Is it silly for me to be so fascinated by a speed radar trailer that i have to take drives to see it at least three times a week, that i have to post picture after picture of it, and that i get so excited to sit in front of it and see how it displays each person’s speed in real time, and how it flashes when people go over the speed limit?
Or am i okay?
I have even made an imaginary friend out of this speed trailer and have been a state of real deep mourning ever since they came and took it off of my street on April 26th. It had been here on my street for a month, and it helped!!
I have actually been bombarding both the police commander and my beat officer with numerous emails begging them to put it back on my street, ever since they came and took it away.
Not only did it calm the traffic….and my meltdowns down, its presence was a real comfort to me.
It is my honest opinion that police departments need to be understanding towards Autistic people. My hugest dream is to see this world be a much more inclusive, friendly and accomodating place for us. That is my mission in life.
It is hard, if not impossible, for an Autistic person to adjust and adapt to an NT world that thinks in black and white and everyone being able to fit into neat little circles when some of us are square and triangular and diamond-shaped .
Because life has grey areas, i am sorry, but it does. And many of us who are neurodivergent are diamond, square, rectangular, triangular, hexagonal, and so on, shaped.
There is nothing wrong with that, or us.
I was created by God and put on this earth by Him/Her/Them as an Autistic for a reason, plus given the gift of writing, so i could educate and open people’s eyes, minds and hearts….that we who are Autistic, are not faulty broken appliances, or behavior problems to be solved, cured, and fixed….we are Disabled and unique human beings with a neurology that has to be considered, accepted, and embraced.
Because God makes no mistakes.
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Hi K and J,
I want to clarify and explain few things about me, please.
Firstly, i apologize for the way the above email was phrased…..i was in a full-on sensory overload/ meltdown mode when i wrote that, because the car club was right next door to me at the time, “seranading” me with their loud thunder bass.
Secondly, i want to thank you both for getting me another speed trailer. I do appreciate that you got it here for me, and got the big one that didn’t work, removed. I was mainly so upset to see that this one is still currently not working either. Even so, i am still grateful it is here. Last night, my mother called Dispatch to report that it is not working, so i am confident that someone will come to activate it today. She also called about the bass at the car club. L has been very nice to her.
If i am unable to get the Wanco, and have to have this speed trailer for awhile till i can get the Wanco one back, i am honestly okay with that, as long as i can go “visit” the Wancos where they’re at now;
as long as someone comes and activates the trailer i have now so it will work to slow drivers down,
and as long as i know i will get the Wanco one back again soon.
I do not mean to come off as rude, demanding, or pesty, please know that. My circumstances are awfully unbearable, as i am now housebound due to my legs. I am unable to drive right now, or get out and even walk like i would love to be able to do because of my legs. I rely on what my caregiver is able to do for me, and i am greatly limited now, an Autistic adult, with deteriorating physical health, scared, lonely, alone, so yes, that is why i latch onto things like the Wanco trailer—–and why i made it my friend.
Please imagine what it would be like being neurologically wired Autistic and being housebound, losing all of the freedoms and independence you once had, and being forced to listen, day in and day out, to the types of loud noises that are actual painful sensory issues to you….would you not probably try to retreat into a safe place in your head to cope, too? That is exactly what i did with the Wanco trailer. It became an instrument of comfort to me, my friend who i could “talk” to.
Melissa Fields, Autist 