Am I really the devil’s child? I’m I really a product of something “good”?
I felt like I did so many wrongs in the world, and I’m sorry to let you down, if you really exist. I can understand why I don’t have any friends of romantic relationships because I am a defective human being that also did too many wrongs instead of “right”.
Excuse me while I refuse to pray as that didn’t seem to go anywhere recently.
For me to not be a hopeless autistic, I would love the following
That’s all I ask for this year.
Over the last few months, I’ve brought up a reoccurring character named “Doctor” in name only Teresa Bolick, of Westford, Massachusetts and why she is causing the autism crisis in my state. She is a very odd individual that spends a lot of time in both the very racist and ablest state in Massachusetts and the state of New Hampshire, which over the last several years has started to follow Massachusetts’ lead of their ablest agenda (and yes it’s more than just the JRC as many advocates are in a hissy about.)
It has come to my attention and I might have come to my senses for the next year (assuming no help arrives to assist me) that I may very well be having problems accepting my autism more than anything else. This same disorder that has been with me virtually since birth.
It could very well that I may have been in denial not just in the middle to high school years, but even in my first ten years as being an adult, despite denying it and trying to act mature by moving forward. I know I’ve been diagnosed with my autism over the years, but I’ve yet to understand and grasp what makes me who I am and why I can’t move forward. I don’t know what’s going on in my mind. I feel my brain is dead in some parts.
I might as well not expect so much and really get used to being treated like a child afterall. Perhaps I do need to be reminded and talk to like a child. Perhaps I have put my ego too high and I was too “rosey”. Maybe I am not as “normal” as I think I was. I figured I was tone deaf and didn’t understand the difference between “it’s not your autism” vs. something that is autistic.
All I want to say is just like all the other low/mod functioning types of the annoying and generic “I’m sorry” when they feel bad about something they did “wrong.” I may as well be on this functioning level and I’ve been denying this all along.
These senses may give me a path; but regardless I don’t see much happening for the better. I still feel like a hopeless autistic.
I look back at my second decade of life and I’ve realized that the longer I’ve stayed with my mother, the more f*****d myself up with my future. I’ve lived with my mother, instead of living on my own (and thanks to Medicaid’s perverted system on “community based support waivers”) there is really no such thing as Section 8 anymore. I’m unable to afford to live in this state thanks to very high taxes spent for those goddamned children and going to rich Caucasian towns like Londonderry, Dover, or someplace like that. Can I go to a group home? Well, group homes are politically incorrect, because EVERY AUTISTIC in the world must be accepted by the community according to these rosey agendas made by special interest groups by rich caucasians and never rich or poor African Americans (whose the real racists?)
Today is a Throwback Thursday narrative to this day 5 years ago. I moved out of town for the first time in my life, after moving to three neighborhoods as a kid. Londonderry had already abandoned me before I could abandon them. The area agency was no help, and I would switch over to a new area agency that I get day services through with Medicaid Waiver funding* and a new client directed services, which was so Greek, I’m not used to directing my own goals and pathways.
*I use this terminology to educate the public about the two types of Medicaid, and this isn’t the health insurance part, this type of Medicaid is not well known.
I moved to my new community with really nothing on my back other than my family 
and belongings. I remember watching the crystal ball drop – the similar one shown from my visit to Manhattan in April (just to know, the ball sticks around after New Years – just another reminder that any day in the year can be a New Year.) Meanwhile as the ball started to descend down, I noticed that I would start streaming tears. All the emotions of the previous two years after high school graduation, the pain and suffering a decade before, was getting released and tried to let it all go.
I broke down.
I don’t know who I’ll be watching tonight, (I haven’t watched Dick Clark since his stroke and passing, the Fox News Channel used to be my go to once they got rid of two good news anchors, Bill Hemmer and Megyn Kelly; and Carson Daily is still on overnights, do people even watch him?)
I don’t know what my emotions will be, but I am hoping that 2016 brings some hope. I didn’t anticipate how 2015 would be written. That’s what life is. You don’t know what crap will come and hit you. All you can do is stand tall and be strong and try to get through a day without falling into pieces. Many days this past year, I just couldn’t get up and some weeks (only a few) where I called in and didn’t show up to my program.
What I can say, is I believe there is hope, just you need to at times dig harder, and work more to find it. Perhaps to HFAs that’s “inspiration porn” but you know, maybe having some inspiration will help all autistics – in my state – of course.
I’m planning tomorrow to start with a clean slate, and just not anticipate or predict what happens; just get through a day and deal with it as it happens.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good night.
I feel like an ol timer bringing up my past experiences like “when I was your age, we had [blahblahblah].”
It seems like in today’s narrative this will be one of those cases.