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Steve Page Apr 13
Sometimes you won’t be, oftentimes you will
see spots and feel lost. If they persist make yourself
an appointment with a quiet man with unremitting sentences
and cold fingers which will explore new fears, fresh cul-de-sacs
leading to excision by a woman with a practiced smile,
knife-thin latex and a distance
that prevents inappropriate contact.

Sometimes you won’t be, one day you will
and meanwhile you find a new lump -
don’t wait, make an appointment
with the quiet man and he may say something
you won’t hear above the screams swallowed by old nausea.

Sometimes you won’t be, one day you will
and meanwhile you let regret rise
and tell your daughter all the too lates
that wait unopened.

And one day you will.
Again, triggered by Tamar Yoseloff's collection: The Black Place
Nico Reznick Aug 2021
It's genetics, 
and it's 
It's meningitis, glandular fever
and the novel coronavirus.
It's bad habits catching up 
with me. 
It's poison dust and GM foods
and leaded petrol. 
It's stress-induced.
It's karmic irony.
It's my sense of foreshortened future 
made manifest.
It's a new way of self-harming 
on a cellular level. 
It's punishment from a god
I don't believe in.
It's the universe replying it 
doesn't care.

There's a million different 
(equally plausible, equally irrelevant) 
None of them change anything.
At 7 years old, I told my mother,
"You're not my real mom.
You're my Earth mom,
And at night when I'm asleep,
I go back to my home planet."
As the years sped onwards,
I conceptualized myself as a three headed alien,
A Poet From Another Planet,
Acutely aware of my innate differences.
No explanation had I other than being extraterrestrial.
Those around me, too, seemed to sense I was "other."
Playground insults supported by adults who floated labels like
"Lazy," "Difficult," "Rude," "Deliberately Obtuse"
Over my head as if they were a crown,
Signifying I was queen of kingdom "Unlike Us."
No one looked deeper at the poor social skills ,
The rigidity, sensory difficulties, challenges with executive dysfunction.
It was easier to pretend I was in control,
Choosing the route of difficulty and belittlement.
It was only after I nearly succeeded in killing myself
That someone assembled the whole picture.
My story is not unique among women
Born into bodies and brains whose operating system is Autism.
We are the forgotten, the alienated, and plastered with assumptions,
Lost under the blind eye of those who spin tall tales of
"Only straight, white little boys can possibly be autistic!"
Generations of autistic women have known not a name for their difference,
Bogged down under self-loathing, eating disorders, and suicides,
Anything to cope with a world designed to break them
For the differences everyone noticed but no one could see.
Now that women are finally coming onto the scene,
A subtle shift in the awareness that the clinicians, teachers, doctors
Were missing a whole population of autistic people,
Answers are gate kept behind assessments that are thousands of dollars
And diagnosticians who've yet to see the error of their ways.
Peace of mind seems to be a right only of white autistic men
Who are lucky enough to have the "profile" of autism modeled after them.
It took 19 years, two suicide attempts, including 10 days in a coma
For someone to finally "see me,"
And I'm one of the lucky ones.
Answers were finally mine,
But understanding one's own brain should be a human right.
I think we can all agree:
The price of a diagnosis should not be your life.
Blake Feb 2021
I know why I was running as fast as I could
I know why I still felt as though I wasn’t good
When everyone else understood what was said
While I was thinking what’s wrong with my head

The signs were all there
I wish I had known
I wish I had seen them
Each time they had shown

No I am not lazy
Nor am I dumb
I am not broken
And there’s no need to run.

Yes I still need them
To speak to me different,
I need things explained to me
Slowly,  just need a second

My brain works differently
And I sense more than most
I hear the electricity
Louder than your voice when you talk

There’s no race that I’m running
So I can’t be behind
I do things my own way
that works for my mind

I’m different than them
But that’s nothing wrong
I’ve learned a lot about me
And who I’ve been all along

I am at peace now
I know where I belong
I’ve found others just like me
I’m not helpless after all
I am just me
And you are just you
And we are both different
Your needs are special too.
Finding out I’m autistic was finding out everything about me and all of it suddenly making sense. I know why I never understood things the same as those around me
Cara Anne Nov 2020
Simple words cut through my heart with their syllables.

They pound in my chest with their dreadful meaning.

Causing fear and shock to trickle throughout my body

The chemicals bind together to make the world stand still around me.

Bodies of others seem to float in the enclosure surrounding me, but I do not register that they are there.

Thoughts race through my head, but like me, they do not reach a destination.

Static fills the air around me, and tortures my ears with it's ringing.

It swirls around my head with the voice of my news.

Both noises chant together to become louder and louder until I want to scream.

Reaching my breaking point, my body becomes numb.

Oxygen doesn't seem to reach my lungs.

Waves of suffocation wash over me.

Forcing me to fall to my knees.

Feeling helpless, I sit on the floor in a crumbled mess.

Waiting for the days to pass, and the better times to come.
Sarah Flynn Oct 2020
I want to recover.
I want to open up in therapy
and take my medication like I should.
I want to feel again.
I want this numbness to end.
I want to, I do.

but for that to happen,
my disorders and diagnoses
would have to go away.
I would be left to face
the real world all on my own.

this safe world that my disorders
have built around me would be gone.
I would no longer feel so
disconnected from my body.
I would no longer feel so
disconnected from the world around me.
my disorders would leave me.

I can’t lose any more friends.
I’m still hurt from those endings
that I never saw coming

and whether I like it or not,
these disorder are my best friends.
I can’t lose them yet.
I’m not strong enough.
Tasha Sep 2020
I don't have a personality
I have a diagnosis.
I am not 'very- '
I'm 'hyper- '
I'm not 'bad at'
I'm 'exhibiting dysfunction'.
I'm not forgetful
it's time blindness
I'm not clever
it's hyperfixation
I'm not active
it's stimming
I'm not shy
it's anxiety.
I have a cluster of conditions
balled up in my chest
instead of a heart.
I don't have a brain
I have a doctor's hand behind my eyes
navigating me through the world.
I'm empty without my suffering.
Grey Apr 2020
Heart is racing!
Chest is aching!
Pits are sweating!
Hands are shaking!
Breath is heaving!
World is swaying!

Pretty stupid when you think about it. Why did we even evolve to be this way? Seems like it blocks reproduction more than anything.
Empire Jun 2019
The word still echoes in my head
Surreal and complicated
Such a heavy word
Even though it's been almost a year
Since things were so bad
And I heard the words:
Anxiety Disorder
Eating Disorder
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
Followed by the words:
Each one like a lightning strike
I can feel them in my veins
But the most frightening
Was hearing the prefix:
I'm still not honest enough with myself about some of these words...
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