(The story in this post might be upsetting to some people because it involves trying to pressure someone into taking medication and judging them for not taking it.)
I feel like I shouldn't be posting right now because I should be sleeping and I'll be tired on the way to work, but I feel like I use the excuse of sleeping to avoid almost everything, like church, and I barely sleep anyway so here I go.
"They say an unhappy man wants distractions--something to take him out of himself. Only as a dog-tired man wants an extra blanket on a cold night; he'd rather lie there shivering than get up and find one."--CS Lewis, A Grief Observed
When we were freshmen Clayton and I had a friend, let's call her Annie. I don't know how much of this is 100% accurate but I don't think Annie reads this blog, so it's probably all right to just tell you how I remember it. Annie identified herself in conversations as someone who had a mental illness and sometimes hurt herself, and one day she casually told me that she probably should be on medication because she was at an age when the way her brain was was being solidified and if she didn't go on medication right now, she would always have problems. She told me this like it was funny and she didn't particularly care to do anything about it.
Clayton and I both have savior complexes and we made it a project to try and get Annie to go to student counseling. Never mind that he would later realize how fucked up he had gotten from the medication student counseling put him on, or that I've been virulently anti-medication of any kind since I was 16, to the extent that I would rather throw up from pain than take an Advil. For whatever reason we decided that we were right and Annie was wrong and we had to get her to go to counseling.
It was almost summer; Annie wanted to be outside when it was sunny so she could skateboard and hang out with her friends. Every day the two of us would descend on her and try to get her to go to counseling and she would say that she didn't want to go until it was dark. Student counseling closed at five in the evening so this was the same as saying she could never go. I remember how ridiculous and reckless Clayton and I thought she was, and how much we annoyed her.
Annie and I grew apart over the next three years but she is someone I admire a lot because she's so smart and interested in so many things. Sometimes it seems like she just has to think of something she'd like, and all the resources appear to make it happen. I found her hard to be friends with because she moved so fast--she would suggest doing something, I'd resist it because it went against my schedule, and by the time I started realizing I would like to do it she would already have left to begin it.
The point is though that a year or two ago I started really understanding how I could see Annie's decision as smart, not stupid. It got me through the last year and a half of college, trying to think that way--blinding myself to the big picture, trying to unfocus my eyes and look at seconds and colors. I couldn't do things right and I couldn't feel good a lot of the time so I stopped trying. I didn't fail. When I saw something in front of me that might make me feel good, I took it.
So for a long time I've been on that kind of track and I've realized how hard it is for someone outside to see why you don't listen to "reason." Why you'd rather ride in a car than worry about your problems taking care of yourself. Why you'd rather have fun smoking than figure out if you will let yourself live long enough to die of lung cancer. Why instead of constantly apologizing to yourself and everyone for not being more organized, you're making Kraft Macaroni and Cheese in a huge pot and watching YouTube videos with your roommate.
The thing I feel most clearly now is that it was none of my business what Annie did with her time. I'm not as clear on the rest of it--how being like Annie applies to me and how I should feel about it.
I found myself talking about Annie today. I was trying to argue why it's okay for me to be involved with men even though I am gay. I'm probably going to get upset writing about this because the conversation turned to an end that felt more permanent than usual. I know I was convincing him at the beginning. At some point it wasn't working anymore for me to say "we should live in the moment" and "I don't expect to ever have a family or a relationship with a woman, so we might as well try and feel as good as we can."
And I remembered, a few years ago I would have thought being with a guy was like throwing something in God's face, being too lazy and desperate for comfort to feel anything but the shadows of what I could feel. I would have thought it was the real thing or nothing, and even now it's hurting me to type that it's not the real thing, because I want it to be as good as the real thing when it's with a guy, but it's not and that's not my fault. And the boy wasn't hurt, he's the strangest, nicest boy--he was relieved.
The truth is it's very hard for me to work especially not being a driver, and it's really hard for me to live on my own, and the only people I talk to outside of work are men who try and bother me. Giving up smoking is a serious sacrifice not because of nicotine as much as the fact that I lose a reason people will talk to me. I'm really sad right now. Sorry if this is too much information, but I've been going back and forth on the Annie thing for such a long time, and I wanted to write about it. Not Annie herself because obviously she shouldn't have been on meds when she didn't want to be, but thinking about endgames vs. staying in the sunlight whenever I can.
The thing is I don't know if I ever felt so much this way since I was on meds myself in tenth grade. Every day I'd take stimulants and spend a few hours thinking everything was really special and important, not realizing how much I didn't notice or how fucked up everything had gotten. As the day went on I got sadder and sadder and the only thing that mattered to me was--guess what--the person I was dating, who I wasn't actually attracted to.
Towards the end of the drugs, in some sobbing state, I told my mom I wasn't happy. My mom saw me all amped and buzzed up on the way to school every morning after I downed my Wellbutrin and Adderall. She said, "But I see you happy every day."
I said, "but I'm not a happy person."
I built myself back up through the two depressing but somehow joyful last years of high school. I was a very sad but happy person by the time I turned eighteen. I'm not sure how lazy and distracted I must have gotten, to get so far off track--because yeah I have to look at the small things, but this has gotten small enough to seep into all of them.
I'm not a happy person.
And this is me telling God and myself that I'm going to get better.
05 March, 2012
25 February, 2012
I gave up smoking for Lent and in the middle of my drowsy, headachey Ash Wednesday morning it occurred to me to write about something I've noticed. Basically, some people are weird about smoking. I'm hesitant to write about this because I feel like someone will get offended, so please can you just read this in good faith.
I don't think people should be allowed to nonconsensually expose other people to secondhand smoke, so I am not interested in reading responses about how my argument is invalid because of secondhand smoke. I'm concerned about stuff like employers having a policy of not hiring smokers. If you want to relate it to benefits I can explain why it's not about that. It's also not about having a smoke-free workplace, since that's easy to maintain without not hiring smokers. Clearly, this kind of policy is about a group of people who do something unhealthy.
This subject is a bit close to my heart since I interviewed for my current job 2 weeks before they stopped hiring smokers, and also because I think smoking was a factor in losing my camp job. I didn't break any rules related to smoking, but my supervisors just had a different attitude toward me as a person.
I think it is weird that doing something unhealthy can turn a person into Bad News. When I read articles about places that don't hire smokers, they talk about it like good citizenship--not that they want healthy employees, but that they want employees who are "role models" and "set a good example." In addition to implying that smokers can be identified by sight when not smoking, this attitude equates goodness with striving to be physically healthy. Not that this is a new thing--observe fat hatred, or hatred of any disabled person who doesn't seem to be trying hard enough to not be disabled (i.e. all of us)--but I still think it's interesting.
Smoking is a sneaky subject because it can be categorized as a choice. But it is kind of an illness even if it's a chosen one. If people are addicted, that is an illness. If it's not an addiction, it still results in physical weakness and accelerated death. So I think smoking is cool because it shows you how people feel about sickness without those feelings being camouflaged by the propriety and pity they feel required to maintain when the person "hasn't chosen to be sick."
In American Horror Story, a bully beats up the main character Violet because the girl's grandmother died of lung cancer and Violet was smoking in a public place. I love this scene because I had a less Ryan Murphy version of the same experience. No violence I mean. But I had the sense that someone hated me because someone they loved died from what I was doing.
How does the construction of smokers as "our" enemies make sense? Because we might start liking them and then they might die? Because our grandmother died and we kind of want to beat her up for "bringing it on herself," but we can't because we love her and she's dead, so instead we will treat other people like her in ways we would never have wanted her to be treated?
If someone is to blame for the death of a smoker, and you don't want to blame the individual smoker or settle down to blaming no one, why don't you just blame tobacco companies for making cigarettes delicious and awesome? In theory people who hate smoking would probably say they do blame tobacco companies, but they don't really walk the walk. If smokers are the sheep/pawns of tobacco companies, why should we be denied jobs for something they did to us?
(I don't have anything against tobacco companies but I do think they're the only logical villain if you want to consider smokers victims or feel sorry for us.)
I feel like it's perverse not to care if you live a long time. Well, actually some dangerous things like driving are okay, but there are certain ways of shortening your life that are wrong. Smoking is wrong because it's like smacking God in the face, except atheists are just as offended. I don't know that it's not a more hostile version of the gooey/horrified reactions people have to quicker forms of self-injury. Do we really need ribbons and bracelets to draw attention to the fact that people put sharp stuff inside themselves and It's Serious?
I was going to say something about nonsmokers who have group discussions where they pat each other on the back for not liking the smell of smoke and thinking that people who smoke are dumb (outside of these conversations, some of the same people are totally happy to be around smoke) but this tangent is pulling on me. I feel like conventional self-injury is a bad sign and a bad solution, for me, but I think it is weird that a lot of people would want to gasp and call me a "cutter" (designating me as having a condition that puts me in a whole other class of people, a whole new noun) but wouldn't gasp about me ignoring mental or physical health problems, or not getting enough sleep, which can cause way more permanent damage than just palling around with tape dispensers/soup cans.
But anyway smoking? Probably one of the grosser things in the world but it still bothers me that I feel like it's become kind of this symbol/scapegoat of people who are ill/bad/ill-because-they're-bad. We're like an anthropomorphization of death you can yell at.
Note: I'm not interested in hearing about how you feel when you're around people who are smoking right now or have just been smoking. This post is about attitudes toward smokers that persist even when we currently aren't smoking and/or don't smell like smoke.
I don't think people should be allowed to nonconsensually expose other people to secondhand smoke, so I am not interested in reading responses about how my argument is invalid because of secondhand smoke. I'm concerned about stuff like employers having a policy of not hiring smokers. If you want to relate it to benefits I can explain why it's not about that. It's also not about having a smoke-free workplace, since that's easy to maintain without not hiring smokers. Clearly, this kind of policy is about a group of people who do something unhealthy.
This subject is a bit close to my heart since I interviewed for my current job 2 weeks before they stopped hiring smokers, and also because I think smoking was a factor in losing my camp job. I didn't break any rules related to smoking, but my supervisors just had a different attitude toward me as a person.
I think it is weird that doing something unhealthy can turn a person into Bad News. When I read articles about places that don't hire smokers, they talk about it like good citizenship--not that they want healthy employees, but that they want employees who are "role models" and "set a good example." In addition to implying that smokers can be identified by sight when not smoking, this attitude equates goodness with striving to be physically healthy. Not that this is a new thing--observe fat hatred, or hatred of any disabled person who doesn't seem to be trying hard enough to not be disabled (i.e. all of us)--but I still think it's interesting.
Smoking is a sneaky subject because it can be categorized as a choice. But it is kind of an illness even if it's a chosen one. If people are addicted, that is an illness. If it's not an addiction, it still results in physical weakness and accelerated death. So I think smoking is cool because it shows you how people feel about sickness without those feelings being camouflaged by the propriety and pity they feel required to maintain when the person "hasn't chosen to be sick."
In American Horror Story, a bully beats up the main character Violet because the girl's grandmother died of lung cancer and Violet was smoking in a public place. I love this scene because I had a less Ryan Murphy version of the same experience. No violence I mean. But I had the sense that someone hated me because someone they loved died from what I was doing.
How does the construction of smokers as "our" enemies make sense? Because we might start liking them and then they might die? Because our grandmother died and we kind of want to beat her up for "bringing it on herself," but we can't because we love her and she's dead, so instead we will treat other people like her in ways we would never have wanted her to be treated?
If someone is to blame for the death of a smoker, and you don't want to blame the individual smoker or settle down to blaming no one, why don't you just blame tobacco companies for making cigarettes delicious and awesome? In theory people who hate smoking would probably say they do blame tobacco companies, but they don't really walk the walk. If smokers are the sheep/pawns of tobacco companies, why should we be denied jobs for something they did to us?
(I don't have anything against tobacco companies but I do think they're the only logical villain if you want to consider smokers victims or feel sorry for us.)
I feel like it's perverse not to care if you live a long time. Well, actually some dangerous things like driving are okay, but there are certain ways of shortening your life that are wrong. Smoking is wrong because it's like smacking God in the face, except atheists are just as offended. I don't know that it's not a more hostile version of the gooey/horrified reactions people have to quicker forms of self-injury. Do we really need ribbons and bracelets to draw attention to the fact that people put sharp stuff inside themselves and It's Serious?
I was going to say something about nonsmokers who have group discussions where they pat each other on the back for not liking the smell of smoke and thinking that people who smoke are dumb (outside of these conversations, some of the same people are totally happy to be around smoke) but this tangent is pulling on me. I feel like conventional self-injury is a bad sign and a bad solution, for me, but I think it is weird that a lot of people would want to gasp and call me a "cutter" (designating me as having a condition that puts me in a whole other class of people, a whole new noun) but wouldn't gasp about me ignoring mental or physical health problems, or not getting enough sleep, which can cause way more permanent damage than just palling around with tape dispensers/soup cans.
But anyway smoking? Probably one of the grosser things in the world but it still bothers me that I feel like it's become kind of this symbol/scapegoat of people who are ill/bad/ill-because-they're-bad. We're like an anthropomorphization of death you can yell at.
Note: I'm not interested in hearing about how you feel when you're around people who are smoking right now or have just been smoking. This post is about attitudes toward smokers that persist even when we currently aren't smoking and/or don't smell like smoke.
07 February, 2012
This is just something I've noticed in a few environments. I work in a nursing home right now but I think it also applies to staff who work with people with DDs*. The idea is that if a "client" or other euphemism is rude to you, you can be rude back to them.
Sarah: I don't like you!
Aide: Well, I don't like you either. (turning to other person) Look how obnoxious Sarah is!
Okay, let's take a minute because this is really weird! First of all, the experience of having someone who openly dislikes you come into the place where you live and take care of your personal care stuff has got to be depressing. I can't help but think it just might make someone LESS LIKABLE. It also sounds scary, no matter how principled the aide is about not letting their opinions affect their work.
My personal feelings aside though, this just has nothing in common with how service people act in, like, every other type of job. If you were cashiering and a guy was yelling at you for ringing things up slowly, you would apologize. If you were cutting someone's hair and they started bitching, you would go along with it. It doesn't matter that they're being rude, YOU WORK FOR THEM.
I guess some people would say this is because unlike long-term euphemisms, this kind of customer can take their money away from you at any time. But I don't really think this is the whole thing. Bus drivers are pretty nice and I'm not exactly going to go buy a car if they piss me off. When I worked at my college dining hall I would have gotten in trouble if I'd been rude to someone who was eating there, but they were going to eat there anyway.
Really I think the whole business is more simple. When you are being paid to do things for other people, you put yourself out, because you are working. If you did whatever you felt like it wouldn't be a job. It would be doing something nice for someone because you wanted to.
Probably a lot of people in service jobs like doing nice things for people, and that's part of the reason they chose the job they did. But I think some people who do support work never really separate doing their job from doing something for someone else in real life. They don't do bad work--they really care, and they have good relationships with the long-term euphemisms who meet them halfway. But if someone doesn't meet them halfway, no professional code snaps into place, no "the customer is always right"--there is just this person you have to take care of, just like if you had to take care of your grandma and she was mean. But it's not the same thing! You work for them!
I just think this is creepy because I would be creeped out if I was the long-term euphemism everyone hated and kind of glared at while putting my clothes on and giving me a shower. But it's also just not professional. Sometimes I think it happens because, without really acknowledging it, we recognize that this class of clients can do less to punish us if we piss them off. I don't think this is as consciously selfish as I'm making it sound, but that's one of the things that makes it scary.
*(Actually I think there's an extra thing when it comes to DDs, because staff sometimes have a feeling even if they're working with an adult they are supposed to be shaping/improving the person's behavior in the way they would with a kid. So it's not even that they're being rude in response to rudeness, it's that they actually think doing their job well includes telling a person to say please or think about how the things they ask for affect their staff person.)
Sarah: I don't like you!
Aide: Well, I don't like you either. (turning to other person) Look how obnoxious Sarah is!
Okay, let's take a minute because this is really weird! First of all, the experience of having someone who openly dislikes you come into the place where you live and take care of your personal care stuff has got to be depressing. I can't help but think it just might make someone LESS LIKABLE. It also sounds scary, no matter how principled the aide is about not letting their opinions affect their work.
My personal feelings aside though, this just has nothing in common with how service people act in, like, every other type of job. If you were cashiering and a guy was yelling at you for ringing things up slowly, you would apologize. If you were cutting someone's hair and they started bitching, you would go along with it. It doesn't matter that they're being rude, YOU WORK FOR THEM.
I guess some people would say this is because unlike long-term euphemisms, this kind of customer can take their money away from you at any time. But I don't really think this is the whole thing. Bus drivers are pretty nice and I'm not exactly going to go buy a car if they piss me off. When I worked at my college dining hall I would have gotten in trouble if I'd been rude to someone who was eating there, but they were going to eat there anyway.
Really I think the whole business is more simple. When you are being paid to do things for other people, you put yourself out, because you are working. If you did whatever you felt like it wouldn't be a job. It would be doing something nice for someone because you wanted to.
Probably a lot of people in service jobs like doing nice things for people, and that's part of the reason they chose the job they did. But I think some people who do support work never really separate doing their job from doing something for someone else in real life. They don't do bad work--they really care, and they have good relationships with the long-term euphemisms who meet them halfway. But if someone doesn't meet them halfway, no professional code snaps into place, no "the customer is always right"--there is just this person you have to take care of, just like if you had to take care of your grandma and she was mean. But it's not the same thing! You work for them!
I just think this is creepy because I would be creeped out if I was the long-term euphemism everyone hated and kind of glared at while putting my clothes on and giving me a shower. But it's also just not professional. Sometimes I think it happens because, without really acknowledging it, we recognize that this class of clients can do less to punish us if we piss them off. I don't think this is as consciously selfish as I'm making it sound, but that's one of the things that makes it scary.
*(Actually I think there's an extra thing when it comes to DDs, because staff sometimes have a feeling even if they're working with an adult they are supposed to be shaping/improving the person's behavior in the way they would with a kid. So it's not even that they're being rude in response to rudeness, it's that they actually think doing their job well includes telling a person to say please or think about how the things they ask for affect their staff person.)
25 January, 2012
purple ears
I think autism is a real thing, mostly because I seem to have a lot in common with a lot of other people I know who were diagnosed with autism, especially people who were diagnosed when they were kids. So I guess what I mean is that I think there is a group of people who have a similar disability and often get the same label. But because most professional opinion on autism doesn’t really relate to what my actual disability is like, I kind of don’t think autism is a real thing, at the same time.
It’s kind of like if most gay people had purple ears--not necessarily their whole life, but at some point, maybe when they were a kid. Some gay people would have purple ears their whole lives though. Some gay people would only have purple ears for a minute and it would be hidden under their hair. A few gay people wouldn’t have purple ears ever.
I can see why professionals might get very focused on studying why some people have purple ears, and even why some people might find it important to their identity, and I can even imagine going around and using “purple ears” as a synonym for being gay, especially if being gay took a long time to explain--but this doesn’t mean that purple ears are actually the important thing that’s going on. Being gay is what’s actually going on, and it’s what people with purple ears have in common that’s more permanent and important than the color of our ears.
(Purple ears equals diagnosis of autism or maybe more specifically the kind of surface attributes that lead someone to get diagnosed with autism.)
It’s kind of like if most gay people had purple ears--not necessarily their whole life, but at some point, maybe when they were a kid. Some gay people would have purple ears their whole lives though. Some gay people would only have purple ears for a minute and it would be hidden under their hair. A few gay people wouldn’t have purple ears ever.
I can see why professionals might get very focused on studying why some people have purple ears, and even why some people might find it important to their identity, and I can even imagine going around and using “purple ears” as a synonym for being gay, especially if being gay took a long time to explain--but this doesn’t mean that purple ears are actually the important thing that’s going on. Being gay is what’s actually going on, and it’s what people with purple ears have in common that’s more permanent and important than the color of our ears.
(Purple ears equals diagnosis of autism or maybe more specifically the kind of surface attributes that lead someone to get diagnosed with autism.)
17 January, 2012
I was just thinking about when my dad will touch me in ways I don't like to be touched like putting his arm around me or putting his arm on my back. Without having a clearly defined rubric, I guess my deal is that with most people, what I want from physical contact is something brief--really tight hug and let go, squeeze hand and let go. I don't like to have to go a long time with someone's arm around me, especially if they are bigger than me.
Sometimes I have just sat in movies having my enjoyment of the movie dampened by my dad's arm on my back. Sometimes I have managed to come up with excuses to move away supposedly to do something else but really just to get away from contact. And sometimes especially lately I just immediately move away, stiffen to an extent that my dad can't ignore, pull my shoulders in away from his arm, or shrug him off. When I do those things, it's obvious that I am saying NO.
What I think is interesting is that when I do things that say NO, a)my dad looks offended, and b)my mom tells me, "That was mean."
Even though I am disabled and a woman and those are two groups of people who aren't supposed to say no to touch, I don't really think this happens because I am disabled or a woman, I think it's really normal. But it's kind of messed up and I think people should think more about touch!
Should someone have to accept touch that they don't want, especially for a long period of time? Is it mean to display nonverbally that you want someone to stop touching you? I don't think so.
Sometimes I have just sat in movies having my enjoyment of the movie dampened by my dad's arm on my back. Sometimes I have managed to come up with excuses to move away supposedly to do something else but really just to get away from contact. And sometimes especially lately I just immediately move away, stiffen to an extent that my dad can't ignore, pull my shoulders in away from his arm, or shrug him off. When I do those things, it's obvious that I am saying NO.
What I think is interesting is that when I do things that say NO, a)my dad looks offended, and b)my mom tells me, "That was mean."
Even though I am disabled and a woman and those are two groups of people who aren't supposed to say no to touch, I don't really think this happens because I am disabled or a woman, I think it's really normal. But it's kind of messed up and I think people should think more about touch!
Should someone have to accept touch that they don't want, especially for a long period of time? Is it mean to display nonverbally that you want someone to stop touching you? I don't think so.
11 January, 2012
The Loud Hands Project
hi guys, it's time for the Loud Hands Blog Tour! are you ready?
The Loud Hands Project is a project by the Autistic Self-Advocacy Network, which is being organized by Julia from Just Stimming. You might have seen the video:
(The YouTube page for the video has a visual transcript in the description section. If you can watch the video but don't want to watch it with sound, it still makes sense with the sound off.)
Julia describes Loud Hands as a transmedia project. Transmedia is a word I was not familiar with, but according to Google it means "storytelling across multiple forms of media," which sounds pretty good. The idea as far as I can simplify it is to communicate the pride of Autistic people and support Autistic people in communicating their own experiences, but there are other facets too and Julia describes her aims much more clearly on the fundraising page for the project.
Loud Hands is trying to raise $10,000 for the launch of its website and its first anthology (if you're thinking of submitting to the anthology, you can learn about that here). $7,500 has already been donated, but they still need to make their goal by March 15. As soon as my theoretical job starts I plan on donating a LOT, and if you support the project and can spare the money, I hope you'll consider donating as well. Even if you are only able to donate a few dollars, it still makes a difference.
If you're not able to donate but you have autism, I still really hope that you will think about contributing to the Loud Hands website, and to this or future Loud Hands anthologies. Whether or not you have autism, please try and support the project by telling other people about it who might be able to contribute money or communication.
No matter what you do, please try and live with loud hands at all times.
Love,
Amanda
(and loud feet)
The Loud Hands Project is a project by the Autistic Self-Advocacy Network, which is being organized by Julia from Just Stimming. You might have seen the video:
(The YouTube page for the video has a visual transcript in the description section. If you can watch the video but don't want to watch it with sound, it still makes sense with the sound off.)
Julia describes Loud Hands as a transmedia project. Transmedia is a word I was not familiar with, but according to Google it means "storytelling across multiple forms of media," which sounds pretty good. The idea as far as I can simplify it is to communicate the pride of Autistic people and support Autistic people in communicating their own experiences, but there are other facets too and Julia describes her aims much more clearly on the fundraising page for the project.
Loud Hands is trying to raise $10,000 for the launch of its website and its first anthology (if you're thinking of submitting to the anthology, you can learn about that here). $7,500 has already been donated, but they still need to make their goal by March 15. As soon as my theoretical job starts I plan on donating a LOT, and if you support the project and can spare the money, I hope you'll consider donating as well. Even if you are only able to donate a few dollars, it still makes a difference.
If you're not able to donate but you have autism, I still really hope that you will think about contributing to the Loud Hands website, and to this or future Loud Hands anthologies. Whether or not you have autism, please try and support the project by telling other people about it who might be able to contribute money or communication.
No matter what you do, please try and live with loud hands at all times.
Love,
Amanda
(and loud feet)
10 January, 2012
Every few days I think about camp and it starts taking my head apart.
Not because of the stuff relating to ableism and me being disabled, but just because I am not going back there, and can't ever go back there.
This man is an amazing person, who I had the incredible luck of knowing for two weeks, and then for two weeks again.
I will send him letters, because letters are important to him, but I know that he won't associate the name on the letter with me, even if someone tells him the name of the person it is from.
One time he made a drawing and when other staff asked if it was for Amanda, he said no like he was offended, and then he gave it to me and looked at them as if to explain. He's not necessarily an easy person. He is himself. A lot of things make him angry and it's easy for him to feel that people don't care about him if they don't talk to him or write him letters.
I don't understand his speech, so there's a lot I don't know about him. I did understand when he told me his mother was dead.
I used to have the idea of sending him letters with photos in them, but I feel like it's too late.
Not because of the stuff relating to ableism and me being disabled, but just because I am not going back there, and can't ever go back there.
This man is an amazing person, who I had the incredible luck of knowing for two weeks, and then for two weeks again.
I will send him letters, because letters are important to him, but I know that he won't associate the name on the letter with me, even if someone tells him the name of the person it is from.
One time he made a drawing and when other staff asked if it was for Amanda, he said no like he was offended, and then he gave it to me and looked at them as if to explain. He's not necessarily an easy person. He is himself. A lot of things make him angry and it's easy for him to feel that people don't care about him if they don't talk to him or write him letters.
I don't understand his speech, so there's a lot I don't know about him. I did understand when he told me his mother was dead.
I used to have the idea of sending him letters with photos in them, but I feel like it's too late.
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