be different

tuesday 8 may 2012

Be Different is the title of John Elder Robison’s latest book. I haven’t read it, though I’ve read his first book (Look Me In the Eye), all of his brother’s (augusten burroughs’) books, and have just finished his mother’s (margaret robison’s) book, The Long Journey Home. I also have a book of her poetry. This family spent a good chunk of time living in western mass, where I live. There’s depression in this family, and anxiety, so I have an interest. There’s Asperger’s in this family too, so I have an interest. And like mother Margaret, I too am an artist and poet, so I have interest.

But I can’t read John Elder’s latest book. It’s the title that’s barring the way. There are indeed Aspies out there whose lives have gone the way John’s has (from what I know of it, which isn’t vast knowledge to be sure). While very young he was lucky enough to know people who knew people in KISS, and so he found a great niche there designing special effects and sound systems. Tinkering with machinery is one of John’s Aspie perseverations (most Aspies have them), and by all reports, he is a whiz at such things. He was able to start his own auto repair business. He is, as far as I know, currently married to his second wife, which means he found at least two women in this world who could love him and make efforts to understand/live with his Aspie differences. For him, and for some other Aspies, being different has paid off.

Then there are the others, and I know full well that I’m not the only one. Those for whom being different has only brought repeated failure, repeated bullying of a dizzying variety of methods, repeated doomed attempts to find a human being who can give love, who will stay, who will learn about the condition. There are Aspie success stories, and there are Aspie non-success stories. In this blog and in my book (, I’m here to write one of the bleak, non-cheerleading stories, hoping that in at least some very limited way, I speak for other Aspies for whom being different has not paid off.

So the title bars the way. I fear a book of excessive optimism, a book of happy phrases telling us how great it is to be autistic, what great things we can do, what great, understanding neurotypicals we can find. My fifty-odd years of living have not borne out all this greatness, and I constantly find other Aspies online whose lives have also not borne this out, this laudable, promise-laden state of being different. For those Aspies (Temple Grandin, Jesse Saperstein, John Michael Carley, and many more) who have been able to find the niches and the people in whose safety they could shine, and do shine, optimism I’m sure makes total sense. But from where I happen to sit at age 50+, and from places where other Aspies of varying ages sit, optimism comes very close to being denial.


read…  Neverending solitaire    
       Scealta liatha… 

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living on threads

 by: mishiPosted on: 02-18-2010 @ 01:19 pm(with this post, the copying of the original Mishi blog from Wrongplanet is FINI! Only new posts from today, being 6 dec 2010. the date above is the original wrongplanet publication date.)



18 Feb 2010…..   Turners Fails —- This may well be the last post I ever write here on Wrongplanet. Though maybe I’ll come here very rarely and write something. Most of all the online writing I’ve been doing for nearly two years is being moved to WordPress. You can make a blog-based website there, and that’s what I’ve been working at since Jan 21. It’s a big job. Two years’ worth of writing that has to be moved around and knitted together with a seemingly endless gang of links.And that’s my existence; that’s all there is for meaning and purpose in my days now. One little guinea pig and one huge website. It isn’t nearly enough. For 55 years I had families of animals. More than one animal and more than one kind. And the more fool I that I didn’t realize the full extent of the meaning and purpose taking care of them gave to my life until it was all stolen by unprincipled, bulllying, neurotypical human beings.  One guinea pig isn’t a family, and that’s not her fault. And a website full of writng about what was done to us, and by whom, and all the ways in which this human cruelty has changed and broken me… well, it may be a good thing, I don’t really know. But as a meaning and a purpose to living, it’s flimsy in the extreme when you compare it to a lifetime of loving and caring for and being loved by a family of breathing creatures, of full and generous spirits.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  website  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


an animal aspie

Page Fifty-one….            Tuesday 25 August 2009    by:mishi                                                                           


Mishi-pup, about 6 mos,    




Greenfield       Peterd: Yes, well, parents. Neither of mine had Asperger’s, I’m quite sure. But they did have PTSD and other diffuculties, and I was always very much an oddball to them. An oddball they didn’t understand. Neither of my siblings is on the autism spectrum either, so I have always stuck out like a sore thumb. Over the years I became increasingly unacceptable to the family, and they increasingly unacceptable to me, so that now I have almost no contact with anyone I’m related to. But I’ve been an oddball in the world at large too. All my life my affinity for animals, and my liking to have a lot of them, has made me a target for criticism. Other things too, but the animals are something that people always used against me with great gusto.

part of the book Neverending Solitaire

all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2008-2011 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.

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They so want me to be delusional

Page Eighteen

mishi…   Posted on: 09-16-2008 @ 01:28 pm



tues 16 sept 2008,  the shelter in Turners Falls… 

 I remember that some months ago I read that 90% of Asperger’s children are subject to bullying at school, and I figure that we can extrapolate from that statistic the fact that all Aspies are much more subject to all kinds of bullying in their lives than NT’s are. And I have indeed experienced a great deal of psychological bullying in my life, but none greater than what the mafia-chick, the psycho landlady, and the federal types have done (or seem by inference to be doing, based on the little information I got from Matthew). They have bullied me in that way, and through my physical illnesses. As if I were the criminal. No, it was the landlady and the other tenant and their pals who were, and are, the criminals, and yet I had everything taken away from me and was hung on a hook to dangle for organized crime (it seems), more than six months ago. What I thought was being done by the DMH alone was, I now know (based, as always, on Matthew’s words), was possibly also being done at the behest of others. I had accidentally, unwittingly stirred up a real, bona fide mob, and though I’ve led a crime-free life, I’ve been the one punished. punished incessantly for 6 months. I seriously doubt they would have hung a woman on a hook who was not poor, or who had a husband or family of humans to stick up for her. Even after they found out in early July that I am autistic, they still didn’t take me off the hook. They haven’t taken me off yet (and Matthew has never yet disputed my belief that I’m somehow bait). I’m sure they wouldn’t have done this behind-the-back, bait-hook “protection” if I weren’t single, or poor, or weird.

Update 14 Sept 2009: I still feel the same way, a year later. If in fact I had this protection done in this underhanded way, then I still believe it was because I was to be used as bait. And I still believe this wouldn’t have been done to me if I’d been of a different social class, and married, and neurotypical. 

And why do certain people so want me to be delusional? Why is it so important to them that this be written down on papers and passed around verbally? I think partly it’s because delusional is a diagnosis certain psychobabbles enjoy making: just as a murder is a more exciting case for a cop than a break-in is, delusional is a more exciting diagnosis for a bonehead to make than, say, clinically depressed. It makes them feel they’re earning their pay. And also people simply don’t want to believe that in this small community the ugly thing that seems to have happened to me vis a vis criminal types and federal types could happen to anyone. Not in this “nice” little community.

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(this post is part of the book Spite and Malice)

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Comment By: Monkfish(Posted on 09-19-2008 @ 10:20 am)
Comment: what a bunch of cunts!



Comment By: Demongirl(Posted on 09-28-2008 @ 11:46 pm)
Comment: I hated elementry and middle school becaused I was bullyed so bad I am totally afriad of any kind of human contact what so ever! So I don’t have any friends, just so I feel safe! I don’t even liked to be touched by a person! EVER! Which is why I’m designing posters for my thesis that promote better treatment of autistic children in school so they will have better lives. It seems like we get the worst end of the stick just because we have some diffilculties. SO NOT FAIR!



Comment By: Dyfi(Posted on 10-01-2008 @ 05:43 am)
Comment: I have Aspergers and I am bullied soooo much. You think thats bad, the teachers fuckin blame it on me. I get hurt, I assaulted someone.



Thoughts Versus Actions

Page Eleven

Posted on: 05-30-2008 @ 01:19 pm     Greenfield



Still May 30…

This is mostly to address a comment autistic-malcontent has left me since this morning. I can accept the NT’s disliking, even detesting me, if I absolutely have to. I’m not very patient with humans and never have been. And over the 11 hell years that I’m still in, I’ve beccome even less patient. Add that to the fact that I come from a family of tempers. I get furious at people a dozen times a day. I mock them, use all of my caustic wit on them both in my journals and in conversation about them, but those are my thoughts and emotions. It’s a rare thing for me to seek any kind of redress or to try to hurt someone other than verbally. My pattern in my life has been almost always to avoid people I dislike, not to try to harm them, deprive them of money, or children or apartment or whatever. This is what I can neither accept nor understand: Why do these NT’s (so many of them in my life) feel they have the right to follow up their negative thoughts and emotions with actions; destructive, cruel ones? Why do they feel they have the right to attack?


Update 7 Aug 2009: I still have the same question: Why? Why have so many neurotypicals taken it upon themselves to actively hurt me, when, if they find me so weird, they could just as easily leave me alone and let me be?

And I have to add that I love the user-name autistic-malcontent. I am certainly one of those (though that is hardly all that I am) and wish I’d thought of that name myself.







Comment By: AutisticMalcontent(Posted on 06-01-2008 @ 11:00 am)
Comment: I can say this much, you are a better person for mocking them in your journals, and not so much in your speech or actions, although you said you do mock them in conversations on occassion. As for myself, I’m very passive and calm, and so was my father and my grandfather. I come from a family of introverts. However, the rude and blatant arrogance of some (not all) neurotypical people has trained me to distrust many of them. I judge a lot by the action of a few to many. I think both you and I like to follow the Golden Rule- “treat others the way you want to be treated”. But some people nowadays, they don’t even know what manners and proper behavior is, it is like they either think they are the King or Queen of England, or they have the selfish mannerisms of a five year old brat. I’m not out for blood, I don’t want conflict, I just want to live in peace with my fellow man. I show everyone respect until they prove otherwise. The reason I think that many NT’s follow up their negative thoughts and emotions with cruel, destructive actions is because of a number of factors: feeling insecure about themselves, immaturity, ignorance, arrogance, selfishness, greed, etc. These are generic, but NT’s have normal mental capabilities, so they can understand things culturally and socially more than we can. And NT’s view things very emotionally, compared to us who view things very logically and sensibly, this is what I believe.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~  website  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

is cuimhin liom na laethe

Page Eight……      by: mishiPosted on: 05-21-2008 @ 09:44 am



May 21, 2008     Greenfield      

 There should be another poem.

Number 4                                      

                              My mutant soul
                              wears thorns that only you
                              My impassioned soul
                              sprouts fires that warmed
                              only you.
                              They’ve taken from me all balance
                              (this isn’t cruel?),
                              all blanketing
                              (this isn’t wrong?),
                              all meaning in the marking
                              of the hours;
                              left me shivering naked
                              in a timeless place.
                              Left me staring
                              into empty space.    

here to the poetry page of my website.

So much of my life I strained to fit in with them, the neurotypicals, strained to fit in at least enough to satisfy that primate need for the companionship of our own kind. And I got meanness, viciousness, abandonment, ridicule, and so on. It’s really only since I started learning about Asperger’s three years ago that I gave up trying to fit at all, gave myself permission to be neurologically different. But they wouldn’t give me permission. Had to keep up with the aggression until I had nothing left.

Update 27 July 2009: What can I say more than a year later? I want to be away from them, most of the humans. I don’t want to look, don’t want to hear, don’t want to speak. I want only the eyes and ears and bodies of the animals I love, who were stolen and hidden here and there, and lies were told to me about where, and I was never allowed to visit any of the ones they let live a while. I don’t want the humans. I have one human, neurotypical friend now. Her voice I want, the sight of her I want. Otherwise the humans are more a burden than they ever were, because they have traumatized me and stolen from me more than I could bear.

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