Tag Archives: Autism & Being Muzzled

Please Stop & Listen To Me–I Need More Allies & Friends

I have spent the past several hours sleeping, and plan to sleep more.
I sleep all the time because i am not happy anymore.
I need the police to be real allies to me.
I need for them to stop ignoring me.
I need to have the speed trailer back on my street.
I need for my legs to work again, for this awful leg tumor to be gone.
I need for my next door neighbors to hurry up and move, because of the tension they still cause for me.
I need in real life local friends who will be willing to take me places so i can get out of this box once in a while.
I need for my family to wake up and start caring and understanding and accepting me as i am.
I need them to learn about my Autism and understand it once and for all.
I am tired on all levels.
It is a deep tired of all of my lifetime goals being lost to me.
A deep tired of not having things to look forward to and hope for anymore.
I dread each day because of the street noise and the next door neighbors.
This needs to change.
It isn’t just me, it is many elderly and disabled people who are in this same or similar boat.
Society throws us away and ignores us because we are too inconvenient to them.
We need for you to all care, to get in the cubby hole under the stairs and sit there with us, when we go in there, instead of yelling at us to get out of there.
What harm would it do to let me play with your shiny hair, big sister?
What harm would it do to listen to the story i have told, to see why i told it, to understand why i told my story—-which is because you all have essentially left me to live alone and lonely my whole life, always on the outside, always on the fringes.
I was always the last one to know things.
Please don’t tell your Autistic/Disabled children/kids/relatives
that they will never date
never drive
never have a job
never have friends or romantic relationships
or that they don’t know what’s going on or how to think for themselves
that is Othering and making us feel like we are wrong, less than and don’t belong when we DO belong.
Remember this:
Children are developing human beings, and even though we may develop at a different pace, does not mean we won’t be able to do all the above things.
We are still human beings, capable of great success, all our families have to do is BELIEVE in us and not ignore and discard us to sit alone in our rooms.
Many a time i would sit alone in my room and cry wondering why you all hated me?
God made us, and God did not make and does not make mistakes, so why do you so easily discard us?
Think about it….please listen to me because my health is now failing and i honestly do not know whether i will be around that much longer because of my health issues.
Yes, i needed to write this.
Yes, everyone needs to read this and take this to heart.
I do not want to be alone anymore. It hurts like hell to be alone.
This is why i have turned to certain roads, highways and electronics and made them imaginary friends.
This is why i made a friend out of the speed trailer when it was here.
Exactly why.
I hope and pray i get that back within the next two weeks, maybe even this week.
Yes, because it’s my friend and i feel it protects me when it is here.
I loved to sit outside and watch it working, so i hope it goes back on my side of the street again where i can easily watch it working again.
But it also makes people drive the speed limit, even slower, and lessens the loudness of the noise, and it also takes care of the loud hot rodding too.
Please, God, let this week be the start of life getting better for me again.
Thank you.

My Go Fund Me:  https://www.gofundme.com/2ckkdc4

103

Advertisements

Alone, & So Lonely I May As Well Live In An 8ft by 10ft Jail Cell

103

I, Melissa Fields, an Autistic adult—-yes, we exist, and yes, there are lots and lots and LOTS of us out there if people would just take the time to see, hear, look, listen to us and treat and respect us as the human beings we are—- had to stop driving in April of 2012 for three reasons——-

because i was becoming too afraid of going places—-anywhere—- by myself, because of all of the meltdowns i was having in public whenever i was faced with ableism from people—people who did not get my Autism and sensory issues, who would get angry with me and escalate an often ugly scene with me instead of understanding and learning why i was upset, and why i was asking for certain accomodations—–

because i had just gone through the very ugly and deeply traumatic break up of a friendship with a person who had become like a family member to me, who suddenly turned against me with full on inexplicable fury that year——

and because by that time, i had already developed a huge leg tumor the size of a basketball on my left inside thigh area, which made it hard to get in and out of the driver’s side of ANY vehicle. I began to develop lymphedema in both legs in 2005, due to having to spend years of not being able to sleep anymore in my bed but instead, sleeping sitting up on my already delapitated living room sofa with my legs and feet down.

My life since then has plummeted into a spiral of failing health and isolation and loneliness. All of the bullying i had taken by that time from neighbors all around me where i live, was starting to erode my physical health and strength. Today, i am a hot mess of heart palpitations, anxiety, PTSD, and insomnia, along with my leg issues.

Today, after going through a string of several abusive caregivers, i finally have Connie as a caregiver—and she is a friend and ally to me. She has been my caregiver for almost 3 years now. It was due to her,—-on her days off,—-and a kind beat coordinator officer at my city’s local police department, that i finally got some resolve to many of my issues. Most of the bullying has now stopped, except for when one neighbor who knows my situation and who knows how to best upset me, goes to talk to them and stir them all back up against me again. Those neighbors today are still a bad problem. The street noise is still a huge sensory issue that causes me daily meltdowns. Because people drive my street like it is a raceway/highway—and it is loud. I am “blessed” with tin buildings all around, which further amplifies this noise. Cars with thunder bass systems are the topping on this nice hellish cake.

But now i am at the point where i feel nothing but depression and despair anymore. I am 56 years old and life has literally passed me by. I have never known the joy of having long lasting close warm friendships, nor been able to experience a romantic relationship. I love people, and i am a people person, but i now have a great fear—–i always have—but today it is even greater—of being abandoned—-of having people turn on me and be mean to me—-so i hide——then i latch onto certain things like certain roads, highways, and electronics—- and make them my friends. I sometimes latch onto these things with my all. Because the loneliness hurts that much sometimes.

I am too young to feel like this. I am too young to die. But i feel as if i am living on a sort of death row, because each and every day is the same damn thing, over and over again till i want to scream. I wake up, do the same things every day, and then repeat the next day over and over. I only feel happiness when Connie is here. But iam now way too afraid to venture out and do anything alone—-for fear of being misunderstood, and for fear of people getting angry and saying mean things because they don’t understand and don’t want to understand. For fear of being rejected, shunned, ignored.

I was denied lymphedema care by a home health agency yet again because the physical therapist who came to see me, deemed my Autism as not real. I had a meltdown and screamed at him to leave my house. So i continue to suffer without treatments for my legs.

I don’t know where i’m going with this blog. But i am writing it because i want to educate people to let you all know what it is like when one is left to fall through the cracks and fail, because they got thrown away time and again. Imagine your own family shunning you because you’re Autistic and they don’t get that this is not a behavioral problem, but a disability, a very real disability.

Imagine your family putting tape after tape into your head that tells you you will never have a job, you will never learn how to drive, you will never have friends, you will never have a boyfriend,——that you are less-than, because you are disabled.
That’s been my life all the way.
I also write this because i need help–and i know that help is out there for us—i just live in the wrong geographical area, ya know?
That is why i turned to the speed trailer for comfort. I was happy when it was here. Yes, it calmed the traffic way down. But i also loved sitting outside to watch it working. The way the numbers would come up, and then down, the way the fonts look that the manufacturers of this speed trailer use, the way it lights up with a bright red “SLOW DOWN” sign if people drive too fast past it—and if they drive any faster, a strip of blue and red light bars flash on it—-began to really fascinate me.
Now i don’t have the speed trailer, and now my depression is even deeper, and i have had to go back on pain medication because my right leg is now in excruciating pain all of the time.
I did make a Go Fund Me page, But i am not getting many donations.
Like i say, i don’t know where i am going with this—-just to let you know that life does not have to be this way for us. And to plead with people to please stop ignoring us. Listen to us. Accept us. Love us. We are human beings, and God didn’t make us Autistic so you could throw us away.
For anyone interested, here is my Go Fund Me page.

You Took My Best Friend Away

I will tell you exactly how i am doing ever since the police took the speed radar trailer……
I am an Autistic person whose brain is wired differently
Changes can be often very traumatic for me
Ever since the police took the speed radar trailer away from me
i can barely sleep.
i have to take two Ativans instead of one to get through my days
I feel sick all of the time
i feel like i have butterflies of dread in my stomach all the time
i dread having to wake up each day
my street is right back to wild fast and loud again
i feel as though they took my best friend away
when they took the speed radar trailer away
for it became someone who i “talked” to, someone who understood me
someone who was just like a real Guardian Angel
that kept the street and me calm
that even kept the bullies from tormenting me
i was even going outside to watch it working everyday
i was actually warming up to some of the people i would meet each day
while sitting outside watching the sign
ever since they took the speed trailer
i have felt even more housebound and boxed in again
i have gone back to not feeling safe here again
i feel very vulnerable and scared again
i cry alot
i feel a deep ache and an emptiness in me
this is what happens when you take something away that an Autistic person was actually attached to
there is nothing wrong with me, this is how many Autistics cope with the harsh world outside that still to this day does not get or understand or accept us as we are
i liken the taking of this sign to a cruel father coming into his little girl’s own bedroom
right when it is at his little girl’s bedtime,
and taking her treasured teddy bear that she sleeps with for comfort safety and friendship and yanking it cruelly away, then expecting that little girl to go to sleep quietly
just as normal, without even one little whimper, when all that little girl wants to do is cry and sob brokenheartedly
Because Daddy took her treasured teddy bear
who was her one true friend on earth
I am lonely and have very few in real life friends
all of my good friends are on Facebook, but live in other states and other parts of the world
my family has always shunned and ignored me—-not my mom.—–but all the rest of them have always shunned me, and they stilldo to this day
so as a little girl
i learned to develop a safe world of my own—-my own cocoon— where i go where i have imaginary friends
that i made out of certain
roads
highways
electronics
i did this then, i still do this now, because of so many things
and yes, this included the two speed radar trailers that were placed on my street this year
and the second one i became even more attached to than i did the first one, because of how the number fonts looked on it
how the numbers would go up and down in real time
i loved its bright red SLOW DOWN sign
i loved the way it looked like a petite cute sign trailer
i made “her” my friend again
when they took her, they took my main source of daily happiness and joy away
i have once again lost my ability and freedom to feel i can go outside
i lost her protection
i have been a real mess without that speed radar trailer
sick and cannot sleep or eat much.
yesterday i even imagined myself as i got up from my computer, just walking away out of my body and walking away from all of this,
ifelt i could actually do this and walk to where i would once again feel safe
yes, i almost had an out of body experience yesterday
this is exactly how deeply and profoundly it is affecting my whole being having that speed radar trailer gone
i really want and need that sign to come back
if not, i need to get my own, please.
Please help me to get that so i can be at peace again.

https://www.gofundme.com/2ckkdc4

049

Still Scared, Very Scared

I honestly do not know how much more of this i can take.

I am okay as long as the speed radar trailer is here on my street. But my police dept. has failed in letting me know who my new beat coordinator is. I finally Googled it, and found out that way who he is. My last beat coordinator was supposed to let me know AND he was supposed to introduce him to me. He never did either.

They don’t let me know whether i can have a working speed trailer here on a regular basis for the sake of my health, because without it, the street is so wild i have meltdowns which leave me physically ill—i need to know.

The speed trailer is still here, and i am very grateful it is here….but all i get from the police is silence and he not knowing when or if it will get taken away from me again. The stress of not knowing is getting to me.

I am not posting this to badmouth anyone, but yes, i am upset that police depts. do not do a much better job than this so that REAL bridges are built between them and us….ALL of us, and that includes Disabled people, shut-ins, Black and Brown people, rich, poor, homeless, elderly, etc.

REAL community policing means actual OPEN LINES OF COMMUNICATION between police and us, not this never ending silence, and no answers to my phone calls and emails——and me left hanging as to what’s going to happen next.

I DREAD the day they take this speed trailer away from my street. I SO dread that day. I would hope they would place another working one here, and also place that one on my side of the street where i can see it working.

I also need to get out of this house more often than i do. I used to love going out to eat, going to the movies, going to church, and going to the ocean. I do not get to do any of that anymore, except eat out maybe once a month if i’m lucky, and this gets to me greatly too….because i get so lonely to be able to be around people and involved in my community.

Below is another picture of the RU2 Fast 870 speed radar trailer that is still on my street, but for how much longer, i don’t know.

039

Today Was One Of The Worst Days For Me

The following is taken from an eariler post that i posted on my wall today, plus some things a new friend and ally who i am growing to really love, as she really gets what i am going through, wrote to me today, articulating and validating my feelings my feelings.

I have been a wreck since the police came and took the Wanco speed trailer off of my street, as many of you know. The police are now totally ignoring my emails and phone calls that i make to them pleading for their mercy and continued help, and to have the Wanco radar trailer placed back on my street.

I am now in the process of creating a GoFundMe with both short term and long term goals—-and am creating it with the hopes that the end result will be my getting moved to a quiet location where i can finally have my peace and my sense of safety and sanctuary back.

My post……with explanations added for clarity…..

Weds., June 1, 2016 at 8:18 PM

“I have been having the evening from hell so far. It is just now calming down.

The street has been loud and fast freeway style driving in a 25 MPH zone all day today and this evening. I have had multiple meltdowns over just that alone.

(And even more meltdowns over my next door neighbor’s inconsiderate daughter’s actions, and the car club.)

The car club is here now too. They announced their presence with their loud God-awful vibrating thunder bass….that brought about more meltdowns.

Then my neighbor’s daughter decided to start her truck up and sit in it, letting it idle so long that my house was filled with the exhaust fumes, and making me cough. More meltdowns.

(The loud bass, followed by the neighbor’s daughter’s toxic truck fumes, made me really scream in agony!!)

The speed radar trailer they put here 7 days ago, has never been turned on, and still has not been turned on as of now. I have gone downhill mentally and physically ever since the police’s traffic sergeant ordered the Wanco yanked from my street on April 26th. I feel it not only calmed the traffic down, but it became a friend to me in that i actually for the first time, felt safe enough to start venturing out of my house to sit in a chair on my front lawn to watch it flash and blink. it gave me a sense of comfort that no NT can understand.

Now the cops are totally ignoring me. And i am continuing to suffer each day. I have gone back to dreading having to wake up from sleeping……this can’t go on. I can’t go on like this. I want out of this whole town because i do not feel like i am welcome here.

I am in sheer agony still tonight. I badly need a way OUT!!!!!!!!”

My friend’s messages to me:

“Hey Melissa! First– I want to say, we *need* to get you out of there. I’m willing to help you get a GoFundMe going and have you okay whatever is said in the description before it goes up. I think we need to think in terms of your short-term survival, and long-term. In the short term, we should raise funds to get speed bumps put in place. If anyone speeds through your neighborhood at that point, they do so at their own peril. They will be in for a nasty shock, and if they know what’s good for them, they’ll quit speeding ASAP.

Then– we need to get you a housing/moving/basic care fund going. You and I can discuss where, if anywhere, you’d feel more comfortable moving away to.”

To which i replied that i felt the Wanco speed trailer would be much better than speed bumps, because it has a giant electronic sign with big bright bold amber colored fonts, and that i needed the Wanco back on my street, both for my peace of mind and to calm down the traffic, because it worked really well when it was here!!

She wrote back:

“I think you and I both know this current speeding/neighbor/living situation is destroying your physical and mental well being.

And you’ve endured all of that for far too long.

It is not humane for you to have to live in these conditions.”

She also wrote:

“We could try to raise money to have two permanent Wanco speed trailers on your street. (One on each side) I don’t think that’s too much to ask. All the cops have to do is set (them) up, acknowledge it’s your private property, and leave them be”

She went onto say this, and this is the God’s honest truth:

“I just want to say– the empath in me hurts for you intensely. I see you posting so much about how much you’re suffering, every day, multiple times a day, because of the horrible speeding issues on your street……I relate a great deal to how you’re trying to cope with a (screwed) up world. You do (what other Autistics with PTSD and who have been bullied so much) often do– fixate on something. In your case, it’s the Wanco speed radar. Your logic makes a lot of sense on that, actually. You had that speed trailer there, and finally felt you had some control in your life over a daily, painful issue– speeders with their loud, obnoxious hot rods.

And (when you had the Wanco speed trailer there) you felt safe enough after years of isolation to go out your front door– and breathe actual fresh air. And I’d call anything/anyone who gave me that much peace of mind a friend, too.

You also have your a****** neighbors who f****** traumatized you to the point you were terrified to leave your house alone. That’s completely f****** unfair to you– and horrendously abusive of them.

So, there’s all these elements at play, all different flavors of anxiety and depression. And your physical and mental well being are the price for your a-hole neighbors and inconsiderate drivers.

If I were in your shoes? I’d want to flee. Get out. But you don’t have the financial privilege to flee. So that’s where the GoFundMe comes in. We’re bailing you out. You’ve endured that bullshit way too long.”

She also said:

“And I also think you and I know exactly what the police department is thinking with all of this. They’re thinking with their NT brains, and also thinking about all the other police work they have to do. They’re like “maybe she’ll stop calling if we just leave this speed trailer here.” They got exactly half of that equation right– maybe less. They gave you a speed trailer– but didn’t turn it on.

That’s why (having the Wanco there, and turned ON, working properly) made you feel calm. Because people drive by, see how fast they’re driving, and slow down.”

(My words…how can they obey a speed radar trailer that is just a blank black screen, that is not turned on?)

Back to my friend’s words:

“And of course, one part of the equation they’ve majorly (screwed) up is in being empathetic to your issues.

Because, they’re ignoring you.

And that’s not easing your mind.”

No, it is not easing my mind. It is making me feel all alone and isolated again, and like i am being forced to endure more suffering because the police somehow feel i “choose” to live in this cess pool.
Little do they know that being i have been on Section 8 and Social security all of my adult life unable to work to become self-supporting, to be able to realize ever, my lifelong dreams and goals, that i have been stuck having to live here due to no way out….and when is this hell and torment ever going to end for me? 

I can only hope that someone with legal expertise can see my plight…..and that the police are denying me their services, because they seem to think i am just a nuisance…..and help me to get the help i need, then i can get the money to finally be able to move out of here.

My April 2016 Appeal

For those of you who don’t know me, i am an Autistic and physically Disabled housebound 55 year old adult who is literally dying of loneliness and severe cabin fever. I will be 56 in May, and i still have at least ten more years ahead of me.

I have friends online, on Facebook, but no in real life local friends. My family all moved out of state far away—to Idaho, and one sister in Arizona— when i was still doing well, so i now have nobody, except for my caregiver. When she comes, she comes six days a week, in the afternoons and early evenings. When she is here, i am fine, but when she is not, i go through agony, and find myself sleeping to pass the time, because i can’t just get out and go places like i want anymore—like i used to be able to do. I can’t even take walks anymore. Because i now have very limited mobility—and because of the bullies in my neighborhood who may taunt me if they see me outside of my house.

I never got married, never had children, so when my caregiver isn’t here, all i can do, aside from sleeping to kill he time, is go onto Facebook to talk to my online friends, and post about Autistic and Disability issues and politics mainly— and pick up the phone and call my mom and talk to her. I do have a few shows i like to watch on TV, plus i also watch YouTube. But i so long to have local in real life friends who would come visit me and take me to the nearby ocean, which i still love. Or to the movies. Or out to eat.

Why don’t i just move to where my mom lives? I don’t have the money to do so, and neither does anyone in my family. In fact, the rest of my siblings, their spouses, and my nieces and nephews all ignore and shun me. They have absolutely nothing to do with me.

In 1987, i was finally able to move away from my parents to a small cottage in the back of another house, where i had wonderful elderly neighbors who helped bring me out of the shell i was in. In 1990, i learned how to drive, secured my driver’s license, and an older car. I became determined to try to get myself off of government aid, so i spent the next decade—all of the ’90’s—-appealing to agency after agency—and soon gave that up, because i had no luck. Because i was always deemed ineligible for services.

In May of 1991, i had to move from that nice place, to one of my sister’s rentals, and that was when things began a downhill slide that has only gotten worse. The reason i am still alive today, is due to my so far, strong faith, my will to go on, and being able to develop creative unique ways to cope as a small child…..i still use those unique coping mechanisms today.

Now, two and a half decades, after enduring lots of neighborhood bullying—-more on that later—-several friendships ending with those friends turning against me, plus, several traumatic caregiver experiences, i have once again stopped driving and gone back into a shell. I am once again afraid to go anywhere by myself—petrified, in fact, and must have my caregiver accompany me everywhere i go outside of this house now. I now have severe noise sensitivity issues, and severe abandonment and trust and PTSD issues. I have several meltdowns a day now due to various things.

I am still a human being, with feelings, and a heart, and i am suffering—not because i’m Autistic, but because most people still don’t get—or seem to want to get Autism. Also because of the noisy neighborhood i have been trapped having to live in for the past 24 years, and because of my steadily worsening physical health. My mobility is now quite limited due to a circulatory condition (Lymphedema) that developed on my legs. I can still walk short distances, but only with the aid of a cane and walker. I badly need a mobility scooter. I also badly need to have my bathroom retrofitted with a large walk-in shower that i can get in and out of easily, because the current standard tub shower is next to impossible for me to get in and out of, most days.

Unfortunately, the reason why the neighborhood i have been living in for the past two plus decades has been bad for me, is that—-on top of the noise, has been that most of my neighbors early on, all assumed i was a “crazy lady”. Why?

My problems began with two mean girls next door to me, just 11 months after i moved here,who both turned against me and began to taunt and torment me–and then, because i live in a mixed residential/light industrial zone, several other neighbors in a restaurant supply business, a food bank, and two auto shops, all began to notice me and bully me too——because the mean girls’ behavior resulted in me having loud meltdowns where i would scream in sheer terror at their loud deliberate taunting and loud music being blared right into my house.

After that, it was like i was reliving my entire painful childhood all over again, where i was afraid of all kinds of loud noises—and i once again became afraid of certain loud noises.

Today, even though a police officer has now been able to help to calm many of my problems down, my PTSD prevents me from overcoming the noise sensitivity, plus i am now so battle-fatigued by all of the bullying and tauntings i have endured from the mean girls, then the other business employees, that i now feel like i am half-dead all the time. I am tired all the time. I sleep in two shifts, for three hours after my caregiver leaves in the evenings—-and then for another five hours in the mornings till about 1:30 PM. Ironically i use the loud volume of my own TV and my own music—-to cover the outside neighborhood noises—-because i am able to handle noises that i see as “friendly” noises—-if that makes sense. And i consider my TV and music to be “friendly” noise.

Therapy has never helped because most mental health professionals want to dope me up, and then play what i find to be twisted weird and very ableistic head games with me—-they want to fix and cure me like NOW.

PTSD is a thing that cannot easily be cured. it can be treated, but not cured. And Autism—-definitely cannot be cured. And people should stop trying to cure the Autism out of us.

The reason i’m writing this is that i need help with several things, for the sake of what is left of my health and sanity.

One, i need to move from this neighborhood to a small house that is in a nice quiet neighborhood where i will have nice neighbors, and they won’t be right upstairs, downstairs, or right next to me. And no, i don’t want to move to Idaho or Arizona, because it is too hot in both places, and i am very sensitive to weather that is too hot. Plus—living with my mom is also out—-i am a very hard person to live with, because i have my weird sleep schedule and i have a lot of quirks and routines.

Two, i need a mobility scooter that my caregiver can easily handle, and a place with ramps, and disabled accessible bathroom.

Three, i really long to have local friends who get and accept Autistic adults the way we are, who will be like a second family to me—-who will take me places and come visit me, and maybe i could even go to church with them, so long as it’s a liberal church—-because i am a progressive liberal, and i am pro-LGBTQIA.

And four, i need a good doctor who won’t body shame me, but who will help me to get the leg surgery i also badly need to remove a large leg tumor that is the size of a basketball that is on my left leg.

I really feel if i had these things, my happy will come back. I so wish i had some real help in these areas. Please.

My Latest Medical Nightmare

The following is what happened to me yesterday, and is another perfect example of how not to treat an Autistic person. Ever. Ever. Ever.

Because we process, smell, experience, feel, touch, taste, see, and hear everything differently than you do. Because when you fail to respect and listen, it will cause us to meltdown and shut down and not be able to talk or deal with you.

In my case, today, i almost lost vital services that i need because of the physical therapist they sent to me. Because he was harsh, blunt, and unfriendly. And he would not listen to me.

Here is my earlier post from yesterday. And why i am now scared to be alone when dealing anymore without my caregiver or someone who understand and can come in and advocate when i lose my words.

Yesterday i not only lost my words….i did have a bad meltdown because of how the physical therapist treated me.

My post:

“Later on i will have a story to tell about just how insensitive medical staff can still be towards Autistic people.

I had my visit from the physical therapist today. Thankfully, Connie was sitting right here across from he and i, and witnessed the whole encounter between he and i. To make a long story short, he was brusque, unfriendly, and unwilling to really listen to me. In fact, he was unfriendly towards me right off the bat, putting his bag down right by my TV outlets, which set me off, because i do not like for anything to be placed up against my electrical outlets. So, i asked that he move them. Then he took it upon himself to sit down in my computer chair without first asking me.

He and Connie then left the room to go look at the heavy wheelchair i was given, and then my hospital bed.

Then when Connie and i proceeded to explain my needs for a Hoveround, and a new hospital bed that i can get in and out of easily, he interrupted, started to tell me he was going to have to get in touch with the place where i got my current hospital bed, which triggered me because that place was very unpleasant for me to deal with when i had to deal with them in July of 2012—-they were the ones who sold me a defective lift chair, and then came with a huge thick rock hard mattress for my hospital bed, which made it impossible for me to get in and out of that bed or to sleep in that bed, so i jumped into say i can’t deal with that place again because of how they were rude to me. Because he—the physical therapist who came yesterday, failed to communicate clearly to me and make it plain at the time that he was only going to be calling them to find out why i didn’t get a better mattress, so he could proceed from there. Had he of let me talk, and explain all of this, then after i talked, he would have explained that he was only going to be calling them to see what went on, so he could know how to proceed in how to help me—— i would have been okay——SO okay. But no. Instead, he began the now all too familiar and painful “Shutting-Of-The-Door-On-Melissa” routine.

His response was to tell me that if he couldn’t work with Best Care, there was nothing more he could do for me. I was already tense due to his unfriendliness, and when he closed the final door on me, i lost it and had a bad meltdown—–because——more ppl being dismissive and shutting the door on me for the help i need——is a huge NO. This is the same reason why i haven’t yet been able to get the leg surgery i am needing so i can walk again and drive a car again. Because of assdouche douchecanoe dickwads like him.

Because the cancer specialist i saw also disliked me and treated me brusquely.

I told Connie i was going to post about this, and she is okay with me doing so—–because this experience illustrates how we Autistics are still dismissed and muzzled and not allowed to be heard and listened to.

Shielding my face from his, because he had upset me so much that i didn’t want to look at him or feel his presence in my house anymore, i turned to Connie and asked for her to talk to him…and he continued to keep saying he can’t do anything….and so i began room spinning around me, more red-faced, more shaky and louder, hand-flapping, saying “No, no, no”, over and over, and so he left, and she followed him outside and talked to him there.

She said he made the comment:

“This is NOT Autism”,—-implying the this was something else—-but not Autism——

and she said “Oh really? What makes you so sure about that? Are you an MD? No. You are a Physical Therapist. And you are wrong.” She proceeded to explain she has worked for me a long time….that yes, i AM Autistic, and he is NOT qualified to make that diagnosis after only meeting me for five minutes.

Feeling remorse, he attempted to come back into apologize, but i was still in the thick of my meltdown, still very upset and angry—— so i said no, no, no, and “Furthermore, i do not want him to come back to my house—-ever!!”

When my nurse came, we told her what happened, and she is making a full report and getting me assigned to a female physical therapist who she is certain i will like.

I will be making this into a blog later on.

And i have. Please like and reblog and share this.