The Australian Government, in its infinite alleged wisdom are setting up a committee to look into Autism and enquire about it, why it’s there, what needs must be done, and all that other balderdash.
I know I’ve had some mean things to say about how Autism is treated. This time, it’s all about how to raise your Autiste…
There’s probably a lot of you who flinch every time that Autism word cloud pops up, so I should warn you now.
Let me tell you about this cock-up of epic proportions called “diagnosis”.
You may have already guessed from the picture, but I’m about to go off once again on my favourite topic: Autism.
I am Autistic. If the previous four weeks of articles weren’t a clue, I’m kind’a passionate about the entire social mire surrounding my condition.
Progress has happened. That’s a good thing. Awareness is spreading, more people know what Autism looks like and more people know more about it.
I have had a lifetime of falling through the cracks. Too smart for public school, too dumb to get a free ride with a more elite educational facility.
I was a child for the era in which measles could kill a kid. Hell, I had schoolmates who thought I had died, the year I caught all the spots. They were greatly disappointed that I was still alive, but that’s not the point of this particular diatribe.
Back in the 70’s, Asperger’s didn’t exist. Even if it did, I didn’t fit all the checkboxes.