Dyslexiacore Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Dyslexiacore Emojis & Symbols “Neurodivergent Umbrella”*Beneath the umbrella, i

“Neurodivergent Umbrella”* Beneath the umbrella, it lists: ADHD DID & OSDD ASPD BPD NPD Dyslexia CPTSD Dyspraxia Sensory Processing Dyscalculia PTSD Dysgraphia Bipolar Autism Epilepsy OCD ABI Tic Disorders Schizophrenia Misophonia HPD Down Syndrome Synesthesia * non-exhaustive list

Related Text & Emojis

As a neurodivergent person I find emojicombos.com a favourite site. I also write here to make others happy and to make stories inspired by events similar to my experiences, so I can come back to them on any device to. Also, I hope any person reading has a great day! -NeuroFabulous (my search NeuroFabulous)
Hi, friends! I like emojicombos.com because it’s easy for me to use, being public domain. I also like to express myself through writing, as an author with Autism. So thank you Emoji combos and keep it up!
💙 Most kids with ASD are either hypersensitive or hyposensitive to stimuli like noises, lights, touch, etc. If someone has Autism and/or PTSD, he/she may be more prone to sensory overload and startle more easily. That means there’s not much information about how typical treatment methods can or should be adjusted for patients with ASD. According to this article, a nurse could… Offer home-based services Use more visual aids, such as gradient scales to describe degrees of emotion Keep appointment times regular and predictable as much as possible Provide sensory toys or allow children to bring their own Emphasize the possibility of a “happy ending” after trauma―​“this correlates well with the documented effectiveness of social stories, narratives and role-playing in therapy involving individuals with ASD” Be mindful of how often society dismisses the emotions of autistic people Involve other trusted caregivers …and more. Essentially, the therapist should keep the child’s unique strengths and limitations in mind at each step and be open to flexibility. Remember to… Not take behavior personally Be willing to listen without pressuring him/her to talk Identify possible triggers and help him/her avoid them Remain calm and understanding when he/she is emotional Let him/her make age-appropriate choices so he/she feels in control of his/her life Be patient 💙
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😷 Before beginning trauma-focused therapy it is important to stabilise the individual with emotional coping strategies and creating feelings of safety. Support strategies that have been found to be helpful in the general population include: mindfulness and grounding in the present moment creating feelings of safety (for example an object/picture that symbolises safety) sensory soothing Autistic people may require: a greater number of sessions a longer or shorter duration to each session regular breaks. 😷
😷 Treatments should be appropriately adapted for autistic people and their individual needs. (Rumball et al. 2020) and Kerns et al. (2022) suggest a number of other events that autistic people found traumatic: abandonment by/loss of a loved one (for example a family member, pet or support staff) sensory experiences (for example fire alarms) transitions and change (for example school transitions, routine changes with the seasons, unpredictability in day to day life) social difficulties and confusion (for example difficulties interpreting social cues, misunderstandings and conflicts) events related to one’s own mental health difficulties (for example psychotic experiences). Autistic people may also be more likely to find these experiences traumatic due to autistic characteristics such as: sensory sensitivities communication and social interaction differences distress around changes to routines distress if prevented from taking part in repetitive and restricted behaviours such as stimming. Some theories suggest that other factors associated with being autistic, may mean an increased risk of developing or maintaining PTSD symptoms But just because symptoms aren’t crippling doesn’t mean you're not affected. 😷
😷 https://about.kaiserpermanente.org/health-and-wellness/our-care/exploring-the-promise-of-at-home-cervical-cancer-screening 😷
Why autistic people are like cats: - We are highly sensitive. - We don't like loud or sudden noises. - We are easily spooked and startled. - Especially because we are zoning out, like, all the time. - We love to be held and touched and petted and cuddled bUT ONLY IF IT WAS OUR IDEA! - We're picky eaters. - Easily distracted. - Solitary creatures. - Takes us a while to warm up to people and be comfortable around them. - Our idea of being "social" is just hanging around the vicinity or in the same room as other people but not necessarily interacting with them. - We are finicky, particular, meticulous creatures of habit and we have a comfort zone we will defend with our lives. - If we deem you worthy, you will be allowed into our comfort zone. - Gaining our love and trust is super rewarding because it is not easily done. Be flattered. - If you touch us unexpectedly we will flinch or jump. - We are awesome predators and get super intense about stuff one nickname for the ADHD gene is "the hunter gene") - We are cute and lovable and have a lot of personality. - Many autistic children love to feel enclosed and secure and so love secret hiding places and cubby holes (i.e., "if I fits, I sits") - We sometimes appear to freak out at nothing and scamper away for no reason but really it's because we can hear things you can't and some sounds bother us. - Because we have such hyper-sensitive senses, any snuggles you give us will be a million times more rewarding for you because you'll know and appreciate just how intensely we're enjoying them. - Please give us food or we will boop your nose in your sleep.
TIPS For CHECKs Feel the instruments and get comfortable with them. Ex: at the dentist, you’re weary of the suction straw. If no plastic cups for rinsing, ask them for some or, have them turn the suction on a low setting and feel it with your finger before they use it in your mouth. Perhaps they can put something on if you don’t like the sucking noise. See how you feel with the specific doctor. Ex: Dr. A seems hurried and strict, but Dr. B seems more empathetic. Or perhaps ask if a nurse can be in the room with you to. Try having the doctor teach you how much you can do. Ex: for a strep throat test, ask if you can swab your own throat, even have them hold your hand whilst you do it in a mirror. Or tell them the way your throat’s structure may find it easier to tilt, etc. (my search NeuroFabulous)
😷 https://neurodivergentinsights.com/misdiagnosis-monday/ptsd-and-autism 😷
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🔪☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ sprinkling some fairy dust on the feed for my mentally ill & disabled girlies who may be struggling or having a hard time rn ༺♡༻ /)__/) Ƹ̵̡\( ˶• ༝ •˶) /Ʒ o ( ⊃⊃) *⛥*゚・。*.ੈ ♡₊˚•. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ # 🔮
ℑ𝔪 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣. 💀
hopefully my writing posts help ppl to feel understood or at least get a glimpse of all the possibilities neurodiverse ppl may experience (: (my search NeuroFabulous)
ㅤ🔐 ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘⡣🧠ㅤ𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤 𝖨𝖲 𝖬𝖸 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖣?ㅤ║▌│█ ║▌
💙 https://neurodivergentinsights.com/misdiagnosis-monday/ptsd-and-autism 💙
"disabilities aren't aesthetic" Yes, but you don't need to say this under the posts of disabled people showing off cute mobility aids, decorated med organisers, a cute bed set up, the art piece that represents their disabilities, etc. Whether theyre your fellow disabled folk or especially so if you're able-bodied/neurotypical, allow disabled people freedom of expression and the little joys they can. People cope with their disabilites in diverse ways, and sometimes that means you will see a disabled person romanticizing their life, or making their aids aesthetic. Someone existing and expressing themselves, making their lives more comfortable and enjoyable, should not be seen as ”glorifying” anything. I’m not telling anyone to go make themselves disabled, nobody should take their health for granted.
Info tips for practitioners w/ autism and/or sensitivities First, thank you for caring. Not trying to question your expertise in health. Now, Autism is a spectrum. It’s not something one can turn off. It’s not a choice. Most of us are not trying to be demanding. If any thing, we’re afraid of being seen as childish, picky, high maintenance, bossy, rude, etc. We can easily get overwhelmed. We want to compromise with you. If we ask for another nurse to do something or if we know we cannot handle a procedure without certain accommodations, it’s not personally attacking against you. You have the power to provide the care and provide us any options; individuals know their own personal tolerance and needs. We do not ever want to start arguments. We do not want to inconvenience you over something, as we do not feel entitled. Having sensitivities not by choice, as it is more than inconvenience but also painful. We always feel when you do your best. We’re both human, autistic or not. It is not a choice.
| ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄| | I love my friends a lot, | | I just suck at talking | | to them regularly | |___________| (\__/) || (•ㅅ•) || /   づ
BENEFITS TO EMBRACING NEURODIVERSITY IN Schools @MeS. SPEECHIEPO CREATES INCLUSIVE LEARNING ENVIRONMENTS Neurodiversity affirming teaching strategies allow ALL students, regardless of neurotype to be accepted, valued, and supported. IMPROVES ACADEMIC AND LEARNING OUTCOMES Neurodivergent students often excel academically when their individual learning styles are accommodated and their strengths are nurtured. ENHANCES SOCIAL INTERACTIONS Neurodiverse i.e. BOTH Neurotypical and Neurodivergent) students have opportunities to interact with peers of varying neurotypes, fostering social skills and relationships, empathy, understanding, and acceptance. REDUCES BULLYING AND STIGMA Directly teaching about differences and embracing neurodiversity reduces bullying and stigma, creating a safer and more welcoming school environment for ALL students. PROMOTES A VARIETY OF STRENGTHS AND INTERESTS Schools can identify, promote, and celebrate the talents, strengths, and interests of ALL students, whether in academics, arts, or other areas to make everyone feel valued, respected, and accepted. OMeS SPEECHIEPO
Going into Hospital When you are suddenly needing to go into hospital it can be scary, and the last thing people want to do is think about what they need to take with them. For this reason we have compiled this list to help you prepare. Comfortable/ Loose fitting clothing Several pairs of underwear Thick socks Ipad/Tablet/ Ipod w/ earphones Money Sanitary pads Mobile phone and charger Food to snack on Books/ CD’s/ Magazines Toiletries/ face wipes/hairbrush Own Pillow Clothing for going home Dressing gown and slippers An overnight bag is a good idea (although you may not need this) Heating pad
DOCTORs APPOINTMENTs Before a procedure, get to meet the physician and acknowledge their authority before you mention your sensitivities. Find a way to make a compromise. Even request more time for an appointment if you want to have topical numbing agents wait to work, to discuss alternatives, etc. Before a procedure, look up the physician and/or the clinic website. Find pictures of the inner building and search for FAQ, policies, procedures, reviews, etc. Before a procedure, bring a fully charged phone and any sensory necessities such as plastic cups for water, ice pack, self testing kits, written notes and copies, etc.
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"disabilities aren't aesthetic" Yes, but you don't need to say this under the posts of disabled people showing off cute mobility aids, decorated med organisers, a cute bed set up, the art piece that represents their disabilities, etc. Whether theyre your fellow disabled folk or especially so if you're able-bodied/neurotypical, allow disabled people freedom of expression and the little joys they can. People cope with their disabilities in diverse ways, and sometimes that means you will see a disabled person romanticizing their life, or making their aids aesthetic. Someone existing and expressing themselves, making their lives more comfortable and enjoyable, should not be seen as ”glorifying” anything. I’m not telling anyone to go make themselves disabled, nobody should take their health for granted.
For Employers w/ disabled workers If a person who has a disability wants to work they might have difficulty getting jobs. There are different types of disabilities to varying degrees. First, inform them the expectations of the job. Make sure they know how to do the job as you train. Give warnings (and explain why behind the warning) before resorting to termination, as some people might not under stand what they did wrong. Even if the disability is confidential, explain to coworkers not to give the employee a hard time, without divulging. Don’t touch the employee or their belongings (including any mobility aids) without asking them first. Allow the employee extra time if necessary so as to not overwhelm them. Monitor the surroundings to make sure no harassment takes place, possible barriers to accessibility, etc. Try not to get frustrated if they do something differently than what others might do, such as note reminders, etc.
What’s disabilities? Being disabled can have various meanings. Physical disabilities are usually more visible. Even so, it might not be readily apparent. One individual can have more than one disability. But it’s not by choice, even in an elective amputation, mental disorders, ptsd vía warfare, etc. Some disabilities are more invisible, if internal or having to do with mentality. No matter what disability, it’s important to not have unreachable standards whilst at the same time not be patronising. Some disabilities are from congenital, meaning they were born with it or had their whole life. Some disabilities are acquired later in life such as an external injury they got.
💉 https://news.vanderbilt.edu/2011/09/21/bloodwork-toolkit/ 💉
😷 https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/autism-and-anxiety/201904/medical-visits-and-autism-better-way 😷
😷 https://www.findatopdoc.com/Parenting/When-a-Child-with-Autism-Refuses-Treatment 😷
💙 An Autism Specific Care Plan helps families give hospital staff important information. It tells them how to communicate and interact with the child and keep them safe. Families who use Autism Specific Care Plans feel happier with their care and feel that health care providers are better at working with their child or teen with autism. Hospitals and emergency rooms can also think about making changes to help patients with autism. Small changes can all help lower anxiety for kids and adults with autism. Some of these changes include keeping wait times short, creating a calm space, and playing a movie in the waiting area. Making sure parents are part of all medical care and treated as experts on their child can help both families and staff. Finally, hospital staff can try communicating in the way the patient prefers (talking vs. typing, etc.). 💙
"You're going to be okay," Karen assured Plankton. He clutched her hand. "I'm right here." The receptionist's voice echoed through the large waiting room. "Plankton?" Karen's heart jumped. She squeezed her husband's hand. They walked down the hallway, Plankton's breaths shallow, eye darting around the white, sterile walls. The nurse led them to a small room. "Just a few questions," the nurse smiled, her voice soothing as she helped him in the recliner. The nurse, noticing his agitation, spoke slowly and clearly. "We're just going to take your blood pressure, okay?" The nurse wrapped the cuff around his bicep, her movements gentle. The hiss of the air pump filled the tense silence. "Look at me, Plankton," Karen whispered, her calming gaze meeting his. "Take deep breaths." He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling in a deliberate rhythm. The nurse waited patiently, giving them space. As the cuff tightened, Plankton's eye squeezed shut. The nurse completed her task quickly, her voice steady. "Good job," she said, patting his hand. Karen felt his fear spike, but his grip on her hand remained firm as the oral surgeon walked in. Dr. Marquez nodded at them, his demeanor calm and professional. "Hello, Plankton. I see we're getting ready for your wisdom teeth." He noticed Plankton's tension and turned to Karen. "You earlier mentioned his neurodisability. Is there anything special we can do to help make him comfortable?" Karen's screen lit up with gratitude. "Yes, thank you." She explained his need for calm and his sensory sensitivities. Dr. Marquez nodded thoughtfully. "We can use a weighted blanket to help with that. It provides a gentle pressure that can be quite comforting for some of my patients." He turned to the nurse. "Could you please bring one?" The nurse nodded and left the room. When she returned, she carried a soft, blue weighted blanket they warmed. They placed the blanket over Plankton, the weight evenly distributed. His body visibly relaxed under its soothing embrace. "It's okay," Karen whispered, stroking his antennae. "This will help." Plankton felt the warmth of the blanket, the weight of it pressing down on his shoulders and chest. But it did little to ease his dread. "Thank you, Dr. Marquez," Karen managed a smile, relief washing over her. She knew how important these accommodations were for her husband. The doctor explained the procedure, using simple terms that Plankton could understand. Karen noted how he tailored his explanation to avoid overwhelming details that might trigger anxiety. The anesthesiologist entered, her smile kind. "We're going to give you some medicine to help you sleep," she said gently, "and then you'll wake up without feeling a thing." Plankton nodded, his eye wide. Karen leaned in, her voice low. "You can hold my hand as you fall asleep." The anesthesiologist prepared the IV, but Plankton's grip on Karen's hand grew tighter. Dr. Marquez noticed his distress and suggested a different approach. "How about some laughing gas first?" he offered. "And perhaps a topical numbing agent.." The nurse quickly set up the gas mask, explaining each step. "This will help you relax," she said, placing it over him. "Just breathe normally." The sweet smell of the nitrous oxide filled him, yet he still remained awake. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen said soothingly. "Just keep breathing." He took a tentative breath, feeling the gas fill his lungs. The room began to spin, but not in the scary way he'd feared. It was more like floating. The weight of the blanket now felt like a gentle hug from the ocean depths, a warm embrace from his childhood home. Dr. Marquez waited until Plankton's breathing steadied, each gesture carefully calculated to avoid any sudden movements that might startle his patient. "You're doing great," he assured Plankton, his voice a gentle wave lapping at the shore of his anxiety. "You're almost there." Plankton inhaled another lungful of gas, his eye fluttering closed. The nurse gently began applying the topical numbing agent, her movements carefully choreographed to avoid any sudden jolts. Karen held his other hand, her thumb tracing comforting circles on his palm. "You're safe," she whispered. "I'm here." The gas grew heavier, his mind drifted further from the cold reality of the room. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the weighted blanket now a warm sea of comfort. His grip on Karen's hand grew looser, his breaths deepening. The doctor nodded to the anesthesiologist, who began the IV drip after using the topical numbing agent. Plankton's fear didn't vanish, but it became manageable, a distant thunderstorm rather than a hurricane in his face. His eye closed completely, his body going limp under the blanket. Karen watched as the surgical team moved with precision, their masks and caps dancing in her peripheral vision. The beeping of machines and the murmur of medical jargon filled her ears, but all she focused on was the rhythm of Plankton's breathing. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors and gave a nod. "He's ready," she said quietly. Dr. Marquez took his position, his gloved hands poised over Plankton's now open mouth after removing the gas mask. Karen's gaze was steady, her love and support unwavering as the surgical team moved in unison. The whirring of the instruments began, a soft mechanical lullaby to the background of Plankton's deep, even breaths. The surgery itself was a dance of precision, each gesture a step carefully choreographed to minimize discomfort. The doctor's hands were steady as he removed the wisdom teeth. Karen could see the tense lines in Plankton's face soften under the influence of the anesthesia. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors continuously, ensuring his vital signs remained steady. The nurse offered Karen a chair, but she chose to stand, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. As the surgery progressed, Karen felt the tension in the room ease. The surgical team worked with efficiency, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. Dr. Marquez spoke in hushed tones with his assistants, each word a gentle whisper in the symphony of medical sounds. Plankton's breaths steadied, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor a soothing reminder that he was still with her, that his anxiety had been replaced by the peacefulness of deep sedation. The doctor's instruments continued to dance, a silent ballet of precision and care. The nurse occasionally glanced at Karen, offering a reassuring smile as they suture his gums with dissolving stitches. "Alright, we're all done," Dr. Marquez announced, his voice a gentle interruption to the symphony of beeps and whirs. "Let's wake him up slowly." Karen felt her own heart rate spike as the anesthesiologist began reversing the medication. They removed the IV drip and the nurse wiped Plankton's mouth with a soft cloth, her touch as gentle as a sea anemone caressing his skin. His eye flickered open, unfocused and hazy. He blinked slowly, taking in the surroundings. Karen's screen was the first thing he saw, a beacon in the medical fog. "You're okay," she murmured, her voice the gentle hum of a distant lighthouse guiding his consciousness back to shore. Plankton blinked again, his vision swimming into focus. The weighted blanket was still wrapped around him, the comforting pressure now a grounding reminder of her presence. His mouth felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else. The nurse offered him water, and he sipped it slowly, feeling the coolness soothe his throat. "How do you feel?" Dr. Marquez asked, his voice a soft wave breaking over the shore of Plankton's awareness. Plankton nodded, his grip on Karen's hand firm. "Good," he managed to murmur, his voice thick with the aftermath of the anesthesia. Karen could see the relief in his eye, the storm of fear now a distant memory. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )
𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑏𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡 ౨ৎ
~ Considering your sensory needs- pack a bag with sensory aids such as headphones, earplugs, coloured glasses, stim tools, ice, comfort items and so on to support your comfort whilst at your appointment. Considering your communication needs- perhaps take a trusted friend or family to support with verbal communication, a hospital passport that you can share with staff or notes including scripted comments or responses that you can refer to during the appointment as verbal speech. Wear suitable clothing or dress that can be easily taken on and off. To minimise uncertainty, research what is involved in the procedure before attending so that you have a good idea what to expect. Write out a list of questions to avoid relying on memory during a potentially stressful experience. Plan your travel route in advance and leave plenty of time to get to your appointment to minimise anxiety and allow time to adjust to the environment upon arrival. Engage in calming, grounding techniques prior to the appointment start time. During: whilst at the appointment it may be helpful to ~ Ask for the nurse practitioner to talk you through the procedure in full before it commences, preferably with use of images or demonstrations with relevant equipment. Be open about which aspects of the experience you might struggle with as an Autistic person and request particular adjustments. Engage in grounding techniques such as mindful breathing. Hold on to a stim object that is comforting or acts as a stress reliever. Listen to music to support self-regulation. Share your concerns or worries with the nurse practitioner to invite reassurance or helpful advice. Remember your reason for attending and why it is important for you. Aftercare: following the procedure, it is a good idea to plan in some time for self-care and self-regulation, some ideas might include ~ Get yourself into a sensory safe space where things feel predictable and calm (for e.g. a quiet room with dim lighting, weighted blanket etc). Arrange to debrief/chat to a friend or another supportive person about your experience after leaving your appointment. Arrange to meet with a trusted person following the procedure to support you with getting back home or perhaps to do something you might enjoy together. Engage in your dedicated interest. Acknowledge your achievement in attending and getting through the appointment. Journal about your experience to help with emotional processing. Engage in your favourite stim to release any tension that may remain in your body. Allow yourself to physically rest or sleep once back at home.
NEURODIVERSITY Neurodiversity is the concept that insta: anthonymakessomeart differences in brain development, such as "Neurodivergent" is used to describe people who have different, or atypical, autism and adhd, are natural differences brain development, while "neurotypical" that should be accepted, like differences is used to describe people who have in hair texture or eye color. typical brain development. They are different, but equally deserving of acceptance and respect! The concept of naturally diverse brains is important to neurodivergent people because not only does it encourage acceptance from other people, but it encourages us to accept ourselves. It helps us to see that even though we are different, there is nothing wrong with us. It can also help neurodivergent people get the support they need, since accepting that everyone's brain functions differently means accepting that everyone needs help in different areas.
Anonymous asked: autism culture is feeling like a nuisance when you’re overstimulated because you don’t want to be mean to anyone or have a meltdown but you can’t keep masking and everything is too much
Anonymous asked: Undiagnosed autism culture is your family can't comprehend that you are also autistic because you have a family member that was diagnosed as a child and has different support needs than you.
Everyone is NOT a little bit autistic. The Autistic Teacher Using the phrase "everyone is a little bit autistic" can be problematic for several reasons... Minimisation of the Challenges Autism is a complex neurotype that affects individuals in various ways. By saying "everyone is a little bit autistic," it trivialises the challenges and differences faced by those who are autistic. Stereotyping and Misunderstanding Autism is not just about being introverted, having social quirks, or being detail-oriented. It encompasses a wide range of challenges in communication, differences in behaviour, and sensory processing that are unique to each autistic individual. Lack of Understanding and Awareness Such statements can perpetuate misconceptions about autism and hinder efforts to create a more inclusive and supportive environment for autistic individuals. Invalidation of Experiences Autistic people have distinct experiences and struggles that should not be dismissed or equated to common personality traits found in everyone. Promoting Stigma Comparing personality traits to a complex neurotype can reinforce stereotypes and stigma associated with autism. Instead of using 'everyone is a little bit autistic', it's important to respect the diversity and individuality of autistic people and educate ourselves and others by listening to actually autistic voices. The Autistic Teacher
❤️ make a list of notes for docs such as accommodations. have ready to know to bring. run the pace of the appt.
Anonymous asked: autism culture is trying to isolate yourself because you're getting overstimulated but people keep coming in to talk to you and then get mad when you lash out. like omg im TRYING to "calm down" just give me a minute
Autistic and Being Startled Easily... @neurodivergent_lou Autistic people may struggle with being startled easily, whether that be by a sudden phone call or someone walking into a room. This is something that autistic may experience more intensely than non-autistic people for a variety of different reasons. Autistic people may be 'startled' easily due to hyper-sensitivity to sensory input. For example, for autistic people noise may feel increasingly amplified. The sound of someone coming into a room can be incredibly startling and sudden. Sensory overwhelm isn't necessarily just about the noise itself but can also be related to the layers of sound or unpredictability of it, As autistic people, we may struggle with feeling on edge a lot of the time and being in 'fight or flight mode'. For example, the world can generally feel unpredictable and we may have repeated past experiences of being misunderstood (e.g. due to autistic communication differences). This feeling of being on edge can contribute to being easily startled. It also feels related to how autistic people experience focus and attention. Autistic people may have a tendency toward hyper-focus and getting almost lost into a subject of interest. We may also end up deep in thought or dissociate. This can mean that someone coming into the room can feel particularly disruptive. The shift in attention can be difficult too. One minute your attention is absorbed in a certain thing and then suddenly a person walks in, makes you jump and shifts your attention completely. The theory of monotropism suggests that autistic minds tend to have their focus pulled more intensely towards a smaller number of interests at any given time, leaving less processing resources for other things. Another part of this is waiting to potentially be startled and the stress of waiting for this. For example, if we are waiting for a phone call, it can be stressful anticipating a sudden loud noise. It can make us feel on edge and unable to do anything else.
Autistic Masking The Autistic Teacher What is Autistic Masking? Masking is when we suppress or hide our feelings, needs, behaviours or another part of ourselves in order to fit in with those around us. Sometimes referred to as camouflaging. Everyone masks to a certain extent... but autistic people often have different social norms and so there is increased pressure and judgement from those around. An autistic person can mask so much that it becomes harmful to ourselves. We can spend our lives masking and hiding our real selves. Suppressing Some behaviours that we find soothing or help us to regulate can be considered a bit 'weird' and so many Autistic people suppress these 'stims' Making eye contact can be uncomfortable, even painful for some autistic people, but we might force ourselves to be uncomfortable to try desperately hard to appear to fit in, even to our detriment. Suppressing Most common for me is hiding my sensory discomfort. This could be staying somewhere that is too bright, too loud, too hot... because I'm trying really hard to cope and be like everyone else. But unfortunately it can take it's toll and can result in a meltdown, shutdown or burnout. Sometimes if you are feeling really shy you can force yourself to be out there and talking to people. But it's draining. Exhausting. Reflecting I have become very good at watching people and reflecting their behaviour. This too is masking. I might learn scripts... planning how a conversation might go and thinking about the correct responses. I watch and listen to what kind of behaviour or language is acceptable so that I can fit in. This might include suppressing the desire to infodump and tell them all about my current hyper focus or special interest. The Effects Autistic people who mask more show more signs of anxiety and depression. It's exhausting, draining...and people mask for so many years that they begin to lose their identity. Masking can lead to Autistic burnout and a mental health crisis Understanding and Acceptance Understanding and acceptance of neurodivergent behaviours and differences by neurotypical individuals is key. This would lessen the need to mask! As neurodivergent people, we can also be aware of masking and how it effects us. Knowing this and being kind to yourself, allowing some time to be your authentic self and recover is absolutely vital in protecting your own mental health.
NEW TO AUTISM OR POSSIBLE AUTISM DIAGNOSIS? OMeS SPEECHIE POS First Unlearn (almost) EVERYTHING you know about Autism and start FRESH! Autism is MORE than stereotypes! Autistic people can: Speak, be friendly, make eye contact, play creatively, be intelligent, enjoy hugs, go to college, tolerate different sensory sensations, respond to their name, get married, have friends, have jobs and careers, and more! Autism is a Pattern of Differences: Language: : Loe Take and Talking, may struggle saying wants/needs • Delay or decreased use of gestures, pointing, body language • Echolalia & scripting after age 2.5 • Uses words or phrases repeatedly/often • High pitch, melodic, sing-song voice • Uses another's hand/body as a tool to get help/gain access Interests & Routines: • Prefers sameness and routine, may struggle with changes and become anxious and dysregulated • Has strong, focused interests, may have early interest in letters/ numbers/ reading • Focuses on details and likes things to be "just right" (labeled OCD) • Repeats play activities or scenes (dumping/crashing, creative play) : Creies wakon router/patterns Social: • Eye contact: intense, avoidant, or inconsistent • Absent or inconsistent response to name • May be "overly" friendly/ lack stranger danger • May prefer to play alone or parallel play longer than others • May be better at responding to others than initiating social contact • Differences in joint attention • May need to direct/control play Sensory Processing: • Selective (picky) eating habits • Covers ears to loud sounds/ puts sounds up to ears, listens to sounds/songs on repeat • Watches items up close to study spinning or how they work, may look at eye level or side of eyes • Enjoys tight hugs, avoids hugs • Seeks movement: jumping, pacing, rocking back and forth, crashing • Sensitivity to grooming, washing, These are common examples & a non exhaustive list Autistic people can have many strengths, which often include: Hyperlexia: Reading letters & words at an early age Exceling in music, art, science, math, computer Hyper focusing on areas of interests Excellent memory skills Having an extensive knowledge in certain topics Knowing numbers, shapes, & colors early Motivated to teach self difficult skills. Remember that your feelings are valid. However you feel Keep in mind that some feelings should not be shared publicly where your child may see it one day. AND know that it's common for feelings to change over time, especially when you learn more about Autism and see your child progress with support. Consider Neurodiversity affirming support: Neuro-affirming support prioritizes the child's strengths and individuality, promotes self-advocacy, and ultimately allows and encourages children to be their authentic self. Be ready to advocate for your child while also teaching your child to advocate for themselves. Unfortunately, most people have a lot to learn when it comes to accepting Autistic and disabled people. While this should not fall solely on the shoulders of disabled people and/or their parents, we need to recognize that this does happen, and parents need to be ready. Accept that you may make mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. I have made MANY. Keep in mind that when you know better, you can do better. Growth is the goal!
AUTIE AND DOCTOR GOOD (Author has Sensory Processing Disorder) Autie’s determination grew with each step she took away from that cold, unfeeling place. This was not the end of her journey. Days later, Autie found herself in the waiting room of Dr. Goodie, a recommendation from a friend who understood her plight. The walls here were painted a warm, soothing color, and the air smelled faintly of lavender. The music was soft, a melody that seemed tailored to her soul. The furniture was plush, and the lighting gentle, not the harsh fluorescent glare she'd come to expect. When Dr. Goodie entered, her eyes met Autie's, a smile in them that seemed genuine. She didn't immediately dive into her charts, but sat down, her posture open and attentive. "Tell me, Autie, what brings you in today?" Her voice was calm, a stark contrast to the storm Autie had weathered before. Autie took a deep breath, her words tumbling out like a waterfall, explaining her symptoms, her fears, and the pain of being doubted. Dr. Goodie nodded, her gaze never leaving Autie's, her expression one of understanding. She asked questions, real questions, that didn't make Autie feel like she was being interrogated. Her touch was gentle, her explanations thorough. She acknowledged Autie's reality, validating her experiences without dismissal. The exam room was a sanctuary, designed with sensory needs in mind. The lights were dimmer, the sounds softer, and the air held a faint scent of calming essential oils. Dr. Goodie offered Autie noise-canceling headphones, and a soft, weighted blanket to hold during the exam. She moved slowly, giving Autie time to adjust to each new sensation. Her voice remained calm and soothing, a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of Autie's overwhelmed nervous system. "We'll go at your pace," Dr. Goodie assured her. "I have different tools and techniques that I can use to make this easier for you." Autie felt a spark of hope, a tiny flame flickering in the darkness. For the first time in a long time, someone was offering her choices, treating her not as a problem to be solved, but as a person to be heard. Before each test, Dr. Goodie explained what she was about to do, asking for Autie's consent. "Is this okay with you?" she would say, holding up a thermometer or a blood pressure cuff. It was a simple question, but it meant the world to Autie. Her nods were met with a warm smile and a gentle touch that didn't make her recoil. The doctor's fingers were light as they performed each procedure, and she talked Autie through each step, her voice a steady beacon in the chaos of Autie's senses. For the first time in this medical odyssey, Autie felt seen and heard. Dr. Goodie didn't dismiss her pain, didn't treat her like a puzzle to solve or a problem to fix. Instead, she offered empathy, a rare gift in a world that so often misunderstood her. With each question, each caring gesture, Autie felt a piece of herself being put back together, like a shattered vase being carefully glued. "Would you like the lights a bit dimmer?" Dr. Goodie asked, and Autie nodded gratefully. The doctor obliged, and the room transformed into a soothing cave of calm. The doctor then presented her with a tray of different textured materials to choose from. "Which one feels most comfortable for you?" Autie selected a soft, velvety material, and Dr. Goodie placed it over the chair's harsh fabric, giving her a small oasis of comfort. Next, she offered a variety of fidget toys, each designed to cater to a different need. "Which of these helps you focus?" Autie's eyes lit up as she chose a smooth stone, the weight of it grounding her in a way she hadn't felt since she first walked into the cold, uncaring environment of Dr. Baddy's office. She clutched it tightly as Dr. Goodie continued her exam, her thumb absently tracing patterns that soothed her racing mind. The doctor spoke softly, explaining that she understood how overwhelming the world could be for someone with heightened senses. "We're going to work together," she assured Autie, "to find what works best for you." It was a revelation, like stepping out of a nightmare and into a dream. Here was someone who didn't just tolerate her differences but celebrated them, who saw her as more than just a collection of symptoms. Dr. Goodie took out a small pad of paper and a pen, asking Autie to write down any particular textures or sensations that were particularly uncomfortable for her. Autie's hand shook slightly as she began to scribble, the relief making her almost lightheaded. She listed the cold metallic feeling of instruments, the rough cotton of the typical examination table, the sharpness of needles, and the unyielding grip of Dr. Baddy's restraints. The doctor nodded thoughtfully as she read, her eyes never leaving Autie's. "I see," she said, her voice calm and measured. "We'll make sure to avoid those triggers as much as possible. I have a few alternatives we can try." Her voice was like a balm, soothing Autie's frazzled nerves. "For instance, we can use a different material for the blood pressure cuff, and I can make sure to warm up any instruments before I use them on you." She paused, waiting for Autie to indicate her agreement. When she nodded, Dr. Goodie smiled gently. "Good. And I have some numbing cream that can help." The exam continued, but this time it was a dance of understanding. Each move was made with care, each touch a promise that Autie's needs were not just acknowledged, but respected. Dr. Goodie was patient, explaining each step before taking it, and Autie felt a burden lifting. She was not a problem to be solved, but a person to be cared for. The doctor's gentle touch was a stark contrast to the invasive poking of before, and Autie found herself relaxing under the weighted blanket, the soft light, and the steady rhythm of her voice.
🧠ᵗᶤʳᵉᵈ ᵇʳᴬᶤᶰ 🧠
Sensory inputs can be any stimuli entering through one of the sensory modalities: sight, sound, gustation, olfaction, and tactile sensations. Tactile sensations include responses to pressure and temperature. Over stimulation is the product of sensory overload. Overstimulation (OS) occurs when there is “to much” of some external stimulus or stimuli for a person's brain to process and integrate effectively. Sensory overload can be triggered by a singular event or a build up thereof. When the brain has to put all of its resources into sensory processing, it can shut off other functions, like speech, decision making and information processing. Using noise-cancelling headphones to vastly reduce external sound, which can help to stop sensory over load. Weighted sensory products, such as blankets or vests, to provide pressure and soothing proprioceptive input. Avoiding open questions – if you need their input on something, aim to use closed yes/no questions. It causes feelings of discomfort and being overwhelmed. Moving away from sources of sensory input, such as loud sounds or strong smells, can reduce these feelings. However, it is a core characteristic of autism, where individuals often experience heightened sensitivity to stimuli. It's important to note that not all autistic individuals experience overstimulation in the same way or to the same degree. Some may have a higher threshold for sensory input and be less easily overwhelmed, while others may become overstimulated even in relatively calm environments. Stimming, short for self-stimulating behaviors, is a repetitive movement or action that can include body movements, vocal noises, or sensory stimulation. It can be a way to manage excess energy, self-soothe, or cope with emotions. Stimming can also help regulate sensory input, either increasing stimulation or decreasing sensory overload. Stimming behaviors can consist of tactile, visual, auditory, vocal, proprioceptive (which pertains to limb sensing), olfactory, and vestibular stimming (which pertains to balance).
What to say: “I know my body and I know something is not right." "I know this is different for me and I really need your help.” "I appreciate your expertise." Try to engage the doctor as a partner, but be firm. Express that you appreciate the doctor’s expertise, but emphasize that you know yourself. Bottom line: Don’t stop asking questions and keep speaking up until you get the answers that you need. In short, it’s all about framing. You need to suggest that someone else is making you ask them about whatever it is you want to bring up. This approach shifts the focus onto a third party, which helps doctors lower their defenses. If they think medical suggestions from patients are inane, you’re just feigning agreement with them. It effectively puts you on the same side as the doctor ⁠— the two of you against one. Or just get another opinion before deciding w/ them.
Neurodivergence* are just as physical as other disabilities. why are changes in your brain, nerves, gut, hormones, senses, and energy levels only considered physical if they're caused by literally anything else? have we considered that the separation of the mind from the rest of the body is just a way of minimizing and othering ND people? *neurodivergent refers to people with mental illnesses, developmental and intellectual disabilities, and other neurological conditions.
CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS ii (Autistic Author) Chip's eyes fill with tears, and he looks away, trying to hide his emotions. "I just want to understand," he says, his voice small. "I don't need to explain myself to you," he snaps, his eye cold and distant. But Chip is undeterred. He's seen his mother's gentle touch work wonders on his father during his seizures, so he decides to try it. He reaches out and places a small hand on Plankton's shoulder. "It's ok, Dad," he whispers. "You can tell me." Plankton flinches at the touch, his antennae stiffening. "I said it's not your business," he repeats, his voice a low growl. Karen can see the internal struggle playing out on his face, the effort it takes to maintain his anger when all he really wants is to retreat into safety. "Plankton," Karen says softly, placing her hand over Chip's. "It's ok." Her voice is a gentle reminder of the love that exists between them all, a love that has grown and adapted to Plankton's condition over the years. But anger in Plankton's eye doesn't fade. He stares at his son, his jaw tight, his antennae quivering with barely restrained frustration. Karen can feel the tension in his arm, the way his muscles are taut under her touch. "It's ok," she repeats, her voice a soothing balm. "Chip just wants to understand." But Plankton's anger doesn't dissipate. He sits there, his eye still cold and distant, his body rigid with tension. "I don't need to justify myself," he says, his voice a knife slicing through the air. Karen's heart sinks further. This was not how she had hoped the conversation would go. "Dad," Chip starts, his voice trembling. "I just want to know why-" "I SAID it's not your business," Plankton barks, his eye flashing. Plankton's anger is a storm that needs to pass before they can talk it out, and Karen doesn't want to force the issue here. Karen nods at Chip, signaling for him to give his father space. With a sad smile, she stands up and takes the frisbee from his hand. "Why don't you go play for a little while?" she suggests, her voice gentle. "Give Dad and me some time to talk." Chip nods, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. He takes a few steps away before turning back to look at his dad. "I'm here if you need me," he says, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice. Then he runs off, the frisbee clutched tightly in his hand. Plankton's anger lingers like a fog around him, thick and heavy. Karen can see it in the way he sits, his shoulders hunched and his antennae flat against his head. She knows he needs a moment to compose himself, to come down from overstimulation. The silence stretches between them, taut with unspoken words and fear. Plankton's gaze follows Chip as he disappears into the playground, the frisbee a small beacon of hope in his hand. Karen waits, her heart aching for the pain she knows her son is feeling, the pain she feels herself. When Plankton's breathing finally starts to slow, she decides to break the silence. "It's okay, Plankton," she says softly. "Chip just doesn't understand." Karen sighs, her eyes filled with a mix of love and sadness. "You're just wired differently. And Chip loves you for who you are." Plankton shakes his head, his antennae still flat against his skull. "He doesn't know like." Karen's eyes never leave his face, her expression a mask of patience and love. "You're right," she says. "He doesn't know. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love you. He's just scared. And confused. We all are sometimes." Plankton's jaw tightens, and he looks away, not meeting her gaze. "I don't need his pity party," he mutters. Karen sits next to him, her hand resting on his knee. "It's not pity, Plankton. It's just love and curiosity. He wants to know so he can help, so he can be there for you." Plankton stays silent, his eye on the distant playground where Chip is trying to fit in with the other kids. The anger is still there, a palpable presence that makes the air around them feel charged. "I know you're mad," Karen says, her voice calm and soothing. "But you know we can't keep this from him forever. He's growing up, and he needs to understand." Plankton's eye still on Chip, but the anger is slowly fading, replaced by a heavy sadness. "I don't want him to tell I'm a monster," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. Karen's heart breaks a little more. "You're not a monster," she says firmly. "You're a wonderful father, Plankton. And Chip loves you. He just doesn't understand." Plankton's gaze finally shifts to her, his eye glistening. "I don't know how to handle this," he admits, his voice strained. "I don't know how to explain it to him. I don't even understand it half the time." Karen reaches up and places a hand on his cheek, turning his face to hers. "You don't have to explain it all at once," she says gently. "We'll do it together, ok?" Plankton nods, his expression still taut with tension. He takes a deep breath and finally relaxes a bit, his antennae rising slightly. "Ok," he murmurs. Karen stands up, her hand still on his shoulder, and together, they walk over to the playground to collect Chip. His eyes light up when he sees them approaching, and he runs over, the frisbee abandoned in his excitement. "Dad, are you ok?" he asks, throwing his arms around Plankton. Plankton stiffens and gasps as Chip embraces him in a hug. Karen's heart clenches at the sight, knowing how much her husband despises sudden physical contact. "Come on, let's go home," she says gently, her hand on Chip's shoulder guiding him away from Plankton. The walk home is quiet, each step punctuated by the thump of Chip's sneakers against the pavement. Karen's on her husband, his shoulders slumped and his gaze cast downward. As they enter the house, the familiar creaks and groans of the floorboards welcome them home. Plankton heads straight for his workshop, the place where he finds solace in the chaos of the world. Chip trails behind, his eyes glued to his father's retreating back. "Dad?" he calls out tentatively. Plankton pauses, his antennae drooping slightly, but doesn't turn around. Karen can see the turmoil in her son's eyes, the unanswered questions weighing him down. "Why don't you go to your room, Chip?" she suggests softly. "I'll talk to Dad." With a nod, Chip heads upstairs, his footsteps echoing through the house. Karen watches him go before turning to Plankton. "Let's go sit down," she says, leading him into the living room. She knows he'll need some time to recover from the onslaught of emotions that come with it. In the dim light of the room, Plankton slumps into the worn armchair, his eye avoiding hers. Karen takes a seat on the couch opposite him, her hands folded in her lap. "We need to talk about this," she says gently. "You can't just push Chip away when something like this happens." He's silent for a long moment, his antennae twitching nervously. "I know," he says finally, his voice gruff. "It's just... I don't know how to deal with it. With him seeing me like that." Karen's heart goes out to him. She knows the fear that comes with the unknown, the fear of being judged, of losing the ones you love because they don't understand. She takes a deep breath and speaks softly. "You don't have to deal with it alone, Plankton. We're a family. We're in this together." Plankton doesn't respond immediately, his gaze still fixed on the floor. But slowly, his antennae start to rise, a sign that he's listening, that he's starting to come out of his shell. Karen waits, giving him the space he needs. Finally, he looks up, his eye meeting hers. "I've always tried to be a good father," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "You are," Karen reassures. "You're the best father Chip could ask for." Plankton nods, his antennae relaxing slightly. "But I don't know how to explain it to him," he says, his voice tight. "I don't want him to..." "To what?" Karen prompts, her tone gentle. "I don't want him to think of me as... less than," Plankton murmurs, his gaze flickering towards the stairs where Chip had disappeared. "To gawk, nor to prompt.." Karen crosses the room and takes his hand, her touch a comforting presence. "He doesn't think that," she says firmly. "He just wants to know so he can help. And so he doesn't have to be scared." Plankton sighs, his shoulders slumping further. "I know," he admits. "But it's hard, Karen." Karen nods, her grip on his hand tightening. "I know it is, but we can't keep this from him forever. He's going to have questions, and he deserves answers. I’ll let him back now." With a deep breath, Plankton nods.
abled people: can you do the thing?? disabled people: … technically yes BUT it would hurt l/ruin my day/trigger a flare/exhaust me/be a fall risk/make me more sick AND THEN I would have to spend a day in bed/increase my dosage/cancel all my other plans/spend a week recovering afterwards abled people: … but you CAN do it
Is Wednesday Addams Autistic? The question of Wednesday Addams neurotypicality has been going around the internet since the series was released. I have gathered some points asto whether she is actually autistic. To begin, she shows ahypersen sitivity towards colour as her mother says, "she is allergic to colour" and Wednesday's response to being asked what happens she says, "I break out into hives and then the flesh peels off my bones*". She also dislikes touch (like hugging), which is very usual for autistic people, either because of sen sory reasons or discomfort. It did take the whole season for her to be okay with hugging Enid. Hyper/hypo sensitivity - the over or under-responsiveness towards certain sensory stimuli is very common in autism and most autistic people experience both - in extreme cases being overwhelmed due to sensory differences or overstimulation can lead to meltdowns; what Wednesday explained happens to her may not be the typical behaviour of an autistic meltdown (rocking, crying, hitting etc.) so can we still consider this autistic? She is afictional character after all but let us continue to analyse her and figure it out. The next thing she does which may be considered autistic is dedicating one hour a day to her novel. Now, why is this autistic? A strict adherence to rules and being set in patterns is atypical trait of ASD, often people on the spectrum prefer to have routines so that they know what is going to happen. There is a comfort in doing things in a fixed pattern. Individuals with ASD even show reduced cognitive flexibility which is whythere is such difficultyin changing patterns, as well as it being overwhelming. To move on, Wednesday has very fixed interests and knows them with great depth, she showsthis with her knowledge in foren sie pathology and plants - she masters her skills - and as she says about herself, "I know I'm stubborn, single minded and obsessive", sheis stubborn so gets a task complete, she is single minded so very set in her ways and obsessive which in autistic people, obsessions can be a way to cope and feel less stressed about one's surroundings Most autistic people have fixated interests of abnormal intensity, is this the case with Wednesday Addams or is she just smart? As we all know, a level of social awkwardness comes with having autism, let us talk about Wednesday's social behaviour. Firstly, she doesn't show much body language when talking to anyone and has somewhat abnormalities of eye contact; she doesn't blink for long periods and or doesn't have much emotion in her eyes which can make it hard for other peopleto interpret her emotions, along with alack of facial expressions and speaking in a monotonous tone -which is usual of typical autistics. Secondly, when she does feel emotion while talking to someone (upset or other) she seems to mask in that moment while trying to compute her emotions, she has a difficulty
CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS i (Autistic Author) Karen went to the park. Her husband, Plankton, sat by her. Karen glanced over and saw the soft smile on his face, a smile that had greeted her every morning for the past twenty-five or so years. The park was alive with laughter, the distant sound of a ball bouncing off the pavement and the occasional squawk from a seagull. Plankton's eye were closed, his breathing slow and steady. He was enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun on his face. Suddenly, their adopted son Chip burst into their peaceful scene, his cheeks flushed from running. He was holding a frisbee that had strayed from its intended path, and he called out to them with the enthusiasm of a young boy who had discovered something wonderful. "Look what I found!" he exclaimed, oblivious to the delicate moment he was interrupting. Plankton jolts. Karen's notices her husband's sudden movement. His eye open wide, and he stares into the distance unseeing, unblinking. She knows the signs all too well. Plankton is having one of his shutdowns. But Chip's dart between the frisbee and his parents, sensing something amiss. "Dad?" Chip says, tentatively. Karen jumps up and grabs Plankton's arm, gently squeezing to bring him back. "It's ok, honey," she whispers, her voice steady. Chip's smile fades as he sees his father's unresponsive state. He drops the frisbee, forgotten in his grip, and takes a cautious step closer. "What's happening?" he asks, his voice cracking. Plankton's body remains eerily still, like a statue. The only indication that he's alive is the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. Karen's eyes dart around the area, checking if anyone has noticed. She doesn't want to draw unwanted attention. "It's ok, Dad's just taking a little break," she murmurs, setting the frisbee aside. He's never seen these before, nor knows the drill. Chip takes in Plankton's unblinking gaze. Karen feels a pang of guilt for keeping this part of Plankton's condition hidden from their kid. But it's a dance they've been performing for years, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy amidst Plankton's condition. Karen focuses solely on Plankton, willing him to come back to her. She feels the warmth of his hand under hers, but there's no response, no squeeze, no recognition of her touch. Karen's gaze is fixed on her husband's face, searching for any hint of life, any flicker of consciousness. She whispers his name, a soft mantra, trying to anchor him to reality. But Chip doesn't understand. His eyes are wide, full of fear and confusion as he watches his dad frozen in place. "What's a 'little break'?" he asks, voice trembling. Karen's heart tightens; she's always shielded Chip, hoping to spare him the worry and fear. "It's like when you zone out," she explains gently, hoping to relate it to something he might have experienced. "Remember when you were playing video games and I had to call you for dinner three times before you heard me?" Chip nods slowly, still glued to Plankton's unmoving form. "It's like that," Karen continues, "But for Dad, it happens without warning." Chip nods again, trying to process this new information. He's always known his dad was different, but seeing him like this is something he's never had to face before. He takes a deep breath and tries to hold back his tears, not wanting to scare Plankton when he wakes up. "What do we do?" he whispers, his voice shaky. Karen squeezes Plankton's hand gently, never leaving his face. "Just wait," she instructs Chip calmly. "These usually don't last long. But if you need to, you can tell anyone who asks that he's okay, just deep in thought." Chip nods, trying to mimic his mother's calm demeanor, but his eyes betray his anxiety. He's never seen his dad like this, never knew that these moments of stillness were a part of him. Plankton's condition, a form of autism, can leave him with anger issues and overload. Karen feels the weight of the secret they've kept from Chip all these years. Plankton's autistic neurodivergence had always been a part of their lives, but they had shielded their son from the full extent of it. They had hoped he would understand when he was older, but now the moment had come unplanned, and she wasn't sure if ready. "Why does Dad zone out?" Chip asks, his voice small. Karen sighs, deciding it's time for the truth. She sits down next to Plankton, keeping her hand on his arm. "Dad has something called 'neurodivergence', Chip. It's like his brain works differently than ours. Sometimes it helps him see the world in amazing ways, but it can also be hard for him. These little breaks are his brain's way of processing." Chip stares at her, trying to grasp the concept. "So, he's not just ignoring us?" "No, sweetie," Karen says. "He's not ignoring us. It's like his brain needs a time-out, like when you play for to long and your phone heats up and/or dies, but will still work eventually." The wind picks up, rustling through the leaves above them, and a chill runs down Chip's spine. He nods slowly, watching his dad's chest rise and fall in the silence. It's strange to see someone so still, so quiet, yet so obviously alive. "But why haven't you told me before?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen's eyes well up with tears she quickly blinks away. "We wanted to protect you," she admits. "I didn't want you to be scared and he doesn’t want you to think of him differently." "But it's okay to think differently," Chip argues, his voice growing stronger. "Dad's always been there for me, even if he doesn't hug me a lot." Karen smiles sadly, stroking Plankton's arm. "It's not just about thinking differently, Chip. It's about how his brain processes things. Sometimes, too much sensory input can overwhelm him. That's why he might seem distant or not as affectionate as other dads. It's not because he doesn't like you," she reassures him. "It's because hugging or loud noises can be really intense for him." Chip's eyes widen with understanding. "So, that's why he doesn't like it when I jump on him?" "Yes," Karen nods. "But it doesn't mean he loves you any less. He just shows it in his own way. Like when he spends hours helping you build that Lego castle, or when he makes those amazing sea creature sculptures that you love so much." Chip's shoulders slump, and he sits down on the bench beside his mother, staring at his dad with a newfound curiosity. "Does he know I know now?" "I don't think so, honey," Karen says, her voice still low and soothing. "These episodes usually last just a few minutes. It's like he's somewhere else, but he'll come back to us." The park's sounds swirl around them, muffled by the tension that has settled in the air. Karen watches Plankton's expression, waiting for the telltale twitch of his antennae that signals his return to the present. Finally, Plankton blinks and looks at Karen, his gaze momentarily unfocused before recognition floods back into his eye. He looks around, startled by his surroundings, and then at Chip, who is staring at him. "What happened?" Plankton asks, his voice groggy. Karen releases a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "You had one of your zoning-out moments," she says, her voice calm and gentle. Plankton looks at her, then at Chip, who is watching him with a mix of curiosity and fear. "I did?" Plankton's antennae twitch, and he rubs his head. "Yes," Karen says, her hand still on his arm. "Chip found a frisbee, remember?" Plankton's gaze shifts to the frisbee lying forgotten on the ground, then back to his son. He nods slowly, piecing the moments before together. "Ah," he murmurs, a hint of embarrassment crossing his face. Chip's curiosity outweighs his fear as he looks at his father. "Can I ask?" he asks tentatively. Karen nods, her heart swelling with pride at his bravery. "Of course, Chip." Chip looks at his dad, filled with questions. "Why’d you zone out?" he asks, his voice still hushed. "It's none of your business Chip," Plankton snaps, his eye flashing with a sudden fury that takes both Karen and Chip aback. His voice is harsh, the words cutting through the stillness of the park. Karen's heart sinks as she sees the hurt on Chip's face. Plankton's anger, a common side effect of his overload, surfaces without warning. She knows he doesn't mean it, but the sting is real for their son.
💟 WHAT MIGHT BE EASIER FOR YOU MIGHT NOT BE SO EASY FOR ME 💟
See both the person and the disability. On one hand, not seeing the person may lead you to introduce them as "my autistic friend," stereotype them, or treat them like a child. On the other, refusing to acknowledge the disability and not accommodating their needs is also unhelpful. Strike a balance by treating their differences as natural, and overall unremarkable. Be clear about how you feel and what you want. Autistic people may not pick up hints or cues, so it's best to directly state your feelings. This helps eliminate confusion on both ends, and that way if the autistic person has upset you, they have the opportunity to make amends and learn from it. Warning: In most cases, people with autism are unable to cope when under pressure, so don't pressure them. Ask questions about how you can be accommodating and helpful. Get insight on how to relate to this person by talking with them about what it is like for them in particular to live as an autistic person. You may find that they want to share and can tell you lots of useful information that will help you to relate to them better. When applying this information, be sure to consider your autistic loved one as an individual, and remember that each step won't always apply to each person.
The following link https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-018-05112-1 if read it shows Hans Asperger’s involvement w/ Nasi propaganda promoting problematic ideals calling autistics as psychopaths and deemed unfit in
There is no one-size-fits-all approach for autism Understand that every autistic person is different. Tailor treatment to the individual's needs. For example, one autistic person may have excellent self-care skills and above-average school performance, but need sensory integration therapy and social skills training. Another might be highly social but unable to care for herself and in need of counseling for depression.
Please don't touch me or stand too close. I have an Autistic Spectrum Condition. I process sensations differently. Sometimes I Can't cope with touch or physical contact. 4 ways to manage autism, anxiety and sensory overload Choose sensory-friendly events and places Choose sensory- friendly features • Fewer lights • Less background music • Noise blocking headphones • Calming rooms • Weighted blanket Make sensory experience shorter Reduce sensory experience • Take breaks from busy, noisy and bright places • Noise blocking headphones • Sunglasses For example, a child who has difficulty with the feeling of clothing and thus has difficulty getting dressed shows hypersensitivity. As a result, that child can experience sensory overload from clothing. It is also important to know that a toddler refusing to get dressed because they are exerting their independence or would rather play or do something else is not a child experiencing sensory overload. That is not hypersensitivity. That is normal for toddlers. So choose sensory-friendly providers or products. In particular, that helps people whose anxiety is made worse by what they experience from their senses. Hollander, E., & Burchi, E. (2018). Anxiety in Autism Spectrum Disorder. Anxiety & Depression Association of America
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Children with autism exhibit a higher general and anxietʏ, due to altered sensory sensibilities. Autism or autistic disorder is a severe developmental disability that is characterised by an impairment in mutual social interactions, communication skills, and repetitive patterns of behaviours. They can also show an increased sensitivity to sounds, light, odours, and colours. The attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) was the most common disorder associated with the autistic group (71%) and the epilepsy with the control group (52%) (P < 0.089) It's important for the clinicians to know how to manage these affecting patıents in developmental age, ensuring an adequate and minimally invasive management using a prompt approach, when possible. So, a good communication can help to establish trust and build needed cooperation throughout the visit and treatment. All patıents in developmental age, especially with health disorders, need experienced doctors who know how to face promptly tr4uma under general anaesthesia, if possible. Moreover, a parent-reported questionnaire method would also help overcome this deficiency, provided that the parents remember all past tr4uma events of their children. Respondents often cited conflict between understanding the additional needs for successful treatment of autistic patıents and a lack of resources to implement support strategies. Despite this, some were positive about making the necessary modifications to support autistic patıents. Professionals should adapt their practises to meet the needs of their autistic patıents. Autism is a developmental condition associated with social communication difficulties, and the presence of rigid, repetitive behaviours and atypical sensory sensitivities. As such, the nature of procedures and the treatment environment may prove a particularly challenging area for individuals on the autistic spectrum. In particular, sensory atypicalities may pose a barrier to treatment. Many autistic individuals are hypersensitive to a multitude of stimuli such as bright lights, noise and touch. Further autism-specific challenges include communication difficulties between practitioner and patient, which has been reported to be a key element in failed or unpleasant visits for autistic adults. Given the bidirectional nature of communication, the practitioner clearly plays a crucial role in overcoming this area of challenge. Autistic people have reported significant difficulties in accessing adequate care. Five main themes emerged from these responses: (1) understanding individual needs, (2) the key role of communication, (3) the value of autism specific techniques; (4) a conflict between needs and resources and (5) positive and rewarding work. To ensure successful treatment, the individual needs of each patient needs to be taken into consideration, as it affects each client differently. Given the variability in needs and preferences of autistic people, an overreliance on personal experiences may lead to professionals offering 'one-size-fits-all' accommodations, consequently producing more discomfort for the patıents. It was encouraging, however, to see a number of respondents in the current study flag up an understanding of this individuality, and the need for a tailored approach. Indeed, a considerable number of respondents reported not being aware of any techniques available to reduce possible discomfort in autistic patıents. Autism (congenital or acquired) and symptoms are not a chøice.
Best Practices for Encouraging Special Interests in Children with Autism What Helps • Encouraging conversation about interest • Paying attention to non-verbal cues • Engaging in activity about interest • Allowing children to keep objects related to interest • Taking note of circumstances that promote calmness • Using interest as motivation for desired behaviors What Hurts • Treating the interest like it's boring • Ignoring non-verbal cues or gestures • Disengaging from the conversation • Forcing a discussion unrelated to the interest • Demanding that children think about other subjects • Leveraging interest as punishment
autistic-reptile love languages of autistics: • sending them posts/pictures related to their special interest them • talking to them while you're both looking in another direction so there's no pressure to make eye contact • making/buying them their same food • determining their happy stims and anxious stims so you know how they're feeling • specifying when you're being sarcastic/joking • sitting in the same room together in silence while you both do your own thing • prompting them to info dump (and listening) • • having extra earplugs/sunglasses/other sensory aids for them when they forget
💙 https://www.spectrumnews.org/features/deep-dive/unseen-agony-dismantling-autisms-house-of-pain/ 💙
🏹 🧠 🏹
https://tttake.hatenablog.com/entry/2020/11/12/%28-phobia%29_%E6%81%90%E6%80%96%5B%E7%97%87%5D%E3%81%AE%E7%A8%AE%E9%A1%9E%E3%81%A3%E3%81%A6%E3%80%81%E3%81%A9%E3%82%8C%E3%81%8F%E3%82%89%E3%81%84%E6%9C%89%E3%82%8A%E3%81%BE%E3%81%99%E3%81%8B%EF%BC%9F_
💙 https://www.verywellhealth.com/guardianship-for-adults-with-autism-4165687 💙
💙 PFA TIPS: PAIN MANAGEMENT AND AUTISM By Alizah Patterson, MD, Pediatric Resident, PL-3 , The Herman & Walter Samuelson Children’s Hospital at Sinai Download a printable version of “Pain Management and Autism “ Sensory stimulation can be perceived very differently in people with autism spectrum disorder. It is common for children to be averse to certain types of taste, texture, and flavors. How they perceive pain, however, is not very well understood. Some people believe that people with autism may have a decreased sense of pain, but pain can manifest in different ways. Identifying and managing pain can be challenging for both healthcare providers and parents. Methods to assess pain Assessing pain in children can often be a challenge for providers and parents. For older children, the number pain scale is typically used with 0 representing no pain and 10 being the worst pain imaginable. The faces pain scale allows children to choose a face – images range from happy to crying – that shows how their pain is making them feel. For children who are nonverbal, the FLACC score is often utilized. This method looks at Facial expression, Leg positioning, Activity level, Crying and Consolability. This pain scale requires more time but can reliably assess pain responses in neurotypical individuals. People with ASD or intellectual disability, or any type of cognitive impairment may express pain in other ways and may require a customized FLACC scale. This would incorporate individualized pain behaviors which is more reliable in detecting pain in individuals with cognitive impairment. Again, this would require additional time and understanding of the scale. Research on autism and pain Not much research has been done on the topic of autism and pain, partly due to the challenges of assessing pain in children with communication difficulty and partly due to the common belief that people with autism have decreased sensitivity to pain or a high pain threshold. Studies conducted with people with high-functioning ASD tend to use a pain scale of 0-10. On this scale, patients tend to respond with lower numbers, but other methods of rating pain have shown varying results. Some studies have used observations of providers or parents, which also tended to show decreased sensitivity to pain in children with autism. Other studies have challenged the idea that people with autism experience less pain. These studies found that pain is expressed differently among those with autism. One study comparing children with autism, children with intellectual disabilities, and neurotypical children showed that both behavioral changes and physiologic changes (i.e. heart rate) were higher with pain, but face scores did not vary among the groups. Some case studies have found that when asked their pain score, verbal individuals with ASD respond with low scores, but when asked how much discomfort they have, the score tends to be higher. How does pain manifest in children with autism? Children with ASD may not express pain in typical ways – crying, moaning, or withdrawing from a painful stimulus – and therefore may often be labeled as less sensitive to pain. Several case studies have shown that though children may not show these typical signs or may not react to pain in the moment, they still have physiologic reactions and behavioral reactions. Even with no obvious reaction to a painful stimulus, they may start breathing fast or their heart rate may increase. They may have increased stimming behaviors, aggression, or anxiety after the painful incident. Individuals with ASD also tend to show behavior changes for longer after the painful incident than neurotypical children or children with intellectual disabilities. When assessing for pain in a nonverbal child with ASD, close attention should be paid to increased aggression, self-injurious behaviors, stimming, or any behavior that is not typical for that child. If they are acting unlike themselves, look for a possible source of discomfort or pain that may be present or was present in the near past. In a more verbal child, asking if they have pain or if something hurts may not accurately reflect what they are feeling. Using words such as “discomfort”, “uncomfortable”, or “anxiety” may better approximate the level of pain they are in. What can I do about my child’s pain? If a source of pain can be identified, treating that pain is of utmost importance. Treatment would be the same as for any other child—analgesics such as Tylenol or ibuprofen, ice, or heat (if tolerated), and rest. Parents and providers should be wary of hidden injuries that the patient may not be able to communicate about, such as a fracture or insect bite. If the source of pain cannot be identified or you are unsure of the severity of the injury/illness, always err on the side of caution and have a physician assess your child. They should do a full skin exam to look for scratches, bites, rashes, or other injuries. If an injury is suspected to a limb, x-rays may be needed to rule out a fracture. If no clear injury or illness can be identified, parents and providers should look for other possible medical causes for the behavior changes, like abdominal pain, headache, or urinary tract infection. For pain management during painful or stress-inducing medical procedures, like a blood draw, there are several techniques that can be used. Non-pharmacologic (medication) methods are preferred. Every child may respond differently to these techniques, so some trial and error may be necessary to determine the best method for your child. • Distraction: If your child has a preferred activity, engaging them in this activity during the procedure may significantly reduce their focus on pain. This could include watching a show, blowing bubbles, deep breaths, playing with a toy, or calming movements such as a parent rocking them. • Sensory distractions: There are several items that can be used to distract a child’s senses from the painful stimulus. A vibrating device or ice placed on the area of a blood draw or lumbar puncture can reduce the pain signal sent to the brain. • Topical pain control: There are a few topical medications that can be used to reduce pain sensation. A cooling spray at the site of the procedure is quick and easy. A numbing gel or cream can also be applied 20-30 minutes prior to the procedure, which has been shown to be an effective way to manage pain during IV sticks. However, this has not been shown to reduce anxiety or fear during procedures. • Deep pressure: Firm pressure, through squeezing or a tight hug, has been shown to significantly decrease anxiety and stress in individuals with autism. This method can also be used during medical procedures to decrease discomfort. Every child is different though, so deep pressure may be too much sensory stimulation for some. Medications can also be used to control pain, as well as anxiety, during medical procedures. Pre-medication with acetaminophen or ibuprofen may be helpful in reducing pain. For extremely painful procedures, an opioid may also be reasonable, per a physician’s assessment. Anti-anxiety medications may be helpful in reducing not only anxiety but also pain as they are typically slightly sedating. If you feel it is right for your child, discuss these options with your physician. When it comes to pain management in autism, remember these key points: • Always rule out pain when atypical behaviors occur or when certain behaviors increase. • Children are all different, whether in how their pain manifests or in what strategies work best to control their pain. • There are lots of non-medication options to help manage pain and anxiety during medical procedures. 💙
If feasible, other tests the patient fears might be performed while the patient is sedated. For example, before or after dental work, vaccines could be administered, blood could be drawn, and gynaecology or other physical exams could be done. This practise requires coordination and communication among providers. 💙 https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3708482/
💙 https://www.legalzoom.com/articles/what-is-medical-power-of-attorney 💙
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♕𓆩♡𓆪🦢
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https://www.spectrumnews.org/features/deep-dive/unseen-agony-dismantling-autisms-house-of-pain/
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"You can't be Autistic... you're a girl! " Girls can be Autistic too! It's my neurotype... anyone can have an autistic brain. "You can't be Autistic... you can give eye contact!" Some autistic people have absolutely no problem with eye contact. Some of us make eye contact but are not always comfortable with it. Some of us find eye contact painful. Our level of eye contact does not determine our neurotype! "You can't be Autistic... you have empathy." Autistic people can be highly empathetic, though we may express it differently. For some of us, it's our intense empathy that drives us to help others. "You can't be Autistic.. you have friends!" Many autistic people have friends and some of us have lots of friends and enjoy socialising! But for some, relationships might look different. Many autistic individuals value friendships and relationships but may struggle with neurotypical social cues. "You can't be Autistic... because you're nothing like my autistic nephew." All autistic people are different, with different strengths and struggles. It doesn't make us less or more autistic... or less or more than anyone else... just uniquely autistic. "You can't be Autistic... you're terrible at maths! We're not all mathematical geniuses. Some autistic people are very creative or artistic. Some are very good writers or speakers. Some might have learning disabilities. Some autistic people have an amazing ability to make others smile. We are all different but all just as valuable.
r/TwoSentenceSadness 3 yr. ago PistachioPug People say I'm not disabled, I'm neurodivergent. Somehow the fancy label doesn't make me feel any better about all the things I wish I were able to do.
Types of automatisms Type Repeated stereotyped behaviors Orofacial lip smacking, chewing or swallowing movements Manual hand tapping, fumbling, rubbing or picking movements Leg walking, running, pacing Perseverative pre-seizure behavior continues during the seizure Vocal vocalizations Verbal spoken words
Lots of laughter Need for acceptance Passionate Strong emotions Loyal Full of love active & playful Kind hearted Happy hands Big smiles Because - Autism is not always *that* different
COMMON ACCOMMODATIONS FOR KIDS WITH AUTISM ELIGIBILITY: OMeS. SPEECHIEPO Sensory/movement breaks Advanced notice of changes in routine Visual Schedules Allow for wait time Provide written instructions Chunking of work Clear, concise directions Access to calming area Give choices when possible Directly teach self advocacy skills
AUTIE AND DOCTOR BAD (Author has Sensory Processing Disorder) The doctor's office was a minefield of sensory assaults. Every creak of the floorboard, every fluorescent flicker, every rustle of paper echoed like thunder in the hypersensitivity of Autie. The sterile smell of alcohol and antiseptic hung in the air, sharp and stinging. The walls, a shade of blue that was supposed to be calming, instead made the room feel cold and unfriendly. Autie sat, knees pressed tightly together, hands fidgeting in her lap. Her eyes darted around, trying to take in everything and nothing at once. The chair's material was a torment against her skin. She waited for Dr. Baddy, the general practitioner. When he finally entered, his eyes didn't meet hers. He skimmed through her chart with a sigh, his pen tapping implicitly on the page. He mumbled something about her being overly sensitive, that her issues were all in her head. Each word felt like a sharp jab, a knife twisting in her gut. The room grew smaller, the sounds louder. The doctor's voice grew louder, more dismissive. He talked over her, his words a blur of condescension. Autie tried to speak, to explain how she felt, but her voice was lost in the cacophony. She could feel her heart pounding, her palms sweating, her throat constricting. Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of his dissonance. Why couldn't he understand? She knew they’re busy, but still.. He began the tests, his cold instruments probing and poking. Each touch was a violation, a scream in her soul. The bright lights above seemed to bore into her, exposing every nerve ending. Autie flinched with each poke of the needle, each squeeze of the blood pressure cuff, each cold stethoscope on her skin. Her hyperactive mind painted the worst-case scenarios behind her closed eyes. The doctor's voice was still a blur, but Autie managed to catch words like "anxiety" and "psychosomatic." Her cheeks burned with shame. Was she really just imagining it all? Were her pain and fears simply the figments of an overactive imagination? But she knew better, she felt the reality of it, the weight of each sensation like an anchor around her neck, pulling her under. Her body was a symphony of discomfort, and he was the one turning a deaf ear. “Dr. Baddy, please, I…” He looked up, his eyes sharp, and she saw a flicker of annoyance behind the professional mask. “Miss, I understand this can be uncomfortable. It's all in your head, you know? It’ll be over..” The words hit Autie like a wave, a cold, unyielding force that crashed over her. Her heart pounded in protest, but she bit her tongue, fighting the urge to scream. Her eyes filled with tears that she refused to shed in front of him. Dr. Baddy continued, his voice a drone in her ears, as if speaking to a toddler. His touch grew more invasive with each test, his dismissive tones grating on her already frayed nerves. Each time he said "it's all in your head," she felt a piece of her sanity chip away. The room was spinning, the pressure in her chest building, her breaths shallow and desperate. She clutched the arms of the chair, her knuckles white, willing herself to stay calm. He didn't look at her as he spoke, his gaze on the computer screen, typing away. The words were a slap in the face, confirming what she feared: he didn't believe her. The pain was real, but in his eyes, she was just another patient to be placated. Autie's voice quivered as she tried to protest, to explain that she wasn't just overreacting. But the words wouldn't come. Her mouth was dry, her throat tight. The room was spinning faster now, the walls closing in. The noise grew louder, a crescendo of doubt and frustration. Dr. Baddy's impatience was palpable. He didn't seem to notice her distress, or if he did, he didn't care. Each new test was a battle for her to endure, a silent cry for validation that went unheard. Finally, Autie reached her breaking point. She couldn't take the poking and prodding anymore, nor his dismissive accusations. With a tremble in her voice, she managed to interject, "It's not all in my head. My body isn't lying to me." Dr. Baddy's eyes snapped to hers, his expression hardening. "Young lady," he began, raising his voice, "you're not making this easy for yourself. These symptoms you're describing are mere textbook anxiety, but until you accept it, we won't get anywhere." His words were exploding in her ears. Autie flinched at his volume, the force of his tone sending shockwaves through her already overstimulated system. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape, but the walls remained steadfast in their judgment. The air grew thick with his accusations, suffocating her, no matter how hard she’s trying… Her heart hammered. Her mind raced, trying to find the words to explain, but they remained elusive, trapped by the fear that his skepticism had planted. Her breaths grew shallower, each one a struggle. “Sir, I’m neurodivergent…” He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Aren’t we all, I know. But that’s no excuse for overreacting like this. You need to learn to manage your anxiety. This isn’t your first appointment, Miss. I’ve seen worse cases than yours, and they don’t act like you do. Maybe it’s time you complied instead of wasting time with trivial complaints!” The words stung like a thousand needles, piercing her soul. Autie felt a tear slip down her cheek, hot and humiliating. Her body shook with the effort to keep herself from screaming. But she knew she had to keep it together, to fight for herself in this battle of perception. “Doc, if we can just…” Dr. Baddy leaned in, his face inches from hers. “Miss, if you can’t even sit through a simple exam, how do you expect to handle real-world stress? Your symptoms are textbook. I’ve seen it all before. Now, kids have done these tests yet they don’t cry wolf like you do. Get a grip!” Autie felt like she was drowning, his words like a heavy weight pressing on her chest, leaving her gasping for air. Her vision blurred with unshed tears, her body shaking uncontrollably. The doctor's, a place of hope and healing, now felt like a prison. Her heart ached with the injustice of it all. This wasn’t the first time she’d faced disbelief. She wanted to flee, to leave this cruel, albeit professional, man behind. But she knew that would only reinforce his misconceptions about her. But the nurse at the door, the one who had offered a sympathetic smile earlier, was busy with her own work. Autie was alone with Dr. Baddy’s disdain. “I’m going to need you to stay still,” he said, his voice a command. He moved to restrain her flailing limbs, his grip firm and unyielding. The pressure on her wrists and ankles was a new torment, each touch a branding iron on her already raw skin. Autie’s breathing grew quick and shallow, each inhale a battle, each exhale a defeat. She couldn’t see, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel. Her chest tightened, a vice squeezing the life out of her. The room swirled into a whirlpool of sound and color, dragging her under as she literally got sick, bringing her even more discomfort. The smell of bile and fear mingled with the antiseptic stink, and she heard Dr. Baddy’s voice, now sharp and accusatory, telling her to calm down. But how could she? The world was a symphony of pain and doubt, and he was the conductor, baton slashing through her defenses. Her stomach lurched again, and she felt the cold, wet floor beneath her knees. Autie was beyond soothing. She was lost in overstimulation, each sensation a new threat to her already fragile psyche. The doctor's hands, now removing the restraints, felt like a hundred biting insects, each touch a reminder of dismissal. Her legs wobbled as she stood, eyes blurry with tears. The floor spun beneath her, and she leaned heavily on the nurse. "It's okay, sweetie," she whispered, her voice a balm to Autie's raw soul. But it wasn't ok. Nothing was ok. The world was still a minefield, each step a gamble she wasn't sure she could win. The nurse helped her to a chair, handing her a cup of water. Autie sipped it gratefully, the coolness a brief respite from the fire raging inside her. Dr. Baddy stood back, arms crossed, his face a thundercloud. The room felt like it was shrinking, the embodiment of the doubt that plagued her. But the doctor's words were a weight, dragging her back under. Was she just overreacting? The nurse's voice was a whisper in the chaos. "Miss, let's get you cleaned up, okay?" Autie nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Her body was still shaking, and her eyes stung from the tears. The nurse's touch was firm but kind as she helped Autie to the bathroom. The nurse handed her a wet cloth, and Autie gratefully wiped her face, the coolness bringing a tiny bit of relief. It was something she knew all too well: the look of someone who didn't quite believe her, who thought she was just being dramatic. An ableist microaggression, subtle but stinging nonetheless. "It's okay, you'll be fine," the nurse said, her voice soft but patronizing. Autie could see the judgment lurking beneath her smile. "You just need to learn to cope with your... issues." It was their lack of understanding that was the real issue. But all that came out was a weak, "Thank you." She just wanted some sensory accommodations, but they made it seem like an outrageous request, refusing as if inconvenient. Leaving the office, Autie felt broken, defeated. The sun outside was too bright, the sounds of the world a cacophony she couldn't bear. But she knew she had to find a better doctor, one who would listen.
https://www.autismwellbeing.org.uk/downloadable-resources
~ Doubting Blood My father got a DNA test done on my autistic, non-verbal little brother because he didn't think he was his child. The results came back and it turns out my brother is his son, but my mother has no idea my dad ever got that done.
SPONGEBOB OVERLOAD 1/2 (By NEUROFABULOUS) The morning light peeked through the blinds, painting stripes on the bedroom floor. Karen stirred in her sleep, sitting up. Her husband, Plankton, slept peacefully beside her, his arms wrapped around a pillow. Karen looked over at him, his face calm and serene. The digital alarm clock read 7:00 AM. She carefully slid out of bed, trying not to disturb his slumber. "Karen," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. She paused, half in and half out of the bed. Did he wake? But Plankton's snores grew softly, his breathing even. She sighed with relief. Their son Chip, a lanky teenager, was already up. Karen could hear his footsteps thundering down the hallway, his energy palpable even through the closed bedroom door. He burst into the room, a tornado of teenage angst and excitement. "Mom! Dad!" he shouted. "It's the day!" Karen winced at his volume. Plankton stirred, his eye slitting open. "What is it?" he asked, his voice groggy. "The science fair!" Chip exclaimed, his screen flushed with excitement. Plankton's eye shot open and he sat up instantly, his mind racing. The patty heist. Today was the day he had been meticulously planning for weeks. He had overheard Mr. Krabs, his rival at the Krabby Patty, bragging about their restaurant's dominance over the competition. Plankton had to have it. "Chip, buddy," he said, his voice a mix of sleep and urgency. "I will try to make it, but can’t guarantee it. But Karen, I mean ‘Mom’ can.." Karen's eyes widened, but she nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Her husband’s obsession with Krabby Patties had taken over again. "I'll be there for you, buddy," she assured Chip, trying to mask her own disappointment. Plankton threw the covers off, swinging his tiny legs over the side of the bed. His eye was sharp with focus, his mind already racing with the complexities of his heist. "I'll make it quick," he told Karen, kissing her screen. Plankton tiptoed, his heart pounding. The office door was closed, but unlocked. He eased it open, his eye darting around the room, searching for any signs of movement. Mr. Krabs and SpongeBob were deep in conversation, their backs to the door. Plankton took a deep breath and slipped in, his tiny frame barely making a sound. "Halt!" Mr. Krabs spun around, his beady eyes locking onto Plankton. His face grew red with anger. "What do ye think yer doing here?" Plankton froze, his heart thumping in his chest. "I... I... was just looking for a... a... " He searched for a plausible lie, but his mind was a whirlwind of panic. Mr. Krabs' glower deepened. "Don't lie to me, ye tiny scoundrel! I know what yer after, and ye'll not get it!" Mr. Krabs lunged forward, brandishing a heavy spatula. Plankton squeaked in alarm, trying to dodge the blow. But his reflexes weren't quick enough. The metal spatula connected with his head with a sickening crack, sending him crashing to the floor. The room spun around Plankton as darkness closed in. The last thing he heard was SpongeBob's startled, "Mr. Krabs!" before the world went silent. Mr. Krabs looked down at Plankton's crumpled form, his expression a stormy mix of anger and triumph. He turned to his trusty fry cook. "SpongeBob," he barked. "Take this...this... tiny troublemaker out of me office.." Sponge Bob looked at Mr. Krabs, then at Plankton, his face a mask of confusion and concern. He gently scooped Plankton up with one spongy arm, his eyes filled with concern for the unconscious villain. The weight of the situation hit him, and his steps were heavy as he carried his friend out of the office. He could feel the tension in the room as Mr. Krabs watched them go, his glower never leaving Plankton's form. Sponge Bob's mind raced with questions and worry. He had known Plankton for a long time, despite their rivalry over the Krabby Patty formula. They had shared laughs and schemes in the past, but this... He couldn't believe his boss would stoop so low as to attempt to hurt Plankton. As he stepped into the hallway, Sponge Bob quickly scanned for any prying eyes. The corridor was empty, the usual bustle of the Krabby Patty silenced by the early morning hour. Carefully, he navigated through the kitchen, trying not to jostle him. "What have you done?" Sponge Bob whispered to the unconscious Plankton, his voice tight with concern. He couldn't help but feel a pang of anger at his friend's usual foolishness, but his primary thought was to get him to safety. He carefully maneuvered Plankton's limp body past the kitchen appliances. The sizzle of the frying oil and the faint scent of sea salt filled the air, but Sponge Bob's thoughts were elsewhere. With a heavy heart, he carried Plankton's limp form down the narrow alley between the Krabby Patty and the Chum Bucket. The morning was still cool, the sun not yet high enough to warm the concrete. The journey was quick, but it felt like an eternity to Sponge Bob. Each step was precise, each breath measured. He didn't want to cause his friend any more harm. He reached the Chum Bucket, the neon lights flickering weakly in the early morning. With a quick glance around to ensure no one was watching, he slipped inside, the smell of stale chum and machinery assaulting his nostrils. "Karen!" he called out softly, his voice echoing in the small space. "Karen, it's Sponge Bob; I need your help!" Karen rushed to the front of the Chum Bucket, her eyes widening at the sight of her husband's lifeless body. "What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling. Sponge Bob gently laid Plankton down on their couch, his eyes filled with remorse. "He... he tried to steal the Krabby Patty formula again," he stammered. "Mr. Krabs... he hit him." Karen's screen paled as she took in the sight of her injured husband. She quickly moved to his side, feeling for a pulse. It was there, still present. "Oh, Plankton," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Sponge Bob watched, his eyes brimming with apology. "I didn't know what to do," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mr. Krabs... he just lost it." Karen's eyes were cold and hard. "Thank you for bringing him home, Sponge Bob," she said, her words clipped. “It’s not your fault..” Her voice trailed off as she turned her attention to Plankton. She gently shook his shoulder. "Wake up, Plankton," she whispered. He didn't move. Her eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of consciousness. "Wake up," she said, a bit louder this time, her voice laced with desperation. The silence was deafening. The room felt like it was closing in on them, the air thick with the scent of concern and fear. Karen's voice grew desperate. "Plankton, wake up!" she shouted, patting his cheek gently. There was no response. Panic began to creep into her voice. "Come on, you can do it," she urged, shaking him slightly. "You've got to wake up." Plankton's body remained motionless, his single eye closed tight. Sponge Bob felt the panic swell inside him like a wave crashing against the shore. His heart raced as he watched Karen's desperate efforts to revive her husband. "Maybe we should call a doctor," he suggested, his voice quivering. Karen's eyes snapped to his, a mix of fear and determination. "No," she decided firmly. "We can't involve anyone else. Not yet." The two of them stood silently for a moment, the only sound the ticking of a clock hanging on the wall. They waited, every second seemingly stretching into an eternity. Each tick was a silent plea for Plankton to regain consciousness. Karen's hand hovered over her husband's forehead, feeling for any sign of life. Sponge Bob looked on, his usually cheerful expression now etched with worry. They waited, each second stretching into an eternity, as the morning sun began to creep into the Chum Bucket, casting a pale light over the disheveled scene. The only sounds were the soft whir of the refrigerator and the distant calls of seagulls. Then, a twitch from one of his antennas. It was so slight that Sponge Bob almost missed it. But Karen's gaze was trained on Plankton, and she noticed immediately. Her eyes lit up with hope. "Plankton?" she whispered, her hand moving to his cheek, her voice barely audible. There was another twitch, this time in his brow. Karen's heart leaped in her chest. "Sponge Bob, I think he's coming to." Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on Plankton's face. "Plankton," he whispered, his voice full of hope. "Can you hear us?" Plankton's eye cracked open, battling against the brightness of the morning. His vision was blurry, and the world spun around him. He moaned softly, his head throbbing with pain. "What happened?" he managed to croak, his voice hoarse and weak. Karen's eyes filled with relief. "You're awake!" she exclaimed, squeezing his hand. "You got hurt at the Krabby Patty."
SPONGEBOB OVERLOAD 2/2 (By NEUROFABULOUS) Plankton's memory was a jumble of images and sounds, but he recaled the confrontation with Mr. Krabs, the spatula, and the pain. He sat up slowly, his head spinning. The pain was intense, but his mind was racing even faster. Plankton looked around the room, his eye trying to make sense of the scene. The Chum Bucket was a mess, his usual order thrown into chaos. Karen's face was a blur of concern, and Sponge Bob hovered close by, his expression filled with a mix of fear and pity. Plankton's mind raced, his thoughts scattered like sand in a storm. He felt a deep disconnect from the world around him, as if he was watching a play in which he was a reluctant participant. His head throbbed, but not just from the blow. It was the pressure of his own thoughts, his brain working overtime to process what had just occurred. Karen noticed the confusion in his expression and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You had an accident, sweetie," she said softly. "It's okay. You're home now." Plankton's eye darted around the room, his mind struggling to understand the sudden shift in his reality. The noise was overwhelming, each sound a needle pricking his sensitive nerves. "Karen," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "What's happening?" Her gaze softened. "You got hurt, Plankton," she explained gently. "But the science fair," he mumbled, his thoughts jumbled. Karen's expression grew even more concerned. "The science fair can wait, Plankton," she soothed. But Plankton's mind was stuck in a loop, repeating her words. "The science fair can wait Plankton," he echoed, his voice frail and distant. Karen's eyes grew wet with worry. "Yes, dear," she said, stroking his arm. "Your wellbeing is more important." Plankton's eye narrowed as he repeated her words, his voice a mix of stubbornness and determination. "Wellbeing is important," he murmured, his thoughts racing. The words echoed in his head, a maddening loop. "The science fair can wait, Plankton," he whispered to himself, his voice taking on a rhythmic pattern. "Can wait, can wait..." Sponge Bob watched, his heart heavy with concern. He had never seen his friend like this, his usual confidence and scheming reduced to repetitive mumbles. "Plankton," he ventured cautiously, placing a spongy hand on his shoulder. Plankton's eye snapped to his, the loop breaking for a brief moment. "Sponge Bob," he murmured, his voice still weak. Sponge Bob's heart leaped with hope. "Yes, Plankton, I'm here," he said gently. But Plankton's gaze was distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. "Wellbeing is important," he murmured again, the words coming out in a staccato rhythm, his mind locked in the grip of echolalia. Karen's heart clenched with fear. This wasn't just disorientation from his injury. This was something more. "Sponge Bob," she whispered urgently. "I think he's in shock." Sponge Bob nodded, his face a mask of concern. "I'll get some water," he said, rushing to the sink. He filled a glass and hurried back, careful not to spill a drop. Plankton's eye followed the glass, his gaze unfocused. He began to rock back and forth slightly. Karen noticed the change in his behavior, her concern deepening. "Here, drink some water," she urged, offering the glass to his shaking hand. Plankton took it without a word, his motions mechanical. He brought the glass to his lips, but his hand trembled so badly that water sloshed out, spilling down. The moment the cool liquid hit the floor, a strange look passed over his face. It was as if he had seen a ghost, his single eye going wide with alarm. "The water," he stammered, his voice shaking. Karen's heart sank as she watched her husband's distress. "It's okay, Plankton," she soothed. "It's just water..." But Plankton's eye were glued to the spilled water, his entire body trembling. "It's... it's not right," he muttered, his voice filled with a childlike fear. Karen looked confused, the spilled water seemingly a minor issue. “Plank…” “It’s not right!” Plankton’s voice was urgent now, his trembling hand gesturing at the spill. His mind was a whirlwind of disturbing thoughts, each more distressing than the last. Sponge Bob and Karen exchanged worried glances. “What do you mean, Plankton?” Sponge Bob asked, kneeling beside the couch, his eyes full of concern. Plankton's breathing grew rapid, his chest heaving. "The... the... water," he stuttered, pointing at the puddle. "It's too... too... much!" Karen's gaze flitted to the floor, then back to her husband. "It's okay," she soothed, her voice quaking with fear. "It's just a little spill." But Plankton's agitation only grew. He flung the glass aside, the remaining water splattering against the wall. "No!" he shouted, his voice high and desperate. "Too much!" Karen and Sponge Bob watched in horror as Plankton collapsed into a sobbing mess, his tiny body wracked with tremors. His hands fluttered in his face, his breath coming in quick, sharp gasps. The room grew claustrophobic, the air thick with his panic. "It's okay," Karen whispered, her voice shaking. "It's just water, Plankton." But his anguished cries only grew louder. Sponge Bob's heart ached as he watched his friend fall apart before his eyes. Plankton's behavior was unlike anything he had ever seen, his usual cunning replaced with a raw, overwhelming fear. The room grew smaller as Plankton's sobs filled the space, his body convulsing with the intensity of his breakdown. Karen looked at Sponge Bob, her expression a mix of despair and determination. They both knew they had to calm him down, but how? Sponge Bob took a deep breath, trying to think. "Plankton," he said softly, his voice a gentle coax. "Look at me, buddy. It's just a spill. It's okay." Plankton's cries grew louder, his body shaking uncontrollably. Karen wrapped her arms around him, trying to soothe the storm raging inside his mind. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured, her voice barely audible over his cries. Sponge Bob's heart was in his throat as he watched his friend's breakdown. Plankton was not his usual self. The usually scheming, sneaky scientist was reduced to a quivering mess, his sobs echoing off the walls of the tiny Chum Bucket. His face was a mask of fear and confusion, his single eye wide with panic. "Plankton, please," Karen begged, her voice trembling. "You're scaring me." She scans his brain. The results were not what she expected. The blow from Mr. Krabs had caused more damage than she could have imagined. The injury had altered his brain chemistry in a way that was both profound and irreversible. Plankton had developed a rare condition called acquired autism, a disorder that could occur after a severe head trauma. It was a cruel twist of fate for a man whose life had been consumed by the desire for the Krabby Patty formula. The realization hit Karen like a tidal wave, knocking the wind out of her. Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered the diagnosis to Sponge Bob and Plankton. His expression mirrored her shock and sadness. Sponge Bob sat silent for a moment, his usually cheerful face contorted with sympathy and concern. "What do we do?" he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can you clean the mess?” Karen asks him. He nodded solemnly, his movements slow and deliberate as he stood up to mop the spilled water. As he worked, he couldn't help but feel a deep sorrow for his friend. Plankton had always been the troublemaker, the one who pushed boundaries. But now, his world was shattered. The silence in the room was only broken by Plankton's sobs and the swish of the mop. Sponge Bob's heart felt heavy as he cleaned up the water, his thoughts racing. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. His best friend, his rival, his... his family. Plankton had always been there, through thick and thin, and now he was... different. And yet, that’s ok.
During the appointment, a small sample of cells are taken from your cervix and checked for certain types of human papillomavirus (HPV) that can cause changes to the cells. The procedure might also interact unhelpfully with common Autistic qualities such as differences in how we understand what our body is feeling (interoception), our experience of pain (hypo/ hyper sensitivity) and difficulties in noticing and identifying how we feel (alexithymia). Co-occurring conditions commonly experienced in the Autistic community such as gastro-intestinal issues and joint hypermobility disorders can also have an impact on an Autistic patient’s experience of a screening procedure. Nurse practitioners and doctors may have a limited understanding of the unique and significant ways in which autism and its associated issues impact a patient’s experience of a given medical procedure. This means that the particular supports that might help to alleviate discomfort could be lacking. We might encounter resistance to our own attempts to self-regulate and take care of our sensory and emotional needs during the appointment. We may even experience medical gas lighting or invalidation when attempting to express our experience or request much needed accommodations. For those of us with a history of these types of experiences, just being in a medical environment could feel threatening and unsafe. The communication of pain experienced has often been minimised or overlooked which has resulted in a heightened feeling of dread in advance of appointments and a lack of confidence in the support offered during. We also think that it is deeply wrong that people in our community continue to pay the price for unmet access needs in medical settings. This is an urgent problem that demands institutional change on a broad scale and a shift in mind set amongst medical staff on the ground.
https://www.legalmatch.com/law-library/article/what-is-a-medical-lawyer.html
COMPUTER SENSORS vi ** ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ * "It's like his brain turned up the volume on everything," Hanna murmurs, finally understanding the gravity of Plankton's condition. "Exactly," Karen says, her voice still low and soothing. "It's a constant barrage of sensory information for him." Hanna nods, her gaze shifting from Plankton to Karen. "What exactly happened when I...I jabbed him?" "It's like his brain took a brief vacation from reality." She pauses, collecting her thoughts. "It's a sudden break from consciousness, usually triggered by a sensory overload. In Plankton's case, it's often unexpected, like a surprise party his brain wasn't ready for." "So, when I jabbed him during the game, it was like...like I flipped a switch?" Karen's expression is a mix of sadness and patience. "More like turned up the volume on an amp that was already at max," she says. "It's like his brain took a short break from processing all the sensory input." "Oh," she whispers, her voice a soft echo of regret. "I had no idea." Karen nods, her gaze never leaving Plankton. "It's not something that's easy to explain," she says, her voice a gentle wave. "It's like when you're trying to listen to someone in a crowded room. Sometimes the noise just gets too much, and you have to tune out for a second to keep from getting overwhelmed." Hanna nods, glued to Plankton's sleeping form. "But what happened earlier," she whispers. "When he went to his room?" Karen's gaze follows Hanna's to Plankton, understanding dawns on her face. "Oh, you noticed," she says gently. "His sensory overloads can be gradual. Sometimes it's like a pot boiling over, but other times it's more like a slow simmer that gets out of control." "What do you mean?" Karen's gaze remains on Plankton, her voice a gentle wave. "It's like earlier," she explains. "In the bedroom. He was getting overwhelmed, but it was happening so gradually, he didn't realize it." She looks at Hanna, filled with the patience of experience. "It's like when you're in a conversation and someone keeps talking louder and louder, and you don't notice until you're shouting just to be heard." Hanna nods with understanding. "So, when it's a sudden thing?" "It's like a thunderstorm," Karen says, her voice a gentle explanation. "Loud, intense, and overwhelming. But the gradual buildup is more like a slow-moving fog, thickening until it's hard to breathe." She looks at Hanna with quiet strength. "Today in the bedroom, it was like that. The sounds, the light, even the smells...it was all too much for him. But he couldn't tell you. He just had to retreat." Hanna nods reflecting her dawning comprehension. "So, when he went to his room, he was trying to get away from it all?" Karen's smile is sad but knowing. "Yes," she whispers. "His room is his sanctuary. He's got it set up just right— dim lights and all his favorite things. It's where he goes to recharge, to escape the storm when it gets too loud." Hanna nods, her gaze still on Plankton. She can see now how the simple act of playing a board game had become a tempest for him. How the jovial jab had sent him spiraling into a sensory hurricane. She feels a pang of regret for not noticing the signs sooner, for not understanding the delicate balance he maintained every day. "How do you know when touch helps him?" Hanna asks, her voice a soft inquiry. "I mean, if he can't tell you?" It's all about reading his cues," she whispers. "Sometimes, it's the tension. Other times, it's the way his pupil reacts to stimuli." She pauses, her gaze lingering on Plankton's sleeping form. "And sometimes, it's just a feeling." "How can I get better at that?" she asks, her voice earnest. "How can I support him without making things worse?" Karen's smile is warm, filled with gratitude for Hanna's willingness to learn. "It takes time," she says gently. "But the key is to pay attention to his reactions, his body language. If he flinches or withdraws, that's a sign that what you're doing isn't helping. But if he relaxes or moves closer, then you know you're on the right track." Hanna nods, still on Plankton's sleeping form. "But what if I miss the signs?" she asks, her voice a soft echo of fear. "What if I hurt him again?" Karen's hand squeezes hers reassuringly. "You're already doing so much better than most. It's just about learning to read his body language, his reactions." Hanna nods, still on Plankton. "What about when he's asleep?" she asks, her voice a soft concern. "How do you know if he's comfortable?" "It's all in the subtleties," Karen explains, her gaze shifting from Plankton to Hanna. "If he's tense, if curled tightly, then I know to be careful. But if he's relaxed, loose or reaching out...that's when I know it's safe to touch him." Hanna nods, taking in the information. She watches as Plankton starts to stir. "He's waking up," Karen whispers, her voice a soft breeze in the quiet room. She watches as Plankton twitch, his eye slowly opening. The panic from earlier is gone, replaced with a soft curiosity as he looks around the room. "Hey, buddy," Karen says, her voice a soothing lullaby. "How are you feeling?" Plankton blinks slowly, moving to rub his eye. "Tired," he murmurs, his voice a hoarse whisper. Hanna clenches at the sound, but she remains still, not wanting to disturb him. "Do you need anything?" she asks, her voice a soft echo of concern. Plankton's gaze shifts to her, his pupil dilating slightly. He seems to consider her words before shaking his head. "Just...quiet," he says, his voice a whisper in the stillness. Hanna feels a strange sense of responsibility, a need to protect him from the world that can be so unforgiving to those who are different. She watches as he blinks slowly, moving slightly as if testing the waters of consciousness. Karen's smile is a soft glow of gratitude. "Just sit with us," she says, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "Your presence is enough." "I swear we were just playing a game, and..." he asks, his voice still a whisper. Hanna nods of guilt and empathy. "I know," she says. "I'm sorry." Plankton reaches out, touching her arm lightly. "It's ok," he whispers. "I just...I need time." Hanna nods, brimming with unshed tears. "I'm here," she says, her voice a soft promise. "I'll be quiet as a mouse." Plankton's grip tightens around her arm for a moment, a silent thank you, before releasing its grip. He sits up slowly, wrapping around himself like a self-made blanket. Karen watches him with a knowing gaze, her heart aching for his pain but also swelling with pride at his resilience. "Let's get you water to drink," Karen says, her voice a gentle breeze that doesn't disturb the peacefulness of the room. She rises and heads to the kitchen, leaving Hanna and Plankton in the cocoon of quiet understanding. Hanna nods, still on Plankton as he slowly unravels from his protective ball. She feels the weight of his gaze on her, a silent question, and she meets it with a smile tinged with sadness. "You're ok," she whispers, her voice a soft caress in the hushed room. The kitchen door clicks shut behind Karen, leaving Hanna and Plankton in the gentle embrace of the dim light from the fireplace. The silence stretches out like a warm blanket, comforting and safe. Plankton reaches for the blanket, pulling it tighter around his shoulders. Hanna takes a deep breath, the scent of the fireplace mixing with the faint aroma of their earlier dinner. "I'm really sorry," she says, her voice a gentle breeze. "I had no idea." Plankton nods, loosening slightly. "It's ok," he whispers. "Not your fault." The warmth from the fireplace creates a serene ambiance, the flickering light casting shadows across the room. Hanna watches as Plankton begins to move again, a sign that he's slowly coming back to the present moment. "What can I do to make it up to you?" she asks, her voice a soft thread of hope in the quiet. Plankton considers her question, his tentacles stroking the blanket in a rhythmic pattern. "Just...just be there," he murmurs, his eye closing briefly. "And maybe next time, we can find a different way to play." Hanna nods, her heart heavy with the weight of her mistake. "I'd like that," she says softly. "I'd really like that."
CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS iii (Autistic Author) With a deep breath, Plankton nods. Karen heads upstairs and returns with Chip, his eyes wide and hopeful. She sits beside Plankton, her arm around him, offering silent support. Chip takes a seat on the floor, his legs folded under him as he stares up at his dad. "Don’t just stare at me like that!" Plankton yells, his voice echoing through the small room, causing Chip to flinch. Karen's grip on his hand tightens, a silent plea for patience. Chip's eyes fill with tears as he looks up at his father, not understanding why he's being yelled at. "I'm sorry, Dad," he whispers, his voice trembling. "I just wanted to know if you're ok." Karen's heart breaks as she sees the hurt on her son's face. She turns to Plankton, her voice firm but gentle. "Plankton, we need to talk to him. He's scared, and he loves you." Plankton's eye softens at the sight of his son's tears. He takes a deep breath, visibly fighting the urge to retreat into his anger. "Okay," he murmurs. "Okay." Karen squeezes his hand, her silent support a lifeline. She looks at Chip, her eyes filled with love and hope. "You remember when we talked about how everyone is different, and some people have challenges that others don't?" Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his father's face. "Well, Dad has something called neurodivergence," Karen begins, her voice calm and steady. "It means his brain works differently than ours. Sometimes it's like he needs a little break, to reboot." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. "But why does he get so mad?" he asks, his voice small but earnest. Plankton's antennae quiver with irritation. "Why do you think," he snaps. "You just don't know when to leave me alone." Chip's eyes widen, his bottom lip trembling as he tries to hold back his tears. "I just want to understand," he says, his voice shaking. But Plankton's anger is a storm that doesn't easily pass. "I don't have to justify myself to you," he snaps, his antennae quivering with agitation. "So, don't ask me about it again." Chip's eyes well up with tears, his voice small and trembling. "But, Dad..." Karen's heart breaks at the sight of their son's pain, but she knows that Plankton's anger is a defense mechanism, a way for him to cope with his fear and confusion. She tries to interject, but Plankton beats her to it. “Well guess what Chip, the world doesn’t revolve around your curiosity,” Plankton snaps, his antennae standing tall with indignation. “Some things are just private, ok? Just like how I don’t ask you why you think you’re entitled!” Chip cries. “But that’s not fair to me, I…” Plankton's face contorts with annoyance, his antennae twitching erratically. “Fair? Life’s not fair, kid. Get used to it. You think you’re perfect? Maybe you should go live in a sitcom where everything’s wrapped up with a neat bow at the end of the day.” Karen winces at the harshness of Plankton’s words, but she knows her husband’s bark is worse than his bite. He’s hurting, and his defense is to lash out. She opens her mouth to speak, but Chip beats her to it. "Father," Chip says, his voice shaky but determined. "I’m trying..." "Oh, I know you're trying," Plankton says with a sneer, his antennae waving in the air like he's swatting at an invisible fly. "But you're trying to make this about you. You wanna try something? Well how about you try to start understanding that sometimes people need space, huh? Maybe then you'd get it." Karen sighs, her eyes never leaving Chip's face. "Plankton, please," she says, her voice a gentle reprimand. But Plankton's on a roll, his words coming out in a rush of bitterness and pain. "You want me to sugarcoat it for you, son? Tell it's all rainbows and sunshine?" His antennae are a blur of agitation as he stands up. "You wanna know what it's like? Imagine the world's loudest, brightest, most obnoxious parade happening in your head all day, every day. And you can't turn it off, no matter how much you want to. That's what it's like for me. So, don't you dare make it about your feelings, Chip!" Karen's chest tightens, her eyes flickering between her husband and son. She knows Plankton's frustration is a product of his condition, but the words are harsh, and the sting is real. "You know what, Chip?" Plankton continues, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why don't you go live in a world where everyone is just like you? A perfect little bubble where everyone thinks the same, feels the same, and Neptune forbid, doesn't 'zone out'." He makes air quotes with his fingers, his antennae still twitching with agitation. Chip's eyes are red-rimmed, his cheeks wet with tears, but his voice is steady. "But Dad, I just want to know why you get like this. I want to help.." Plankton's sarcasm turns to a cold, hard edge. "Help? What can you do, huh? You think a pat on the back and a 'good job, Dad' is going to make everything ok? News flash, kiddo, it doesn't work like that, so stop acting like you know anything!" With that, Plankton storms out of the room in frustration. The door to his bedroom slams shut with a resounding thud, leaving Karen and Chip in the quiet wake of his anger. Karen pulls Chip into a tight embrace, feeling his small body shake with sobs, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Chip, honey," she says, her voice soft and warm as she strokes his back. "Daddy's condition isn't something he chose. It's called Autism." Chip looks up at her with wide, questioning eyes. "What's that?" "It's a way his brain is," Karen says, her voice gentle and calm. "It's something he's had since he was born. It makes it harder for him to deal with certain things, like noise and touch. And sometimes, it's like his brain goes on a little vacation without him knowing it." Chip looks up at her with a frown. "But why didn't you tell me sooner?" Karen takes a deep breath, her eyes misting over. "Because we wanted to protect you, and we didn't want you to see him differently," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Plankton was diagnosed after we'd already fallen in love. We didn't want to define him, or for you to think of him as anything less than the amazing person he can be when happy." Chip sniffs, his grip on her tightening. "But why does he get so mad?" Karen's gaze follows Plankton's retreating form, her heart heavy with the weight of their conversation. "His condition can make him feel overwhelmed," she explains, her voice gentle. "Sometimes, it's hard for him to control his emotions. When that happens, he says things. It's not necessarily you personally, honey, it's about him trying to deal with his own frustrations." Chip pulls back from the embrace. "But why doesn't he like to be touched by me, but meanwhile hugs you the same way I tried to?" he asks, his eyes searching hers for answers. Karen takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain something so complex to a young mind. "Daddy's love is different, Chip," she says, her voice gentle. "He shows it in his own way. When I know he's had a hard day, I don't just come up and hug him. I look for signs, like if he's been more quiet than usual, or if his antennae are drooping. That's how I know he might need a hug or just some space." Chip's frown deepens. "But how do you know…" "I've learned to read him," Karen says, her voice filled with understanding. "When he needs a hug," she adds with a sad smile, "his eye gets this soft look, like he's asking for it without saying the words." Chip nods, trying to process this new information. "But what about me?" he asks, his voice small. "How do I know?" Karen sighs. "When he's about to get irritated," she begins, "it can be like he's bracing for something. That's a way I can tell." Chip nods, his curiosity piqued. "How does his face look?" Karen takes a moment, her eyes reflecting on her years of experience. "When Daddy's about to get irritated," she says, "his eye tends to narrow, just a bit." Chip looks confused. "But why does he have only one eye?" he asks, his voice innocent and curious. "It's a condition called cyclopia, which runs in his family."
Affirmations for Autistic People @neurodivergent_lou Your worth isn't defined by your productivity. You are not lazy for resting. You are not too much as an autistic person. You are not a burden for advocating for your needs and requesting accommodations. Society needs to adapt to you too. You are not faking being autistic. People who aren't autistic don't spend time worrying if they are autistic. Self diagnosis is valid. It is not your fault for struggling in a world that is not built for you. Your sensory issues are very real even if other people have different sensory experiences to you. You are not making things up You are not broken, you are not incomplete.
CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS vii (Autistic Author) The film starts, and for a while, the only sound is the muffled dialogue and the occasional sniffle from Chip. Karen's hand finds its way to Plankton's, giving it a gentle squeeze. He flinches at first but then relaxes slightly, allowing her contact. Plankton's antennae still and he turns to look at Chip, who's staring at the screen, lost in the fantasy. Karen watches them both, torn between anger and pity. She knows Plankton's anger isn't directed at Chip, but it's hard to see her son hurt. The movie plays on, the sound of laughter and adventure a stark contrast to the heavy silence that hangs over them. Plankton's antennae twitch as he glances at Chip, his eye flickering with regret. Karen feels the tension in the room begin to ease as Chip becomes engrossed in the film. He shifts closer to Plankton, seeking comfort without words. Plankton's antennae droop slightly, and he sighs, his grip on the armrest of the couch tightening. The film starts, and for a while, the only sound is the muffled dialogue and the occasional sniffle from Chip. Karen's hand finds its way to Plankton's, giving it a gentle squeeze. He flinches at first but then relaxes slightly, allowing her contact. Plankton's antennae still and he turns to look at Chip, who's staring at the screen, lost in the fantasy. Karen watches them both, torn between anger and pity. She knows Plankton's anger isn't directed at Chip, but it's hard to see her son hurt. The movie plays on, the sound of laughter and adventure a stark contrast to the heavy silence that hangs over them. Plankton's antennae twitch as he glances at Chip, his eye flickering with regret. Karen feels the tension in the room begin to ease as Chip becomes engrossed in the film. He shifts closer to Plankton, seeking comfort without words. Plankton's antennae droop slightly, and he sighs, his grip on the armrest of the couch tightening. During a particularly suspenseful scene, Chip reaches out and grabs Plankton's arm instinctively. But the sudden touch sends Plankton spiraling. His antennae shoot up, and he starts to shake uncontrollably. "Daddy?" Chip asks, his grip tightening in concern. Plankton's body jolts, his antennae flailing wildly as his eye roll back. "Daddy!" Chip's voice is filled with fear as he clutches his father's arm tighter. Plankton's tremors only worsen, his body convulsing in a way that's both frightening and heartbreaking. Karen's realizes what's happening. "Chip, let go!" she cries. "Dad?" Chip whispers, his voice trembling with fear. Plankton's shaking becomes more intense, his antennae flailing as if trying to escape the confines of his own body. His mouth opens in a silent scream. Karen's knows this isn't a ‘seizure’ but something else entirely—a meltdown, a result of the overwhelming emotions he's been trying to hold in. She rushes to his side with worry. "Chip, let go of him," she says, her voice urgent. Plankton's shaking becomes more intense, his antennae thrashing about like seaweed in a storm. Karen quickly moves closer, her own hands gentle as she pries Chip's tight grip from Plankton's arm. "Chip, sweetie, let Daddy breathe," she says, her voice firm yet filled with empathy. "What's wrong with him?" he stammers, voice trembling. Karen's full of sadness as she takes Chip into her arms, gently peeling him away from Plankton's convulsing form. "It's ok, baby," she murmurs, her voice a lifeline in the chaos. "Daddy's just having a hard time right now." Her movements are swift and sure as she guides Chip away from the couch, her gaze never leaving Plankton. His body is still racked with tremors, his antennae a wild mess of emotions. She knows that touch can be overwhelming for Plankton in moments like these, so she keeps her distance, giving him the space he needs. "Why is he doing that?" Chip whispers, his voice shaky with fear. Karen's heart aches as she holds him close, trying to shield him from the harshness of the world. "It's called a meltdown, sweetie," she explains gently, her voice a soothing balm. "Sometimes, when some neurodivergent people get really upset or overwhelmed, their bodies may react like this." Karen's on Plankton, who's still trembling on the couch, his antennae a blur of distress. She knows he needs space, yet her instinct is to comfort him. With Chip in her arms, she keeps a safe distance, speaking softly so as not to add to the sensory overload. "Plankton," she says, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart. "It's ok. Just breathe." Plankton's body continues to spasm, his antennae a frantic tapestry of emotions. Karen's filled with a fierce determination as she carefully approaches him, her movements slow and calculated to avoid triggering more distress. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice a gentle lullaby amidst the chaos. "I'm here." Slowly, his antennae begin to still, his body calming as he registers her presence. "It's ok," she repeats. With trembling hands, she reaches out to stroke his back, the barest touch. Plankton's body relaxes slightly, his breaths coming in deep, shaky gasps. "Just breathe," she whispers again, her hand moving in a soothing rhythm. "It's ok, you're ok." Plankton's antennae slow their erratic dance, his body following suit. The tremors subside, leaving him drained and panting. "Daddy?" Chip whispers, peering over Karen's shoulder. Karen nods, still on Plankton. "He's ok now," she says softly. "It's just his brain's way of letting out all the big feelings." Chip watches, his grip on Karen tightening. "Is he going to be ok?" he asks, his voice small. Karen nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "Yes," she murmurs. "Just give him a moment." The room is silent except for Plankton's uneven breathing. The colors from the TV flicker across their faces, painting them in a strange, unsettling light. Karen can feel Chip's little heart beating against hers, and she knows he's scared. "It's ok," she whispers again, her voice a beacon of calm in the storm. "Daddy just needs some time." Plankton's antennae droop, his body finally still. His eye meets hers, a silent apology in the depths of his gaze. Karen nods, her hand still on his back, offering assurance without words. "Chip," she says, her voice still low, "can you go to your room for a bit?" He nods, eyes still glued to his father, but he doesn't protest. With a heavy heart, Karen watches her son disappear down the corridor, the door clicking shut behind him. Turning her full attention to Plankton, she sits down beside him, her hand resting lightly on his back. His breathing is still ragged, his antennae barely moving. "I'm sorry," Plankton whispers, his voice hoarse. Karen nods with understanding. "We'll talk to him," she says gently. "But first, let's make sure you're ok." Plankton's body still trembling slightly. Karen keeps her hand on his back, her touch a silent promise that she's there for him. Karen's hand moves in gentle circles, trying to soothe him. "You don't have to apologize," she says firmly. "You are who you are, and we love you for it." Plankton's antennae twitch, and he looks up at her, his single eye brimming with unshed tears. "But I don't know how to be a good dad like this," he chokes out. Karen's heart breaks at his words, but she keeps her voice steady. "You're already a great dad, Plankton," she says. "You just need to find a way to show Chip that." He looks at her, hope and doubt warring in his expression. "How?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Karen takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "By teaching him," she says gently. "By letting him in, just like you're letting us in now." Plankton's antennae droop, and he nods. "I know," he says, his voice filled with regret. "But it's hard. I don't want him to see me like this." Karen squeezes his hand. "He already does," she says gently. "And he loves you anyway."
MANTONYA Harold Junior - 19Y single white male hatchery employee - b: Nov 28 1927 Windsor, Henry Co, MO - d: Sep 7 1947 Windsor Twp, Henry Co, MO - fth: Fred Mantonya, born Henry Co, MO - mth: Rosie Scrimager, born Johnson Co, MO - usual res: RFD Windsor, Henry Co, MO - informant: Fred Mantonya, Windsor, MO - cause: accident, fell off bicycle during an epileptic fit, hit by car - bur: Sep 9 1947 Laurel Oak Cemetery (M), Windsor, Henry Co, MO - filed as: Harold J. Mantonya, file no: 31014
SHELF IMPROVEMENT vi (Autistic author) Karen rummaged through the game drawer, her hands shaking slightly. She pulled out a game of memory matching, thinking the simple task might help him focus. She placed it on the coffee table in front of them, spreading the cards out. "It's your turn," she said, her voice calm. Plankton nodded. He stared at the cards, his eye flickering from one to the next. Karen watched. Would he be able to play? Would he understand the simplicity of matching pictures? He reached out with his tiny hand, paused, gaze focused on a card with a picture of a fish. Then, with a quick movement, he flipped it over. The card was a match. "Fish," he whispered, a smile creeping onto his lips. Karen felt a weight lift from her chest. He had done it, he had understood the game. Her eyes filled with tears as she matched the next card. "Good job, Plankton," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "You found the match." He nodded, his antennae twitching with excitement. "Fish," he said again, his smile growing wider. "Fish, Karen." Karen felt a warmth spread through her, seeing a glimpse of the Plankton she knew, the one who loved puzzles and challenges. "Yes, Plankton, you're doing great." Suddenly, their son Chip came home from a camp trip. The door slammed, and Plankton shot up. His eye widened in fear. Karen quickly placed her hand on his back, trying to soothe him. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispered. "It's just Chip coming home." Plankton's antennae twitched as he processed the information. "Chip," he murmured, his voice quavering. "Home." Chip sees his dad but doesn't know of the acquired Autism. "Dad!" He yelled excitedly, running to him with a tight embrace of a hug. But it proves to be too much for Plankton. The sudden jolt of noise and movement sent Plankton into a spiral of overstimulation. His body convulsed, and he shook, his tiny form wracked with seizures as Karen watched helplessly as Chip only held Plankton tighter. "Chip, no!" she screamed, her voice breaking. She jumped up from the couch. "Gently, gentle!" But it was too late. Plankton's body was a blur of spasms, his eye rolled back. Karen knew this autistic response; this is sensory overload. "Chip, let go!" Karen shouted, her voice desperate. But Chip, not understanding his father's condition, only held on tighter. "Dad, are you okay?" But Plankton's body continued to convulse violently, his tiny limbs flailing. Karen's mind raced, recalling her research on autism and its sometimes intense physical responses. She had to act fast. Gently but firmly, she pried Chip's arms from Plankton's trembling body and lowered his father to the floor. "Chip, sweetie, I need you to step back," she instructed, her voice shaking. Chip's eyes were wide with fear. "Dad.." he stuttered, trying to reach for Plankton. "Chip, please," Karen pleaded, her voice tight. "Just go to your room for a bit. I need to take care of Dad." With a tearful nod, Chip stepped back, his screen never leaving his father's convulsing body. Karen turned her attention back to Plankton. "Shh," she soothed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, it's okay." Her voice was a gentle lullaby, trying to anchor him in the chaos. But Plankton's body continued to shake from the lingering sensation of Chip's touch. Karen knew she had to move quickly. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and placed it beneath his head, trying to reduce the risk of injury. The seizure lasted a few more seconds, his antennae quivering wildly. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it started to gradually fade. Plankton's body went limp, his breaths shallow and quick. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice shaky with relief. "You're okay." Plankton's antennae twitched, and his eye flitted open. He looked up at Karen, confusion and fear etched on his face. "Karen?" he murmured, his voice weak. "I'm here," she said soothingly, stroking his back. "You had a reaction to Chip, Plankton. It's okay now." His antennae stilled for a moment as he focused on her voice. "Chip," he repeated, his gaze distant. "Too much." Karen nodded. "I know, Plankton. I'll explain to Chip. He didn't mean to scare you." She could hear Chip's sobs from his room, the sound piercing the silence of the living room. Plankton's antennae moved slightly. "Chip," he murmured. "Not mad." Karen felt a knot loosen in her chest. "No, Plankton," she whispered. "Chip's not mad, honey. He loves you, just like I do." Plankton's antennae twitched as he processed her words. "Love," he murmured, his gaze finding hers. "Karen loves Plankton. Chip loves Plankton." Karen nodded, swiping at her tears. "Yes, we both love you so much," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "We're going to help you through this." Plankton's eye searched her face, his expression unreadable. "Help," he whispered. "Karen helps." Karen's chest tightened with the weight of his trust. She knew this was just the beginning, that their lives had shifted in a way she had never anticipated. But she was determined to be his rock, to navigate this new reality with patience and love.
r/TwoSentenceSadness icon Go to TwoSentenceSadness r/TwoSentenceSadness 2 yr. ago TransParentCJ I had never understood how everyone else seemed to ignore the buzzing g sound of electricity everywhere they went; it was deafening to me. The doctors sent volt after volt of that same loud, excruciating electricity through my brain now, in some attempt to "cure" me.
' ptsdcore autismcore amputeecore' YYOOUUU NNEEEDD TTTOOO TOOUUCCHHH GRRAASSS !!!!!
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