tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79406539657080551522024-02-18T17:43:27.000-08:00Divergent Voices (community blog)Community blog since 2013. For the marginalized who wish for change and increased awareness; autistic, 'ADD' etc, complex chronic illness, trauma/bullying/mental health/addiction, supporters too. Share experiences i.e. self discovery, getting through, life lessons, info for awareness, discrimination, human rights, how you've been affected, how/what you'd like to see change. Anonymity if requested. Send *titled* pieces to bohemian.miss@gmail.com Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-67789695438362873912020-09-29T19:51:00.004-07:002020-09-29T19:51:50.652-07:00A particular kind of bullying<div><span style="background-color: #3a3b3c;"><span style="color: white; font-family: arial;">Scott Roebuck on the nature of how non autistic typical folk - especially in authority - belittle and bully autistic adults and others who may have challenges and disabilities but are very smart;</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: #3a3b3c;"><span style="color: white; font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: #3a3b3c;"><span style="color: white; font-family: arial;">"The issue is that they want you to not have any positive attributes; they need you to be something to be looked down upon and/or pitied. They can't accept that you simultaneously face all these issues/challanges and still end up being better than them at something. In their minds it demeans their accomplishments (or lack there of) in life. Rather than applaud your success despite the challanges; they instead try to undermine it. Rationalizing that you are either lying about the success; or did accomplish something - but lying about the challanges faced; or they have to accept both, but just write you off as some sort of freak which "doesn't count". I have seen this over and over again. Don't let their attempts to save their own fragile egos play negatively on yours."</span></span></div><div><br /></div>Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-31905982629905617122016-10-06T18:19:00.000-07:002020-02-24T17:44:28.678-08:00Harmful "help" - remedial training is needed. <div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
For a female aspie friend who just came out to a "helping" organization ie. trying to get support for a sexual assault, and instead she was misconstrued somehow, thus discriminated against, and further hurt. (I know all too well what this is like) I'm pissed off:</div>
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"Help" places often discriminate against and mistreat aspies, especially aspie women (because of their denial problems re: aspergers' presence in women, and by the way I'm going to say asp<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">ergers though I know it's not in the DSM anymore because I feel it describes things better, because we're referring to insidious autism with verbosity - the presence of such a thing is often denied in women especially - but ironically and hypocritically, they discriminate against the very thing they're denying!)</span></div>
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These "helping" programs, places and figures tend to do the very opposite of help, they further harm and hurt. Sometimes I call it "unhelpful help" and sometimes it's flat out "harmful help." It's disgusting, and going to them about a serious matter only to get wing-slashed (alluding to Malificent) is a prime and severe example of autistic person abuse.</div>
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These outfits, and all social systems for that matter, badly need remedial training ie. how to handle a verbal autistic adult who seems "normal" to them but will have differences and disabilities with expression and communication, and therefore will present with their dilemmas in a divergent manner.</div>
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They need to understand that divergent presentation and affect in reaction to a serious problem does NOT equal illegitimacy of the problem, and in fact, the autistic adult is often *more* vulnerable if anything.</div>
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Therefore, undermining the autistic person and their problem parallels structural violence via neglect and/or abuse. Whether they intend for it or not - and they need to see that this is the result, and how that must feel to an autistic person. It is *so* traumatizing. Being traumatized on top of being traumatized, it's horrendous. It's like flicking acid on a wound. Scar tissue gets really deep and damaging that way you know.</div>
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They need an educational program and all need to mandatorily go through with it. Remedial training. It'll be a great day when that happens. #autistic #aspergers #women #neurodivergent #disability #sexualassault #ethics #humanrights #help #selfhelp #advocacy </div>
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Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-22898253057876539042016-06-14T22:35:00.001-07:002016-06-14T22:40:44.989-07:00Observe what happens to a lot of rainbow zebras<div class="comment-entry" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 26px; position: relative;">
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I'm in the same places with a similar diagnostic spread. Honestly at this point I've basically given up on ever getting treatment. I've been stuck in a continuous cycle of having to try to prove over and over that I am sick. It doesn't matter that I have evidence and tests. I've just accepted that my life is over. I'm 27 this year, I've been severely ill since I was 20. The harder I fight the more they treat me like I'm just crazy. i'm diagnosed with somatoform now despite the several positive test results, because I'm distressed over the fact it's been 6 years and I'm getting less treatment then I was in the beginning despite getting sicker. So I'm now blacklisted from medical help too, because the treatment for somatoform is refusing you medical care.
Honestly I don't care anymore. I was pretty mentally healthy but now I just want to die. Like that is now my life goal. Die. I can't kill myself because if I fuck it up they can lock me in the hospital but they have taken someone who was doing pretty ok in all aspects of life, and made me a complete mess. Then blamed me for having severe PTSD from 6 years of gaslighting and being blamed for not being able to overcome POTS and EDS with diet and exercise.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif;">+kaorugirl180 I'm so very sorry. Your story absolutely disgusts, enrages, and saddens me for you. I know exactly how you feel, as you know, it happened to me. But you are articulate and you did word it very well..probs exactly why they had to blacklist you, I suppose. I caught them with their pants down trying to do this to me, and I have had some success, maybe because I did put it "out there" in social media a bit. Though this can be a double edged sword, it's a power we can excercise when all else fails. Though I'm very sick myself, I am slowly getting somewhere (hopefully on time) and, I want to help you, and other people for in which this abuse happen to (and that's a lot) in the ways I am able... do you have an official EDS diagnosis, and POTS diagnosis. If so, you have more power than you think. (even if you don't, it's not hopeless, you can still get a dx) .. The grassroots activism re EDS and similar is getting stronger. We who are "getting somewhere" are coming to the aid of our fellows who are experiencing the brunt of medical abuse. There are organizations you can connect to, who can help you connect with people in your area that can help advocate. I will write you a staunch letter to do my part, if you like. This has got to stop. We will survive and we will put this to a stop so others never have to endure such horribly abusive and callous antics.</span></div>
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Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-58309618565015779722016-04-07T11:39:00.001-07:002016-04-07T11:39:27.953-07:00Meditation for aspies/auties - A helpful and practical approach , by Leo Nikol <h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: #2f37da; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Meditation For Aspies</span></h3>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Room<br /><br />My room is where I love to get some meditation done. For an Aspie there are many methods and ways to bring about the calming of the nervous system, the relinquishment of unwholesome thoughts, dispulsion of anxiety, or even cultivation of mental discipline. But first and foremost, my "set and setting" is my room: "The Room."<br /><br />I love the claustrophilic coziness of my room. My room gives me a refuge from the cacophony of the city; my room brings me comfort and safety the likes of which I could not possibly find anywhere else in this world.<br /><br />For Aspies our room is our home. Leaving it means traveling to a foreign country. As I sit in the quietness of the insulation, I still gaze out my window and appreciate the golden sun set. The beams flow into my entire domicile, brightening all the walls and objects in lucid brilliance. Just enjoying that moment is enough.<br /><br /> The Meditations<br /><br />Don't let images of an exotic oriental lotus posture be conjectured in your minds. I'm no wishy-washy, otherworldly, and outlandishly spiritualistic New Age guru, but I love a nice deep contemplation in the aloneness in my room. All that common talk of "mindfulness" and "staying in the moment" are all and good - and I certainly concur with those - however, for Aspies, remaining in the moment-by-moment awareness of our minds and bodies, however calming and wholesome, is simply not enough. Following the breaths in the process of inhalation and exhalation, or counting them may be a formidable feat of mental discipline but it has its own limitations. Let me explain.<br /><br />For Aspies, we can't just shut off our thoughts and stay focused "in the moment." We cannot just curb our minds from forming thoughts, concepts and ideas as is the goal of meditation - whether it's called "mindfulness" or "zen;" We cannot just relinquish our self-stimulatory repetitive behaviours (i.e. "stimming") because these are the very tendencies and proclivities of our autistic brains. Shutting off our so-called running thoughts would be to shut off the vital part of ourselves; quieting our "discriminating intellect" is stifling to us; getting rid of our obsessiveness is definitely not the autistic way; stilling our stims takes away our self-soothing mechanisms which are both natural and necessary to us; likewise, remaining in the "here and now" rather than "then and there" is very limiting to us - in fact, many times the Aspie mind needs to dwell in both dimensions, sometimes even simultaneously: because hey, this is autism.<br /><br />So, the above form of meditation, however beneficial in certain ways, can be something not-very-wholesome to us, since creative thinking and endless thought processing is the very heart of who we are: the autistic mind inclines towards ideations, mental conceptions and abstractions, analysis, mentation, creativity, and forming notions through the intellect. These are the very life-blood of the autistic mentality. we cannot afford to dispense with those essential components of ourselves.<br /><br />This sort of meditation is good for neurotypicals whose minds are diffused all over the place, and who lack a focused mind. Do we really need that form of meditation then? I mean if there is one great strength we Aspies have is our single-pointed mind. Our mind obsesses and fixates insatiably, we don't need any special effort to get our minds concentrated in one thing, for we already excel in that very thing. If the goal of meditation is to bring the mind into "single-pointed mindedness" as the Dalai Lama preaches, then we don't need it because we already have that quality.<br /><br />Therefore, living and placing our minds outside of our autistic boundaries is disrespectful to ourselves and it will only take us to the brink of a severe autistic burnout or even a meltdown.<br /><br />Ahh, so what forms of meditations can be of benefit to us? Well, like I said, the above meditation can be good for us, taken in moderate and appropriate measure. I, for instance, like to do some mindful meditation - or a form of zazen - through following my breath before I go to sleep sometimes - though I like to do this lying down in my bed rather than sit in the cliched lotus posture we see in popular culture.<br /><br />I find chanting or mantras to be more up our alley since they can be used as excellent stimming tools - and they are to an autistic. I used to chant repetitive phrases to calm myself down when I was a kid and sometimes even in my adulthood. So anything vocal or repetitive is good.<br /><br />I also heard of monks and nuns and even charismatic Pentecostal Christians rocking back and forth to induce calm and even a form of a trance. That sure works for us since rocking back and forth is instinctive to us.<br /><br />Concentrating all our energies on single thought, image, or idea that we're obsessed with or are especially interested in (e.g. our special interest topic) can also be construed as a form of meditation. Visualization can also accomplish that end for those who are able to mentally visualize vividly and naturally.<br /><br />Pacing around the house or some enclosure where we can make rounds and circumambulations are also good form of meditation for autistics - something else that both naturally stems from autistic brain and also that is practiced by meditators in many different traditions (cf. "walking meditation" in Buddhism, Hinduism, Jainism, and Christian monasticism).<br /><br />What I especially like is what's called "body scan" where I lay still in bed, relaxing every muscle in my body through concentrated effort while keeping my mind alert and awake - sometimes this could induce what's called an "out-of-body-experience" or as I like to call it astral projection. Lucid dreaming is also another form of this type of meditation.<br /><br />I could certainly go on for hours. When dealing with meditation it is important for Aspies to keep the above information in mind. You do not want to do anything that would go against your basic neurology. Respect your habits and tendencies, know that there is nothing you can do to thwart your autistic brain. We must rather harness it, strengthen it, and expand on it. By being more of ourselves is better than running away from it or masking it. Remember, stimming itself is a form of meditation so consider yourselves master meditators already!</span><div style="clear: both;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">- Leo Nikol </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 1.6;">You can read more of Leo's blogs here: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; line-height: 38.4px;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://citizen-0.blogspot.ca/">http://citizen-0.blogspot.ca/</a></span></span></div>
Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-32536824602494307172016-03-09T15:38:00.001-08:002016-03-09T15:40:42.884-08:00The Other - by Heather M <div style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Now imagine this creature, somehow trapped inside a human body all its life.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>As a baby, things seem fairly average, but then life starts to get tricky. Especially when school begins...</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Things that come easily to other children, don't come easily to this creature. She's no good at PE, because the body she was meant to have had a lot more legs, or a different way of balancing. Writing and crafts are challenging because her hands should have been tentacles, or claws. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>She doesn't always understand the other children, and they don't seem to like her very much. This is not the language she was meant to speak.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>But this little creature is intelligent and motivated. She works very hard. She feels misunderstood, and wants to communicate, so she becomes obsessed with words and language, and spends a lot of time reading. She develops an impressive vocabulary, but the other children still don't seem to like or understand her. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Her recesses and lunch breaks are spent alone, reading, or watching the other children play.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>She watches the popular children, and notices that the clothes she likes to wear are different from what they are wearing. That must be it! She tries to pick out clothes that the other children will like, but she never seems to get it right.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>She notices that the popular students are good at sports, so she tries to learn all kinds of sports. Sometimes she practices for hours on end. She has improved for sure. She can catch a ball (something she could never do before). But being able to catch a ball (which was a huge accomplishment with her would-be tentacles) doesn't make her popular. In fact she is still the least talented kid in her PE class.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>She feels ill often, especially at school. Sometimes she can gain some strength back by lying down in the nurses office, her favourite place in the whole school. The nurses office is always quiet. All of the surfaces in the room are cool and clean, and it is usually dark. Heather enjoys lying back on the vinyl cot, and counting the ceiling tiles over and over again. The result is always the same, and this comforts her. She lies still and silent, actively listening for the occasional echoing footsteps of a passerby heading to the washrooms.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The washrooms are quiet too. Not nearly as nice as the nurses office, but they have to suffice when the teachers stop allowing Heather to visit her sacred space. They tell her that an illness that occurs at the same time every day, is no illness at all. Especially if it is time for PE.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>To escape, she spends a lot of time in a world of her own imagining. A world where she can do anything and be anyone she wants to.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">She develops an interest in acting, and she gets pretty good at it. It seems to help her act more like the other kids do. Heather is determined to make friends;</span> she wants so badly to play with the other children, instead of watching them from afar. She practices using the kind of words they use. She tries to be like them in every way. It seems to help. <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">She makes one or two close friends. They are not popular kids, they are outcasts like her, but that's ok...</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Heather learns that it helps to be agreeable. If someone says they don't like peas, she says she doesn't either. If they say they like the colour purple, she says she likes it too.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>There's a girl in Heathers class who seems to dislike a lot things and a lot of people. Her name is Christa. She has beautiful thick hair the colour of caramel and freckles on her nose. She always says what she's thinking, and she has five or six close friends. Heather wants to be her.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Christa plays tricks on Heather, and calls her mean names sometimes, but that's ok, because they are friends, and she says she's only joking. Heather tries her best to be agreeable. After all, she is lucky to have a friend like Christa.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Over the years friends come and go, some are true friends who love Heather for who she is (or appears to be) and some are "cool Christas", the ones she's dying to impress.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>But having friends doesn't feel as great as she expected it to. She's become so good at acting, that even her true friends don't really know her. They don't know she's a pretender, a fraud, an outsider. Whether or not people love her is irrelevant because of her deep dark secret. She is an "other". </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>In school, Heather struggles to do what's expected of her, and then all but gives up. <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Deep down, she knows she is bad and wrong.</span> She feigns apathy, pretending she doesn't care about sports or school or being popular. She refuses to participate in gym class because she's terrified of being humiliated, but she doesn't tell the gym teacher that. Flat out refusal to participate is all the explanation he gets. She stops doing her homework, except for English homework, since her best is never good enough anyways.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Eventually, the feigned apathy becomes real. Nothing brings her joy anymore, not reading, or writing, or music. One evening her parents order takeout from her favourite restaurant. Fettuccine Alfredo. Her favourite dish. She looks down at her plate, realizes it brings her no joy, and begins to cry.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The floodgates are opened. For the next week or so she spends more time crying than not. She cries in the shower, on the bus to school, in the classrooms. Some days she doesn't go to any classes because the other students tease her for crying all the time. She cries herself to sleep every night.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Heather is afraid. When she reaches out to friends and family, she's accused of being dramatic. Her loved ones insist that these feelings are normal for teenagers, and nothing is wrong. She is instructed to "suck it up".</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Heather wonders what it will take for people to understand that she is not ok? She begins to behave erratically. She no longer cares about fitting in or having cool friends. Sometimes she darts randomly into traffic, praying that she will be hit by a car. Eventually, she is admitted to hospital. She is upset and afraid, but she also feels relieved. Now they know something is wrong, now they will help her!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The doctors know something is wrong, but they don't know what. They say that she is depressed and they give her medicine. Medicine that is not made for the creature she was meant to be. Medicine for humans who are depressed....</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Her mind and body react violently to the assault of strange chemicals flowing through her. Any ounce of self control she had is lost. The erratic behaviours worsen, so the doctors increase the dose. Heather soon becomes aggressive, hurting herself and those around her. Her clothes are taken away and she is given a pair of yellow pyjamas.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>She is led to a small, brightly lit room, and a heavy door is shut and locked behind her. She is alone. Although this room is similar in many ways to the nurses office of Heathers childhood school, with its cool, clean surfaces, she finds no peace here. She screams and sobs hysterically, pounding her fists against the door, before crumpling, exhausted, onto a cot in the corner. She is disappointed that the ceiling is smooth, and not tiled, like the rest of the hospital.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The doctors decide that anti-psychotic medicine is the best course of action. The effects of the various drugs they try make the next 5 years or so a blur of hysterical crying, blue pyjamas, and counsellors telling Heather that getting well is a choice, that it takes effort, and that she must "do the work".</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>At some point during this blur, the doctors (failing to see that she is a strange creature trapped inside the body of a human, violently reacting to drugs that aren't meant for her) decide that she has a personality disorder.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Borderline Personality Disorder is our working diagnosis", the psychiatrist explains to Heather and her mother. Heather fidgets with the elastic waistband on her blue pyjamas, as tears fill her eyes, obscuring her vision. She looks up at the lights on the ceiling to watch how they change shape, bending through the prism of tears, and tries to tune out the sound of the doctors voice, as he continues...</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"People with this condition typically"...."strain on the caregivers"....."emotional manipulation".... "attention seeking behaviours".... "until she wants to get better, there is little we can do."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Heather shoots the psychiatrist an icy glare. How dare he accuse her of wanting to live in this torturous hell?</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Do you have something you wish to say to me?" The psychiatrist asks, smiling sweetly as though he hadn't just called her a manipulative bitch who doesn't want to get better.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>His tone throws her off. She tries to scream at him, but chokes on her words.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"I, I do want to get better" she croaks out meekly. "That's good!" he says in his most patronizing tone, and chuckles to himself, "That means we won't have any more incidents like yesterday, right?"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Heather tries to remember what happened yesterday and is immediately overwhelmed by scattered images that make no sense. She becomes frozen, like a statue, unable to form a response.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Well?", the psychiatrist leans forward in his seat, looking into Heathers eyes as she tries not to feel him looking at her.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"No" she whispers. "No."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>by Heather M</i></span></div>
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Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-64333107767702312212016-02-08T16:08:00.000-08:002020-02-24T17:46:56.361-08:00Like walking on needles while dizzy. by Natasha P.<span style="font-size: x-large;">"G<span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 16.08px;">ood old meltdowns. It's hard for people to understand/re</span><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 16.08px;">late to the pain they have not experienced in a certain context. Doesn't matter if you are on the spectrum or not, another can discard your agony as fictional, because they cannot imagine what it feels like or it isn't rationally possible for them. The same experience for two people can vary greatly in stress levels. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 16.08px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 16.08px;">I've had meltdowns from emotional overload forever and decided eventually to suppress/hide them for years to avoid "bothering" others (BAD decision). It's like walking on needles while dizzy till you can exhale and melt down properly (does it sound similar at all?). </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 16.08px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 16.08px;">As long as people can understand that a meltdown comes from extreme stress and pain, I have faith that they will relate, because everyone has experienced emotionally painful and devastating things at least once in their lives. For someone with autistic traits, it can be a daily experience. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 16.08px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 16.08px;">Obviously, such high levels of stress need to resolve somehow! I do hope this issue will find its proper definition and description in the world and will be treated without stigma."</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 16.08px;">- Natasha P.</span></span><br />
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Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-91434075415589249732016-01-26T11:59:00.003-08:002016-01-27T15:22:36.835-08:00Trying To Find A Balance, by Kristin N.<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 15px;">"We have to start communicating with one another if we are ever going to truly understand and be able to accommodate the needs of others. Too many of us suffer in silence, because when we try to speak up, we get shut down. It’s like no one really wants to listen, and they’re only out for themselves. All it takes is just a little compassion and the willingness to come up with solutions that will be mutually beneficial. I feel like this would solve a lot of problems in our world. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 15px;">We think that there’s no way everyone could get exactly what they need, but that’s not true, it just may not be in the way you had anticipated it, and you may have to find a balance with the needs of others. We make things out to be much more difficult than they really are. We say that it can’t be done, when we haven’t even really tried. You can’t just attempt to do something once and hope everything changes overnight. It’s a gradual process, that needs time and consideration. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 15px;">I guess people just don’t want to take the time to do things a different way. They would rather try to find a quick fix that doesn’t actually do anything to fix the things that are broken. We have a broken system that we keep trying to repair. But the truth is, the system needs to be rebuilt completely from scratch. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 15px;">The first thing that comes to mind is how much time it’s going to take. Time means nothing when it comes to creating a better life that everyone can enjoy to the fullest. We are already wasting time by doing nothing. We have to take responsibility for ourselves and the planet. The very first thing you can do is work on your own personal transformation which inspires others to do the same. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 15px;">You can’t make changes if you do things the same as everyone else. We all have our own unique purpose and they are equally important. We need to embrace our differences, because there is only one YOU on this planet. YOU are the only person who can do what YOU were meant to accomplish. No one else can take your place. Your experience is vital to the healing of every last soul that walks the earth, so make the most of it, and don’t ever give up!"</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 15px;">- Kristin N. </span>Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-33110795776993730742016-01-17T19:01:00.001-08:002016-01-27T15:23:05.647-08:00A tribulation of Self-Advocacy.<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fefefe; color: #373e4d; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #fefefe; color: #373e4d; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">An unfortunate truth (which needs to change): </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fefefe; color: #373e4d; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Self-advocacy is somehow conflated with self-promotion and egotism. It has a strange unarticulated connection with accessing limited resources without having "earned" them.
It's somehow tied to some part of our lizard brain." - M.K.</span></span>Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-31543555499317035252016-01-13T13:29:00.002-08:002016-01-13T13:29:33.410-08:00Struggles With School - by Kristin N. <div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 8px;">
<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">I want to share some of my story about my struggle with being on the spectrum in school and how I felt I wasn’t accommodated. This was also because when I was growing up, they didn’t have very much information on what Autism actually was, especially when it came to women, so I was never diagnosed. People have this idea that those who are Autistic are one specific way, but we all have differences as well. Not all of us are male and enjoy things like Science and Math. Some of us are very much female, and as for me, I’ve always done better with English. Before I started school, my Mom would take me to the library, where she taught me the alphabet. She read some stories out loud for me, but I learned very quickly and was able to teach myself how to read after only learning a few basic words. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">By the time I got to school, I was already reading way beyond my years. I always had my nose in really thick books with language that the other kids hadn’t picked up on yet. I would get these reading certificates for being the best reader in class. I also taught myself how to write, but my handwriting wasn’t always the best so my teachers would struggle with being able to read it. I wouldn’t put enough space between the letters and words, and my ‘a’s looked like ‘o’s. They could never tell that my check marks were check marks. I still have sloppy handwriting at times to this day, and even run off the lines so that’s why I prefer to type. My teachers would try to teach me how to do it, but I couldn’t get it right. I could tell they got frustrated with me, and just didn’t know how to approach the situation.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">I was in speech therapy for stuttering for the first two years of school. I started being able to speak better, at least enough for them to understand, but I still had trouble with certain words, and because they sounded as if they were well spoken, my teachers didn’t realize I had trouble processing these words before they would come out of my mouth. It took everything in me, taking away a lot of the energy I had, just to get these words out that I struggled with, but because the issue wasn’t visible to them, they never thought it was a problem. For example, I was in the 2nd grade and I asked my teacher if I could use the “potty”, so I got in trouble for using that word, was told that it was inappropriate, and I should use the word “restroom” instead. I remember how frustrated I would get trying to say it, I tried to explain that it was difficult for me, but she just assumed I was being defiant, and forced me to say the word that was harder for me to process and get out.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">I feel as if I got in trouble for a lot of things my teachers didn’t understand. I had difficulties with many things, so they thought that it meant I was being a bad kid. I had trouble with sleeping during nap time because of my sensory issues, I would just lay there the entire time with my eyes open, and if they saw me awake, they would yell at me to go to sleep. I was asked to stay after class to discuss my behavior, especially when it came to my disorganized desk, and constantly forgetting things like my textbooks at home. I didn’t mean to be this way, I just didn’t think the same way as the other kids. I was constantly searching my desk through wads of papers stuffed in there, so I could barely find anything. No one tried to teach me how to get organized, at least in a way I could understand, so I got punished. Because of the constant sensory overload and social anxiety, I would do things like balance the back legs of my chair, rocking back and forth, because that's how I felt comfortable stimming. I was told I needed to stop what I was doing because I was distracting the rest of the class, but I had no clue what else I could’ve been doing differently to help me focus better.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">I remember being in class for an exam one day and being allowed to chew on a candy necklace. It was the one day I felt like I was actually being accommodated for the way I was, occupying myself with the candy necklace made it so it was much easier to take the test. But of course, it never happened again after that. I loved writing on the inside of my desk which obviously had my teachers upset, so I had to spend the entire class once scrubbing it off. I didn’t know that it was wrong, because it made me feel better to carve things into desks and draw in them, so I saw no problem with it. I tried wearing these leather gloves to class a few times but the teachers got furious once again because it was strange to them, they didn’t understand that it helped me. I tried to do many things differently, and felt very misunderstood because of it. I loved to vocally stim the most out of anything and that made people think I was just being rude. I interrupted class a lot because I would get super anxious, yelling out random words I liked, making sound effects, humming, and repeating things over and over that made me feel good. This always caused the other kids to laugh of course, but they weren’t really laughing with me like I thought, they were laughing at me.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">That’s when the bullying really started. I would make these animal sounds in particular, getting completely animated mimicking different animals, barking like a dog, etc. The kids called me ugly, weird, and stupid, among other things. They made fun of the way I walked. I constantly struggled with keeping my shoes tied so I was always tripping over myself. I hated that I could never get the shoelaces tied just right, so I started wearing high heels to school a few times because I grew tired of being made fun of. I would end up being late to class because I would struggle getting up and down the stairs. I would have to take it step by step very slowly until I would get to the top. It wasn’t comfortable to say the least and it just ended up making it so I got made fun of even more. My Mom would pick out my clothes not realizing a lot of stuff she picked out didn’t match or would end up being see-through or something. I got teased a lot for the way I dressed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">I accidentally started a rumor about myself that I was a lesbian because I had kissed my friend and told another friend so word got around. I went along with it thinking guys liked lesbians based off of what my friend said, so I was tortured for years because of that. They had something else now they could use to get under my skin, and it was actually my fault that it happened even though I wasn't aware of what I had done. I would stare down guys I liked and people in general, which had people constantly talking trash about me, making me feel as if I was a sick person because I stared people down and couldn’t help it. I hated lining up at the door with all the other kids because of how close we were while standing there together. It sent my anxiety through the roof and I always got this sense of relief when the line would start moving. From the very moment I started school, even at the orientation, I hated being in groups of kids. We sat down for story time, and I grew very uncomfortable sitting there, so I just broke down crying, begging my Mom to take me home, at the orientation before kindergarten. Most of the kids didn’t want anything to do with me because I was so different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">I would play on the playground by myself a lot and ended up getting physically hurt from doing really impulsive things like standing on the pull-up bars and jumping off, smacking face first into the concrete. My favorite thing was the monkey bars, anything where I could dangle myself, feeling that pressure in my legs. The other kids would be playing on the slide and jumping rope while I was hanging upside down. One of the guys I had a crush on used me in this tag game they made up. I was so excited to play with the other kids for once, especially a guy I liked, so I didn’t realize that they turned me into the big, ugly, scary monster that chased them around the playground. They would tell me how gross I was when I would come close, but at that age I had no clue that it was a bad thing what was happening. I truly thought they just liked to play with me, but I was very wrong.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">I’m pretty sure my grades started to drop most of all due to the bullying, and due to the fact that nothing was ever done about it. It became much harder to concentrate with all that anxiety. The sensory issues and problems with interacting socially caused me to get physically ill, so I ended up in the school office a lot laying down, waiting to get picked up to go home early. I did have a few times where I had faked it, but most of the time I was truly sick. I couldn’t ever handle being called on. I absolutely hated being surprised, getting caught off guard to give responses to questions being asked, because I couldn't process it quickly enough. I didn’t mind if I was ready to give the answer by raising my hand on my own accord, but my teachers constantly targeted me, putting me on the spot when I wasn't ready to give an answer. So many times I would just say “I don’t know” or nothing at all which caused people to think I was slow. I would tell my Mom I needed help with my homework, but she was always more concerned with my sister because the teachers stated she had ADD, so my Mom spent the entire time helping her, telling me I was smart enough to figure it out on my own, because I was able to focus better than my little sister. Little did she know I struggled with comprehension, simply understanding what I was reading. It would take me a long time to figure out the answers, sometimes I would sit there for hours on one problem, and just eventually give up. Luckily a lot of homework assignments got graded on completion instead of accuracy, so that kept my grades up for a while. I was always confused how I would get some of the answers. I never knew how I was doing it, I would just do it. I did the pronoun reversal thing as well, always switching the point of view of the person while writing, and I still struggle to this day with it and have to go back and edit my work constantly. I continued to vocally stim in middle school when I first got there, but because they kicked me out of class so much, getting all these lunch detentions, I stopped doing it for a while. So I began taking my pens and pencils and poking my arms over and over to offer that stimulation that I needed.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 8px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">This is when I really started becoming more mute, because I was always on guard with the other kids, and also wasn’t allowed to do the things I needed to do in order to cope. I switched middle schools halfway through my 8th grade year, so I began vocally stimming again in class, but this time I wasn’t really interested in learning anymore. I was purposely trying to turn it into a joke because it made me feel good to express myself that way, I just didn’t care about anything else anymore. I would mostly shout out random words, I believe my favorite one was “Cookie”. I do the same thing now with the word “Butts” where I just repeat a certain word I like over and over again. My grades started dropping more drastically where I had failed a couple of classes for the first time in my life, but I still managed to pass enough to get to high school. I became disruptive because either I suffered in silence filled with all my anxiety and sensory sensitivity, or people thought I was a complete weirdo shouting and making noises to make myself feel better. My teachers always saw me as a problem instead of trying to figure out solutions to help me. I think that’s the biggest issue with the way these educators treat the students in general. They automatically assumed I was acting this way as a way to act out, but I was just doing what I needed to do to survive school. They had no clue what was going on with me and neither did I. I believed what they thought about me, which made things really depressing because I saw myself in a negative light instead of seeing myself for who I really am. I couldn't figure out why I felt I was doing everything so wrong.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">I feel a lot more at peace now that I’ve discovered that I’m Autistic, having figured out that society is the problem. I absolutely dreaded presentations, they tried to get me to do a lot of them. It was easier for me to do as a small child but the older I got, the worse it got. I even backed out of a presentation, taking a zero on it knowing that if I didn’t do well on the midterm, I wouldn’t have graduated high school. I was so scared of getting up in front of the class, that everything I had worked for meant absolutely nothing to me. I skipped a lot of high school but still managed to get by. I ended up dropping classes immediately in college where they tried to get me to do presentations as well. I also had this one teacher who purposely saw I was the quietest in the class, so he called on me over and over, and even used me as an example for sexual harassment which made me very uncomfortable considering all the sexual abuse I had endured in my life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">I felt like I was always singled out because I tried to fade into the background, so I wouldn't be noticed. I would’ve much rather worked on my own instead of constantly being concerned with whether or not my teacher was going to force me to communicate. I ended up skipping college as well and would get picked up by friends as soon as I would get dropped off. But many times I didn’t have a ride, so I would just walk around the school while class was going on. I would sit out in the hallway and read. I also sat in the bathroom when I started feeling weird because I was out in the open, I got paranoid I was going to get caught, or someone in my class was going to see me walking around school, noticing I had been skipping class.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">Little did I know that no one in college really cared or paid attention, because I barely said a word. I ended up not going back to class when I would get let out for bathroom breaks. My teacher even called it out one day, and said that we weren’t going to get those short breaks if people didn’t stop leaving for the day. He also tried to make it so we would have to take tests after the bathroom breaks just so people like me would actually come back to class. I would memorize the review sheets right before taking the quizzes but forgot all the information immediately after I was done. I didn’t learn much of anything. It was just memorize, take the test, repeat, because I wasn't interested anymore. I feel being in school didn’t utilize any of my strengths, especially because I’m such an abstract thinker. I need to think outside the box and do things my way in order to do well. They don’t offer the right tools so people like me can function better in a classroom setting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">I never knew how to cope. I was never properly taught, and I was never given any guidance. It also didn’t help that no one was really informed of my autism or anything else for that matter. They turned a blind eye to me and I suffered greatly, thinking I was stupid for many years because I couldn’t do things the same as everyone else. I did things with my intuition and from the heart instead of using a more logical approach, which made things even more difficult for me. I eventually figured out the answers but it took a very long time for me to get there, and I had to do it all on my own. Our voices need to be heard and we need to be recognized for who we are, instead of allowing them to mold us into just one way of thinking, since there's never just one right way of doing things. I think and learn differently as an Autistic woman, so that should be accommodated for. I feel we definitely need to put an end to all this stigma around kids who seem like they're being disruptive when they actually need help. It’s also another reason I’m afraid to ask for help to this day, mainly because I never got it as a child. We all deserve the same kind of treatment any other kid gets, and that’s why I'll continue to let my voice be heard so we can prevent this from happening to anyone else ever again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-Kristin N. </span></div>
Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-83461204010608180442015-12-31T10:46:00.001-08:002015-12-31T10:46:59.141-08:00On materialism <span style="font-size: large;">"<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">What bothers me the most is the rampant materialism in our society. It's not just celebrities; although, like you said (in *<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ILFK_64fCwE&lc=z12ovxrjmt32tpnzg04cjv4i1wzpxv4jj1k">this</a>* video) they're the ones that COULD be making the biggest positive impact. It's the poor, middle class and upper middle class (mostly), and the rich. When I park on campus, I too often pull up next to a monster truck. When I jog through the streets in my neighborhood, it's a sea of tinted windows and shiny rims.</span></span></span></span><br />
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Christmas just having recently passed, witnessing this just further fuels my anger. People can't/don't want to see the large problem with running out to retail stores and wasting money on piles of stuff so we can collectively celebrate our consumerism.
I'm well aware of the drawbacks of communism and totalitarianism (Western European socialism is working the best right now), and I know you were joking about the totalitarian government thing. But how many years will it take before it becomes obvious that capitalism has caused more destruction over the last few decades than there would have been otherwise with communism keeping America's materialism at bay? The not-so-distant future when world hunger, poverty, and inequality spiral completely out of control."</span><br />
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Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-22386124251777071732015-12-05T00:18:00.001-08:002015-12-05T00:18:22.575-08:00Justin Fahmie's story <div class="_1dwg" style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 12px 12px 0px;">
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At 15 years old, my stomach began to feel not quite right. After a few months my mom noticed I was slowly withering away. Nearly 6 feet tall, and barely covering 100lbs. Local docs were hopeless. My mom fought for me to get admitted to children's hospital. </div>
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Children's hospital finally found the problem.. Some weird thing called Crohns. At the time the word meant nothing to me. A cool nurse hid me a nurse laptop station, so I could use the Internet and research. </div>
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So I spent the week or however long I was admitted for researching. Learning what I was in store for. I also found people like Lorraine and Joel at this time. My first real support group. </div>
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Soon after eating the hospital I went to the CCFA camp hope on the mountain. Where I spent time with other kids with Crohns. It was overall a decent time. I saw many who felt like I did. One of which I still contact to this day. </div>
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Transitioning into an adult with Crohns has been a nightmare. Doctors have no compassion. The doctors who care are so held back by laws and policies they can't be effective. Medications don't work, doctors don't believe you, it's a vicious cycle </div>
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Now, 32 years old. More than half my life I've been in agonizing pain and no one, not a single person. Can help me. Doctors throw drugs at me, then it's my fault they don't work. </div>
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How would you feel spending your life like this? Not just daily.. </div>
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EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAY AND IT NEVER ENDS.<br />
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- Justin Fahmie<br />
<span style="background-color: #fefefe; color: #373e4d; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pueblokc@gmail.com </span></div>
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Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-31269741267829843972015-08-09T02:43:00.001-07:002015-08-09T02:43:25.882-07:00"Eccentric greats, cookie cutter fakes" - Chris P.<div style="font-family: Helvetica;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"You know, once upon a time, people of differing minds were appreciated. James Brown would be a crazy today. Janis Joplin would be also. Notice how today we don’t have very many eccentric musicians or artists? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It’s all cookie cutter and anything outside of what is considered normal and mainstream is 'omg soo weird!' 'oooh awkward!' everything outside of a trend is a deficit, disorder, or a syndrome. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">People who are different or who march to the beat of their own drum are looked down upon harshly in this society. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you look hot though, and have social skills, and say all the lingo effortlessly.. You're good. You could be obnoxious, annoying and as loud as ya want to be and if you look like a model and you're extroverted, the world will eat out of your hand!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The DSM is as bad as a Bible. its used to discriminate against different groups of people far too much than it helps.</span></div>
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<span data-reactid=".7i.1:$mid=11438272871796=28c0e0d753c0c8ea149.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span style="font-size: large;">Notice you dont have any ozzy osbournes or little richards or even comedy that has an eccentric bend to it these days. Hollywood, the same. You gotta look beyond america if you want real eccentricity; the story lines and the humor thats raucous, mischevious, and downright clevor and funny. I love foreign films …</span></span></div>
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<span data-reactid=".7i.1:$mid=11438272871796=28c0e0d753c0c8ea149.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span style="font-size: large;">I just had to rant!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> - Chris P. </span></div>
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Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-88648618448812764732015-04-14T21:45:00.000-07:002015-04-14T22:14:59.925-07:00Meltdowns and Overload - Learning and Reflecting. -Nathaniel Allen<div style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
There was a link posted by <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=618695430" href="https://www.facebook.com/rose.guedes.7923" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Rosie Guedes</a> I read today. It was about meltdowns that autistic people experience. I gathered that what they go through, especially the children go through is very, very similar to the situations I faced as a child and teenager. I still get into the head space that I have to run away or find a quiet place in a building and find a way to make it only a bit of light, nothing too bright.</div>
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Going into busy supermarkets is an assault on my senses and its very uncomfortable for me to be in them. Just going to the local mental wellness center is very draining. Trying to process all the information from the speech and body language of those around me is quite difficult. I can't keep up with it at all, It gets exhausting and today in one part of a new course I was bulding into a near panic state. I was able to get through it with sheer determination. Some things that may appear to be mundane are incredibly difficult for me to handle. I appreciate the patience and understanding of those I have met through Centennial Place and those I have also met online via Facebeook. </div>
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When I was a kid I was regularly picked on and attacked physically by my peers. I never felt like I fit in any kind of way and teasing and bullying became something that I had to get used to. As I grew older the abusive behaviors of my peers became far too subtle for me and I got confused and bewildered by all the puberty and early adulthood nonsense. I just couldn't quite "get it". People seem to be flying past me at supersonic speed and I just want to stand under a lilac and smell the flowers.</div>
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I had meltdowns. I would go all berserk mode, Super Saiyan, when backed into a corner, I had full blown panic attacks at school. I have lost so many oppportunities because of things that I have had to put immense amounts of effort into managing. It just hasn't been easy. I get quite frustrated at my lack of progress but I am slowly realizing that I actually have done rather well considering the challenges I have faced. I am thankful to have met several interesting people that have opened my eyes a slight bit, </div>
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Basically 2014 and the last 2 months have been the most peaceful days in my life. I kid you not. I may not have many friends to spend time with but I am slowly becoming more used to being on my own and enjoying time spent away from other people. I do enjoy company but I am not the kind of person that goes out and parties. I like peaceful surroundings. </div>
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Which brings me to what should be my main point. I am learning more about myself than I have in 8 years, The work of people like Rosie Guedes and the hard work of the members and staff of Centennial Place has helped me immensely. I have been educated on Aspergers, NLD, Autism, by Rosie and her friends and there have been posts made that have struck a chord in my mind. I appreciate it. </div>
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Thanks for reading this and I hope you all have a good week.</div>
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-Nathaniel Allen</div>
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Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-88519120132154783712015-04-14T20:32:00.002-07:002015-04-14T22:14:27.175-07:00Selfishness vs. Self-Preservation. -Chrissy Shahankary <span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">"It's survival. if one didn't fulfill their own needs and desires then they would die or be just plain miserable. There's a fine line between selfishness and self preservation. Society's view is blurred. Psychology's view even more so..its hard to see from anothers point of view from such a high horse."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, lucida grande, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">-Chrissy Shahankary </span></span>Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-69183223637206542452015-04-07T23:11:00.003-07:002015-04-07T23:11:21.104-07:00Folders - by Nathaniel Allen<span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">The world was not made for us. We don't fit into the file folders made for us that apparently can apply to the majority of people. We have "different" needs because we are "different". We are not people that need to be cured or modified. We are what we are. Sensitive types, odd balls, the eccentric. Instead of trying to tamper with what should not be modified to serve a selfish purpose we as a society should find the gifts of those we know and encourage and facilitate the enjoyment of those gifts. There is a lot of potential out there if one listens and observes in a mindful manner.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">- Nathaniel Allen</span>Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-4189561820932604542015-03-09T00:44:00.001-07:002015-03-09T00:44:15.725-07:00Missing Pieces - by Eden Colvert<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Do you know what it's like to have a body part stop working kind of sudden like? Feels weird doesn't it? The bad part is never knowing when this will occur or the frequency that might cause a ripple effect and affect more areas. It makes it interesting to think of whether you can make it through the day without randomly missing a body here or there along the way. To start missing toes is rough when it happens anywhere else except for home, as I don't need shoes for here only </span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">there if I can't manage to make it there without them. It also makes people constantly ask me if I know that my shoes are untied when I don't tuck the ends of my laces inside before I put them on and I try not to reflexively kick them off when my toes fall off/curl under and do all those wonderful that I'd rather they didn't. Gotta be careful not to drop things when my fingers seem to have temporarily disappeared from where I normally keep them things hanging around and thankfully we have handles to prevent those occasional spills going everywhere deals and another banged up breakage scenarios in play. I still have a few coffee cups with handles still intact but hard to find one without a chip or crack. Which is what makes me such a clutz at times and randomly grabbing to clutch something, anything in reach before my legs vanish from underneath me and I go down to give my fish out of water interpretive dance moves right before you're very eyes. WAIT, whatever you do don't call an ambulance too quickly, just so you might witness my flight or fight moves of a startled dear caught in the headlight PTSD freakshow delight of winner take all. You really want to see if it turns into a slugfest if the emergency personnel ain't extremely careful of their movements around me, yes I do know that I have a seizure disorder that I can't be prescribed any of the current traditional medical treatments that are popular at the moment. Instead I'm currently on a non-scientific traditional medical treatment that is currently unpopular because of it's traditional roots that predate modern scientific medical procedures. So call me what you will, any vile thing you can think of because in the end you'll call me doctor too :-D</span><br />
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">-Eden Colvert </span>Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-63427496492329171862015-03-04T09:39:00.002-08:002020-02-24T17:48:25.702-08:00Shadow Woman <div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
All my life i have felt isolated and excluded from a life, a society i have admired and been mesmerised by. People to me became robots , i felt as if i had been placed in a world which isn't a part of reality. Everyone seemed too perfect. I have always encountered issues which i had kept silent about and never shone a light on.</div>
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Making friends was excruciatingly difficult. People would leave me and i would be left puzzeled as to what i had done wrong. Why did they not want to be my friends?. I realised i had to act and create a persona similar to these robots. I didn't understand their jokes, sarcasm or why certain things were funny to the majority. I just pretended to understand those social ques. Most thought i was naive, stupid or a clown. In reality i just didn't understand. I observe these beings around me in wonder as to why they act and talk the way they do. It's like i wasn't as mature as them or i was lacking the initiative they had.</div>
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Handwriting has always been a huge problem for me . I miss out letters or draw squiggles even though i visualise it differently. I have an inner voice, my real perception of this world which i hide.</div>
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My teachers assume that i plagiarise, that i copy other peoples work. They view me as a teenager who is not capable of writing well. The way i want to talk after observing people just wouldn't be socially exceptable. People would think i am obnoxious, big headed or see my self as being superior. More than that weird.</div>
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I can understand why because i am a very philosophical person from all the analysing and deep thinking i have done all my life. Most thought i was depressed or rude. I just wanted to understand society, to know where i belong. I wanted to be able to have similar facial expressions and hand gestures. It was all so alien to me.</div>
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Loud sounds to me are like an earthquake. I tried to train myself to endure loud sounds without having to cover my ears. This was by listening to loud music. However the only thing i gained from doing that was being able to withstand loud music.</div>
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I feel like I'm walking but my feet just quite don't touch the ground. Work which i don't find stimulating by being challenging is hard to do because it's boring. The grades may show i am an average or lazy student but the fact is i am not interested.</div>
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All my life i have been noted as being the weird person. I would try and hide my unsual behaviour. For example twisting my arms, moving my jaw awkwardly and biting my hands when anxious or happy. It's so embarrassing when i do these actions but i can't control myself. Doctors have ignored me. Told me to listen to music and have my teachers help me. I am leaving school soon to go to university. It's too late, all i can hope is now that my life becomes easier, that i accomplish my goal of being normal.</div>
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University for me i think will be positive. I am going to study something i have a passion for and i think i will be able to understand. It is the perfect escape route. The perfect mixture of black and white, logic and wonder and, pessimism and optimism. For once i will be able to see my goal, the white light in the darkness. The colour black will bring shape and shade to the different exits and entries within my mind. I will know where i stand. For once in my life i might feel normal. Biochemistry is the subject which won't make me feel isolated. Even though i have people around me, I'll have a place where i think I'll be able to fit in, belong and express myself.</div>
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-Shadow Woman</div>
Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-24306622350106950462015-02-26T15:35:00.001-08:002015-02-26T15:35:39.733-08:00Differing Viewpoints - by Eden Colvert <span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">You never know when y</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">ou catch the eye of another looking at you from across the room, what it is they think of you in that moment alone. I know that some look and think "beautiful but dumb" and are shocked the moment they hear them speak. Others look and think looks good but I wonder.............well let me edge closer to hear them talk and OMG what a waste, dumber than a box of rocks but that's ok we can be friends but never lovers...........some look at only the outside while not really wanting the inside, while others look at the inside without really wanting to touch the outside at all. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">When these 2 meet and the sparks begin to fly back and forth from one to another being the polar opposites that they are, starting off with the silly banter of the one looking at the outside and giggly replies of the one looking at the inside. The one looking at the outside showers all manners of words in hope to find the magic words that they have been taught to use to unlock that which they want in that moment alone, while the one looking inside giggles as they take those magic words and rearranges them in a more magical way to hand back in their exchanges of keys to locks...............which way will it go in the quest to unlock that of their highest desire in that moment alone, for you see the one looking at the inside can never become as one who looks only at the outside, but the one looking at the outside can become as one who looks at the inside too.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">-Eden Colvert </span>Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-85641853952114098122015-02-06T03:23:00.003-08:002015-02-06T03:24:33.260-08:00Neurotypical Burden - by Roman Soiko<div style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
Neurotypical Burden</div>
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Take up the neurotypical burden<br />
take for all your might<br />
help those condemned children<br />
with all your heart hope and might</div>
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perhaps you want to work with drugs and labels<br />
perhaps you want to memorize statutes<br />
perhaps you have it with to argue with parents<br />
every day and night</div>
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take up the neurotypical burden<br />
take it if you will<br />
help those poor condemned miserable children<br />
half devil and half child</div>
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perhaps you are aware<br />
that without your help<br />
these children will flounder<br />
under their combined miseries<br />
without your angelic,altruistic messanic help</div>
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Take up the neurotypical burden<br />
take if you will<br />
fight for these children<br />
because they cannot do it themselves</div>
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with every move and decision<br />
make sure you watch them omnipresently<br />
least they fall into autistic cataclysms</div>
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take up the neurotypical burden<br />
take it up in the gavel halls of Pennsylvania<br />
or perhaps in the austere halls of the United Nations</div>
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Take up the neurotypical burden<br />
make sure you know<br />
your hope inspiration and joy<br />
is what keeps these children afloat</div>
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Take up the neurotypical burden<br />
and make it clear as day and night<br />
that you are the only reason why these children have any sight</div>
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-Roman Soiko</div>
Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-55940965291107326152015-01-24T18:48:00.001-08:002016-01-03T05:09:53.970-08:00Sick, getting worse, and not receiving medical care due to "somatic" mental illness accusation: Caryn Marie's Story<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Final update: Caryn is now diagnosed with POTS, is on meds that are working to help keep her stable, has a guide dog to help her, support from her family now, and even has been able to hold a job in a caring environment. This is a far cry from the story below. I'm so glad that myself and another lady in the community got in touch with her and were able to tell her about POTS. It was a fight at first but she has won now! Right on. However, it is too bad that doctors often initially treat people like Caryn with contempt like this, therefore putting them through unnecessary trauma and a fight to be recognized. Many of us get through to the other side, but we hope one day things will change. </span></span></span><br />
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<i style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">This was a very serious matter, and Caryn went through hell in this situation. I</i><i style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">t was very clear to me, if it isn't to you after reading this and/or watching Caryn's video, that she is telling the truth and she is genuinely unwell with something that is likely complex, unusual or rare, and indeed serious. </span></span></i><br />
<i style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></i>
<i style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Doctors pull the abusive move of labelling someone with a condition like somatoform, when they can't find anything wrong with their patient, because they don't think outside the box. They aren't pinpointing the problem enough to order the right tests, but they don't want to admit that they're wrong, and they also want to save money. So, they pin the blame back on the patient. This is abusive and is patient mistreatment. It's a human right violation. It needs to stop.</span></span></i><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i><b><u>*Update on Caryn's situation* (earlier March, a more promising update.)</u></b></i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></i></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 18px;">Caryn's condition became so bad that she was admitted to hospital. She became wheelchair bound and could barely stand upright without passing out. While in hospital, she remained in online communication with me, her friends and her family, through her phone. At this point I told Caryn that based on her symptoms, I felt, as did another experienced peer Susanne Bird, that she had severe POTS - a form of dysautonomia. I told her to make sure she was getting her electrolytes in, such as salt and potassium. She told me she was still being accused of somotaform disorder, which is absurd because she is now clearly ill. </span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></i></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 18px;">Then, believe it or not, she was committed to the psych ward. Caryn stuck to her guns, continuing to advocate for herself and looking into her symptoms. Caryn then told me she was hyper mobile and sent me some pictures of her bending her fingers back.</span></i></span></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">We realized there was a pattern for sure. </span></i><i style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">It became very clear to me that Caryn likely has the condition I have, Ehlers-danlos, which causes POTS/dysautonomia and ALL her other symptoms. People with EDS, myself included, are often very poorly treated, and even abused, in the medical system especially before diagnosis. This is unsafe because the complications of EDS can be dangerous and sometimes even deadly. I myself had to fight to obtain a safe-grounding diagnosis of EDS and I have my own story on that one.</span></span></i><br />
<i style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></i>
<i style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">EDS symptoms are systemic, but caused by the unusual source of the weak connective tissue. They can be everything from joint pain, early arthritis and injury, skin fragility to internal symptoms like POTS and poor infection healing. More info *</span></span><a href="https://www.ehlers-danlos.org/" style="color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">here</a><span style="color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">* </span></i><i style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Until the condition is identified for what it is, the nature of the symptoms are poorly understood, and wrong tests are performed. When those tests don't turn up any answers, doctors tend to throw psych labels at the patient, instead of looking deeper. More EDS awareness is badly needed. </span></span></i><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></i></span></span>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 18px;">So, Caryn began to vocalize some of this to doctors. Initially, they gave her a tilt table test for POTS and it was positive, but they tried to tell her it was severe anxiety from somatoform. However, she was eventually seen by a competent Neurologist who correctly diagnosed her with POTS, and agreed to refer her to a well known Boston EDS specialist. I told Caryn about Chiari Malformation, which is when the neck is too weak to support the head and it begins slipping. As it gets worse and can cause very severe dyautonomia and POTS, causing one to pass out when trying to stand upright. </span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></i></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><i><span style="line-height: 18px;">The relieving news here is that Caryn is no longer committed to the psych ward for the bogus "somatoform" and she is home safe, with her family supporting her, waiting to follow up with actually competent Drs. She may not be totally out of the clear yet though, so lets continue to support her. Caryn is considering obtaining some form of justice for the way she was treated these past few years, while getting sicker. Like many of us, she has been traumatized by this ordeal. Imagine being very sick, and frightened, and also having to endure trauma at the hands of abusive medicals. It has been a nightmare for Caryin, and it will take a while for her to heal from all this. </span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYfWk-Lai2iYDb24QJiATFsDLIYHGOniO-LI3n64HSDAtK5NY-pD3_99-HseEfDnnXzabJBCVEhzg_0SKxsSEqAq1VgB2BZqkO75ZnEFVbNrrvnbIhz5kB-n4xnQ9KD1MqxQLfwC18u0z/s1600/11007604_1542526592691509_239618862_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYfWk-Lai2iYDb24QJiATFsDLIYHGOniO-LI3n64HSDAtK5NY-pD3_99-HseEfDnnXzabJBCVEhzg_0SKxsSEqAq1VgB2BZqkO75ZnEFVbNrrvnbIhz5kB-n4xnQ9KD1MqxQLfwC18u0z/s1600/11007604_1542526592691509_239618862_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><i>The above photograph shows a young woman who has fallen ill, not someone who has convinced themselves due to a supposed mental disorder. She looks very pale, sick and drained. You can see that she has very soft skin. Below, Caryn demonstrates her very bendy joints.</i></span></span><b><br /></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyGhwBnj9GG6CsJgkouvHV81At71l9FSbSpNSRKFngaMLxiTDyxpehZcyrKXIgJ2cD7AYngGlbKzk16X0GayPbyGEgDxQI0bFNxjKNrXWjN6WLSUPpVp4yDPrLmSsiJ9VYJMPJGKFflxCH/s1600/carynbendy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyGhwBnj9GG6CsJgkouvHV81At71l9FSbSpNSRKFngaMLxiTDyxpehZcyrKXIgJ2cD7AYngGlbKzk16X0GayPbyGEgDxQI0bFNxjKNrXWjN6WLSUPpVp4yDPrLmSsiJ9VYJMPJGKFflxCH/s1600/carynbendy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Sick, getting worse, and not receiving medical care due to "somatic" mental illness accusation: Caryn Marie's Story:</span></b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">So about two years ago I constanty got sick. I got chronic sinus infections and sick. I knew anxiety ran in my family but so did alot of other health problems. Last january I had been on antibiotics about 6xs within the previous year and and that's when all my symptoms started getting bad. I was starting to get tired all the time.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">I wasn't sleeping through the night. I was choking on my breath during my sleep and waking up with constant nosebleeds. My body was just doing something on its own. I got stressed, but I would always find a way to manage it. At first I thought it was just stress, so I remember telling my boyfriend at the time I wanted to start working out...but all I remember is working out and feeling this weird shock that I never felt in my body. I thought maybe my body just wasnt ready to work out that hard, so I just walked and then called it an early workout. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">I then started to bloat really bad, and I mean really bad. I constantly had stomach pains, but heres the weird thing... my whole left side would swell up only. hat was also the same side that my nose bleeds and pain was on. i had no feeling on that side of my body and I was still constantly feeling these pains. It was like it was running through the whole left side of my body. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">One day, I was at work (and I was a waitress and bartender) and I started getting izzy spells, but I always worked through it. I always pushed myself because I was living on my own and thought it was just stress still. So after many days of getting really sick and many dizzy spells, I had something pretty traumautic happen. I felt like i was having a stroke or something. All i remember was gettin dizzy, hot, nauseous, and this huge flash of red just covered my eyes. I was freaking out and the rest of the night, I was dizzy and my vision was blurry. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">As soon as my shift ended, my sister picked me up and I said take me to the hospital. She took me in and they said I was okay and to follow up with a doctor after that. So I went to a doctor and they suggested it was just stress. I told him everything I was doing that I normally do, and he said "sometimes you just need the medicine to help push you a little." I was upset. I knew what my body felt like. Who was he to tell me that I was feeling something different and this was all stressed related? </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">So as time went on, my breathing got worse, so did my anxiety, these so called "panick attacks" I kept getting constantly were affecting me all the time, day and night. I was so depressed. I had been to a gastro doctor and he said that my colon was lazy and that i just needed to start working out again. So as that is happening, my state was getting worse. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">I was so scared, I went to the hospital again and my anxiety was out of control at this point. I was constantly scared and my body kept reacting in weird ways. i had quit going out and drinking at this point because i wanted to help my health as much as i can. I was still working and I remember getting these stings where I would loose feeling in my fingers and head and it made me really nervous. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">What the hell is going on? I really cant even explain what was happening. I had gone to the emergency room about 3x at this point. It literally felt like my body was starting to give up on me. I stopped working at this point (it's about august now) I couldnt control my crying. and this was horrible. It almost felt as though i kept losing cirulation throughout my body and everything was only flowing on my left side (hence why I was getting constant nose bleeds and swelling on that side.) </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">So I was at my dads one night crying and scared, and I made him take me in. I was so upset the doctor wouldn't do anything for me. I made the mistake of saying " I don't want to live anymore" and that was the first time I was admitted to the psych unit. I was hopeless and I was so scared. Also had an mri scheduled that I had to reschedule at a later time. They put me on medicine and i was miserable. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">I was still getting sick and my body kept getting the same sensations. no one believed me and didn't take me seriously because I was a "psych" patient. After that it went down hill. Friends stopped talking to me, I literally got really depressed, I had a hard time moving around. Falling asleep scared me. and people just kept treating me as a psych patient. Now my family doesnt believe me and its so hard for me to catch my breath. My nostrils are completely closed off. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">No one believes me. They diagnosed me with somatization disorder and everyone has given up on me. I feel so hopeless now. Every time I go to the hospital or doctor they just tell me I need psychiatric treatment. I am suffering so bad. My gums have swollen up so bad. My sinuses are completely closed off. I can barely breathe through my mouth anymore and everyone thinks I'm crazy. I got super depressed because I'm still in all the pain. This gets worse and worse and no one will take me seriously!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">I'm lost, and I feel like i'm the only one fighting for my life. Everyone thinks this is something where I can snap my fingers and get over it.. <i>but it's not.</i> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">This is the worst feeling to go through. I would never wish it up anyone. The thing I wish people would realize is that when something is physically wrong, it effects other parts of the body. No one believed me for so long I feel like it was just a chain reaction. There's no way I could make these symptoms up nor could these be exaggerated feelings. It's been rough and I'm literally on my last limb, it feels like. It's been a year of this and my body's done.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">-Caryn Marie</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-89027649075607110522015-01-21T22:20:00.002-08:002015-01-21T22:20:34.481-08:00Where's Carly? still heard nothing ...<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">It's been about 6 weeks since Carly Fleischmanns' dad finally posted a brief message explaining why she's been silent for nearly a year. Since then, we've heard nothing, nada, all's quiet. If anyone has heard anything more, or has anything to share on this, please do bring it to my attention.Tbh I'm starting to worry and sorry to sound paranoid, but, what the hell?? </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Personally, before this happe</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">ned, I was worried that Carly would be increasingly seen as a threat by some in power, because even as a budding kid, she demonstrated that Au folk capability to see it and tell it like it is, no BS, eloquently and brilliantly too. I predicted that she'd grow fast, to talk about global issues and reform; big time. I could see the next great like Helen Keller was. Plus, even more dangerous, everybody was "hailing" her so she was in an extraordinary position where many would listen. She had the words of a good aspie minus all the "aaah just a crazy person"/bystander affect/prejudice that weighs us down.<br /><br />She had Autism Speaks f****** just swarming around her like moths to her flame, pouncing on and interfering with her miraculous being, pretending to staunchly support her etc.. and I was thinking "get off her you manipulative gremlins, she needs real Au community" Her well meaning but NT parents were hooped, and ultimately in control of Carly's affairs.<br /><br />In the back of my mind I had this sense of doom that something bad was gonna happen, and then she fell silent. Well, here it is. I hope the hell 2 things, A) that she recovers her ability to speak again, which may only happen IF whatever the hell happened in the first place becomes identified for what it is, and is somehow undone (and Carly could, feasibly, discover and channel it back via her own instincts, it's hard to say and harder to explain) and B) If she does recover (and if autism speaks swoops in with superficial sympathy that'll really piss me off) I hope she is able to speak out and get her boundaries up, and become involved with those who actually do support her growth and her powers.<br /><br />It reminds me of the superficial confidante of a young royal who is secretly contracted to silence/trap/overtake/<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break" style="display: inline-block;"></span>assassinate them in some way. Creepy, suspicious, there's a pit in my stomach over it all @ <a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"tn":"*N","type":104}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/wherescarly" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">#wherescarly</a></span><br />
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-Rose Whitson-Guedes (Girl Outside)Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-34316039093966315252015-01-10T22:17:00.000-08:002015-01-10T22:17:03.658-08:00Carly's voice has been silenced - where is the outrage? - by Tanja Guven<span data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">It has recently been brought to my attention that a non-verbal autistic teen, Carly Fleischmann, 17 years old and unable to speak due to oral-motor apraxia, who learned how to communicate via typing at the age of ten years old, was from April until recently silenced by the actions of her parents, who saw fit to subject her to ECT for OCD, surely while knowing the risks of such a procedure. </span><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$1:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$3:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$4:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Whether Carly’s permission was asked is unclear, but the procedure was done in any case. It is unclear whether Carly consented, and if so, if she consented with full knowledge of what was to be done to her. In many cases, declarative and procedural memory are lost, with devastating consequences. </span><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$5:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$7:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$8:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">In this case, Carly unlearned how to speak, and only recently issued a distress signal somewhere from inside her battered brain, pleading for help and expressing her confusion and pain. Within the timeline on Carly’s Facebook page was a post by her father, in close proximity to Carly, and many comments sending the prayers and good wishes from various readers of the page, with one strikingly absent among them: outrage. </span><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$9:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$11:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$12:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tacit among them was acceptance of what had been done to her as normal, as if it had simply been an act of God, or more precisely, the prudent act of loving parents, despite the fact that it had nearly severed the only links with the outside world that she had ever had. </span><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$13:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$15:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$16:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Whether Carly was lied to, and perhaps told that the treatment would allow her to speak orally, as she wanted, is unknown, as is the possibility of any consent having been obtained at all to undergo such a procedure. In this, the vast gulf of separation between the rights and the medical model of disability becomes horribly apparent. </span><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$17:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$19:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$20:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Autism Speaks demonstrates this perfectly, by exploiting the fears and frustrations of the parents, and eliciting donations that should go to adaptively easing the condition, which claim to go towards a cure, and which actually go towards its own profits, periodically releasing foolhardy and potentially injurious treatments for their children, such as the therapeutic internal use of bleach on the gut, which directly incites violence in a polite fashion, and feeding hatred of their children. </span><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$21:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$23:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$24:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Who can love that which is described as cancer? Who can empathize with or relate to or co-exist with cancer? To attempt to extricate someone from their autism is as productive as trying to remove the stone from an onion, for that is intrinsic to whom they are and always have been. It is a brotherhood and sisterhood of the inside of the skull. </span><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$25:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$27:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$28:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">That this is accepted, and never questioned, is disturbing. It is disturbing that a person with an inner life should be kept caged and systematically battered in a way that makes his or her most personally distressing deficits worse, and that this has not been labeled as wrong or abnormal in itself. </span><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$29:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><br data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$31:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$32:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">It is time that endless attention was turned away from the inherent qualities of a person, and more was turned towards the logistical and legal circumstances which shape that person’s life around them, especially to those creating them, and for whom the conflict of interest is strongest.</span><br />
<span data-reactid=".8j.$mid=11420928405395=2d356cb560d80a40e92.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$32:0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #373e4d; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">-Tanja Guven</span></span>Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-31985438725308756822014-12-06T00:32:00.001-08:002020-02-24T17:49:26.345-08:00Why are females with autism being singled out? Mae Seventh Voice<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #373e4d; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , "tahoma" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wanting to be accepted by ones peers is not a new phenomenon. Nor is the act of presenting one's best self to others in order to win popularity or acceptance. It's an extremely human trait. Everyone does it. We are all taught to do this even as children. Yet despite this fact, there's only one section of the population being singled out and pathologized for applying the exact same "coping mechanisms" that everyone else uses. My question is why? Why don't we say that everyone is 'masking' themselves if that's what presenting one's best self boils down too? I mean really, it is something that everyone does. So why are females with Autism being singled out for presenting their best selves to others when everyone else does the exact same thing, only better most of the time? When someone can tell me why an action that is considered merely an artifact of human nature when it is observed in other people, is considered as 'masking' when observed in Autistic women, then I'll be satisfied, until then, I'll keep asking the same question.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #373e4d; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , "tahoma" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #373e4d; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , "tahoma" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">-Mae Seventh Voice</span>Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-3326528671500531302014-11-19T09:51:00.005-08:002014-11-19T09:51:45.840-08:00Melancholy Princess - by Chrissy Shahankary<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Melancholy Princess</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">I am the melancholy princess</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">my eyes shine because I cry</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">my smile comforts many</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">while I die inside</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">I am the melancholy princess</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">my hair flows like the sea</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">to be me is to be beautiful</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">but so unhappy.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">-Chrissy Shahankary</span>Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7940653965708055152.post-55450703139420360352014-08-03T13:47:00.002-07:002014-11-19T09:52:00.499-08:00Green - by Dallas Volk <span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #3e454c; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">GREEN
If I grew quick and clever
Touching surface too soon
Would I likely get overturned?
It was not my Spring… yet try I did
To bloom from what I’d learned
We foolish flowers
Beyond helpful powers…
Aren’t most of us lost
Premature?
Should I survive
I would live for the Light
As I always have strived
To be sure</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #3e454c; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #3e454c; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">-Dallas Volk </span>Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft aka Dreamer Queen http://www.blogger.com/profile/17057183780090243079noreply@blogger.com0