A – Z of Autism: A is for Anger

Warning: Post contains mention of child murder and suicide, including graphic talk

You say I don’t want to be cured because I’m “high functioning”

But Autism is the core of me, and you think I’m less autistic than the norm. So how integral does that make autism to those who present it more profoundly?
 
The answer is even more core. If it’s even possible to be more and less Autistic (it’s not), then surely for those who are supposedly more profoundly autistic would have Autism even more tightly ingrained in their being.
 
So if you want to cure those people? The people who are intrinsically linked to being Autistic, potentially more than your average person? What do you think will be left?
 
There is no neurotypical child hiding beneath a sheltering Autism tree. Were you to chop down that tree because you can’t accept it, all that you’d leave behind would be a stump. A dead stump. You would have killed it.
 
But we know you know that. There’s a reason we have a day of mourning for disabled people killed by their caregivers.
 
You don’t think we can become Allistic.
 
You just want the Autistic us gone, and murder works.
 
Neglect works.
 
Alternative medicine works.
 
Applied hard enough, intensive early intervention can even make us do the jobs ourselves.
And that’s what you seem to really want. When you wear your puzzle ribbons and blue-for-the-month hair. You scream “for a cure!” and sometimes you even say you want “solutions.” Both of these dogwhistles mean you want your real child dead and gone.

There is no other child beneath the Autistic one. You can make us act neurotypical, but it should be obvious by our pain that it’s not our true state. I could train my dog to use a litter box, that wouldn’t make him any more a cat just because I prefer cats.

And even if there was some other, neurotypical child hiding beneath, what right do you have to kill the Autistic one? Because wound into every fiber of personality, of love, of intricate passion and broad aversion and everything that makes one, “one,” is Autism. And if you rip out the Autism by some god forsaken means, out comes all that love and fear and promise and hope that makes a person a person, entangled in the roots. And you get a dead child.

And that’s what you want.

Light it up blue, like their lifeless bodies.

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