Disability without a family 

I see this thing a lot that says autism doesn’t come with instructions it comes with a family that doesn’t give up. But what nobody talks about is that there are children with autism that don’t has loving supportive understanding families. There are those like me who grew up abused and or homeless. Where you don’t get food much less treatment. Where you may not go to school. And when you do all they can see is behaviors. And then eventually you get put in a residential or psychiatric hospital or both or other institutions. And they may send you back to the abuse after they discharge you or maybe you’ll be sent to a foster home or a group home and may be abused again by strangers who just want the money for having you. People who know the basics of my story are surprised I’m alive. Actually pretty much every cop and doctor type person who has ever seen me is surprised. I don’t know how me survive me just do. Just lucky maybe. Weeks without food doesn’t kill me. I’ve walked into traffic, into water and had to be rescued from drowning. When me was 16 I’m was less than 100lbs with almost no understanding of language at all. I’m was in a residential that now is closed because kids has died and been raped there. In strange ways my autism has saved me. It kept me safe in my world not really understanding everything happening. It had me focused on all the beautiful things like pretty trees and stars. My behaviors and meltdowns from overstimulation kept me safe sometimes. And because of my sensory differences me was always in quiet dark places away from people which kept me safe lots of times. There was good people at the residential. A lady who helped try to communicate with me. A guy who let me do whatever I needed as long as it didn’t hurt anyone.   After the residential I’m was homeless again. Random people came into my life. Some helped me and made sure me ate and had clothes, others hurt me and did bad things, many did both. Eventually me met my old caregiver. Was he perfect? No. But he did more good than bad. He work with me for years on communication and self care. He learned of my seizures and had me see doctors and stuff. He got me important things like ssi and food stamps and eventually housing. 

 And then he was gone. And there was no one. It’s been a little over 2 years that me hasn’t had a full time caregiver. And that me has been type this blog thingy. And in that 2 years Me has learned how much Me needed him. And with the MS I’ve needed him more than ever. We didn’t know when he left that me had it, but me did. Not even the doctors had put my symptoms together even as he was teaching me how to say something hurt. Everything got blamed on autism. Even my cerebral palsy. Well now me know it was wrong. But here me am alone. My interest keeps me happy most the time. Mostly me am like a little kid with my Disney movies and toys. I stim the best me can, me has meltdowns and shutdowns here alone. But me do things. Sometimes me eats or takes bath. The other day me spend 3 hours getting dressed by myself and went to build a bear. But it’s hard both the mental and physical parts from understanding me needs to eat to thinking all the steps to getting my body listening to holding stuff (me do has tools to help hold stuff). Even open the fridge is more hard than thinks. 

   Most people you see that has such physical disability has family and friends that help. They live with people. The same for people with neurological differences like mine. But not me. Here me am in this apartment doing things and not doing things. Nobody to help me but nobody to judge me or hurt me or make things worse by trigger my ptsd or messing up my sensory needs. Some days when me thinks on it me am proud of me for surviving and doing things. Other days Me has all the feelings and wonders why I don’t have a family to help me. Most days I’m to much autistic to think of anything that isn’t related to my interest or routines or sensory things; or to anxiety thinks of what to do and how to do it. My autism is a neurological difference, a important part of me am. It’s what makes me Me, happy and creative and determined and always seeing the best. Even my cp is more of a difference because I’ve always had it. My MS is a disability it takes things away from me and makes me not able do things me love. 

Anyway the point is not everyone who has autism or other disabilities no matter how severe is lucky and has a loving understanding supporting family. Some of us are or was homeless and or abused and are just surviving. And that we are surviving because of our differences and disabilities just as much as in spite of them. Being different doesn’t mean you get a good family. Honestly because of how hard it can be taking care of us with the most and most severe disabilities we’re prolly more likely to be hurt by those who should love and care for us, like all these sad stories of kids killed by they parents. My mamá try to kill me and me am glad it not worked. Mine life isn’t easy but there is love and happiness not just pain and nobody should take that away from me or anyone else no matter how different we are. Even when we can’t talk and may always be stimming and running and other stuff and even when we can’t barely move our own bodies. 

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