Thursday, April 30, 2015

Mis-placed blame

For the record: I hate Autism. H A T E. If there were some way I could make my son not-Autistic, I would do so in a New York minute. I am not one of those parents who thinks my kid's Autism is a blessing...fuck. That. My kid? Sure, he's a blessing. Him being on the Spectrum? Certainly not.

Now, I may change my mind one day. I may come to see this part of him as a blessing. But right now, no. I hate it. I hate that he's in pain. I hate that he feels so bad about himself.  And before I hear, "Well, maybe he hates himself because you obviously hate him if you hate Autism," just shut up. I don't know why he hates himself so much but it does not come from me. Ever. So shut your judgy fucking face.

I hate that my baby hurts. I hate that he thinks he's a failure before he even tries. I hate that in addition to passing along my amazing eye color to him, I also passed Depression, which in Spectrum kids is taken to a whole other level.

Right now, my kid is broken. Not because he's Autistic, but for some other reason we can't figure out. But sometimes it's easier to blame the Autism, even though I know it's not its fault.