Do I not have enough proof already

Hello all, I am 52 years old, I am on my way to getting a HFA diagnosis, I write things like this because it has helped me over the years, this is an excerpt from one piece, I will leave a post of one called AUTIE AT FOURTY some where on the site, I hope you all enjoy, regards Hendrow.

DOWN IT PRESSED.

I need to be with my own kind of the same mind, they are not easy to find in this day and time,

 

I need to be understood for my own good, like I thought they would, like I know they should,

 

I need to see what there is to gain, learn to lose the pain, break the chain,

 

Not go insane, see that my life is not in vain, there’s a chemical storm in my brain,

 

I feel like I am nothing just end the pain, cos I am not bluffing,

 

Can you decide what I feel inside, I have lost my purpose and sacrificed my pride,

 

I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I try to cry, but I can’t even weep,

 

I have never known a pain so deep, that makes me wish my heart would not beat,

 

Down in the dirt, boy do I hurt, what is my life worth?

 

You go first it can’t get any worse, prepare the hearse,

 

What I feel is surely real, don’t make a meal,

 

Get on an even keel, whats the big deal,

 

What? Who is faking, what profit am I making?

 

My heart, soul, and mind and body aching,

 

Life-taking, sleep or waking,

 

Man-trapping, kidnapping, what is happening?

 

Strength-sapping, no foot tapping or hand clapping,

 

I am not in to blood letting, I do know though, about sweating.

 

And fretting, friend vetting, betting you deserve the bad you are getting,

 

So when I fell to the ground did it make a sound?

 

It didn't - that’s why there is no-one around,

 

But when I think back, I can’t quite be sure,

 

Am I alone because I won’t answer the door,

 

Won’t open the post, or pick up the phone,

 

Won’t talk to anyone – Why am I alone?

Parents
  • This was written in September 2004, I am still waiting for a diagnosis, I am
    tired of running. What do you think?
    AUTIE AT FOURTY.
    Wow, I’ve just found out that I have always been autie,
    Into this world that’s how life brought me,
    How can you find out you are autistic at fourty?
    I tell you, by surprise that’s how it caught me,
    Don’t worry a full explanation follows shortly,
    So that’s why as a kid I was always so naughty,
    But was it my fault that I felt so haughty,
    Trying to cope with the horrible things life taught me,
    Hey I never made myself, I don’t want to be faulty,
    So tell me, is that a good enough reason to assault me?
    The violence was for my own good,
    But neither of us really understood,
    Maybe you believed that at least I should,
    And if I didn’t, that I eventually would,
    These are the memories of my childhood,
    The hurt and pain, to make me understand,
    Sometimes a belt, a shoe, or your hand,
    Ignorance meant the flames were fanned,
    Trust me, it was more than, just getting your backside tanned,
    It wasn’t sweet love, just bitter or bland,
    Today some ask should this be banned,
    I say yes, all over this land,
    For decades I’ve kept these secrets canned,
    Somehow maybe this was all planned,
    In the end it will all work out just grand,
    It felt like you’d bit off more than you could chew,
    I know you did ‘what you had to do’
    Finally, I can stop blaming you,
    Where you stand dictates what you view,
    Now I have the pulpit, and you’re in the pew,
    I will no longer be punished for the strange things I do,
    You see, I now have much more than a clue,
    That the mistakes made were more than a few,
    No-one can ever tell me that this is not true,
    I still feel I owe you an explanation,
    Being truthful like this gives me a strange sensation,
    Does this not deserve a standing ovation,
    Is this the way to my emancipation,
    Being Autistic, is that my lifelong vocation,
    I accept now, that I may be weird,
    I must learn that change is not to be feared,
    As I realise this thing had not just appeared,
    Do you know what is like to have your emotions seared?
    To have a place in your head where anxiety is reared,
    That grows in intensity when bedtime is neared,
    Away form the normal you’re constantly steered,
    Where your failing is cheered, and you are not endeared,
    You feel as at home with this world, as the lady with the beard,
    When you know what you are will never be revered,
    Some say what about the gift you were given,
    I see no box, no wrapping paper, or fancy ribbon,
    I see a wanna-be, who is a social gibbon,
    Who’d swap it all just be among the livin’
    And to find all those feelings that were so well hidden,
    To have an average mind, to do it’s bidding,
    It can’t happen I’ve been told, so who am I kidding,
    I hope by now that you are finally twigging,
    That from the depths of my soul, is where I have been digging,
    To let you know, to let it show. This schism I’ve been given.
Reply
  • This was written in September 2004, I am still waiting for a diagnosis, I am
    tired of running. What do you think?
    AUTIE AT FOURTY.
    Wow, I’ve just found out that I have always been autie,
    Into this world that’s how life brought me,
    How can you find out you are autistic at fourty?
    I tell you, by surprise that’s how it caught me,
    Don’t worry a full explanation follows shortly,
    So that’s why as a kid I was always so naughty,
    But was it my fault that I felt so haughty,
    Trying to cope with the horrible things life taught me,
    Hey I never made myself, I don’t want to be faulty,
    So tell me, is that a good enough reason to assault me?
    The violence was for my own good,
    But neither of us really understood,
    Maybe you believed that at least I should,
    And if I didn’t, that I eventually would,
    These are the memories of my childhood,
    The hurt and pain, to make me understand,
    Sometimes a belt, a shoe, or your hand,
    Ignorance meant the flames were fanned,
    Trust me, it was more than, just getting your backside tanned,
    It wasn’t sweet love, just bitter or bland,
    Today some ask should this be banned,
    I say yes, all over this land,
    For decades I’ve kept these secrets canned,
    Somehow maybe this was all planned,
    In the end it will all work out just grand,
    It felt like you’d bit off more than you could chew,
    I know you did ‘what you had to do’
    Finally, I can stop blaming you,
    Where you stand dictates what you view,
    Now I have the pulpit, and you’re in the pew,
    I will no longer be punished for the strange things I do,
    You see, I now have much more than a clue,
    That the mistakes made were more than a few,
    No-one can ever tell me that this is not true,
    I still feel I owe you an explanation,
    Being truthful like this gives me a strange sensation,
    Does this not deserve a standing ovation,
    Is this the way to my emancipation,
    Being Autistic, is that my lifelong vocation,
    I accept now, that I may be weird,
    I must learn that change is not to be feared,
    As I realise this thing had not just appeared,
    Do you know what is like to have your emotions seared?
    To have a place in your head where anxiety is reared,
    That grows in intensity when bedtime is neared,
    Away form the normal you’re constantly steered,
    Where your failing is cheered, and you are not endeared,
    You feel as at home with this world, as the lady with the beard,
    When you know what you are will never be revered,
    Some say what about the gift you were given,
    I see no box, no wrapping paper, or fancy ribbon,
    I see a wanna-be, who is a social gibbon,
    Who’d swap it all just be among the livin’
    And to find all those feelings that were so well hidden,
    To have an average mind, to do it’s bidding,
    It can’t happen I’ve been told, so who am I kidding,
    I hope by now that you are finally twigging,
    That from the depths of my soul, is where I have been digging,
    To let you know, to let it show. This schism I’ve been given.
Children
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