ART BY TIM BARRUS Smash Street
I did the testing. Why. Because I am sick and tired of being asked: “Did you take the test. What was it like. And who did the testing.” Since when am I compelled to explain what being autistic is like. It’s different for everyone. It is hard not to use the word, autism. We are not autism. It’s a sliding scale. Aspergers is very complex. A savant can have serious barriers to reading any room. Desperate parents do desperate parenting. If the whole thing is the fault of a vaccine, it helps ease the guilt. An autistic savant might be able to construct an algorithm, but if they are unable to use a public bathroom, all bets are off. Savants are so rare, they cease to exist. I count cards in any casino. I have never lost at Blackjack. But that does not get me a job as a wedding planner.
The first rule of communication is Do Not Speak. Speaking comes with consequences like being told you are stupid. It follows you for life. Parents demand a diagnosis. As if it’s a pill. Be careful of what you wish for. I never tell people to buy a book that explains. Never explain. Anyone who is autistic would probably throw such a book across the room at the wall. We are not a disease. We are not a problem to be solved. We are not an emergency. We are not a road map. We are not a focus group. We are people who see things that are different from the ways the normals see (usually in black and white) what they are told to see. I regret taking the test. We are the greatest maskers who ever lived.