Friday, December 20, 2013

One of the worst things about Aspergers is the transparency of the individual in the eyes of others. People often mistake the pure direct perspective as low self esteem, being a loser and not opting for being positive. When realistically allot of people with ASD prefer not to bypass the truth. I find unrecognised ASD appears to others like a person has the mind of a child. Both men and women are in the same boat with ASD, women get treated like dumb sex objects and men get completely and utterly ignored.

-Luke Watt

Monday, December 9, 2013

He Brings It On To Himself


He Brings It On To Himself

“And in this corner
weighing in at
4lbs, 3 ounces”

I was a freak from the day I was born
and I wasn’t even a primi
just simply ½ 
the size of tinyYup, this is where my status as an Outsider
begins, but of course
it never truly ends
A lot of people talk of a pressure to conform
to fit in –VS- a need to go their own way
like that perpetual Black Sheep
always “out of step with the world”
but for me it was never that easy
because I never had the choice or option  to fit in
bell hooks said once upon a time that
”Being oppressed means the absence of choices”
well for me
fitting in was never a choice
So in one corner
there’s me
not even aware that I had been born into a boxing ring
and in the other corner
is societies social status quos
the bullies
and the bastards that laughed along
I was so small
in a world built for 
bigthey couldn’t even find a hospital ID bracelet for me [ii]
So how are they gonna find 10ounce gloves in my size?
never mind protective headgear…
Yup, I was way outta my weight class right from the beginning
so as you can imagine I took a lotta shots
and I spent a lot of time running
DING!               DING!                  ROUND ONE BEGINS!!!”and if kindergarten was to be any indication
I was in for a nightmare lifetime of humiliation

I had only one friend, a kid named Terry
who lived next door
and at school he wouldn’t talk to me
or play with me
cause if he did, he also got picked on more
I have only ever met one other kid that was failed from kindergarten
And he broke another kids jaw
AT LEAST HE DID SOMETHING!
The next year was even worse
I spent the mornings in grade one and the afternoons in kindergarten…
Needless to say
by year 3 of my formal education, I was still in grade one
just in a new school… in a new town…
Ah! Small town Alberta!
Such an accepting place
where things move at a...progressive, pace!
Not only was I now the smallest kid in the grade
shorter than all the other boys, and girls
but now I was also the oldest by a year
and to top it off I was poorer than anyone else from around there
cause I was now the child of a single mother
Of course there were not things I understood until years later
instead I tried things like
not wearing my glasses
Bifocals
so I would not get called 4 eyes, or geek, or nerd
but instead of ending the hurt
they just changed the pejoratives to
fag
or queer
or other such words
So what do you do when you are backed into a corner
and treated like a foreigner?
you get tough!
or at least you try!!!
which is pretty hard to do when you are half sized
So I began lifting weights
every day 
in an attempt to change what seemed like fate
and I started listening to heavy metal
and eventually punk
and started wearing all black
except my hair
which was dyed a different color every few weeks
and spiked up with Knox and other junk
In doing so I began to take back a degree of control
cause no I was the one rejecting, not rejected
but who’s keeping toll?
“He brings it on to himself”
the principal told my mother
making it all my fault
in those 6 words he justified all the years of pain
and hurt and abuse I felt
removing 
any responsibility from the school
or the teacher
or himself 
Around that time 2 kids in the USA picked up guns
and they took AIM at those that they deemed responsible for their pain
and I thought
“Shit! It’s finally happening!
Maybe they will finally learn
that you can’t just keep doing this to people
eventually they will 
fight back
and it will be 
YOU that get’s hurt”and I realized for the first time
that I was not alone
but they didn’t learn… they didn’t learn a thing
instead they blamed the victim
And I was told that I couldn’t wear chains to school anymore
and I had to leave my trench coat at home
rules made just for me!
to keep 
everyone else safe
safe to continue to pick on me
with impunity
I talked with 
other kids from other towns
who were always…
other
they too had experienced going from the target
to the terrorist threat
meanwhile all around soccer moms
of bully boys formed parent groups
to discuss
“how to stop bullying in highschools”
never once realizing it we their kids
who were calling us tools
cause it was their kids
who defined who/what was cool
or uncool
cause it was their system
and their rules
and it’s kinda like Audre Lorde said
you know
about the Masters Tools
about how you can’t use them to dismantle the masters house
cause if you could
they simply wouldn’t give you access to the tool box.
So at some point I came to a realization
that would change the rest of my life
I decided it wasn’t enough for me to not get bullied
bullying had to stop


By Comrade Black

                                                                                        profanexistence.com/tag/comrade-black/

Pray For Freedom



So hard to keep up
so much to do
so many to answer
so staminas few
so trying to fight it
no financial, to back endeavors
so little to work with
so many barriers...

so riddled with pain
so shivering in the rain
so wanting to have my body
the way it was, again
so I fight back, in vain...

so no-basic-needs, without a fight
so over my head sometimes
so need to make sure my kids are ok
schools' being hard on my younger son
for his ADD
which isn't designated
and he needs an EA...

another fight
another spree
'cause I don't want him to hurt like me...
and I wouldn't have to fight
if my talents would just be recognized
into a passionate career so free…
financially free
body-better free
a real life for my family…

when I had my physical health, it was all so buried
through abuse and neglect
and now I know the real me!
but my body traps, what the truth had freed
and over it, I brood and I bleed…
‘cause I’m here
and I be
and I've something to say!
Something to show you
I'm on my way!
But…

I got burnt out from a performance;
being a girl, who wasn’t me
being dumbed down, repressed, dehumanized
years on end
day by day
flee by flee

Then I numbed my tears with poison
and my strength began to sway
'til I fell to the ground
and the truth came too late

Now, my body’s trying to stop me
my body’s trying to take my life away
they call it fibromyalgia
and some awoken bad genes
through shock and trauma
most of which I can't repeat..

so yeah, my heart bleeds
it just bleeds and bleeds
and I’m on my knees
asking God for mercy
grant me mercy
breathe into me
bring me back, to Full Life…
but how..
when there's so few spoons
so much to distribute
it's barely possible right now...

I still hang onto my belief
I can't relinquish my dream
but so tired of these people
who don't get what autism means
nor can they hear a zebra crying
so tired of wasting energy, trying
reaching up from the bottom, half-dying...

so tired of trying to find the words
for patterns all before me
that I now so clearly see
but can't share, separate of my grief
and my script all too often repeats...
and I want to increase my knowledge
to find out what I missed in a college
that was never to be...

No, not special-interest-to-survive
Information, yes! to learn and thrive!
history, physics, biology
all kinds!
but where's the time?
‘cause you know what?
I dropped out in grade nine!
Oh don’t you know my pain?
when they couldn't see me pine
I left it all behind
in vain
and now I am for real; behind
as is the hole in my heart
which is covered with false pride...

I want a fascination cleanse
not OCD-survival toxic
I want to heal the pain
That I keep inside
as much as I can deny
‘cause there wouldn’t be enough tears
for the cry...

These stupid people in power
who don’t get it, or do they?
kept me gasping for air all the time
with a purse full of dimes
in a closet, with wine
and what was my crime?
being broken from the prime..

they threw me up in the sky
and down to the ocean
from knee high
like the Trunchbull
to Matilda
and because of it
I had to play cards
and I'm swimming so hard
and I hope I don't fatigue
enough to lapse in the lore
in which I need, to get out
to reach the sanctuaried shore

So little energy
never finding enough
so hooked on caffeine
to keep up
so sleep screwed
so rough

so hard on my body
so wanting to relax
but how can I
amidst the lobby
where I hear the clock tick so loudly
because I know just how good
it could all be
If I had the chance
TO JUST BE
before weakness
overtakes my body
or so it seems
to be on the horizon
'less I do something...

So tired of interruptions
torn between everything
feeling like an interruption
until my “mission” feels complete
I cannot have my time wasted
with cream
I need to get to my dream
in which means; redeem!
feel like I’ve only got time
to build a machine

So tired of trying to grasp executive functioning
amidst a musty haze
so, where's my lighthouse?
where's out of this cave?
and where’s my Annie Sullivan?
to hold me down, as I rage
to get to my pain
and make me engage
and where’s my Mary Poppins?
to lovingly help me behave
and where’s my Miss Honey?
for what I unspeakably crave...
and where’s my Tuxedo Mask?
let's not even go there..

Oh, sometimes, I see them
appear in the air
but it's just a dream
and how can I find them
I've searched far and wide
but I'm starting to realize
the only place they may be
if at all
is within me...

I'm so overwhelmed ...
and, really, I'm sorry..
I thought wallowing together was the key
but that won't bring the right glory
no
that won’t set us free...
so, I don't mean to forsake
I’m just figuring out
how to use my rake
for all the fallen leaves
must not flow with the breeze
they must be contained
and them, not I
must be burned at the stake
so I must awake...

but I want to do it all NOW
unheeding
oh so stubbornly
I feel like, in a way
I'm allowed to have my cake
if in a certain way, I bake
So I keep turning this rubix cube
‘cause I don’t want to give up
though neither run like a chicken
with it’s head cut off..

easier said than done
to so gracefully run
not like one whose being chased
but how the AC ventilates
do I even have the capacity it takes?
I have autism…
I'll it again
Do you believe it?
yeah...
here we go again...

But I’d come to think
that it was my friend
this mind of mine...
and so it can be
but it’s a double edged sword
when my brain is bored
with everything but the Silver Sword

Specific and chiseled
am I fighting it still?
I just don’t understand it
as much as I thought
I'd had my fill
of thinking I could've known it all
not alongside a fibromyalgia fall
and now, I crawl...

God omighty
This is a feat
crawling up a mountain
so steep
being a flower: to steep
to die, or make tea
I am coming to thee...

Oh, I didn’t know, until it was felt
almost too late
same with my health too...
so walk in my shoes
don’t judge me by my little rouse
that I can’t help but perpetually do
and it’s not to fool
it’s just me, all the way through

I’m top notch about it all
‘til my body’s copping out
to the point where it could reveal
which to one, might seem surreal
I suppose
so I'm on my toes
Sensing the expectation
or otherwise damnation
and you’ll never see me then
whence I disappear..
with autism, FM, and my cries
and a gene that makes my tissues
like a butterfly

yet a butterfly
with a combat shield
an adorned one at that
with what will then yield
the skill of adorning
so visually distracting
people just can’t seem to see
how limited and fragile
I truly be

So why do i do it?
why do I hide
behind
to feel good, to stay dry eyed
and in control, whence it matters
ittle do they know...
I'm becoming the Mad Hatter
inside

even my behavior is adorned
with the butterfly
perched on a dictionary
memorized
unable to bare fragility in flight
impossible to see how unwell I feel and be
so it sounds like whining
when I’m honest in words
about the degree...

I had to survive a dystopian hell
devoid of trustworthy help
I got kicked, if I yelped
so I ran to the alley
if I had to cry freely
once upon a time...

now I can’t help but be this way
and why should I not have pride?
why should I give up, and cease, and lie
down on a bed that says "sick" on the drapes
confined to a sanitoria
no way
not in my caste
especially
what a life-waste...


So give up my ruthless drive
to stay what I call alive
because people won’t believe me otherwise?
oh please!
can’t people see past the trees?
‘less I literally collapse by surprise
I cannot be sick, or exhausted
before others’ eyes…
nor of permanent demise
and I can't speak, in acute state
so I hide
but does that mean I lie?

So good at fooling
I accidentally fool myself
to a detrimental degree
but what part can't be helped
in order to make the quota
I march on with iota
and then turn it into beans..
and so few people GET IT
as the barriers upon barriers build
whence interruptions again
enact in the breeze, with a chill...

whatever the beast is
I need to tame it for real
but how can one heal
from the muscle that wears
from the rips and tears
by thrashing rapids in the river
where I need to swim hither
to finally reach the shore

and I care so much
though direct connection, I've become poor 
when I can't please, respond, and save
the way I wanted to
anymore
my heart feels so sore
'less I explain
it's not personal
and about my primary purpose
because it’s love at the core
and not fear at the core
or we attract it more…

As it is; the sick status quo
but I can’t be the one
to sing with one “Oh Mr. Sun”
for change to be won
we must sing in many numbers
therefore
can’t be one on one
it's impossible, with everyone
so it drains me, 'til day is done..

and then I shut down
and I am depleted
with no energy left
to have mission completed
and hence, feel defeated

I have to get up
and do something differently
and set a boundary
out of love
out of need..

and part of this is my own doing
but part of this is not my fault
though the formers’ come by honestly
from my circumstantial disability

oh, how can I fully see
how to separate it all
ironic how I need to
and if not I fall
and though it’s so hard
with the pictures in shards
it is so relieving
if I find the bard...
and paint what I see; on cards
to organize the shards
but, damn, it's so hard!


So complex how it works
with a million quirks
amongst a hundred greats
and what’s it gonna take?
to finish my rake..
and how can I help
if I can't help myself first
'cause I can't quench my thirst
by jumping in the lake

I can't let myself down
into a sea of martyrdom
I have to find a better way
I gotta pray for freedom...

Rose Guedes, Dec 10, 2013
www.agirloutsidethebox.com

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

It's You're Right To Be, Feel and Speak. -by Faye O'Neill


``On the bus I took home this morning, a girl who presented differently got on the bus. The way she dressed was unique and quirky, well groomed. She was quiet, or shy, or withdrawn; whatever you want to label it as, looking down as to avoid eye contact with people she didn't know.

Now on the going cross town, the second bus I took today there was a little girl with her mom, who loved her very much. The first thing I heard was "Mommy look there he is again!'' She was referring to a sea otter in the Gorge Basin/Inlet. This wasn't what caught my attention, but what followed next did. The little girl was grumpy, her mom asked ''Why are you grumpy? Cause we don't have your ice cream cone yet? We'll get it soon! I love you soo much!'' In the most supportive loving and patient voice I have ever heard. ''The green sticker is not straight!''. I didn't notice if the mom said anything after this, But it was peculiar to me that the same some what similar feeling came to me. Two different people and two different buses.

So the third bus I took there I was wasn't long after the second incident. maybe 15 minutes. I was waiting behind some teenage girls who were getting off at the same stop as me. Behind me was a woman, her dress style was again unique, quirky but not ratty. Exactly like how I dress. When the bus came to a stop she asked me very politely '' excuse me''. I thought this odd but I turned back to her and politely responded '' I'm just waiting for them to get off first''. Then, we got off the bus and I'm texting my brother about this, since I found it odd. She asked me again politely what time is it. I told her the time. She then asked me is the bus normally late or early, again I replied ''I dunno, sorry.''. I thought it odd she herself didn't have a watch; but again I can't wear watches either, they just stop working. I then heard her ask another lady what time it was. I was beginning to ask myself, is this a coping mechanism to ensure that she is where she is supposed to be at a very specific time?

Then I guess it dawned on me. 'Wow. how many people have autism? LFAUS? Lots! HFAUS? Lots! Auspergers? Lots! PDDNOS, like me? Lots! How many of them are diagnosed? Lots, but many more not.' So, I came to the conclusion that hey, maybe they are ALL trying to learn how to function in a world, like me, that isn't built well for us.

Now I'm not saying EVERYONE I encounter is autistic, but I have become more aware of the world around me, and I'm NOT the only different one here. We are all unique and we all face daily challenges that take their toll.

My one last word of advice is, and this is for all who care too read to the very end; there are people out there who will pretend to be your friend. There are negative people and negative places. Sometimes it takes a few beat downs, unfortunately, to learn who is worth having around and who is not. If you find yourself in situations with people who make you feel like you have done something wrong, but won't say what. If you're unsure of whether you have or have not in fact done something wrong, go with what your energies tell you. It's probably not your fault, it's theirs. Their two face behaviors, their whispers, their unspoken, but obvious energies say what a million words cannot...and don't be afraid to speak your mind. Even if you can't do it in person because you have no f****s left to give, say it somewhere; on It`s Not Ok, on facebook, on youtube, your own personal blog, or on a piece of paper. And you know what, those of you who love you will support you, and those who don`t will pretty much f**** right off.
Be brave and strong, because not everyone you meet will like you though they pretend, not everyone you meet will like what you have to say, but for f**** sakes it's your right to say it. Just be safe when you say it. You don`t need to be put in harms' way.  If you don`t say it somewhere you're in for a world of of guilt, self hating, undue stress, mental over loads, and complete shut downs.

After all my negative drama, I got the support I needed . I have a world full of people who care, friends, a brother, a roomy and my besty! People I never see anymore. Whether you know them in person or not. Whether you have never even said hi to them on face book. If you post something on a girl outside the box face book group, I will read.  Post something on It's Not Ok. I will read.  If you make a youtube video and put a link on the face book group as well, I will watch it! I want to be a support for someone who needs it.  Even if it`s only me sending out my prayers of healing. One person I do feel safe mentioning by name here is Rose. Thank you!  Thanks to all of you who read this. I think many people need to hear these words."
-Faye O'Neill