I sometimes wonder how NTs experience their food preferences, because for me it often goes beyond "I don't want to eat this" to "the thought of eating this makes me lose my appetite and it is mental-physical struggle to do so". Part of it is certainly comfort in the familiar (I feel rather bad for my parents on that trip to Europe--but I was 14 and a known picky eater, so it couldn't have been surprising), but sometimes it's not a choice not to eat something, it's an actual inability where the very act of biting, chewing and swallowing is a difficult enterprise. Even though I've broadened my tastes a lot as an adult, eating out can still sometimes be tricky because stuff like tomatoes and mushrooms are EVERYWHERE *twitch*.

Sometimes I think we need to have a good discussion on 'fixing' versus 'adapting/accommodating', and the discussion here is a prime example of why. The first example to come to mind is the one I'll run with, so hopefully this makes my thoughts on this clear--let's say you're paralyzed from the waist down. 'Fixing' in this case would be to remove the paralysis, while 'adapting' would be using a wheelchair.

Of course, with autism it gets much dicier because of how intrinsically our differences become tied to our identity, but that's also why I think that distinction is so important. You can find ways to deal with the various issues that people on the spectrum have to deal with that don't involve 'curing' autism. The ND movement seems to get characterized often as being against any treatments at all, and while I'm sure some people feel that way, I don't see that as being the goal. The goal is simply to be treated as human beings with our own strengths and weaknesses, who may have unusual needs that need to be taken into account. The same way any human wants to be treated.

Society rarely treats anyone insufficiently 'normal' in such a way though. The prevailing attitude is that anyone abnormal needs to be made normal. This attitude leads to a lack of supports for autistics and their families, and it both directly and indirectly feeds tragedies like the Hodgins case.

This hits what I found the most troubling aspects of this post. For the most part I identify strongly with it, but the idea seen here and elsewhere that people with 'normal' lives are fine grates. I'm only mildly autistic--I don't use or really need any services--but the fact remains that I always have and always will have certain things I struggle with, especially when it comes to relating to other people. Getting diagnosed (at 24) was great because it took all these little oddities that I had noticed over the years and put them into a framework that made sense. It has allayed my greatest fear (that I'm 'broken') and given me a way to understand myself better, as well as a framework to start sorting through the issues I have. More importantly, though, it has given me a way to connect to other people like me, letting me know that I'm not alone.

Personally, my biggest fear with the changes isn't access to services, but access to understanding and validation of the challenges we face. Services are important, no doubt, but simply having the label is valuable on its own.

I remember when I started taking anti-depressants, I was afraid that I wouldn't be me anymore. What I found was the opposite--I went back to the person I was before the depression set in. IOW, I'm more 'me' on the meds than off.

The difference with autism being, there is no time 'before' to go back to. And autism has a more profound effect than depression does. As much as I wish I didn't have the social struggles to deal with, I'm not going to sacrifice who I am. (And to quote Mystique--I shouldn't have to)

I applaud you for having the strength to write this. I wish I had the strength right now to finish reading it, but around the point of 'having a tantrum over not having it their way' I felt a headache starting to come on. As usual, we have to adapt to others, but others don't have to adapt to us.

Time for violent video game therapy.

No kidding. Forget special needs, any kid is going to get tired and bored and cranky from time to time, and you don't always have the option of removing yourself and your child from the situation.

The one experience that sticks in my mind is a couple years ago when we were flying back from Canada, when they weren't letting you do ANYTHING the last hour of the flight, and there was a pre-schooler behind me with her father. And I'll be honest--it was annoying. She wasn't particularly loud, but she wasn't happy either. But you know what? Neither was I. I was also bored out of my mind, and I was old enough to understand why there were arbitrary rules about not having anything on your lap and having to keep your seatbelt on. As annoying as it was, I also felt bad for both her and her father, because there was nothing either of them could do to make the situation better. And I sure as hell wasn't going to complain about her acting up--expecting her to sit still for a full hour (without any distractions) was ridiculous.
My recent post Apologies

Kind of off topic, but this brings me back to my first day of university. "We don't torture you because we're sadistic. We do it because we believe that learning comes from suffering."

Really, the only reason college is so important is because everyone thinks college is important. The more we push people into college, the less it means.

Which isn't to say that college doesn't have value, but the focus in our culture is ridiculous.

Amen on all points. Setting aside the education issue, often what would be helpful to PWDs would also be helpful to the population at large. If only society would stop kidding itself about valuing diversity maybe we'd actually be able to get somewhere on the issue.

And sometimes that something small is the umpteenth something small. It wears on you after a while.