3 consonants and 3 vowels, which added together, ruin your entire fucking day. let’s forget political correctness for a minute. i fucking hate autism. i hate my son when he is in a full blown melt down. i hate the triggers, his loss of control, my un-fucking-bridled panic. i hate the nausea which churns my stomach raw, as part of the aftermath of dealing with a violent outburst all on my own. fuck. fuckfuckfuck.
i don’t care that he lies as part of the fucking spectrum. that every fucking word out of his mouth is abrasive, abusive, intolerant, inflammatory and violent. i don’t fucking care he has a diagnosis which explains it all away. because the reality is that is how he is acting, that is what i am living with and that is the whole big fucking problem. every fucking day he sits on a very thin edge and you never know which side he is going to fall on.
one side is normal. sane responses to expected situations. smiles. involvement. chiming in, participating as part of a family. ability to be at 80% with small flashes of ‘asshole’, which when corrected, makes him come back to normal. then the other side. the fucking autistic side. the asshole side. the asperger side of fucking hell that i would not wish on anyone. i hate that side. i hate him when he is there. it makes me hate him for weeks afterwards, even though he returns to normal that afternoon, or the next hour, or the next day.
that side shits himself and comes into the kitchen and then gets violent because you demand he clean himself up. it refuses to brush his teeth or change the clothes he’s worn for the 4th day in a row or to throw out the shoes with holes in them that don’t fit. every single action he rebels against, needs a play by play review on what may have set him off, to trigger this side when seconds ago he was fine.
ask him to leave his computer. go ahead. he loses his fucking mind. imagine the worst tantrum you’ve ever seen in a tired 4yr old and then imagine it happening to a 6ft 3, 280lb hairy man. stand back and watch him punch himself in the face, side after side after side for a good 3 minutes so his face is a burning purple as he chants “I lie like you do’ 200 times.
have you ever watched the rage burn and see someones eyes go blank? do you know what that means? it means he is about to become violent and lose himself. if you haven’t seen it, then you don’t understand how scary it is to see a human revert to an animal. a fucking rabid, violent animal who can’t be trusted and who will hurt you if they can. i fucking hate dealing with this. hate it.
when he goes away for 4 months i enjoy every single moment he is not here. i hate having him here. i hate having to know that one day he may lose his mind with someone in public and end up hurting them. it wouldn’t surprise me. that’s what happens when you give rights to everyone and want life to be an inclusive party of acceptance. well guess what? it’s not. the reality is autistic people who get violent are capable of being set off all the time unless they are heavily monitored and why should other people be exposed to that risk of harm?
it’s bad enough being forced to take care of them because they are your family and you feel obligated to because you loved them before they became their diagnosis. because as mush as you want to be the perfect parent, you won’t be. the amount of stress having a violent child who shits themselves as an adult, puts you under., is unimaginable. it’s impossible. it’s unsustainable. and it never ends. if he were ‘normal’ he’d be labelled as a narcissistic, bi-polar sociopath. instead he has the pretty diagnosis of ‘aspergers’.
there comes a point where to love them you have to leave them. you have to just forget about responsibility and give it to someone else or for society to deal with, because they are simply horrible people who can never change or be taught to respond differently because accepting them, means accepting who they are. and who they are is a fucking nightmare. a fucking autistic nightmare of responsibility and anger and triggers and every single thing bad you’ve ever gone through, all rolled up into one wonderful little package, labeled as ‘autistic’.