Aspies For Freedom

Try taking more B vitamins, calcium, and magnesium. Autistic brains seem to need more of these nutrients and when I take my supplements, it does seem to kick me out of the depression.

I was disturbed earlier about the implication that if someone had a physical disability, wouldn't they want to be cured, as if somehow all physically disabled people are miserable. I have congenital hip dysplasia and for many years, I had to walk on a cane. I don't need a cane anymore, but I still regard those years when I was crippled as the best years of my life. Sure, the pain and debilitation sucked, but I was too busy having the time of my life to really care about it.

In fact, the worst part about being crippled was OTHER people's attitudes towards it. People EXPECT you to feel miserable and sorry for yourself and they get mighty pissed off when you are not. I was told by one pompous doctor that my condition was irreversable and I was going to end up in a wheelchair (I wonder what he would say about the fact that I now dance semi-professionally. Ha!). I looked at my hands and said, "well, Doc, at least my hands work!" He got SO pissed off at me because I "wasn't taking my situation seriously".

My favorite thing to do when I was crippled was to *** with other people's expectations of me. If I left my dorm with my cane and whistled a happy, jaunty tune, I ruined everyone else's day because they couldn't handle that I wasn't all miserable because my legs didn't work right. I caused a huge scandal at my grad school by posting pictures around the school of me in a bathing suit, suggesting that people should come to my recital because I was "the sexiest gimp on the planet". Apparently, "sexy gimp" was a tad too politically incorrect for Minnesota. Heh.

And then my favorite was when some blonde chick asked me in an elevator if I had a hard time getting a boyfriend. I had about eight boyfriends at the time (no shortage of geeky guys in college, heh) and had gotten three marriage proposals that day. I was like, "Will you be able to get off the elevator by yourself, or will you need assistance?"

I was pretty popular, at least among geeky boys, which was my preference. I shunned the popular boys because they scared me. Which oddly enough, made them want me even more. Everyone seemed to want me when I was crippled. And then when I got better, the pool dried up and I went eight years without a date. I think the cane made me more accessable, as if otherwise, I'd be too perfect to pursue. And the funny thing is, at the time, I had no idea how good-looking I was.

I've experienced intense discrimination from being crippled, one time even getting into a fist fight with some obnoxious old guy in France that had to be broken up by the police (once they stopped laughing). But I still wouldn't change a thing. The only time I truly wanted to throttle someone was when some idiot in a Minneapolis post office asked me, "What are you doing to overcome your disability?" First off, mister, NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. And second of all, the only reason why I have anything to overcome is because of YOUR *** attitudes. I was fine with myself as a crippled person, but no one was fine with me. Their loss, frankly. But for some reason, people feel that you have no right to exist unless you have two working legs.

From this, I can apply several lessons:

    There is so much in my life that I can't control. I may never be able to get a job. People may forever hate me because of my "bad personality". But the one thing I can control is my attitude. And I am sick to death of being afraid. I am sick to death of being afraid to leave my house because "everyone hates me and no one wants me to live". Well, so **** what? WHY can't I have the same "*** you and the horse you rode in on" attitude towards autism and people's reactions to it as I did with my physical disability? Granted, it's easier when the disability is physical because people can see what they're reacting to. But you know what? I'm really really tired of hiding and crying. IT STOPS NOW.

I am so beyond lucky. I may not have many friends, but the few I have are deep and true. I have a nice geeky boyfriend after many years, (and the possibility of a second one if I want one  :smile: ) I have good social and relationship skills. (Polyamory teaches you that in a jiffy, particularly if you insist on being honest with everyone.) And I'm a genius who makes the world's worst cheesecake. I may never have the career success I want, but why should I hide just because other people feel like I have no right to exist? *** THEM!!! No matter what happens, I'm going to retire to an old person's commune in Kentucky with my friend Maritza, so there! :razz:

I'm naming my film production company (funds! Where are you lovely funds?) Pink Elephant Films. It describes how I feel in group conversations. Group conversations have a certain rhythm, like a dance, but because I process language so much more slowly, I can't get it. Then when I try to jump in, I'm like a big pink elephant in a tutu lumbering around that everyone desperately tries to ignore. People ask me why I would then name my company that. Because a pink elephant is what I am and I can't change that. I may as well be proud of it. I want to be proud of ALL of me, the good, the bad, and the ugly. In the business cards a friend made for me, it shows a pink elephant in a yellow tutu joyously dancing. That's me, dammit. It also happens to be my initials, but that's just a coincidence, I swear.

This is also why I chose my signature. I have been fired so many times for "bad personality". "Ummm... what makes my personality so bad?" "I don't know. It's just BAD!!!" Well, if I can't change it, I may as well celebrate it. In a world where Omarosa can make a living as a reality show star, why in hell should I be ashamed of my so-called bad personality?

I don't have a blog. Much as I love my new attitude, I still can't out myself 100% and have to be careful who I out myself to because the discrimination can be so intense. I've had people start campaigns to have me fired when they found out about my autism, because most people equate "autistic" with "crazy".

So while I want to be proud of who I am, it has to be balanced with some prudent caution so I don't buy myself more trouble than necessary. It's one thing to be proud of being gay, but you don't need to go to Seymour, Indiana to flaunt it. (A friend of mine knew someone who came out as gay and then moved back to Seymour to be a gay activist. He ended up face down in the river.)

I also have had a really bad experience with an ex stalking me, and he did most of it online, monitoring my activity and making it impossible for me to get a job. This makes it really really dicey for me to get too personal online.

I've also noticed a real change to cyberculture that I really don't like. I've been online since '91. In the early days, it was a great way to make friends all over the world, and I had a lot of free crash space wherever I traveled because I was a minor underground celebrity. (No kidding. My brother's college floormates made him call me at gunpoint so they could talk to me.) Now, I don't mind having lost that celebrity, because it wasn't the most important thing in my life. Even in the mid-90s, a stranger you met online might help you out, like when I was trapped in my house in Minnesota in January with a bad case of mono. People I didn't know came to my house to give me cans of soup. Or for what I will be eternally grateful for: In '93, I lost a job and ended up with a case of agoraphobia so bad, I couldn't leave the house even though my pantry was empty. I hadn't eaten in three weeks when some guy I talked to online came to my house, made me take a bath and then took me out for a subway sandwich. That man saved my life.

This sort of thing would never happen now. Cyberculture, particularly blog culture, is full of nastiness and blowhards who subsititute their loud opinions instead of fact, and if you show any vulnerablity at all, you get attacked relentlessly. It seems that the cyber communities I knew have disbanded and all that are left are truly mean people. I don't have a blog because I don't want to leave myself open for the abuse that will inevitably follow. For some reason, RL abuse is easier to deal with. I don't know why that is. Occasionally, I get so phobic, I don't touch my email for weeks. Which is bad.

I think we ought to have a parade. Nerd Pride Parade. March of the Nerds. Make Way for Nerdlings! :grin: I crack myself up.

And I think I might be willing to out myself for a documentary/reality show. At least to show that autistic people aren't all pathetic loners, and that maybe some of us lead better lives than NTs. I mean, things are not easy for me, and I don't think most people would have the stomach for what I go through sometimes, but I think I've led a much more interesting life and fully lived life than most NTs. But I would want some editorial control, not so much to keep people from seeing the ugly side (I have no shame anyway) but so the punchlines can come out. So much happens to me that really cracks me up, but other people can't ever seem to get the joke. People ask me why I have a much more interesting life than other people, and what is my secret. I reply, "Easy! Just don't have the common sense God gave a goat." Because of that, I've learned lessons most people don't learn, such as: Never get involved in theatrical projects with ex-drug dealers from Beirut.

I have begun to find that my crazy resume is actually starting to be an advantage in job interviews because it makes me seem artistic and interesting. My last interview became all about Weird Jobs I Have Had and I think the interviewer really liked me as a result. It also helps that I'm seeking work in legal proofreading which is the day job of choice for artists and quirky people, so I didn't seem that off-the-wall to him. The weirdest job I have had so far was selling frozen gourmet cuts of meat door to door. In Minnesota. In January. I lasted one day.

I highly recommend legal proofreading to those who are looking for work. I think it suits the autistic temperament perfectly because of our ability to be detail-oriented and hyper-focused. There is always work and you don't have to be super-social. (At work today, my co-workers cracked me up when they came back from a retirement party talking loudly and then one said, "Shh!!! They're proofing!") If you are good at your work and avoid being a total ***, there will be plenty of work and when you are talking about law firms, there is ALWAYS work. I love proofing because it doesn't even seem like work to me. It's so close to stimming that I find it relaxing.

I seemed to have rambled completely off the subject. I'll stop now.

Actually, Bonnie, an alias does NOT make you safe. Women have lost custody of their children because of what they posted in blogs. People quote these posts out of context without even bothering to verify that it was indeed the said woman who posted it. As I said, cyberculture has gotten extremely vicious and I have no doubt that there are people out there who would take my words and make my life a living hell.

My ex-boyfriend for a start. He's been making my online life a misery for the past two years. Why hand him more weapons. Using a different alias would only slow him down, not deter him.

For the last 2 or 3 years or so, we have been told at my workplace that our e-mail use will be monitored and there could be disciplinary action taken if too much time spent on e-mail at work and/or offensive items sent.

I was told off a few times for "excessive use of e-mail" at work but at the time I didn't have a diagnosis and couldn't explain that it was because I felt a lot more comfortable talking to people over the computer than face to face or on the telephone.

I know there is a big problem with people sending obscene e-mails but I think checking every little message we send at work is taking it a bit too far.