Tag Archives: Nothing About Us Without Us

A 2010 About Me, Re~Do

In researching some of my relatives, i came across an old Facebook post i had written, as an appeal for help, in early 2010. Rather than just delete it, i’m going to repost it here and on my WordPress, only without the awful ableistic language i used back then, well, because, i did not know what i know now about my autism, and i was searching for support and community. I was scared, still new to Facebook, and still not yet woken about so many things, so i used functioning labels, because i just didn’t know any better.

Below is my old appeal, because it is still too well-written to just delete and forget about, only no ableistic language this time!

[CW for some ableist slurs.]
~~~
Not The Cr**y Lady Of Mean Bully Monster Street!!!!
__

Hi–my name is Melissa. I only began to reach out on Facebook to tell my story of horror that happened to me around the holidays. (And now as i re-write this, it is 2019, and i forgot what that horrible was, and will have to find time to go back in my blogs and revisit my old post.) Basically, i am an autistic adult, 49 yrs. old, going on 50, who has never been able to work or fulfill any of her lifelong dreams and goals. (I am now almost 59 years old.)
Also a new re-write to this, I live in a neighborhood that is mixed residential and light industrial. I have had to live here since May of 1991, and it has been sheer hell for me. I have never been able to work bc of my disabilities, so i have been living trapped in an unhealthy environment full of bullies who make it their mission to torment me almost on a daily basis, by making the very noises they know trigger me. The noises include: Loud banshee style man yells, cussing at me, calling me names, (even the r word), loud sustained horn honking, louder than F engine revving, and turning their bass filled music up so loud my entire house vibrates and shakes. Stuff i cannot just unhear.
And, they do this right in front of my house.
Some of my history….

From Spring of 1976 up to April of 1992, my only problems were that i was firstly in high school, wanting a way to be able to pursue my dreams of becoming an actress and an FM rock radio deejay, then, after high school, a way for me to get off of the gov’t aid i was on, so i could be able to learn how to drive, get my own car, go to work and have a self-sufficient and productive life–and then, hopefully,–i’d be able to fulfill my dreams and goals.

My big problems with ppl taunting me and being cruel to me, were a thing of my past, or so i thought. That all occured during my early childhood and my school years, between years K thru 4th grade–it stopped in 4th grade, when i happened to go to a school that had nice kids who liked me….and then resumed again, in earnest, when my family and i moved to the country, and my 5th grade resumed being a nightmare again, with the kids being viciously cruel to me again. My 5th thru 8th grade years remained very painful..and my first two years of high school–were more of the same. I had family problems too, with mean brothers and mean sisters, all being mean and insensitive to my being different, too. I gained relief after high school, when these mean brothers and sisters moved out on their own, got married and began having families of their own. In the spring and summer of ’76, before my junior year of high school, i learned to cope by developing a silly goofy personality that my brothers and sisters all seemed to like. In other words, i learned how to mask my “differentness”.

I never knew i was autistic. My mom always called my disability a “perceptual handicap”. 3 months into first grade, i was put into EH classes for the emotionally handicapped, and i stayed in those classes until 4th grade, when i went to a nice school where the kids and teachers were both nice to me.

In 1981, i began to seek out pen pals who liked the same music i did–which was album-oriented rock, progressive rock, hard rock, heavy metal and new wave music. I LOOOVED the music of the late ’70’s and all of the ’80’s!!! I had sooooo much HOPE for my life in these days!!!!!!!!

Finally, in late 1987, my parents were financially able to afford to rent a small granny unit behind a bigger house for me so that i could be back in town again. This worked out great for me for the next 3 1/2 years, because i lived in a nice quiet residential neighborhood, where my neighbors were all nice–including the two old ladies who lived in the front house, Winnie and Joyce. They, as well as their family, and their church, all took me under their wings-and i blossomed even further, as a result!!
I was finally able to learn how to drive and i got my driver’s license and my grandmother’s car, in 1990. After this, i moved Heaven and Earth to try to get myself up and out of my rut. In 1991, however, my father, who had already had a stroke in 1989, had to also have major heart surgery–and i was forced to move here to–Mean Bully Monster Street. Because, my sister Mona owned a duplex here. So–i moved to one of the little cottages, next door to a girl who was 21 years old.

I continued to do great living here in the little cottage next door to me—for the next 10 months. I got along great with Molly–(not her real name)— and her friends–until Molly had one of those friends move in with her in April of 1992. Immediately after that, i began to be treated to shrill loud bubblegum pop music, with a huge megabass loudspeaker, aimed right at my house—and the battle was on. This was happening like clockwork, every single afternoon when Molly’s friend would come home from work. She would come inside their little studio apartment–and immediately, up would go the pop music–drowning out my rock music and my TV, to where i could not enjoy them. And–they were nasty about it. They would say that they were going to turn it down, telling me and my mom that it wouldn’t be a problem anymore–but they would turn right around and turn it right back up just as loudly, after two or three days again. In addition, they stopped being friendly to me right after Molly moved her friend in with her–something that i have always hated—-to have ppl hating me!!
I regressed BIGTIME–yes, it was me being back to having full-on screaming meltdowns just like the ones i had when i was a child and teenager again–because i was back to being taunted again, just like when i grew up with the mean schoolkids, and mean siblings. At the time, i felt like an utter failure as a person because i was having meltdowns again. I felt HUMILIATED—-because at that point in time, i felt like i was all wrong and defective, and i had spent so much energy working hard to get PAST all my painful growing-up years!!!!! I did not realize till much later on in life that this was internalized ableism, the thinking of myself as wrong and defective. But this was, sadly, what my family and society wanted me to be so i could fit in. And still, today, in 2019, many neurotypicals and non-disableds feel like being autistic and disabled is all wrong, all bad. And that we need to be fixed, cured, and healed and “in recovery”.

And, the past (now, 28 years) i have paid a million fold, because i got noticed for having those meltdowns—by all the other meanies who lived and worked on this street—-and most still live and work here, as of now, March 2019. The rest you all pretty much know about–and i have told this story in full, in my blogs, both on WordPress, and Blogspot.
I am here, because i feel that i am now near death because of my circumstances. And i feel so now more than ever, as i re-write this in 2019. Because i am now on kidney dialysis.
Yes. This has greatly affected my physical health. My health began going downhill the first week of Molly having her mean friend there playing the louder than F music right into my living room every fucking afternoon.

Back when i was still in what i thought to be my happy bubble—-when i still lived on Happy Street next to the 2 kind old ladies—i began to write appeal letters to a rich aunt and uncle—-because his wife is my late father’s sister–to ask for a small trust fund i could live on, so that i could have the freedom to get the help i needed so that i could do things to better my life without me having to fear being penalized by Social Security and then being totally knocked off my benefits-and then, if things didn’t work out, i wouldn’t have to face the very real risk that ppl have of not being able to get their benefits back.
Well–in the beginning, my aunt would read my letters—and my aunt would always call my mom to discuss my plight—and she would always ask my mom lots and lots of questions about me, as if she was genuinely concerned about me.
I would get my hopes up so high everytime that i would get a letter and the money i was asking for.
It resulted in me once getting $300 from her to help pay for some car repairs i needed. Then, in 1994, i began to write asking my Aunt if i could be in my uncle’s TV commercials–so i could earn money that way. I also asked if she would help me to get my artwork, stories and poetry published so i could make money through my creative endeavors. I also asked for help with the dental care that i needed that Medi-Cal would not cover at the time, to help save some of my teeth. (This is why my teeth are now really bad). Her heart had already grown hardened against me now—for no reason at all—so–her answer to all of this–was a loud, resounding “NO!!!!” To my mom, she said “No–she cannot be in her uncle’s commercials because of this and this and that—no–i won’t help her with her dental care or her therapy–or anything!!!!”
She went onto say to my mother that:

“Melissa just needs to be satisfied with what she gets from the government aid programs–make the best of things as they are, and just tighten her belt and not have cable TV or a car or music or books or magazines, etc. She needs to just count her blessings that she has gov’t aid–and leave me alone!!!”
I stopped writing those letters for awhile–and then began writing them again. Then, my father passed away in February of 2000. Shortly after that, she began just throwing my letters away. She told my mother she was doing this, in one of her phone calls to her–and my mom, appalled, asked her to just please send them to her, and she would keep them for me in a file. The aunt complied–and so now, when i write to her–my mother gets the letter–unopened. I finally began writing to my uncle in 2007 and 2008. As a result, my aunt sent another small amount to my mother on Christmas of 2007–“For Melissa’s care.” I was finally able to buy a computer for the first time ever–and pay off a bunch of debts i had, with this money. (I have now stopped writing this aunt. But i now have numerous dreams where i am talking to her. In some of the dreams she is actually nice to me, in others, she is stern and cold, and acts lie she hates my guts.)

During another period where i was doing >alittle< bit better, my parents and two of my sisters, their families and my little brother and his family–all moved to Idaho. I stayed behind, b/c i now had a kind cop helping me–and the support of a bunch of kind ppl in a Christian Singles group that i was into from 1996 thru early 2000. My goal was now to move to Arroyo Grande, where i could be close to all of my Christian singles friends..so i could finally be away from this nightmare street, once and for all!!!!
That didn’t happen–again, b/c i am on Section 8–and you cannot find a decent place on govt aid. Plus–again–if i were to move–and it were to not work out–and i had to move BACK here–my mom could no longer rent to me on Sec. 8, b/c of their new rules that do not allow ppl to rent from family members. In 1997, my sister was going to put this duplex up for sale, and my mother bought them so i wouldn’t face being possibly homeless for the first time in my life.
My street problems continue to be downright unbearable–EXCRUCIATINGLY UNBEARABLE–at times.
I have switched my days and nights around NUMEROUS times during the past 28 years, to cope with this.
I have also learned to sleep with loud white noise, loud music, and loud TV–to cover the noise and the harassments and tauntings from the bullies.
I have to be very careful how and when i leave my house. Now that i have caregivers, it is easier for me, much easier.
Sometimes things aren’t so bad. But–the majority of the time–it is.

Alot of ppl will say things such as: “Oh, you just need to ignore the bullies and they will stop,” or “You need to stop letting them have this power over you.”
With my autism the way it manifests–this is WAY impossible to do–b/c i do not have to filters to be able to do that—-this is truly the kind of stuff that i am NOT able to ignore–especially when it involves men actually BANSHEE-yelling at me, laying VERY loudly on their car horns, playing with their car alarm systems, yelping at me, cat-calling, calling me “Fat, fucking [r word] bitch”,–AND—the UN-GODLY way they will just SCREAM, ROAR, AND SCREECH thru here with their already loud, modified hot rods, motorcycles, SUV’s, pickups, sports cars, sports motorcycles, muscle cars, and etc.
I DO try to find happiness even in spite of the way things are. I am only posting these notes and letters on here to get help and relief–and also to educate people that this is a VERY real and pervasive issue for autistic children and adults!!!! Most people don’t understand that our sensory issues are a real thing that needs to be accomodated. This is where i have to live until i finally find a way to break free from here, and the bullies are continuing to make it a living hell for me, because they refuse to take this seriously. I’m not asking them to stop doing their work. I am asking for the tauntings and harassment so stop.
Some of the things i would like to try are being able to film/document what’s going on on my street and post it to YouTube. I do have one story sort of written about my life–with pictures. (I do now have a YouTube channel….just Google Melissa Fields Autistic, and you will find my blogs and YT channel.)

I just want relief from this pit already—i think that being here for 28 long years is enough, on top of now knowing i could die soon from my kidney disease–that is why i am here.
Thank you for listening and for getting this and for being my friends, those of you who are my friends. God bless you all!!!!
Love,
Melissa
~~~
Postscript to the above post, which was written in February 2010….i still live here, and last June was hospitalized for three weeks, and diagnosed with end stage (stage 5) kidney disease. I have been on kidney hemodialysis ever since June 19th 2018.
The employees of the auto shop still torment me almost daily.
In 2005, i developed lymphedma in both my legs, where fluid builds up in a person’s arms, legs, etc., nd they swell up, and my physical health has kept on declining since then, to where i had to stop driving in 2012, and had to start relying on in home caregivers.
Being autistic, most non-autistics do not get autistic people, our triggers, our challenges, etc., and as a result, most of my caregiver experiences have only added to my agony. In March 2014, i wrote a six part series on several of the abusive caregivers i endured from 2012 through 2014.

I was diagnosed as being autistic at age 4, but did not know this until i was 39, when an actual therapist i was seeing at that time, diagnosed me as having what was called Asperger’s Syndrome, a form of “high-functioning” autism, their words, not mine, because i now know functioning labels are bogus AF.
It was only when i came onto Facebook and met people like Tricia Kenney, Sharon Da Vanport, Heather Farley, Emily Titon, etc., that i got woke. Until then i thought i was the broken one, and that i was all wrong. And i sadly, grew up with that ableistic mindset. Because that was what got drilled into me by my own family, and the schools i went to.
Being autistic is not the problem; the problem lies in when most of society keeps insisting we are behavior problems and puzzle pieces that are to be controlled, scolded, lectured, fixed, solved, and worse yet, cured. Even worse? When Charismatic Christians want to lay hands on me and “pray my autism away.” Ummm, miss me with that trope, thank you.
Autistic people are born autistic, and are going to die being autistic, so please listen and learn from us, instead of fighting us.
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I Am Autistic, Not Spoiled

midnight-auroras-lake-superior-michigan

I am Autistic
I am not a behavior problem
I am not a faulty broken appliance
My Autism
is a neurological developmental disability
That i cannot just take on and off
like one takes on and off their jacket or clothing
I cannot help it that i am easily triggered by
Abrupt changes
Changes happening that happens
without my first being told about it
and prepared for it
Harsh impatient angry tones of voice
Harsh impatient angry looks on the faces of others
Certain foods
Certain songs
Certain smells and scents
Certain atmospheres
Certain textures
Certain lighting,
especially if it is intensely strobe-like
The dark
Being chided or made fun of
Being told i said or did this or that
when i know i didn’t say or do that thing
Being told things are a certain way
when i knew they were another way
I am ultra sensitive to being criticized,
talked down to, condescended to and yelled at
Please understand when i am having a meltdown
it is not a temper tantrum
the meltdown has happened because
something has triggered me and
caused me sensory pain and anguish
sensory pain and anguish that is very real to me
As if i was being actually physically hit
or stabbed or whipped
it is especially at that time that
i need to be treated gently
My Autism cannot be fixed or cured
or scolded and yelled away
Nor can i separate myself from my Autism
It IS a part of me
It is all of who i am
My Autism does define me
It defines all of who i am
God made me and all other Autistic people
Please understand that I am me,
i cannot be and act the normal
that the world wants me to be.
Please understand this.
I love you, everyone.
I love you all,
and i really hurt when i feel
people don’t love and care about me.
Please let me be me and
don’t hate me for being my Actually Autistic me.

Rivers Of Anguish, Rivers Of Hope

Below are some of my latest posts. Because i am needing to write. because i really do need help. Because i really do need a way out of this jail i am trapped in. This jail that is made up of my toxic neighborhood, and the tiny 550 square foot box that i am confined to.

Sunday, Sept. 18, 2016–7:03 AM

“Oh boy, the sun is up early!! GRRRRRRRRRR!!! 😡 It’s gonna be hot today….i am so not looking forward to that!!! 😡

Grumpy me is going back to bed because it is still nice and cool right now, and i will just hope for the best, that my house doesn’t warm up too badly.

Just…..GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! 😡 ”

Sunday Sept. 18, 2016–2:53 PM

“Oh God, this is AWFUL!!!!!!!!!! My living room is an awful hotter than Hades OVEN this afternoon—-i should have had the A/C window open—-it is not, and I AM SUFFERING HOLY HELL!!!!!!!”

Sunday Sept. 18, 2016–4:14 PM

“I am okay now. My mom called the fire dept. for me, and they sent a nice police officer over to open my A/C window, so now i have the A/C going, and my living room is cooling off nicely. It got very HOT today, and i was almost ready to suffer heat exhaustion. Because here in my living room, it felt like it was 100 degrees. I was seriously burning up.

I REALLY hate my Sundays though, because i am alone with no one to help me at all on Sundays. At least i know i can call the fire dept or police if need be.

I think i will go cry now. I really feel like crying now. 😥 I HATE having to be alone anymore!!!! 😥 “

Sunday Sept. 18, 2016–5:10 PM

“I am glad i did not have to die in my hot living room today, very thankful for the nice police officer who opened my air conditioner window for me—very thankful that my air conditioner still works!!! 🙂 “

Sunday Sept. 18, 2016–6:09 PM

“The KSBY website says Santa Maria is still at 80 degrees as of now. YIKES!!!! :O “

Sunday Sept. 18, 2016–6:56 PM

“I am glad the sun is setting now. I really want to move where it doesn’t get hot like this!! Yes, i am serious about this!! Because……i actually had to get a police officer to come to open my A/C window today because i was getting overheated to where i was going to pass out.

I had my mom call the fire dept. to do this, but instead, a nice police officer showed up to open the window for me.

Like i say—i’m glad i had this help. Otherwise i would have had to call an ambulance.

I am going to go eat dinner now.”

Sunday Sept. 18, 2016–8:44 PM

“Here are the places i would go if i could still drive and still had a car—but i had someone who would go with me so i am not having to go all alone:
*The San Luis Obispo Farmer’s Market
*Avila Beach/Harford Pier/Pismo Beach/Shell Beach
*Avila Valley Barn
*The movies
*Panera Bread
*Solvang/Los Alamos
*Downtown Friday Nights farmer’s Market
*Applebee’s
*Cool Hand Luke’s for ribs
*San Luis Obispo downtown/the mission
*Morro Bay/Cambria/San Simeon
*Crumbles Restaurant
*F. McKlintock’s for ribs
*Woodstock’s Pizza
*Waller Park
*a nice laid back church that accepts Neurodiverse, LGBTQ, and all marginalized people
I wish i had local friends who would take me to these places. I wish i was not all alone. I wish my family cared about me. I wish i was not in this trap, this cage i am in.”

9:43 PM

“I just watched the news as it was on after the Sunday night NFL football game, and found out that today’s temp in Santa Maria got up to 96 sizzling hot degrees. No wonder i was having heart palpitations, and feeling hot, flushed, and like i was going to pass out!!

If i had not of had my mom call to get someone over here—-a nice police officer came—-to open my air conditioner window, i could have died today. I am still feeling very rattled, and am now afraid to turn off the air conditioner for fear i will feel like passing out again.

96 degrees is way too hot for someone like me to have to sit in a living room that has turned into a hot oven; because of my leg condition, and i am also 3x to 4x plus-sized, with a new problem: low kidney function….i cannot get by without the air conditioner.

I am going to have potato chips dipped in ketchup now. Because that is what i am craving. I am also craving soft and doughy homemade sugar cookies. But i don’t have those, so….yeah…..

I hate my Sundays on desert island!! 😥 “

9:44 PM

“Yes, 96 degrees is way too hot for me!!! 😦 “

I then posted memes about Autumn, because i love that season, when the leaves all turn such beautiful colors, and the days are just warm enough to be comfortable, and the nights are nice and cool. I also posted a meme about all of the soft and doughy looking Christmas cookies i would love to have this Christmas.

I really am alone, and so lonely for local friends.
I am lonely to have more caring people in my life.
I am sad because most of my family coldly ignore me.
I am in pain all the time because of my legs, and this leg tumor makes it so hard to even sit and enjoy my computer.
This Spring and every Spring now when the hills are bright green from our winter rains, i always miss getting to get out on drives to see them and take pictures of them.
I long to live where i can see beauty outside—not these ugly yellow tin buildings all day long.

I am hoping that i can at least get my own speed radar trailer. I made a Go Fund Me page for that, and to also raise the money for a move to a place whee i will have the above things i so long to have.

I so hope someone will help me, please.

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

078

103

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

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.

Broken Into Millions Of Pieces In A Long Tunnel Of No Hope In Sight

I am having yet another bad night of searing leg pain so bad i cannot sleep at all. I know this came on me because when the cops took the speed trailer this time, the mental and emotional trauma i went through, put my whole body into a shock, a mental and physical state of shock it still hasn’t recovered from.

I have no in real life local friends who will visit me, and take me places. My family still to this day shun me and think of me as a plague and a monster, with the exception of my mom and one sister in Arizona.

I am housebound stuck at home unable to go places and do things i want to do. I have spent my whole life lonely, always on the outside, being ridiculed, misunderstood, muzzled, not heard, not respected, talked over, etc. So from an early age on, i began to escape by latching onto certain roads, highways and electronics that appealed to my eye, and i would make them all into sweet cool angelic friends who all got (understood) me, and adapted me like their sister. I made this speed trailer into an imaginary friend also……..but who was very real to me. Yes, i am still able to have her in my life without the speed trailer….but it is not even close to being the same as when i imagine her being a part of that speed trailer.

In the speed trailer, she and i really had many an awesome time talking, giggling, and just being ourselves, if that makes sense. Her cuteness, wit, and sunny sweet personality, big brown eyes, and dark brunette shiny hair fit this speed trailer to a T. She also had a beautifully kind heart. She was a very compassionate soul. We were kindred spirits.

You see, i have had to live for the past 25 years in a neighborhood where i get bullied alot by the men in an auto shop across the street, ——and her presence here in the speed trailer every afternoon from 12 noon through 7 to 8 PM, was, for me a real Godsend. It got me finally to venture out of my house and sit in my front yard to enjoy watching this speed trailer working, as i would mentally in my head, talk to it (Selena). Because of this, i began to feel more relaxed and at ease, and would talk to many of the passerby who would walk by, or ride their bikes by. I even warmed up to some of my neighbors who i had previously had problems with.

Now with it again gone, i am back in my four-walled box again, afraid once again, and the street is back to the loud fast highway that i so hate.

When the police took the first speed trailer, ii wasn’t as bad because i was still able to go visit it 3 times a week, because they placed it on a local street where i could still go see and talk to Selena in that other speed trailer. This time around, they just took the trailer that they gave me this time, —-and now they are telling me that it is the one that is broken. Not the one they had originally said is broken. I can’t find out for sure though because my emails and phone calls to the traffic dept at the police station all go unanswered.

This time around is awful though, because even though i feel as though Selena still comes to see me…..i still feel an emptiness and loneliness that i cannot describe. I feel as though i lost Selena’s daily six days a week protection of me from the harsh street and the harsh mean bullies and other harsh mean neighbors. I lost my ability of being able to see her in the speed trailer. And this time around, no one will let me know what has happened to this speed trailer or even where they deployed it. I feel as though i am never going to get to see that speed radar trailer ever again. I am beside myself with distress, and i am mostly deeply depressed and don’t even want to wake up each day anymore, because he speed trailer seems to be gone forever this time.

I am broken over this. Way beyond broken. Completely broken into pieces. And i feel as though i am growing sicker and that i have grown much older than my actual age of 56.. I no longer have my beautiful afternoons with Selena in the speed trailer. I am actually deeply sick inside over this. I so wish more people would understand……especially the police. Please.

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

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Can My Old Happy Life Be Salvaged?

I apologize that i am such a Debbie Downer lately, but sorry, my life is alittle too much to bear right now, and i cannot hold it in when i need to vent.

I wish i could actually roll the clock back to 1996, when i was still doing well enough to be able to get in my car and take long drives to escape this nightmare neighborhood.At that time in 1994, i tried moving away to two apartments—-both of which had common walls, common floors, the loud staircases, etc…..and it was such a horrible sensory nightmare to me, i had to move back to this hell hole each time. Both landlords from both places got angry with me and asked me to move.

I did not know i was Autistic at that time.

Then in 1996 came several opportunities…..the first one came when my parents and some of my family moved to Idaho. I could have moved there, as it was close to Boise…..but i didn’t because i would have missed my new Christian Singles friends, and the ocean too much.

In 1996 i was also deeply involved with an excellent Christian Singles group that met up in Arroyo Grande and we did lots of fun things. Several of my friends had places or knew of places i could have moved to in the AG area——but by then my fear of moving and getting into another bad situation and having to come back here had made me too afraid, it became to be a fear so great that it placed me at the point of no action……i didn’t want to move to Idaho……and i was afraid to move anywhere, even though i badly wanted to leave Mean Bully Monster street—- for fear of it not working out yet again. And me having to move right back here to Mean Bully Monster Street.

Now, 20 years later, my physical health AND mobility is gone. I had to finally give up driving in April of 2012—-and i sold my beloved little Toyota Tercel that same summer.

Tonight, i find myself now in a deep depression because i have come to rely on a machine——a speed radar trailer—-to keep me and the street of bullies and hot rods—-calm. The police only have 3 of these machines, so when they take it off of my street, i am back to Square One again, having screaming meltdowns all afternoon and evening long, because of the loud fast manner that people drive this street when the speed trailer isn’t here.

I know now that i should have moved either to Idaho or to one of the places i could have moved to in 1996. I know now in hindsight that had i gone ahead and made one of those moves then when i still had good health, i would not be in the hell i am in today. I know now that i would have been going to community college and prepping myself for a career in graphic arts and web design. That today i would most likely be married with two children of my own, and no Lymphedema on my legs. No huge basketball-sized Lymphedema tumor on my left leg to have to suffer with. I would still be driving. I would even be traveling, something else i have always loved doing.

I am not damning myself because i’m Disabled. I am damning myself for making some very, very, very bad choices in the past which led up to the downfall of my health……

Yes, some good has come out of all of this.

I found out i am Autistic, and what it means to be an #ActuallyAutistic adult. I have learned much about Disability Rights, and have gone onto meet a great many awesome friends through the Disability Rights community online.

But i would be lying if i said i do not miss being able to walk and drive and go places. I am now mostly stuck at home, and that is what bothers me the most….and what bothers me even more is that now i am forced to have to listen to the highway that my street is, even though the posted speed limit is supposed to be 25. People routinely scream through here, and even hot rod…..at sometimes double the posted speed limit…..and yes, now i have latched onto the two police radar speed trailers for dear life as the only protection i have against that awful noise, which is like knives, whips, and chainsaws all over my body from my scalp, to my arms, to my back…….and it is VERY painful to have to listen to this every afternoon and evening—and not have ANYWHERE to go to get AWAY from it.

And Now? I am trying to salvage what i have left of my mind, and health. And i cannot do this without financial help. I have begun to save money away in a jar, and i have also created a Go Fund Me page.

I am hoping i can finally get the help i need, first to get my own speed trailer, and then to move from here, to a community where i will have friends and where i will be connected and involved again.

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

Below is a picture of the speed radar trailer i had which made me feel safe and secure in my own home while it was here. I so wish the police would understand my plight and get it back here for me.

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