Tag Archives: Autism

My Autistic Experience: Repetitive and Steretoyped Speech and Language

I’d almost forget it, but this month, I’d actually intended to share my autistic experience for #Write31Days. I failed at the challenge, but that shouldn’t be an excuse not to share my experiences. Today, I’ll talk about speech and language.

I was originally diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome under DSM-IV. Asperger’s is basically autism without an intellectual disability or speech delay. The communication impairments criterion in autistic disorder does not appear in the criteria for Asperger’s. That doesn’t mean Asperger’s people don’t have communication impairments. I could’ve easily met the communication impairment criterion in autistic disorder if I’d been more articulate back when I was diagnosed in 2007. You see, I was asked to name examples of speech and language stereotypies I displayed and could come up with only one, which was dismissed. In truth though, my speech and language can be quite stereotyped.

The most noticeable form of steretoypical language for me is my use of particular words or strings of words in an apparently irrelevant context and/or in a repetitive way. For example, in around 2005, I’d say “Hey folks!” to practically everyone. Later, I also used to say “banana spider” at every opportunity. In time, between my husband and me, it got the meaning to communicate boredom or disinterest. As such, it’s become a kind of script.

My repetitive use of language can be helpful in my interactions with my fellow clients at day activities. My fellow clients are all severely intellectually, often multiply disabled. None of them can speak and many have severely limited comprehension of speech, but they respond with joy to my repetitive use of their names or nicknames in a particular tone of voice.

Speaking of tone of voice, I do not seem to have a monotonous voice, but I do know that my tone of voice can be steretoyped too. For example, I speak to each fellow client at day activities in a different tone when echoing their names.

I rarely if ever experience true echolalalia, in the sense that I’d repeat another person’s entire sentence. I do often find myself repeating one or two words though. I also regularly repeat my own words. Lastly, I do repeat sounds people make.

I have an interesting preference for complicated words over simple ones. Refer back to “banana spider” here. Also, the first word I ever spoke, at ten months of age, wasn’t “Mama” or suchlike, but “aircraft industry”.

Another interesting experience happened at my last psychological evaluation last spring. Not only did I name “Banana spider” as one of the first animals in a naming task, but on the IQ test, one of the questions was who was Mahatma Gandhi. Years back, I’d had the same question on an IQ test and accidentally said that he “fighted” for India’s independence. Now I knew I had to say he “fought”, but again, “fighted” slipped off my tongue. It isn’t that I didn’t know the past tense of “fight” in Dutch, but that the situation elicited this particular brain fart.

I’m sure most people use language in some steretypical ways. After all, the example of steretoypcal language I came up with in 2007, was my frequent use of expletives. That’s not uncommon, which may be why the assessor dismissed it. My use of repetitive language also doesn’t impair me that much and, like I said, it can be an asset. However, that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

Spectrum Sunday

Self-Destructive

So #Write31Days didn’t work out, but not because I couldn’t be motivated to write. The reason was that, on Wednesday, I landed in crisis, took an overdose of medication and had to be taken to the hospital. I spent the night on the internal medicine ward and was medically cleared the following day. However, it took till around 5PM before I could see the consulting psychiatrist. She was a nice woman. I knew her nurse from the other time I’d taken an overdose last July. Nothing much has yet been decided, as the psychiatrist will speak to my CPN on Monday, but I was cleared to go home.

Today, I want to talk about harmful and self-destructive behavior as it happens in various mental disorders. Particularly, I want to relate it to what I assume are my current diagnoses: autism spectrum disorder and borderline personality disorder. Unlike what many people believe, the reasons for harmful behaviors are not either fully due to autism or fully due to BPD.

In autism, self-injury and aggression are common, but are seen as steretypical behaviors. For example, some autistics hit themselves as a form of self-stimulation. However, there is a common behaviorist phrase that says all behavior is communication. As such, autistics often also engage in self-injurious behavior to communicate pain, overload or frustration.

Here is where the lines between autism and BPD become blurry. After all, unlike what is commonly believed, borderlines don’t self-destruct “for attention” or “to manipulate”. Most self-harm to deal with strong emotions that they perceive as overwhelming. Whether these emotions come from within the person themself (as is often the case in BPD) or from external sources of frustration, may seem to be important, but it isn’t. A situation doesn’t make you self-destruct, after all. It’s each person’s choice, within the limits of their mind’s capacity at that particular point.

The reason I took an overdose on Wednesday, isn’t fully clear to me either. I do remember feeling sensorially overloaded with cold. I tried to warm up by going on the elliptical trainer. After all, I needed my exercise too, as I hadn’t worked out all week. I couldn’t find my sneakers or my sports clothes, so I tried for a bit to work out in my regular clohes, except for my vest. I was shivering though and this overloaded me even more. From that point, I don’t rmemeber much. I was feeling rather unreal, though I must’ve had some awareness of what I was doing, as I retrieved medications from various sources. Once the first pill bottle, which was the easiest to find, was down, I didn’t feel there was a way back.

So is this typical borderline behavior? Yes, in that it’s not stereotyped and was rather purposeful. It certainly wasn’t the stereotypical “cry for help” type of BPD behavior though. I didn’t want to call the out-of-hours GP and I had zero interest in being admitted to a mental hospital. I do think I need some more guidance, but not in the sense of somemone providing me emotional nurture.

In the sense of what caused it, it’s more autistic sensory overload and difficulty handling unexpected situations and frustrations. The help I requested when talking to the consulting psychiatrist was of such nature: I need some practical guidance on getting more structure in my day and dealing with unexpected situations. It may be my home support worker could provide this, or I may need my nurse from the assertive community treatment team for this. I also remember just now having discussed with my nurse a prescription phone call. This means that you can call (usually I think a max number of times a week or month) to a psych unit for support if you’re about to go into crisis. I will ask my CPN about this.

My Experience Being on Disability Benefits #Write31Days

Welcome to day 3 in the 31 Days of Autism. Today, I want to wrote about employment or the lack thereof.

I never worked. I didn’t even have a summer job as a teen. I even only babysat for the neighbors once when my sister was ill. When I had to write a resume in college, I put the few barely-active E-mail lists I owned on it, LOL.

When I was seventeen, my parents told me I hd to apply for disability income. I was told it was just to make up for the work non-disabled college students do besides studying. This may be one reason my sister is still a bit jealous, as she never worked and hence didn’t have an income in college (other than her student loan).

I never had any trouble going on disability. I didn’t even have to meet the social security agency’s doctor or employment specialist face-to-face. It was all handled by a simple phone conversation with me and my parents and a few bits of information from my family doctor.

Note that I hadn’t been dagnosed with autism when I was first approved for disability in 2004. Once diagnosed, my support worker wrote a letter to the social security agency informing them of several things: I had been diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, had dropped out of college and had been admiitted to a psychiatric hospital. I probably would’ve had to notify the social security agency that I’m no longer in a hospital, but I don’t know how to go about this.

In 2010, the law on disablity income for people who were disabled from childhood on was revised. I don’t know what was changed, but I heard that at least there was talk of not giving people disability benefits from age 18, instead moving the age threshhold to 27. I wasn’t yet 27 by that time, but maybe those already on disability were exempt. Also, those in institutions were talked of being exempt from this rule, and I obviously was.

In 2015, the Participation Act went into effect. This means people won’t get disability payments if they can do a task that is part of a job (instead of being employable in an actual job), have basic employee skills, can work for at least an hour on end and can work for at least four hours a day. In any case, it’s extremely hard to go on disability now. I was still institutionalized when I received the letter at home saying I had no employment potential. My husband jokes that the letter was full of zeros.

Before I’d received the letter, I had worried incredibly. Now that I checked an explanation of the components of employment potential, I’m worried all over again. A Dutch law firm states: “If you wash the dishes at home, you may have employment potential.” This was nuanced a bit to say that, for example, if you volunteer in a sports club cafeteria doing the washing up, this counts as a task. Interestingly though, I don’t think effectiveness or speed are counted in, but they do play a role in the one-hour and four-hour rules.

Many people I know, even those requiring a lot of support, are not approved for disability income under the Participation Act. I am just so glad I am.

My Experience with Professional Support for Autism #Write31Days

Yesterday’s post in #Write31Days was somewhat inspired by the day 3 question on the 30 Days of Autism Acceptance. The day 4 question asks about family and support. I may have to split this topic into several posts, as it is about both family and professional support. Today, I will talk about professional support.

I have been in the care system for years. As a child, I was in special education. As a teen, I didn’t get much in the way of professional support, but I sought it back out right after high school by going to a rehabilitation center for the blind. I was still undiagnosed at this point and I don’t think the staff had an idea that I could be autistic.

When I moved to an independence training home after the rehabilitaton program, the staff got to know me better and got the idea that I may “suffer from” autism. That was how the coordinator called it when she wrote my request for services for once I’d be living independently. I hated that word, “suffer”, but I’ll get to that at some later point.

Initially, the reason my staff wanted me to be assessed for autism was to confirm they were on the right track with their support approach. Obviously they weren’t, as they kept switching approaches and expecting little from me one day, then deciding all my challenging behaivor was attention-seeking and leaving me pretty much to my own rsources the next.

I was diagnosed with autism in March of 2007 and started meeting with a community psychiatric nurse (CPN) in training in April. Her supervisor was a bit of a weirdo, barely having read my records and making his own assumptions about what was going on with me. He was the first to mention impulse control disorder, which I got to be diagnosed with along with autism a year later.

The CPN-in-training herself was great. She gave me lots of coping tools, even though I didn’t fully understand the necessity at first. Unfortunately, as I was moving cities to go to univeristy, I had to stop seeing her three months later.

After being hospitalized, my interactions with nurses and treatment providers were quite varied. I had favorite and not-so-favorite nurses on each unit I stayed on. Particularly, my named nurse on the resocialization unit was great. So was the head nurse at that unit, who acted as a step-in named nurse to me too.

What I found the most helpful in a nurse, was if they took the time to really look at my needs rather than at protocols. That was clearly what I missed most at the last unit I stayed on. “Borderlines need to take responsibility,” a nurse – who later became one of my favoirte nurses at that unit – told me when I requested reminders to do my personal care tasks. I know that it wasn’t just that most staff didn’t believe I’m autistic, since they treated another patient with a more established autism diagnosis in a similarly dismissive way.

Now that I’m home, I think most of my staff do a good job of balancing protocols, which of course they have to adhere to, with meeting my needs. For example, my current CPN just reassured me this afternoon that she validates my need to be in a sensory group at day activities. She didn’t even say it’s not in line with my intelligence level.

My home support and day activities staff are great. My husband says it’s a regional thing. It isn’t, because the other day activity place I checked out and the mental health agency’s home support team, both of which are in the same city where I get my day activites, weren’t as accommodating at all.

Autism and Friendship #Write31Days

Welcone to day one of #Write31Days for 2017. This month’s theme on my blog is autism. One of the most characteristic impairments in autism, at least according to diagnostic criteria, is an impairment in social interaction skills. In DSM-IV, the diagnostic manual under which I was originally diagnosed, failure to develop peer relationships appropriate to developmental level was one of the impairmetns under the social interaction deficits criterion. “Peer relatioships” refers mostly to friendships, though I reckon it can refer to romantic relationships in adolescents and adults too. Today, I will discuss how autism impaacts my understanding of friendship.

Many years ago, I read an article by famous autism expert Tony Attwood on the topic of development of friendship skills. A typically developing child starts to develop friendship skills at around age three. They realize that friendship requires some level of turn-taking but their approach to this is egocentric, based on for example sharing of material goods or playing together. When someone asks why a person is the child’s friend, the child at this stage would typically respond: “Because they live next door.”

Children between age three and six are typically at this level. Autistic children (and in a way even adults) typically remain at this level longer. When I was nine, for example, I’d consider someone a friend because they gave me candy. Admittedly, I’m still at this level in a way, though I realize this is inappropriate. For example, when my now husband said that he was in love with me, I wasn’t sure whether to reciprocate it, since I didn’t know whether I liked him just because he was the only one who’d visit me in the psychiatric hospital. Also, I still can’t sem to move away from materialistic aspects of friendship like sharing candy.

At around age six, typically developing children move into the next level of friendship skills, which is based on shared interests and games. When asked why someone is a child’s friend, a child at this stage would say: “Because they let me play the games I want to”, “Because they’re nice to me”, etc. I relate to this level of friendship too.

Another criterion of autism in DSM-IV was lack of social reciprocity. This means that an autistic person doesn’t understand age-appropriate rules of give-and-take. Many autistic people can come across rather self-centered. So do I. For exampel, I rarelys hared candy (here we go again!) in the institution, even thoug I did accept it from others when offered. Give-and-take, however, seems not just based on material things and there aren’t many clear-cut rules for it.

I have a rather literal interpretation of reciprocity: when my husband, for example, gives me something, be it material or immaterial, I have to give him the same back. As such I feel extremely bad about being dependent on my husband for many things, like transportation, food, etc. He says that I give him love in return, but I barely understand the concept of love.

31 Days of Autism Landing Page #Write31Days

Welcome to my #Write31Days for 2017. I’ve not written regularly on this blog, or any blog, in almost 1 1/2 years. With #Write31Days, I’m attempting to change that. For those who don’t know, I participated in this challenge in 2015 on the theme of mental health. It’s a challenge where bloggers write a post every single day for the motnth of October. As such, it’s quite a huge challenge to take on for me – going from four posts a month or so to 31. Please all send positive vibes and have your fingers and toes crossed that it’ll work out – and hopefully give me a boost to blog again more regularly for the months after October.

For this year’s theme, I have picked “autism”. I know, I chose this for the #AtoZChallenge in April and failed, but I didn’t have a diagnosis back then to give me a reason to persevere. I do now. I mean, I know self-diagnosis is valid and, besides, I was formally diagnosed three times before. I had however internalized a lot of prejudice. Since this was the main reason for my not sticking to the #AtoZChallenge, maybe #rite31Days will be more of a success. I hope so.

In 2015, I wrote mostly infmrational posts on topics related to mental health, such as personality disorders. Though I will share the odd informational post in this year’s #Write31Days, I will mostly focus on my own lived experience as an autistic person. I will mostly pick my topics from the 30 Days of Autism Acceptance challenge. There are 32 topics in the challenge, since day 9 and 10 have two topics to choose from. Since I already wrote several posts based on this challenge though, I’ll have to be a little inventive too.

This is my #Write31Days landing page, where I’ll link to each day’s post so you can easily see them in one place. Enjoy.

Blind People Should

A few years back, there was a flash blog event that had autistic bloggers all finish the sentence “Autistic people should …”. I think the reason was to counter the hurtful search suggestions that Google made when people typed in “autistic people should”. I was reminded of this event when I read this weeks #theprompt, which is “should”.

I was also reminded of my own preconceived ideas about what disabled people should. A few days ago, I wrote to a disability support group on Facebook about feeling like I was setting a bad example for the disability community because I don’t work and spent years in an instituton. Shouldn’t I have to explain why I can’t work or live fully independently? The short answer is: no.

I was feeling like I should have a disability label to justify my every need because of what I learned whilst being part of E-mail groups run by the National Federation of the Blind, one of the two major organizations of the blind in the United States. This was in the early 2000s, mostly before I’d been diagnosed with autism. What I learned was that blind people, unless they have severe additional disabilities, which I’ll address later, should be able to achieve as much as sighted people do. For example, we should be able to read at the same speed, get around with a white cane completely independently, go to college (I think I picked up the term “college-bound” there), be employable, etc. I can’t do or be any of these things. Keeping the bar of expectations high was the motto of the parents’ organization of the NFB or so it seemed. I always imagined a candy bar put up on a star light years away and me being told to reach for the stars.

Sometimes, when people judged blind children or adults they only knew through newspaper articles not to be independent enough, someone would come up with the get-out-of-jail-free pass: “Maybe the person has additional disabilities?” This is a real possibility, since strangers usualy assume my every impairment is due to blindness despite my additional disabilities, so I assume newspaper reporters are no different. Yet does it matter? Should it? Apparently, sometimes.

In an old (like, late 1990s) issue of Future Reflections, the NFB’s magazine for parents of blind children, a blind adult reported his shame when he crticized parents of blind teenagers for not taking their teens to a seminar on independence. It turned out he was speaking to a roomful of parents of teens with multiple disabilities, so obviously they couldn’t bring their teens. I assume most of these teens had the type of disability that seems to have a monopoly on the term “multiple disabilities” when additional disabilities are involved: severe intellectual disability. After all, when I played the additional disabilities card after my autism diagnosis in 2007, I was told to look up Temple Grandin.

I may sound bitter and I shouldn’t be. After all, I do get the services I need now, even though they cater to, well, people with severe intellectual disabilities. That being said, I know I’m incredibly privileged now to have found my particular care agency, because most others would try to fit me into the mentally ill mold or the blindness mold or any other not-completely-fitting mold rather than looking at my needs.

This all brings me to my point, which is that blind people, autistic people, any kind of disabled people, any kind of people in fact, should not have to justify their needs. We are all human and all different, after all.

mumturnedmom

Psychiatric Diagnoses I’ve Been Given

I just checked out the “30 days of mental illness awareness” challenge and was inspired to write a timeline of my mental health. Then I realized I already wrote it in 2015. Another question in the 30-day challenge though is what you’re currently diagnosed with. Seriously, I don’t know what exactly my current diagnosis is. I know what the university hospital psychologist diagnosed me with, but I am not sure the psychiatrist at my current community treatment team agrees.

I’ve had a lot of diagnoses in the past. I’ve had even more suggested diagnoses that never made it into my file. Today, I will write a list of the diagnoses I’ve had. I will comment on them too.

1. Autism spectrum disorder. I was first diagnosed with this twice in 2007, then again in 2010. I lost my diagnosis in 2016 and was rediagnosed in 2017. This is the only diagnosis I’m pretty sure of that I agree with 100%. It’s the only diagnosis that I’ve been given through a proper evaluation (several, in fact).

2. Adjustment disorder. This was my diagnosis upon admission to the mental hospital in 2007. I didn’t meet the criteria for depression or any other serious mental health condition but needed care anyway. I was at the time fine with that diagnosis and think the crisis team psychiatrist who made it, did a pretty good job of assessing me.

3. Impulse control disorder NOS. I was never told why I got this diagnosis. I just found it on my treatment plan in May 2008. Probably, it was a replacement for the adjustment disorder, which you can only have for six months once the stressor that caused it goes away. I never agreed with this diagnosis and didn’t really take it all that seriously.

4. Dissociative identity disorder. This was diagnosed in November of 2010 and was probably the most controversial diagnosis I’ve ever had. I wasn’t properly assessed for it and my psychologist at the time took what I told her almost at face value. I never believed deep down that I met the full criteria for this. I mean, yes I do have alters and I do have pretty bad dissociative symptoms sometimes, but amnesia is the exception. I find this terribly hard to admit but I do have to acknowledge this diagnosis was in part based on (self-)suggestion. I do believe, like I said, that I have some dissociative symptoms.

5. Post-traumatic stress disorder. I got this diagnosis together with the DID. I don’t really know why. I mean, yes, I did (and still do) have some symptoms, but I’m not sure I have nough and I never reported more than I actually had. I did get some assessment for this. I do currently believe I definitely do have some PTSD symptoms, particularly complex PTSD symptoms. Then again, there is a lot of overlap with borderline personality disorder traits.

6. Borderline personality disorder. This was diagnosed in 2013 and replaced DID and PTSD. It was later “downgraded” to BPD traits. I do agree I have BPD traits, but I am more the quiet borderline type.

7. Dependent personality disorder. I was given this diagnosis in 2016. Never quite agreed with it, except in the sense that I could be led to believe I had every disorder that was ever suggested to me.

8. Depression. This was diagnosed in 2017 by the university hospital psychologist. I had previously been diagnosed with depressive disorder NOS, but that, according to my psychologist, was only because a diagnosis on axis I (anything other than a personality disorder) is required for treatment. I admit I was pretty badly depressed in the months that I had my assessment at the university hospital, but am not sure it was bad enough for a diagnosis. I mean, I didn’t meet the criteria in 2007, so how could I meet them in 2017? I’m assuming my current psychiatrist removed that diagnosis.

“Just Blind”: My Experience With Passing and the Resulting Burn-Out

Last May, I wrote my first post in the 30 Days of Autism Acceptance. I never followed through with the rest of the challenge, but today, I’m inspired to write on the day 2 topic, which is passing and autistic burn-out.

There is a lot of societal pressure to look and act as “normal” as possible. Passing is the situation where people who don’t belong to the “normal” majority appear as though they do. This may refer to disabled people appearing non-disabled, but it also refers to people of racial minorities being perceived as white or to queer people being perceived as straight.

I never fully passed for non-disabled, because I’m blind, but I did try to pass for a long time. People however often could tell that I had some kind of disability even if they couldn’t tell what it was. Interestingly, besides not passing for sighted, I don’t believe I could ever fully pass for neurotypical, except to those who believe an autistic appearance is normal for blind people.

In addition to appearing normal, disabled people are also pushed to achieve those things that are deemed “normal” in society. That is, except when you look so obviously disiabled that people judge you to be too “low-functioning” for that, in which case they usually greatly underestimate your abilities. I may write about that at some other point. There is a lot of pressure even from within the disabled community to perform as well as non-disabled people do. I see this particularly in the blind community, except, once again, when a person is seen as severely disabled enough not to need to achieve.

Until I was twenty, I was almost universally perceived as “just blind”. Oh and presumably extremely intelligent. As such, I had to perform according to my intelliigence, so I had to go to a mainstream, high-level secondary school. All my problems there were chalked up to either my blindness or my high intelligence.

At age twenty, I resided in an independent living training home for the disabled, which had originally been set up specifically for the blind, so most staff had some expertise on blindness. It was there that it first became apparent that I’m not “just blind”. I was referred for a diagnosis and diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder in March of 2007. Eight months later, while living independently, I completely fell apart. I experienced autistic burn-out. Yet many people still see my diagnosis, my burn-out and my subsequent voluntary admission to a psychiatric hospital, as an elaborate way for me to manipulate people into giving me care.

I never fully recovered from my burn-out, in the sense that I went back to living a “normal” life for a person who is “just blind”. I was in college in 2007. Now, even though I’m out of the institution, I have no plans of going back to full-time education or finding a paid job. Though I may want to attend some part-time education or do volunteer work in the future, I’m now happy to be at a day center doing sensory activities. I am also glad that I was finally approved for home support yesterday.

In this sense, I did in fact recover from my burn-out. I mean, I did not return to the life that essentially caused me to burn out, but I do think my life is meaningful. In fact, I am happier now than I was when I still passed for “just blind”.

Ten Things You May Not Know About My Disability Experience #SEND30DayChallenge

Today I discovered the #SEND30DayChallenge, a 30-day special needs and disabilities blogging challenge. I have participated in way too many 30-day challenges and there’s not one I’ve finished. However, they’re usually just meant to inspire people to write about certain topics. Most people I know don’t follow these challenges over 30 consecutive days.

The first topic in the #SEND30DayChallenge is “the meaning beheind your blog name”. I have a pretty self-explanatory blog name, so I’m not writing about this. Instead, I’m going with the day 2 topic, which is “10 things you don’t know about ___”. Here are ten things you may not know about my disability expierence.

1. I am multiply-disabled. One common myth about multiple disabilities is that the term should refer only to those with an intellectual disability combined with a mobility impairment. I do have a slight mobility impairment, but I don’t have an intellectual disability. However, I am multiply-disabled nonetheless. I am, after all, blind and autistic and mentally ill and have some other difficulties.

2. I struggle with seemingly easy things while I find seemingly diffcult things easy. For example, I can work a computer but not put peeanut butter n a slice of bread. Similarly, due to the variability in my energy level, executive functioning and mental health, I can do some things one day but not the next.

3. You cannot always tell why I have a certain difficulty. Neither can I. This is hard, because people often want to categorize and label things that are out of the ordinary.

4. I have difficulty with communication sometimes. I don’t just mean non-verbal communication, which would seem logical because I’m blind. I mean speech too. I am usually verbal, but lose my ability to speak coherently (or sometimes at all) under stress.

5. I have serious sensory issues. For instance, I find certain sounds incredibly overwhelming. I also seem to have sensory discrimination issues, like with understanding speech in a crowded environment. The worst bit about my sensory issues is that I don’t always notice which is bothering me. For example, I may be hungry but not notice it because there’s a radio in the background that catches my attention.

6. I have slight motor skills deficits. Whether these are diagnosable as anything, I do not know. People on social media often urge me to seek a diagnosis, as my parents either weren’t given a diagnosis or don’t care. However, I find this incredibly stressful and difficult.

Just today, I considered buying myself a white walking stick. They’re sold at assistive equipment stores for the blind. I after all usually use my white cane more as a walking stick and the white walking stick would still signal people to my blindness. However, as much as I seem comfortable invading Internet spaces for mobility-impaired people, I don’t feel so comfortable getting assistive devices for this reason.

7. I am blind, but I still can see a tiny bit. I have light perception only according to eye tests. This’d ordinarily mean I’m functionally totally blind and I usualy say I am. However, I can see such things as where windows or open doors are located. This sometimes confuses people, but in reality, most people who say they’re blind have a tiny bit of vision.

8. I exhibit challenging behavior. This is not willful misbehavior. Rather, it is a response to overload or frustration. I am learning better coping skills.

9. I am more than my disabilities. I have summed up most of my recognized challenges in the above points, but like every human being, I have my strengths and weaknesses.

10. I don’t have special needs. I just have needs. I mean no offense to the special needs parenting community, as I know they don’t mean to offend me. My point however is that, if we see the needs of disabled people as somehow more “special” than those ordinary needs that non-disabled people have, we may forget that not all our needs are explainable by disabilities and we don’t need to have a recognized disablity to justify our needs. We’re all human, after all.

You Baby Me Mummy
Spectrum Sunday