I Was A Low Verbal Autistic Kid That Used Plushies To Communicate With People, And Boy Howdy Did Teachers/adults

Autistic school trauma is:

knowing you’re disliked, but not being able to know why

consistently being called out for your stims because they’re “disruptive” or “annoying”

trying to simply mesh in with others to avoid getting targeted

suppressing your anger to the point that you feel it’s not justified

never being able to form connections no matter how hard you try, and thinking it’s your fault

being able to form connections but never being able to be true to yourself or set boundaries since you’re so used to being disrespected

witnessing ableism from classmates but not doing anything about it because they’ll just invalidate you

never feeling like your opinions can be validated because you’re “weird”

being outcasted by your classmates constantly

having classmates either let you know outright or subtly that you’re disliked

eventually believing that you deserve to be disliked

suffering from chronic low self esteem that affects your grades, your ability to function, and even your ideas of love

frequently getting into toxic/codependent friendships

having teachers criticize you constantly for your symptoms

living from a complex of never being good enough

feeling like you have to reach a neurotypical standard on a daily basis and if you don’t, you’re incompetent

if you’re feeling any of these things because of school, autistic or not, know that what you are experiencing is trauma, and that your trauma is valid. You don’t deserve to be in a school environment where you are consistently criticized or made to feel like you don’t belong nor can’t be good enough. You deserve an environment that makes you feel safe enough to be neurodivergent, to be yourself. You deserve to feel loved, to feel cared for, exactly as you are, with no strings attached.

me: i need that copic 72 set

me: i want those winsor and newton watercolours omg

me: holy shit if i don't get those brushes i will-

mind: bitch you draw like shit who are you kidding

To dream of souls in flowers, to dream of gentle smiles.

- Juan Ramón Jiménez

Things I have learned by joining the local Methodist Church’s coffee & knitting circle (where I am the only person under 60 years old):

How to double knit very, very quickly

Mrs. Jonson on the third pew won’t mind her own business, bless her heart. And she buys her pies pre-made for all the church functions.

Ways that women cheated the system in 1950s Texas to get into college and start careers. Including a memorable “He told me I wouldn’t last a week, but then 6 years later, I had to let him go because his production was way down.” *drinks sip of coffee*

We Might Be Conservative But Gosh Darn That Trump Bless His Heart He Doesn’t Know Anything About God Or Texas

And On That Note, God And Texas Are The Only Good Things Left In The World. Erin Write That Down.

How to rescue a dropped stitch and make it look like it never happened

Public schools and inclusive, desegregated education will single-handedly save the world

Sharing recipes is a sacred bonding and community-building tradition that rivals the greatest political negotiations and land deals in history

“It’s better that you prefer girls honey, the Boyfriend Curse doesn’t apply to your girlfriend and a lovin’ god’ll keep on a-lovin. You better make that girl a sweater.’” 

(Boyfriend Curse = knit a sweater for a boy and he’ll leave you when you finish it)

Mrs. Barbara’s husband cheated in ‘76, resulting in a divorce. She thought it was the end of the world because her youth had already passed, but now she’s an engineer and married to a kind, good man who she met when she went back to college in ‘79.

“The only things you can trust in are God, your good sense, and the wisdom of those older women you grew up admiring. The rest is crap.”

I want a mommy too

I thought becoming a mother would heal me

Although my son’s tender cuddles do warm me

It does not console my inner lonely child

I thought having a good mother in law could do

Although her support and strength inspire me

Her presence isn’t soothing to my brokenness

I’ve tried to fill this void in many ways

Yet I find myself having to accept the absence

Of a mother who is unconditionally there

A mother who knows me because she is me

A mother who loves me because I am hers

A mother who doesn’t judge and just shows up

A mother who feeds me without me asking

I’ve met many wonderful mothers who love me

They say they feel motherly towards me

They say they see me as another daughter

But I can feel the distance

And it’s not because they don’t love me

And it’s not because they don’t mean their words

It’s only because no one can love you like yours

I tried so many times to get mine to love me

Despite her illness and despite her toxicity

But she has no love to give

She has no capacity to take any responsibility

She can’t fill the void for she is a void herself

She has no warmth even for herself

She only takes from others

She forced me to not only be motherless

But to give her motherly love

And I wonder

If I’ve lived other lives

Did I have good mothers?

Because this lonely feeling has always felt familiar

As a little girl, it felt fitting to be alone

The abuse and neglect didn’t feel so shocking

And oh the despair, to feel fated to this

To feel like there’s no place to flee this

This desperate feeling

This dreadful feeling

This deafening feeling

That this kind of love I yearn for just isn’t for me

-PF

I feel like half my body needs to be soaked in ice while the other half covered in heating pads…just the issues of chronic pain ⋋_⋌

When your friend recommends a show to you but you’re on the spectrum

Friend: You should watch (show or movie that has nothing at all to do with your special interest)!

Me, knowing full well that I won’t: Haha, I’ll check it out!