I experienced a lot of rejection between the ages of 9 and 20. I felt rejected by my peers, teachers, and family. In many cases, it was made explicit that I was thought of as inferior. This hurt and it was confusing. I felt cast out by everyone. It seemed as if there was something about me that made people reject me as a matter of course even before they spoke to me. I became bitter. I decided that if everyone rejected me then I would reject everyone. "You can't fire me," I thought. "I quit." What I quit was hope for acceptance, and I quit it in small ways at first. Now I have abandoned that hope entirely. I remain bitter, and I feel alone.
In the 90s, kids in Southern Indiana weren't thinking about autism. If they had ever heard the word, they thought it referred to a child who couldn't speak and screamed a lot. If you seemed weird but you could walk and talk and you didn't look deformed, then you were either gay or stupid. Those were the only two options. Many people assumed I was one of those things. It would be nice to say that things have completely changed since then, but those attitudes are still very much around. I still feel as if I will never fit in anywhere. I don't face anything near the naked cruelty that I did as a child - now that I'm an adult I can choose who I associate with - but I still feel as if there is something about the way I'm put together that makes me impossible to assimilate. I can't integrate. I decided a long time ago that I wasn't interested in integrating because it was impossible. It's a good bet that the reason I feel so alone now is that I decided in my youth to reject everyone. I still see rejection, though. When you're having a normal conversation with someone and you tell then you have an autism spectrum disorder, you can see their demeanor change as they begin talking to you as though you're handicapped. You can feel them putting you in a different box away from all the normal people - away from everyone they want to talk to. You can tell when they go from listening to you to humoring you, and it's very upsetting.
So the rejection is still there, too. It's enmeshed with my bitterness, which seems to perpetuate it.
In the 90s, kids in Southern Indiana weren't thinking about autism. If they had ever heard the word, they thought it referred to a child who couldn't speak and screamed a lot. If you seemed weird but you could walk and talk and you didn't look deformed, then you were either gay or stupid. Those were the only two options. Many people assumed I was one of those things. It would be nice to say that things have completely changed since then, but those attitudes are still very much around. I still feel as if I will never fit in anywhere. I don't face anything near the naked cruelty that I did as a child - now that I'm an adult I can choose who I associate with - but I still feel as if there is something about the way I'm put together that makes me impossible to assimilate. I can't integrate. I decided a long time ago that I wasn't interested in integrating because it was impossible. It's a good bet that the reason I feel so alone now is that I decided in my youth to reject everyone. I still see rejection, though. When you're having a normal conversation with someone and you tell then you have an autism spectrum disorder, you can see their demeanor change as they begin talking to you as though you're handicapped. You can feel them putting you in a different box away from all the normal people - away from everyone they want to talk to. You can tell when they go from listening to you to humoring you, and it's very upsetting.
So the rejection is still there, too. It's enmeshed with my bitterness, which seems to perpetuate it.
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