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I wrote a thing!

So yeah. As part of my English literature course, I had to write a creative writing piece. I decided to write it about what a meltdown is actually like. It’s probably 1000% triggering, and it’s definitely pretty crap. HOWEVER, it ticks all the boxes for a creative writing piece, and that’s all it really needs to do!

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I let my mind drift, casting it into the oceans of thought, trawling the depths for the elusive fish of memory. It’s a strange image, but then again this is a strange time. Sitting in a familiar space, staring at the wall, wondering when my time will come. I look up at the nice person at the counter. They smile to me when I walk in, and I get a chocolate from them when I leave. They’re solid, reliable. They never change; they just sit there, tappa-tapping away. It’s like a buzzing, the sound of the hive mind of the internet. Tappa-tappa-tap-tap. Incessant, never-ending buzzing.

Bees communicate through dance. Not many people know that, but they do. They twirl and dance and wiggle and wave, all the while buzzing and chirping. The reception-person does that too. They get up, they sit down, they wiggle around in their chair a little. They move their hands up in the air too - the lady I come to see here calls that “gesticulating”. I think it means frustration, but I’ve never been very good at other people. I wonder what the hive said that made them get so frustrated.

The lady is coming out of the other room now. She’s a nice lady, she gives me water and I can talk to her. Mummy gives me a hug, and says “Now, you go and talk to Dr. Buwitsche, and be a good boy. I’ll be here when you get back, OK honey?”. I look at her and nod, and give her a kiss. I don’t really know why she’s so worried. I see the nice doctor every two weeks, it’s on my timetable. I like my timetable, it keeps me anchored.

Now I’m walking into the room. She’s moved some things around since I was last here. It… It… It… Isn’t the same. Not the same. Not the same. Not the-

I’m on the floor, and the nice doctor is talking to me. She’s telling me… Something. I don’t know what, it’s all gone out of focus. I can hear colours again, and the nice doctor says that means I need to calm down. I take a deep breath, and I hold it for a little. I let it out. The ringing and whistling is stopping now. It feels a bit better.

"-and just keep breathing, that’s alright, very good. You’re doing really well, it’s OK. You’re safe here, OK?"

I lift my head up a little bit. Was it always this bright in here? I fumble for my bag, and it’s not there. I feel a tingling in my face, and I breathe faster. I need my bag, did someone touch it? Nobody is allowed to touch it! No, no…

I’m in the corner now. I don’t remember moving, but my face feels hot and wet. I think I was crying. I’m clutching my bag to my chest, pounding heart throbbing into it. 1… 2… 4… 8… 16… 32…

I’m counting out loud. The doctor is smiling, and she offers me a glass of water. I stop counting, and I look up at her. She looks like my mummy looks when I need quiet time. She looks sad, and happy, and worried, all at once. She looks loving. She cares about me. I like that feeling.

I take the glass, and  I purr as it touches my hands. It’s cool and nice, and it feels like when you touch a  cold metal bar on a really hot day. I remember looking at a painting once, and it had sheep and a shepherd on a horse in it. The sheep smelt the  water, and they stampeded past the man on his horse to reach it, which is silly. You can’t smell water, water doesn’t have a smell. I think I can smell the water now, because it smells like safety. This is the routine. This is what happens.

I walk out of the room, and I knock on the door again. The nice doctor lady opens the door, and I walk inside. I sit down in my chair, which is where it always is. I look up at the flowers in the jar, like I always do. The doctor sits in her chair, like she always does.

I notice something new.

The flowers in the jar… They haven’t dropped yet. They’ve been there for months, and they haven’t dropped. They’re plastic.

Plastic flowers in a room of unchanging sameness. A room as unchanging, as eternal, as neverending as the ocean. I let my mind drift, casting it into the oceans of thought, trawling the depths for the elusive fish of memory…

 

 

isomer asked:

"Feel free to contribute what your favorite activities are to celebrate Autism Acceptance Month," you said. My response: continuing to accept my two autistic children the way they are. Watching Wheel of Fortune with my oldest because it is one of his special interests. And not eating at Chili's.

Right on! All stellar activities. :)

- Lucas

Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

Does anyone else stay away from tags related to autism in April because of all the inspiration porn if you want to call it that?

I definitely am. Making myself mostly scarce from facebook as well, because that can be just as triggering.

- Lucas

April approaches us.

Now’s a good time to mention that Autism Acceptance Month has been made in stead of Autism “Awareness” Month. The former was created by Autistics, for Autistics. The latter, well… “awareness” can kiss my ass.

Also, feel free to contribute what your favorite activities are to celebrate Autism Acceptance Month. ^_^

- Lucas

Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

Can someone have social anxiety and Aspergers or Autism?

Absolutely! For loads of Autistic people, they go hand in hand. I’m Autistic and I have generalized anxiety disorder (as well as depression, technically seasonal… but the way that people make it sound less serious, which isn’t true).

- Lucas

Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

If people do not like calling April, autism awareness month what is it then? If they do not like the blue, what color should it be?

The Autistic Community has been taking back the month of April by calling it Autism Acceptance Month - where we discuss the importance of accepting Autistic people, since people are already aware of us.

We also have an alternative to blue, with Turn It Down Taupe.

Rainbow is also another alternative to blue, since a symbol that the Autistic Community uses is a rainbow infinity sign.

- Lucas

I’m not dead! From Samby

Hi. Been a while. I’ve had some crazy shit on my plate lately, including starting medical transition, the HSC starting, insane flair ups of my CFS and other crap. I’ll try to be active from now on, but frankly this is just a quick “I’m not actually end yet” message. Sorry for ignoring you peeps…

— Samby

Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

Is it a good idea to major in your special interest field? For example, if your special interest is history, should you major in history?

I would! It just means you get to learn more about something you love!

-Lindsay

Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

I am glad this Tumblr is active again. Lindsay, can you tell us more about emotional support animals? Do you need a doctors note to have one? Can pets have traits similar to autism or have it themselves?

1. Yes, you usually have to have a note from a doctor to have an ESA. Otherwise they’re just pets and have the same limiting rights as pets.

2. I remember reading a theory one time that said that we have similar mental wiring to animals. No idea how true that is, but it’s interesting and would explain why so many of us are better at understanding animals than people. As for animals being Autistic, I couldn’t really tell you that, but some could have similar traits. 

-Lindsay

Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

Hi so I'm just a teen who has a sister with Aspergers, and when she discovered this she could to see it in me to. Now I've always been known for ADHD but I feel like I have aspergers. But every "professional" I've told have shot me down or forced their opinion on me like they knew me more then I do. I've been trying to find my answer weather or not I have Aspergers but every person I tell has said I don't have it when they don't even test or get know me... What do I do?

First off, people who don’t know you have no idea whether you’re Autistic or not. From what you’ve said, you probably do. ADHD often goes hand-in-hand with Asperger’s (or the diagnosis’ do, anyway), and since your sister has it, there’s the genetic link right there. My recommendation would be to find a therapist who specializes in Autism and speak with them about it.

-Lindsay

Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

Hope you'll get the diagnosis! And remember, if he says you aren't autistic, he could be wrong. My doctor first came to that conclusion - but when the rest of the team that had been studying (I don't know if that's the right word) me had their final meet up about it, they ended up diagnosing me with Asperger's after all! I'd been really upset about it too, though I hadn't told anyone about it.

Definitely! I do have a female psychiatrist so that might help, considering that I’m dfab and not out yet. I will not give up until I have a proper diagnosis, since I will need it for the future to come to finally get the accommodations I need.

Thank you for the support <3

-Al

Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

Oh that was a good explanation, thanks. Why would someone get an ESA as opposed to a service animal? Do you have any good links about it?

Service dogs require years of intensive training. They’re also expensive, even if you owner train. If you don’t go through a program or charity, you have to pay for not only the dog’s upkeep (food, toys, vet bills, etc…), but their gear, and having to outsource training if you’re unable to do it yourself. Not to mention that the average SD gets about 6-8 working years before they’re retired. With an ESA, you have their whole lives. Plus, they’re not limited just to dogs and mini horses.

-Lindsay

Edit: Both of these links are pretty good at explaining the differences between the two, and why some people would go with an ESA over a SD.

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