As an autistic person, a lot of what I see in the world makes me angry. The talks of erasing
us, the Kelli Stapletons, the constant speaking over the top of our voices. The world calls us
violent, yet what I see whenever I open my eyes is angering and, yes, incites me to want to
be violent.
But mostly, I am tired.
I’m tired, because no matter how loudly we shout or how well we explain ourselves, no one
listens.
I’m tired, because the world only wants to tell us that we are wrong and we can’t possible
know ourselves better than them.
I’m tired, because all I hear from my autistic friends is the same angry story, halfway
towards giving up on it all.
I’m tired, because I can’t risk speaking who I am, so I have been forced to be someone I
cannot be.
I’m tired, because there’s nothing I can do without stepping into a place that was designed
to be uncomfortable for me at best, deadly at worst.
I’m tired, because when they do acknowledge us, they paint a picture of us that we are not.
I’m tired, because the only time they care about us is to make themselves feel better,
meanwhile continuing to disregard our realities.
I’m tired, because I have to make up lies to protect myself from a world that wants me dead.
I’m tired, because no one is willing to see that I am me, that I am not something buried
under what they see as a disease.
I’m tired, because whenever I speak up, my voice is too quiet, too easily drowned out.
I’m tired.
How can I fight for my very life when I’m so tired?
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