autistic

Being autistic does not mean I don't have empathy. Stereotypes are harmful. If anything I hyper feel everything and have to try to shut off to cope.

Autism is just the surface. What is inside each of us is what matters, autistic or not.

Don't be sad that I'm autistic. Love me for who I am. All of me. Some things are difficult for me but I'm okay as I am.

That sad sinking feeling you get when you don't fit in even with other autistics

Try to understand how they feel - put yourselves in their place. Imagine you are in a foreign country with no money, possessions or friends. You cannot speak the language; the culture is completely different to your normal environment; isolated and helpless. You would be dependent on someone supporting you. Think of that when you next meet someone who is autistic...

I mean: if you__e going outside to look for your sister, I get it._ Max goes silent. Maybe Mirjam__ death is hitting him now, maybe his voice will choke__ut he goes on. __ut if you__e going outside to help your mother . . ._ He gestures helplessly at my injured arm. His fingers stop a centimeter away, hovering in midair. __on__ risk it. Don__ risk you.___he__ my mother.___he captain will never let her on if she doesn__ even try. Not when there are so many people who haven__ had thechance to try. People we can use on the ship. People who have been on that waiting list forever.__here are a dozen things I want to say. But she__ mymother__s though that means as much as people pretend it does.She is trying, just in a different way__s though I__ convincing myself.I wasn__ on that waiting list, either.I might not be someone the ship can use, as much as I__ trying to be.

That__ very trusting._ Iris watches Anke search our backpacks.__e__e saving people__ lives. We thought we could be,__nke says. I__ more fixated on her arm in my backpack than on what she__ saying, though. That bag is nearly empty, but it__ mine. She__ messing it up. Her hands might not even be clean.When she does stop, I immediately wish she hadn__. __enise,_ she says, __ need to search your bed next.__y gaze flicks to my pillow. __. I. Could I.___he doesn__ like people touching her bed._ Iris stands, guarding me.__ou__e touching it,_ Captain Van Zand__ brother says.Iris shoots him a withering look. __ sat at the foot, which is the only place that__ OK for even me to touch, and I__ her sister.__nke__ sigh sounds closer to a hiss. __ook, we have more rooms to search.__ squirm. No. Not squirm. I__ rocking. Back and forth. __ait,_ I say.__ou can____ Iris goes on.__ust __ause she__ too precious to__ the man argues.__ait,_ I repeat, softer this time, so soft that I__ not even sure Iris hears it. __an I, can I just, wait. I can lift the sheets and mattress myself. You can look. Right? Is that good? Right? Is that good? If I lift them?_ I force my jaw shut.No one says anything for several moments. I can__ tell if Anke is thinking of a counterargument or if she really is trying to make this work. Her lips tighten. __K. If you listen to my instructions exactly.___ou__e indulging her?_ Captain Van Zand__ brother says. __he__ just being difficult. Have you ever seen an autistic kid? Trust me, they__e not the kind to take water scooters into the city like she did.___enise, just get it done,_ Anke snaps.I don__ stand until they__e far enough away from the bed, as if they might jump at me and touch the bed themselves regardless. I blink away tears. It__ dumb, I know that____ treating Anke__ hands like some kind of nuclear hazard__ut this is my space, mine, and too little is left that__ mine as is. I can__ even face Iris. With the way she tried to help, it feels as though I__ betraying her by offering this solution myself.I keep my head low and follow Anke__ orders one-handed. Take off both the satin and regular pillowcases, show her the pillow, shake it (although I tell her she can feel the pillow herself: that__ OK, since the pillowcases will cover it again anyway)__ift the sheets, shake them, lift the mattress long enough for her to shine her light underneath, let her feel the mattress (which is OK, too, since she__ just touching it from the bottom) . . .They tell us to stay in our room for another hour.I wash my hands, straighten the sheets, wash my hands again, and wrap the pillow in its cases.__hat was a good solution,_ Iris says.__orry,_ I mutter.__or what?__eing difficult. Not letting her help me. I keep my eyes on the sheets as I make the bed and let out a small laugh.

She unwinds her scarf, taking so long about it that I wonder if she expects me to respond. __ou were following the rules,_ I offer after a minute. It makes her words no more pleasant. Resentment. Was that how she__ looked at me? Then how am I supposed to trust how she looks at me now?My words elicit a thankful smile. __ostly, though, I knew you could do the job. Did you ever know other autistic people?__ shake my head. I__ heard rumors about one teacher, but never asked him. Mom had encouraged me to find a local support group, but I__ never seen the appeal__r the need. It wouldn__ change anything. I had friends, anyway. Peopleonline, my fellow volunteers at the Way Station. I even got along with Iris__ friends.__ell, I did, and I feel like a fool for never recognizing your autism. I had autistic colleagues at the university. They were accommodated, and they thrived. One researcher came in earlier than everyone else and would stay the longest. I saw the same strengths in you once I knew to look for them. You__e punctual, you__e precise, you__e trustworthy. When you don__ know something, you either figure it out or you ask, and either way, you get it right. I wanted to give you the same chance my colleagues had, and that other Nassau passengers got. One of the doctors is autistic__id you know?_ Els silences an incoming call. __oes that answer your question?