Tag Archives: Autistic Adult In Peril

Another October, And Year of Unrealized Lifelong Dreams

A frank talk, okay?

For those new to my blog, I am Autistic and multiply-disabled, and am a semi-ambulatory wheelchair user. I’m also 62 years old now.

And my life today sucks unbearably.

I am not going to do the suicide route okay? But I’m not gonna lie…I am so many levels of hella tired of not living anymore.

I do have suicidal ideations every day because I am in a constant state of thick black depression, because my life is so bleak and lonely and utterly_fucking_boring.

That’s how I feel. I do not feel as though I am living anymore.

Every single month day, week, I just go to dialysis, and then home.

And dialysis is unbearable again because of a mean woman now who is seated two chairs down from me, who won’t stop yelling at me when I do my vocal stims during dialysis. They so far are refusing to move her away from me—and she keeps on harassing me during my treatments!!

I have been given full permission by my kidney doctor, as well as the clinic’s facility admin and the social worker there, to do my vocal stims full-on while at dialysis. Everyone there loves the melodic singing noises I make anyway, — all except for this one mean lady who seems to delight in making me upset.

I try to ignore her, but she is relentless, to the point where I cannot ignore her anymore.

Yesterday, her yelling was affecting my blood pressure. My systolic (the top one) was on the higher end of the chart while she was there doing her yelling at me to shut up my singing.

She’s a bully. They need to MOVE her from me.

My caregivers are gold, but because of the morning dialysis schedule I’m now forced to be on, I have a long stretch of time of several hours every single afternoon when I am not on dialysis, where I am in this house cooped up, and lonely AF for just one person to come sit and watch one movie with me and talk and visit with me.

I am thirsting to take some drives and go sit up at the beach and watch the ocean. And eat good pizza and torpedo subs from Gino’s Pizza in Pismo Beach!

I no longer am able to make ends meet financially anymore each month. Because of my monthly bills and the now sky high grocery prices.

My desktop computer is overheating sometimes now, and I need a desktop computer for my writing and blogging and disability activism. My disability community friends are all online. My tablet is also old now. So is my cell phone.

And I have no way to replace any of them if they conk out. Without these devices, I will be cut off. And even more alone and lonely than I already am.

I am laying awake most nights so worried I cannot calm down enough to get back to sleep.

I have frequent sick stomach spells because of the constant droning anxiety and worry over my circumstances.

I beg God every day to just take me in my sleep.

I need a way out that is going to not just sustain me, but lift me up out of this thick black stagnant trap I am in.

Before I pull every single hair out of my head.

Please!!!!

Edited to add: I have just made a new Go Fund Me page.

What I wrote on my GFM page:

Hi, my name is Melissa. I’m 62 years old, am Autistic, have lymphedema on both legs and end-stage kidney disease. I’ve lived a long life of far too many missed opportunities, isolation and loneliness and have never been able to work.

I spend my days cooped up in a tiny cottage, with no one to talk to and no way to get out to take drives and go to the nearby coast. I get so depressed because I have always loved the ocean, taking pictures of scenery, and watching sunrises and sunsets. I’m a semi-ambulatory wheelchair user, and I have two caregivers who are gold to me, but because of my dialysis schedule and their schedules, on non-dialysis days, I spend all afternoon alone for at least 4 to 5 hours each afternoon.

In addition, what I receive each month from Social Security Survivor’s benefits, is, and always has been, barely enough to live on. Because of rising grocery prices and higher utility bills, I am scarcely scraping by.

My desktop computer, which I use for my disability rights activism, is now four years old, and it overheats a lot. My fear is if my PC breaks down, I will not have any way to replace it, and I need it to continue my work and to be able to maintain my connection to my disability community friends.

My mother and two caregivers are my only support, but none of them can help me the way I need to be helped.

I am so depressed that I cry almost every day. I am often sick due to anxiety and worry, and I rarely have a restful sleep at night. In addition, having to do in-center hemodialysis is literal sensory hell because some of the nurses and staff are not patient with me, nor do they respect my disability accommodation asks.

I want to move to the Northeastern US because I have researched it and would have nearby friends and many community supports that I cannot get here. I would also have better options for in-center dialysis.

I plan to use these funds to pay off some bills so I can fulfill my lifelong dream of living in that part of the United States.

My Go Fund Me is linked here.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/im-disabled-alone-need-real-hope-again?fbclid=IwAR29y0KqjsHtq53R4H8v-gC-1QkVNmRTbzToatpOk8kR87oTwGB2XzT0I2o

Thank You, Aunt Bee

Why do I keep having dreams of my aunt,

my late father’s sister,

when the woman literally hates me

and has refused to ever help me

to where I could

actually make

the huge moves forward in life

that I have literally

needed to make my entire

flipping adult life????

She has always known

since I began writing to appeal for her help

in Nov. 1988

that I am multiply-disabled

that I could have lost my SSI/Social Security

F O R E V E R

If I tried to better myself without her help

and I failed because of my disabilities

and needed to go back on my monthly benefits

She refused to help me get

the dental care I needed

So I wouldn’t start losing my teeth

which has happened

She refused to understand

How my disabilities

could keep me from working

She wanted me to suffer

and

just do without instead

And that is exactly what has happened

When one cannot work

their entire adult life

because of deep painful sensory issues,

executive functioning

and sensory processing

and sensory triggers

that are real and serious enough

to affect my job performance

and me keeping any job

she instead expected me to

somehow

magically

come up with

a set of

bootstraps

to pull myself up by

when I could not come up with

any kind of fucking bootstraps

She has always treated me like Ima criminal

Instead of disabled and unable to work

and even ridiculed me when I

finally got a diagnosis of autism.

Hateful people

whose hatred

and bigoted cruelty

can

literally

dismantle

and

ruin

a disabled person’s entire existence

by their cold hearted cruelty

I would hope that if I had riches

Like she does

that

I would never

deliberately turn my back

On my own niece

when she reached out to me.

And flat out refuse to help her

Like my aunt has done to me.

Thank you “Aunt Bee”

thank you so very much

for throwing me in the literal trash.

And now It is too late

I have end stage kidney disease now

which IS a terminal illness.

I hope I do have riches someday soon

So I can make this right by helping

another hurting **me** out there who has

also

like me

fallen through the cracks

and

who lives her life today

in a state of constant

daily

hopelessness,

distress

and

utter

despair.

An Appeal, To Be Seen, Heard, Befriended, & Given Real Hope For My Future, Please, Before It’s Too Late

I am writing this appeal now, folks, because my life as a multiply-disabled 62 year old adult cannot go on like this. I am writing this in the fervent hope I can find a few local friends, and maybe get the attention of those in higher places who can help me to finally find my place of happy and secure in life.

While I am still somewhat able to enjoy it.

My current situation, being that I am multiply-disabled now, continues to be a daily hell of me feeling like horrible black walls of doom are closing in on me fast with no visible real way OUT….and I am drowning with nowhere to go but horribly

//U N D E R//.

Can someone who has the financial means, compassion and understanding of my autistic existence, please take me under your wing and adopt me? Just to give me a bearable quality of life, and a sense of real family and belonging that I never had with my biological family?

I am now officially a senior citizen. As stated above, I am autistic, lonelier than lonely, in deep financial debt, and have deep anxiety, depression, C-PTSD trauma, numerous nightmares, trouble sleeping and staying asleep,— because I am worried to death of becoming totally homeless and destitute when my mother passes away.

Because of my disability of Autism, I have never been able to work my entire adult life, and have instead, existed all these years on SSI, then Social Security Survivor’s benefits, Medicare and Medicaid. And Section 8 Housing Assistance.

Except for my mother and two sisters who all live out of state, and my two awesome sweet angel caregivers, I have no physical and emotional support. None.

My mom and two sisters care, but they cannot help me financially beyond paying for my TV, internet and my landline and cell phone. My mom also pays for my city trash, recycle, green waste, water, and sewer services.

I am partially living off my credit cards, and am in over $12,000 dollars of debt now. Because I get very little to live on through Social Security. Even though I budget and pay all of my bills—my electricity, natural gas and three credit card payments—on time each and every month.

And it has gotten worse to make ends meet since COVID.

And well, as for my family, the rest of them— my 3 other siblings, and all of my nieces and nephews, sadly have //nothing// to do with me.

Some even have me blocked.

Because they all view me as a problem and burden because of my meltdowns and sensory issues….and this greatly hurts and breaks my heart into a million pieces.

In addition, the states where my mom and two sisters live are way too hot for me climate-wise, and too rural and isolated, with even less services than I have here in CA, so I am unable to handle relocating to those states so I can be physically near them.

My current living situation is so small and confined, is very noisy, is like a tight hot wooden box to me, and I //need// to be in a bigger place. Where I can see pretty flowers, trees, and the sky.

In addition, my cottage that I live in, and the cottage next door, are owned in part by my mom, and the very 3 siblings who ignore me and have me blocked.

I am told repeatedly that these 3 siblings—-no, NOT my mom, just them— want to sell my cottage and the one next door and have me just thrown into a rest home to vegetate and rot all alone for the rest of my life….and this adds greatly to my distress, fear and worry.

I feel like life is passing me by, literally. The fact that the home I live in is not my own, but belongs to those who are trying to edge me out and into one of those “homes”….terrifies me to a literally utterly horrible degree.

All I have to look at here are mostly awful ugly yellow tin buildings and hard ugly hot glaringly sunny asphalt and concrete.

In addition, I have been on in center hemo dialysis for 4 years now, and although my labs are always great, it greatly weighs on me that I now have what *IS* a terminal illness now.

I long to visit the ocean again, to hear and see it again. I long for local friends who will get me and not try to change me to what they want. Who will take me to the ocean and other places and just sit and hang out with me. Without judgment.

I would also love to be able to attend a liberal progressive church, and cannot do that either, because I have no way to get there either.

I am only semi-mobile now, due to lymphedema on both of my legs and lower abdomen areas. And a large lymphedema lump that is the size of a football on my inner left thigh. My legs and lower abdominal areas are badly disfigured by the lymphedema.

I can barely walk, as my back, hips and knees and legs all lock up on me in excruciating pain if I walk or stand too long— and I have to use a cane, walker, and wheelchair to get around. I can no longer drive…and can only ride in the front passenger seat of sedans or vans and SUV’s that are low enough for me to be easily able to enter and exit these vehicles.

This leaves me feeling stuck and cooped up like 24/7.

I live in a constant state of distress, fear and worry because of finances and my living situation. I wish I could just find a support network of those who understand my autism…who won’t become angry at me and give up on me when I have sensory overload and meltdowns.

Who will be here for me.

My main life goals have always been to be able to see the whole Northeastern US including New York City, plus Northern Michigan.

I long to tell my life story as an autistic growing up totally misunderstood and alone. I also long to draw again and to sell my artwork.

My home—and my life—has become an unbearable never-ending jail.

I need help before it is too late, please. Because I am seriously drowning.

Dialysis Hell, Here We Go Again…!

I am finding myself once again wishing to God I did not have to do dialysis anymore because of the toll it is taking on my mental, emotional and physical health. I cannot sleep at night, and am in a consistent state of mental chaos having to continue to deal with the ableism and refusal to accommodate my support needs at my lifesaving vital dialysis treatments that I am forced to go to if I care to live.

Each time I have a bad experience at dialysis, my poor caregivers suffer, because the meltdowns I have at Davita do not stop after I leave your clinic after one of my bad days there.

Bad days that **can** be mitigated. I repeat: bad days that **can** be mitigated.

I have told all y’all how to mitigate these meltdowns, and shit just keeps happening that sends me home in full-blown mental emotional sensory hell. Which gets straight on projected onto my caregivers. Because I am unable to hold my state of sheer sensory upheaval and distress IN.

Yesterday could have been mitigated. Just by Angel letting Nurse Jenni K. go ahead and put me on the damn machine. But no, She forced me to work with a nurse I had never worked with before in my life. It was early morning for me, and that early in the morning, I am not gonna have the spoons (energy) it takes for me to get to know a strange new nurse and tell them all about my put on routine.

Again—my autism is a disability. A disability that comes with meltdowns if I am forced to march to all y’all’s neurotypical beat when I am unable to do so.

I am asking you all to once and for all take my autism seriously, as accommodating me will make me be able to continue on with my hemo dialysis therapy. Otherwise, I am seriously contemplating quitting and having Hospice come into care for me.

Angel, you always tell me you love me, that I am beautiful and that you have my back. But you did not have my back yesterday. And the results were a spectacular fail—for all of us involved. There’s a good reason for my trust issues, and If I cannot trust my care team at dialysis, this won’t work for me.

Below is the post I wrote on Facebook last night, because guess what? I was unable to get to sleep until after 2 AM this morning.

Please, for the love of God, take my autism disability seriously, once and for ALL. PLEASE!!!!!

My post:

I usually watch General Hospital at about this time. (I began writing this post at 10:00 PM tonight and it is now 12:14 AM).

I am not doing so tonight.

Instead, I am still wide awake, binge eating bomb popsicles and playing over and over again today’s—now yesterday’s—horrible tapes of all of the hell I was forced to endure at dialysis today / yesterday.

I STILL can’t calm down. I am hot, so I have the A/C on, and this stress is also affecting the vision in my left eye. Lately when I get highly upset, my left eye gets blurry / double vision in it.

What’s it going to take for all y’all non-autistic folks to realize that autism is a D I S A B I L I T Y and not a B R A T T Y B E H A V I O R? I can’t take my autism off wherever I go. It goes _with_ me. My autism is a part of _all_ that I am and do and say and think and experience.

My autism requires certain accommodations. I’m 62 years old, and old enough to K N O W what works and does not work for me and the way my entire body is wired neurologically.

I went to this day’s treatment and **everything** was changed. For one, I found out the tech I loved, Bre, no longer works there. I didn’t have the other tech that I usually have, either–his name is Robert, and they had him working on Side B today—-and I also had a new nurse, a traveler, who //only just met me// the last time I was there.

He was working my side on my last visit, but was not my nurse that day.

I don’t do well with abrupt and sudden changes, and this threw me literally for a loop. Right off the bat.

I got to my machine and found no call button and one of the big blood pressure cuffs instead of the small teal-colored one I use that is comfortable, that goes just above my right wrist area.

That upset me.

Then this new nurse turned around and very curtly introduced himself to me, and I just _froze up_. I couldn’t do my treatment if I had to go through and have to use spoons I really didn’t have this morning, to explain to him how to tape down my shirt and then do my catheter and machine and blood pressure cuff and etc.

I began to panic. And then panic and panic. AND panic.

My old nurse, Jenni K., seeing how distressed I was, came over, offering to put me on the machine. That made me happy! I calmed down, ready to get put on the machine so I could dialyze and get it over with.

But then the head nurse, who is usually very sweet and understanding with me, seeing that Jenni was going to put me on, even though she could see how happy it made me, shooed her away, saying curtly that I would _have_ to deal with the unfriendly strange new nurse today.

I said “Oh HELL no, no, no, no, no!” and went back in my wheelchair and called Connie to come pick me up, that I was not going to do my treatment today under these circumstances.

I went on and on pleading with them to get my social worker to come help me.

Oh well—I missed Friday because of severe stress and anxiety due to last Wednesday’s shitty dialysis day and that same afternoon’s doctor appointment, so what’s me missing today too? /s

When the new nurse heard me talking to Connie on my cell phone, he suddenly softened, and said he wanted to work _with_ me and said I could tell him how I wanted everything to be done and he would do everything as I directed him to do.

Well—that_didn’t_happen.

I called for my social worker to be there at chairside for me. He was unable to come at first. So I was a hot mess trying to tell / explain to this new person how I like everything done.

Things did not go well at all. He lifted my leg rest up to get my feet and legs up in the reclining chair, but he only lifted my legs up by the addition part, not the actual leg rest that is underneath the leg rest add-on, and that set me off into a whole new meltdown.

Then he entered my prescription in wrong. I had told both him and the tech who brought me back, I only wanted them to remove _1_ kilo_of_fluid because my body cannot handle them taking off too much fluid at a time—and he went and put in _1.4 kilos_!. I said in sheer alarm: “NO, I do NOT DO that much!”, and he began to argue with me that the 1.4 was the norm.

I snapped and told him I knew my own fucking body–that I’ve been going there for 4 years now, and I knew how much I could handle and to fix it.

It did get fixed.

But then there was no heparin in the machine. I played hell trying to tell him to set my heparin at 0.7.

He finally did, and then when he went to tape my shirt, he began to tape the tape right onto my skin! Another no-no-no-no-no-no-nooooo!!!!

The blood pressure cuff the same thing, he kept putting it on my arm wrong with the lead of it stuck in my chair, which I HATE, because it makes me feel even more stuck in my chair to not be able to freely move while I am on the machine.

I did not get put on the machine until 10:25, and I came at 9 AM for my normal put on time of 9:15. I was not even taken back to my chair until 9:25.

At 10 AM, my assigned tech came…it was Cheryl, another young lady who I like, so that calmed me down somewhat.

I got to finally talk to my social worker, who said he would have a talk with the head nurse about how my get on went this morning. He said he would also find out what I would be in for when I come for treatment on Wednesday.

On Wednesday, I will start with Nurse Sadat, another nurse I have worked with who I like, and then my regular nurse Lauren will be on at 10. I will again have Cheryl also at 10 AM— but he was unable to find out what tech I would have before Cheryl’s clock-in time.

Larry, my social worker sat with me and I also got to talk to the head nurse and tell her how much I want to quit dialysis, because I can’t handle all of these changes. Her sweet side was back.

I still wish she_had_just_let_Jenni K._put me on. if she had of let Jenni put me on, I would have gotten put on at about 9:30 instead of 10:25.

I got 3 hours and 35 minutes of my treatment done, but ended up having Sadat take me off the machine. Because during my treatment, I noticed the new nurse, who had a runny nose, which he kept pulling his mask down to wipe—with his hand—and he never bothered to use hand sanitizer or wash his hands afterwards, and went onto handle other patients’ access ports and machines. With his germy hands.

Another HUGE pile of no. I was not about to have him touch me again after witnessing his poor hand hygiene. And then end up in the hospital with sepsis again—on my chest port which goes straight into my heart! Which could kill me!

I told the front office that I am requesting to never have this man as my nurse again.

And well, it’s past midnight now, and I still just can’t fucking calm down.

This clinic needs to hire more people who are actually caring, patient and compassionate human beings, because I am sick of having to go do a lifesaving treatment when I never know what kind of land mine I will be walking into when I go there.

Thanx to all who took the time to listen.

Sincerely,

Melissa Fields

MY STORY ONCE AND FOR ALL~~AND WHY I NEED HELP TO SURVIVE THE REST OF WHATEVER YEARS I HAVE LEFT TO LIVE ON THIS EARTH

The thing is, I was born.
I exist.
I breathe.
I live.
I matter
As I am.

But, ya see, here’s the thing,
I was born disabled
In May of 1960 in a time when no one knew what they know now about being disabled.

Back then, being disabled was thought of as both abhorrent,
and we who were disabled, were to be pitied, scorned, and put into the back rooms of our houses, or put into institutions.

Growing up, I never knew I’d grow up to go onto Facebook
And find out that there was a movement
A disability rights movement
And a neurodivergent movement
that says being disabled and autistic is OKAY

Yes, I was born Autistic
With co-occurring learning disabilities
And cognitive disabilities
And what I always was told were emotional disabilities
and a perceptual disability

On top of that, I was born with crossed eyes (strabismus)
I had eye surgery at the age of 2 1/2 years to correct this
but still was left with my right eye as my “lazy eye”
I still remember that surgery
and how I was pinned down afterwards
on my hospital bed
blind, unable to see due to patches being put on both of my eyes

That early childhood experience was my first in a lifelong time of trauma
Trauma after trauma after trauma
Because my family, and then schoolkids,
could not understand why I was both giddy silly over lights, and certain things
and why I was frightened of so many, many things that none of my other siblings were frightened of

I was terrified of bright lights
flickering flourescent lights
Cats and dogs
Swimming in a swimming pool
I was too scared, terrified, to learn how to ride a two wheel bike
I was too scared, terrified, to learn to roller skate
Or to play ball because
Instead of catching the ball, I would get hit by the ball
I was even scared, terrified, of the loud static-y record player we had
And our loud radio
And it all hurt
Because all of this was all literally scary to me

Instead of understanding me, I got ridiculed by my siblings
They would use these fears of mine to control me

Growing up, I never knew exactly what was “wrong” with me
I just knew that I was different
And because I was different, I was Less-Than

I knew that I was not at all the normal as apple pie that [I was always told] that all of my brothers and sisters were

I went to special ed classes from grades 1 through 4
then was put right into a rural school with no special ed classes
in 5th grade
when we moved to the mountains east of Santa Maria
I was not accepted at school or at home
Both places I was teased harshly and ridiculed
Or patronized and treated like a little baby
To be pitied
But still Less-Than

The stress of never being enough
Got to me physically
And I developed facial hair
Yesterday, my mom told me that I never had to work
But the reality was that
I was never able to work
Because of my facial hair
And the disabilities I had
And the way I was treated as Less Than
And the way it all manifested inside and out
In my body and brain

And high school
Was even harder
I kept running away in my sophomore year of HS
to get away from my STILL mean hot tempered father
and all of my mean siblings

I desperately wanted to go where
I would find acceptance
and belonging
I did find that in a family who moved near us
in the mountains so I was always at their house
because they made me feel like a person

I was ridiculed also because I knew by the time I was in 7th grade
That I was sexually different
as well from all of my peers
I just didn’t understand then
what it meant to be
Non-BInary, Queer, and Bi-Sexual
Because back then, in the 60’s and 70’s, it was
still highly frowned upon to be
homosexual / transgender / non-binary / genderfluid.
And I never had anyone I could discuss that with
Again, because being LGBTQ in those days
Was still a No-No.

But at home, it was hell, always hell
Because I either had to act silly,
or just clam up into a shell
In order to survive the harsh narrow mindedness of my family
And my father was always scolding
always yelling in a rage at me
I was beaten by him as a child
and punished for things like looking at my shiny hair
and swigging my arms
and using slang
and listening to rock music
and for being too silly
I was punished for my quirks
Always shoved away, punished, and scolded
Then later on in my early 20’s I got diagnosed with
paranoid schizophrenia by an SSI appeals psychiatrist

I went on SSI (Supplemental Security Income) when I was 21,
because of my facial hair,
and then what was thought to be mental disabilities.
I knew I wasn’t paranoid schizophrenic
Because I didn’t have those symptoms
But it was what they labeled me with at that time.
No one thought to say”Aha, she’s autistic!”

And my family never understood me or supported me
Instead, I spent my growing up years
sheltered and shielded from life
from being able to think for myself
I basically never got the opportunity to work
and to be able to get off of the government benefits
I have now been living on since the age of 21.

I grew up never getting to party, or have real teenage fun.
I have still never even gotten to attend a rock concert.
I was alone and had very few friends in high school.
A huge group of jocks made fun of me my entire time in high school.

I lived at home with my parents
Until December 1987when my parents
were finally able to afford to
pay to rent a small studio apartment for me here in town

I began to thrive there at my first apartment
Because I had learned very well
how to mask my autistic traits,
I was accepted by my family then
but even so, none of them ever came to visit me
when I lived there, except for my mom and grandma

I even tried to get help through CA Voc Rehab so I could work
But like everything else, that too failed
due to the little real support I had from my family.
Then my father had a stroke in July of 1989
And in 1991, I had to move to one of my sister’s cottages
where I again got thrown into being taunted and terrorized
so badly by two grown college aged girls next door to me
Then more neighbors in nearby auto shops and
other businesses ganged up
And began to bully and torment me also.

And it began affecting both my mental and physical health to where today
I now have lymphedema on both of my legs
A lymphedema leg lump the size of a basketball on my left inner thigh
and now I am in end stage stage five kidney disease

My family has abandoned me.
My eldest sister moved to Arizona in 2001 with her husband.
My other sister moved to Idaho in 1991 with her husband and family
followed my my youngest brother, in 1995 and his family,
then my parents in 1996
then my eldest brother and his wife and girl moved there in 2004.

With the exception of my mother and two of my sisters who do care
all others in my family ignore me
I am essentially just…a bother to them
They still don’t get it that I was born into that family
that I exist
and that I need help.
because I was never able to pull myself up in life
like they could do.

I am.
I exist.
I can think.
I can make my own informed decisions.
I’m a fucking human being.

I have rights.
I have the right to make choices.
I have a right to know what is happening before ppl just
go and do things that are going to affect my very life without asking me first.

I have the right
As a disabled adult
To live and to thrive
As I am
In my own community
To have full accessibility
To have full freedom.
I am still disabled.
I am 60 years old now.
I’m STILL a full-on PERSON, though!
Today, I am the ONLY one in my family who does not have their own home.

They all have jobs and homes.
I just have one of the two cottages where I live.
That are owned by my mother and a trust
Well, I need a safety net too when my mom passes away,
And she cannot see that.
And neither can the rest of my family
who already totally ignore me and just think
of me as a BOTHER.
A fucking BOTHER.

I’m not in a good place today mentally.

Because I was told when my mom passes away, that these two cottages are going to be sold….And the proceeds from this sale will be used to be shared amongst my five living siblings.

Where does this leave me? With only my Social Security to have to learn to survive on
Because until yesterday
I was under the assumption I would inherit these two cottages as my safety net for my future.
I will end up either homeless
Or forced into a nursing home.
Which my mother keeps telling me that is where I belong
In a nursing home
where I won’t be free at all.

This is why I play the Powerball lottery, so I CAN be free.
It is for me the ONLY way out I see for myself

Winning the Powerball jackpot
Will Free me of the fear that those in my family
who think of me as a bother,
will sell the two cottages where I live
and I will be forced into a nursing home when my mom dies.
Free of the more grave poverty I will be in also when she dies.

This is why I am for universal healthcare.
This is why I am for the freedom to live
and work in our communities
that the Olmstead Law has given us disabled people
And I am also for a basic universal monthly income in the amount of $2,000 a month,
so that I can still live a decent life after my mom is gone.

But I have learned the painful, hard, heartbreaking way
That even my own mother can forget just what my life has been like
and be cruel and take the only safety net I have away from me
That we cannot count on our biological families to have our backs

They were the ones who told me time and again
As I was growing up,
as I was a developing human being
My family all told me
Over and over and OVER again
That I was never enough
That would never date
That I would never have boyfriends
Never have friends
Never have a car
Never kiss
Never have sex
Never have a job
Never drive
Never learn to think for myself
They told me time and again
I was Less-Than
Broken
Wrong
Too weird
Too ODD
Too crazy
That I would never succeed at life
And yeah….they called me the R word
Called me a dog
Said I didn’t have brains in my head
That no one would ever like me
That I’d be spending my life running running running
Till I’d run out of places to run to.

The above that I am describing
Is sadly, the treatment that so many,
far too many children who happen to be born Autistic
get from their families
My family is no exception.

Yes, the two angels in my life,
my two sweet caregivers
did talk to my mom yesterday afternoon
and get her to listen and understand
and she said she would talk to my brother and sister
and tell them my plight
and that she would go and change her will
to make sure I am taken care of when she passes away
that I will have life tenancy in my home till I die.

But I am still terrified
of what my brothers and sisters may still
do to me when my mom passes away.

I hope to God
That if my eldest brother
who is now in Heaven
Because he passed away in May of 2018
That he sees, from Above,
what my family may be trying to do to me today
And he watches over me and prays for me
like I know he does
And prays that God will soften their hearts to finally know,
Get,
And understand my plight.
Otherwise, I will be homeless when my mom passes away
Or else put into a home.
And that will be the end of me.

Am I Not A Human Being? Do I Not Have Rights? I Am Perishing Because Now My Police Dept. Is Ignoring Me

An open letter to my city police department and my city council,

I am what you would call a prisoner in my own home.

I am an Autistic, and physically Disabled adult with health issues that could kill me—-i am stuck here, housebound, and my own home is an almost 24/7 virtual actual torture chamber.

I could very well die if the police do not help me again. That is how severely upset i am getting every single day now, in my own home.

I am now left so upset, having meltdowns so severe that it affects my whole body, makes me physically sick to my stomach, and then i am unable to function for days after those meltdowns. Yet i am having these meltdowns every day all because of the loud hot rodding and loud thunder bass that i have to listen to daily right in front of my house.

“Oh, just get your parents to sound proof your middle room, and shut up!”—-yeah sure, so i can go hunker down in there like i am in a war bunker, and then i would never get fresh air and sunshine. Which all human beings NEED!!

What? Am i not a human being???

I have always had someone to talk to who has helped me at that police dept. the entire time i have had to live here. Now i have no one at that police dept, not even the ones who i used to call my friends and allies. Everyone at that police dept now ignores me.

All because i made the mistake of letting them know that as an Autistic, i latched onto both speed trailers they had here, and made imaginary friends out of them. I am being punished by the police, because well, that’s not normal to make imaginary friends out of objects. yes it is when your neurology is different, when you are Autistic. Many Autistic people latch onto things and get interested in them and then have to know all about those things. It’s called Autistic interests. For me, it has always been certain roads, highways, and electronic things, like stereos, my digital smart electric meter when they gave me one, and now the 2 speed trailers that the police placed on my street, because of the way the numbers go up and down, and flash the speed if it goes over the limit, as well as the bright red “SLOW DOWN” sign.

All i have asked is for my city councilperson to get the Lt. Commander to open up his phone to me again, to talk to me again. And to get me a beat coordinator who will be just like Jason was, who will actually see my plight and help me so i do not feel like a prisoner anymore in my own home.

My city council member will not hear me, or help me either.

There has to be an ADA office close enough who will help me, please, because i am under so much stress just because of the atrociously loud fast raceway outside of my house, with the loud hot rods, and loud thunder bass stereo systems that actually vibrate the whole inside of my head when they are on near me.

This noise goes from 7 in the morning until 8, 9, 10, sometimes even like last night, i had loud hot rods and bass at 2 :30 in the morning!!!

Tell me how it is right or fair that i am to just grow a pair, put up and shut up when this is my HOME??????

I hope the American With Disabilities Act office reads this. I hope TV stations will pick my story up and tell it finally.

I cannot live like this anymore. I just can’t do it.

My Go Fund Me, because i want to move where i know i will have local friends, and all the services i need.

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

My Night Of Lamentations

I have no hope whatsoever for a decent existence now. No more will the police help me, and the mean bully across the street knows this, and is giving me the night from HELL. I do not know if i will make it now. I am sick, having one meltdown after another.

+++

I don’t care about whether it rains or not anymore
I don’t care anymore because nobody cares about me
I don’t care because i evidently do not matter to most ppl
I don’t care anymore if they haul me off
I don’t care if they kill me
I just want out of my misery and hell.

+++

I have lost all faith in humankind and in God now.

+++

I am so upset and discouraged at the way my police dept has decided to blow my problems off that i left several of the Santa Maria groups i was in. As soon as i am able to move, and know i can move somewhere decent, it is not going to be anywhere else in Santa Maria. I can promise you all that!! I am DONE with this town and the way its police dept has let me down!!! Done, done, and done!!!

+++

I needed someone to physically talk to right now, so i called the national crisis hotline. I wish i could say it made me feel better.

+++

What would make me feel better right now is to win enough money in tonight’s (Weds) night’s lottery, so i can move away from this pit of hell as fast as i can. To a place where i know i won’t face bullies who torment me right outside of my house day and even night. Like i have here. Where i also won’t have to call the police anymore either.

+++

I no longer consider police my friends. At all.

+++

This night is lasting way too long. And then i know my daytime will be more of the same of what i had yesterday. And now i have no more police to help me. This feels like one long dark tunnel that i cannot seem to climb out of.

+++

I am an Autistic adult in peril, and i need help, please!! I need for my community to see me as the human being i am, to see my plight as the very real nightmare it is, and to not force me to have to endure it any longer. I no longer feel like i am at home here. I no longer feel safe. I no longer feel like i am going to make it. Because my police dept has given up on me.

An Open Letter, Because I Am About To Run Away

I apologize upfront that this is not paragraphed properly. I did paragraph it properly, but everytime i go to re-edit it, it refuses to separate the paragraphs.

+++

I wrote the following letter to the chief of my city’s police dept., because i no longer seem to be getting anywhere with trying to get a new beat coordinator to help me with my still ongoing cancerous neighborhood issues. I sent it, thinking wow, i finally am going to get his ear, and he will get me the help i have been crying out for from my city’s police dept.!

In fact, now a sergeant, Sgt. R. M., who does not understand my plight and who thinks i should just snap my fingers and move—–oh yes, it’s just that easy—–and i mean that sarcastically, of course!!—-has now banned me from calling anyone but him about my neighborhood issues. it is not easy for me when people don’t—or won’t—take the time to understand–and they do what this sergeant has done, just lock me out. Now i am having the night from hell because now i want to run away.

But noooooo—as soon as i sent the very well-written email off to the police chief, i got a Daemon failure notice—-email failed to send because wrong DNS whatever.

So, i am going to publish that letter here, in hopes that the chief will some how, some way, come across it.

Dear Chief M,

I am finally writing to you because i am very upset about the way i am once again being treated and blown off by my city’s police department. I have reached the point where i feel i may need to take my story to the media.

Because i feel as though my police department has abandoned me again.

I am writing to let you know about my plight. I’m an Autistic 56 year old adult, who is in very poor physical health, and i have been housebound, unable to drive or go much of anywhere since April of 2012. I cannot even walk too far because of my legs. So, i am cooped up in this tiny 550-foot cottage on an almost 24/7 basis. My tiny home has become a prison and a torture chamber. I have become deeply depressed, and this depression grows deeper every day because i feel isolated and cut off from people, my community, and life. Yes, when people are nice and accepting of me, i am a people person who enjoys going places like the ocean, movies, church, out to eat, etc. But i don’t get to do those things anymore because of my failing health.
+++
I have lived here on *** Street for the past 25 years in a duplex that is owned by my mother. The past 24 of these years have been a hell that i have never been able to successfully escape…not for lack of trying….but being that i have never worked, all i have had to live on all of my adult years is my monthly Social Security benefits. I only continue to live here on *** Street because i have no where else to go. My hell is mainly caused by men who work and hang out at some of the nearby businesses who bully and terrorize me because they think it is a fun sport. I lack the filters to be able to ignore them, especially when they deliberately revv their motors, scream loud banshee yells at me, lay on their car horns, and blast their amplified loud thunder bass. These noises are severely painful for me to hear, and i scream and meltdown because of the agony this causes me.
 +++
It is not like i can live my life with headphones and earplugs on 24/7, just to adapt my own home environment, where i should feel safe, to the outside world. I did not choose to move here, and believe me, if i had been able to choose where to live, it would have never been here. I live here only because it’s the only thing available for me.
+++
I used to feel safe when i knew i could always pick up the phone and have either Lt. K. G. or Lt. C. R. to talk to and help me, and then earlier this year, i had Jason. Now i am back to having no one to call and talk to. 
+++
My new beat coordinator, P. S., and Sgt. R. M. both tell my mother and i that they are too busy helping others to help me, and that is the God’s truth. I have talked to Officer S; my mom has talked to Sgt. R. M., and both seem to not have any real understanding of my circumstances. Nor do they seem to want to. In fact, today my mom was told that all future phone calls concerning my plight on *** Street are to now be referred to Sgt. R. M.
+++
I am afraid to talk to most people as a rule until i get to know them and feel safe with them. I am very timid about phone calls, because most people seem to lack a true understanding of my Autism, how it manifests, and what my plight with my living environment is. I deal the best with people who are friendly, open and accepting, people who make me feel that my feelings and needs are being truly validated. I shut down on people who are rude, curt, who don’t listen, who interrupt, talk over me, down to me, and treat me like i don’t matter. I have always been very afraid to deal with Sgt. R. M. because he is like that, and now it seems like i am being forced to.
+++
Two years ago, i remember that you talked to my friend H, and promised her that as long as you were chief, my calls for service would not be ignored any longer. And now, even Cmndr. K. G. ignores me. Which really hurts, because i have always considered him to be a real friend and ally.
+++
Here is what i am asking of you.
+++
1) Please don’t force me to have to work with either R. M. or P. S. anymore. Please find me someone who will be like Jason was, 
**who will get the speed trailer back on my street more often, on my side of the street where i can enjoy watching it work from my front lawn, 
**who will set me up with regular patrols, 
**who will talk to me,
**who will talk to my neighbors and explain to them how i am trapped here, how this is my home, and how the loud hot rodding, banshee yells, excessive horn honking, and thunder bass noise affects me worse than ever now because my physical health is failing now, and i can no longer go anywhere to escape it anymore.
+++
2) Please also ask Cmndr. K. G. to at least talk to me once a week. Again, i only feel safe with certain people, because when people are rude, condescending, talk down to me, or over me, and blow me off, that is a real sensory issue for me that keeps me upset for days, with meltdowns.
+++
The meltdowns i have when a car revvs its motor or blares their thunder bass, or people lay on their car horns or banshee yell at me, are severe, and cause me to get physically ill to my stomach. 
+++
Having the speed trailer here was a real comfort to me, as i felt it protected me from all the harsh noises and even the mean bullies. I know you only have a few of those, but i have even offered to pay your department a monthly fee to rent it on a regular basis. 
+++
I do have a possible way to move in the Spring of 2018. But while i am still here, it’d mean the world to me if my police department would care again, and work with me, please.
+++
I am enclosing pictures of the speed trailer that i enjoyed watching.
+++
I fervently hope this letter reaches you, and not R. M., or anyone else who may not get my plight. Please help me. You are my last hope.
+++
Sincerely,
Melissa Fields, *** Street
+++
P. S.~~I am also enclosing a link to my Go Fund Me page. Maybe the police department can all get together and purchase a speed trailer for me, like the RU2 Systems Kustom Signals one that was here?
+++
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031

In Case I Get Put In Facebook Jail, Please Help Me

The following link is my Go Fund Me appeal page. I am asking all who follow this blog to please retweet and post my appeal for me at least once a day, as Facebook is now getting upset with my posting my appeal page on there so often.

I am only trying my best to get the help i need so that i, an Autistic middle-aged adult, who is also physically disabled, housebound and alone, with no in real life local friends except for my caregiver, can move to a place where i can have the much needed peace i need, and i can, once and for all, finally get away from the bullies and awful loud verbal harassment, speeding, hot rodding, and racing, plus loud thunder bass noises that i have to contend with on a daily basis here where i live.

My life the way it is, is killing me inch by inch. Both mentally, emotionally, and physically. Most days, i am reduced to a screaming mess, and these meltdowns are making me actually sick. And now on top of this, Facebook is now giving me problems when i post my appeal and tag my friends so they can repost this.

I don’t know how i will be able to go on if Facebook should block and suspend my account. I really badly need my friends to get together and help me, please.

I do need to get out of this place as soon as possible. I no longer feel safe living here, especially now that the police seem to be ignoring me.

The link to my Go Fund Me is below. Thank you, everyone.

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

Would You Not Be Depressed Too If You Were Stuck In A Small Four-Walled Box?

136

I just wrote this. This explains why i am so deeply depressed and having so many meltdowns lately. It is hard—-way beyond hard—when my own home is right in front of a war zone full of bullies and i can never get out to go places to escape this hell. All i have to look at is a concrete and asphalt street and rows of ugly yellow tin buildings all day long.

I sleep all of the time now because i only feel safe when my caregiver is here. When she isn’t here, and the bullies are, they really crucify me….and they did so yesterday, so badly i almost fainted from screaming so strongly.

But PLEASE don’t blame my caregiver. She does all she can do for me, and does her best by me. She has a real heart for me, and cares deeply about me. She would do more if IHSS allowed it and if they paid IHSS caregivers mileage, and helped pay for their car insurance, and maintenance.

I also felt safe when the speed radar trailer was here. I so wish the police would bring that back for me. It calmed the street down, and even made the bullies stop picking on me while it was here, because the bullies saw me being able to interact with others, and i guess that made them feel like i was more of a human being than they thought i was.

I have a great and deep empathy for people, especially all of those who are my friends, you all do not realize how deeply i care about all of you—– but please forgive me——it is not always easy for me to show it because the mental pain and state of fear that i am all the time in is sometimes too great.

I know this comes across as me not caring abut the feelings of others, and what they are going through, but i can assure you all, that is so not the case.

I so wish i had my family around me, and that they would understand, accept me, and care about me. I would not feel so alone, so isolated, and and cut off!!

 

Yes, this is my life.

I am stuck living in a 4 walled box
I get to go to the bank once every month,
and sometimes to the doctor
Sometimes to the psych tech nurse who prescribes my Ativan
But that is it
It is not my caregiver’s fault
She would take me on outings
if IHSS allowed her to do so
But they don’t
When my caregiver is not here
I am all alone
and very lonely
I have no one to call
no one to talk to
when my caregiver isn’t here
because i have no nice neighbors around me
and no in real life local friends
no one at all
as most of my family live out of state now
they all moved when i was still doing well
when i still could drive
when i still had my health
when i could still get out and walk
when i could still go to church
but a bunch of traumatizing stuff happened in early 2012
that set me back mentally & emotionally
i had to stop driving due to that
i actually lost the ability to drive
at the same time, my leg tumor was growing too big too
which also made it hard for me to drive
And now today, i sit in my house
and life now is passing me by
most of my family ignore and shun me like i’m a plague
because they don’t get me, and get or understand my Autism
i do talk to my mom and she does what she can to help me
i also have one nice sister who cares about me
but again, both live out of state now
i talk to my mom sometimes several times a day
and write to my sister when i have the spoons
but otherwise i am all alone
i wish people would understand when i can’t smile
and when i have those days when i have more meltdowns  than usual
how hard this is on me to only get to see things through my TV and computer and front door now
yes i still have the bullies here who still
make my life even more of a living hell
yes, they still are at it
and now the police seem to be ignoring me
all of this is getting to me
i badly need a way out of here
as my physical health is failing
and i am about to break emotionally and mentally
my depression and despair is so deep
that i often have no strength to even get out of my lift chair
where i now sleep
i am sleeping all of the time now too
because it is my only true escape
except for when my caregiver comes
i have sadly grown to depend on her with my life
as she has become my only lifeline
i panic when she has to leave early, or when she gets sick
because i am scared to be awake now in the daytimes
when i am here all alone
because the bullies crucify me when she isn’t here
yes, that is when they do all the mean things
to antagonize me
i keep going on because i have no choice but to
but please forgive me when i cannot smile
when it gets too much for me that i end up melting down
i am in a pain so real and it is hard to put on normal when i want to run and scream and hide from it all
I hope i can get my miracle soon
so i can move and get better healthcare, and better adult services
I love my caregiver, she does her best by me
so please don’t blame her
but i do need a way out so i can have my joy and happiness and peace back.
Please.

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