Category Archives: autism

The Speech I Made to the Parents Yesterday

I’m happy to speak to you today.
I am here to represent the point of view of people with autism who don’t speak. Some of you might be parents of non-verbal people like me and stopped believing it was possible that your child could ever learn communication or even to understand.
I don’t doubt that experts probably told you that it was false hope to imagine that your child could talk. Well, I don’t talk but I still go to regular middle school in regular classes and do regular homework and schoolwork, and I get good grades of A’s and B’s. I tell you this, not to brag, but to give you hope.
I don’t need to talk with my mouth. It’s too hard. But I’m able to communicate thanks to my letter board and dynawrite. It was a long journey to get to here from where I started. I had years of silence and rotten frustration. I was totally not able to show people I understood, so I suffered inside while my specialists chose wrong for me.
It was the worst, and I know it’s kind of equally challenging for parents too.
But here’s my hope. I went from so bored in school in remedial education when I couldn’t communicate to a diploma path in high school next year. How, is the story of the potential in your kids.
Teach them interesting things. Read them age appropriate books. Talk normally to them. Not, “go car”, “say hi”, “good job”. I believe many autistic people are understanding inside and can’t show it. To be talked to like a baby is so frustrating.
The letter board was my freedom. This is it.
It takes a while to learn how to use it, but it’s worth it.
Communication is the most important thing.
Autism is a deep pit. Don’t give up.

Speaking in Public

I spoke to a group of middle school and high school students today. When I get nervous I get so restless. I pace and I devour all the snacks. Wish I could modulate my emotions better when I stand before an audience. Now I get so nervous. Especially today. I was being interviewed by the audience and I was being filmed. Now it’s like a time trial. I have to do better each time.

On a sort of silly note, I’m required  to recite a poem in my English class. It’s a state requirement apparently. I guess paralyzed students are also required to sprint in p.e. or the deaf kids must sing in choir.

I need to stand in front of the class in poised, dramatic style. Ha ha ha ha. My speech is monotone and garbled. I am pacing and nervous. It’s my worst abilities. Not my strengths. Well, we’ll see how it pans out. Ha ha.

High School and Beyond

I was thinking how sorry I am to leave my middle school for high school. Well, not sorry exactly. I’m nervous and excited. I will be the pioneering non-verbal autistic person in regular education in high school. In middle school I wasn’t the only autistic kid. I was the only one in my classes though. It’s a long journey from my rudimentary autism class in elementary school to regular education in high school. It’s really weird in a way because I am so stuck in my silence, however I am not trapped in it like I was. I can communicate in my typing/pointing techniques and I am out in the world because I can express my ideas.

In high school I will have to really work hard on self control, on homework, on sitting all day, on proving myself once again. Now it is becoming easier. I’m nervous, not stressed to my roof. I think I can do it, and get my diploma, and even go to college. This is my goal and I hope it will help other autistic people on their journeys too.

Sensory and Emotionally Overwhelmed, and Today’s Speech

Today I gave a speech before about 100 women. I was nervous. I always am, even though I am used to giving speeches. I spoke about issues that are important to me; my personal mission of changing the way non-verbal autism is understood, how I want to be talked to (normally), how the community needs to be more accepting, and many other themes.
It was well received. It was the overwhelming aftermath I want to discuss. So many lovely, caring women rushed to me, hugging and kissing me. It was too much and I was overwhelmed. How can I explain it and not sound whiny?
My system is overly sensitive. Really, I am struggling all the time to be in control of myself. In emotional moments it is harder. Giving a speech, women who weep at my speech, teens who sob in my arms after my speech, so many questions people bombard me with in an instant… I wrote in the past about how I overflow. So, I did. I got aggressive in an instant, in front of my “admirers” (ha-ha). I grabbed my mom and pulled her hair.
I love my mom and I don’t have any desire to hurt her. I didn’t, but she was livid all the same. I need to get better self-control. My friend, Elaine Hall, suggested that my mom should whisk me out after future speeches before the crowd gets up. Yes! I am pretty sure I need that. It’s necessary if I’m going to continue doing speeches in person. I think seeing me in person helps people to believe my message.
If you have an autistic kid,  this may help you understand the overflow you see. I do my best, but I am not normal neurologically. I believe it will improve, but meanwhile I have decided that I’m outta there the moment the speech is done. If there are questions, please write to facebook or my blog.
The lovely women are doting and I am fleeing. I greatly appreciate their good wishes more than they can know, but I need to go.
Now I need to go for a jog to run off my steam. Til next time.
Ido

Me and My Dogs

My dogs are a lot of fun. I am really glad we have them. When I was a baby we got a dog, so I am used to dogs. My home is always wagging and scampering.
They bother me when they bark, but it’s bearable mostly. I still cover my ears because I hear too sensitively. It’s worth it because I love them. They are patient with my annoying stims.
I know too many autistic people who scream in fear at the sight of dogs. It sort of makes sense because autistic people have sensitive hearing. Dogs are full of surprises and they run and play in unpredictable ways. It’s for me an exercise in tolerance because I learned to love them in spite of their noise and their weird systems that make a sleeping dog jump out of its bed barking madly and running after some random sound it hears. This stresses some people, I’m sure, but I got used to it, times three. Maybe my dogs helped me in some ways to deal with a changeable world.

Emotional Overflow

The struggle for emotional control is always with me. I try to meet the world on its terms. I need to calm myself to do that. It’s not too bad if I feel OK inside. If I don’t, Oh boy. I find it is a train that rolls so swiftly that even if the engineer tries to stop it, the momentum keeps moving me onward. Once I stop I feel so embarrassed or sorry.

The triggers can be silly to others. Inside, they are serious.

I get nervous. It overflows. I get stressed. It overflows.
It overflows.
Oh man, do I hate that.
I behave the way people expect autistic people to act when I overflow, so they assume I’m not smart or something. Then I stop trying.

Do you see other autistic people do this too? It sounds silly, but it is common. I think it explains the tantrums some kids have. They tantrum from fear, anxiety or stress, but oh how quickly it becomes anger if people try to stop it with “hands down” or “no” or “all done” to a teenager.

The train is stopped by rules and understanding.

A Walk in the Woods

I love nature.
In nature I am teamed up with God, in a way.

I mean, I look around. I see beauty all around me, and I feel part of it. The illness is put aside because I see perfection in the really lovely sights.

Nature isn’t neat or orderly. The grass is waving this way or that. The branches are crooked and gray and gnarled. The path is lopsided from rivers of rain and erosion. The plants grow in random places. I see no pattern, unlike a landscaped lawn.

I fit in so well. I am so at home in the messy beauty of nature. I relate to it. I see the system is messy, but it works and it is WOW. Not to be sort of simplifying it, but I see my illness this way. It’s not pretty. It is messy. It has erosion and rivers of mud too. Ha ha.
But it is part of nature in the same way.

I am not a mistake, nor a sorry state of messy neurons. I accept my messy neurological system because it has given me a way of seeing life. I fit in with the path in the woods.