In my autistic ramparts, I’ve always felt safe.
Often, I resort to estrangement behaviors to preserve my perceived sheltered existence. They allow me the breathing room I frequently need to recalibrate and face the coldness of reality with my own meaning of life. It’s a defense mechanism that’s essential for my mental acuity.
I have not discovered a better way to “wire in” to my creative energy, for the purpose of fashioning a new world within my mind.
Contrary to popular belief, and even clinical inference, my autism doesn’t translate into the absence of empathy. While the chief diagnostic signs of autism are social isolation, poor language capacity, and the lack of responsiveness and compassion, it’s because of my upbringing that I escaped the cruelest effects of its mental warp.
My parents were both genius level in their pragmatic methods of rearing their children. Throughout my nurturing period, even into adolescence, I was routinely showered with affection, and physical contact was maintained. Equally, my parents were not afraid to permit me to exist in my own way.
My beloved Father, a black hole alpha male, was capable of conquering and obliterating all energy from any room, person, or situation, but was kind enough not to. My beloved Mother was a heroine, possessed with the dynamic personality of a zenith Etruscan woman, at the height of her independence, yet full of sympathetic caring and quiet sensitivity that immersed me in love and earthen purity.
In my dark, cold, autistic consciousness, I never doubted my Mom and Dad loved me.
It was this balance, between genomic composition and environmental reality, that saved my consciousness from certain doom. In this equilibrium, my entire life has maintained a consciousness between two parallel universes that occasionally have collided.
They must collide because I am compelled to be a conscious observer.
Mine is a struggle to be a conscious observer, peering into both universes with a relentless spirit of worship that resists and annihilates any and all extremities. From an enclosed autistic universe, I battle darkened enemies composed of spirit, mind, and flesh, in the uncompromising objective to breakout and seek the salvation of an unlimited consciousness, where guilt and death no longer control outcomes.
It is the universe of I am.
Releasing my fear and limitations, it is within my autistic consciousness where I create a better world that can only exist in a great and excellent state of mind. In that better world, right strives to defeat might, innocence remains paramount to the soul, and love and truth control all fate and destiny.
In that special place, I am persuaded that no height, no depth, not even death, can separate me from the love of my God.
I can say this from the inside of the event horizon of my black hole consciousness, looking out, as well as from the outside of my event horizon. If you have an autistic kid and want to make a positive difference in the course and direction of his/her life, I can think of one thing that can outweigh all disabilities. It’s the same advice I’d give to any parent, regarding any child.
No matter how dark the road, no matter how hard the travel, no matter how far the destination, no matter how little or how much you can offer them in support, it’s the best advice I can give anyone.
Every single day, love your child.
Tell them how much you love them.
More importantly, show them.
Photos: Jordan Whitt, Wil Stewart, Zan Douglas, Kamesh Vedula
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