A very long story, poorly-edited.
I expect to be entering a no-return situation in very short order; where I will be going and what I will be doing, I am uncertain. This post is made to anticipate the possible worst case scenario--which stands a very good chance of happening now more than ever given the circumstances.
There's much to explain about this situation; I'm likely to skip bits and pieces here and there. At this point it doesn't make much of a difference, so long as the story is told. I can fill things in later if I ever get the chance, and I don't seem to have much time left.
So, let's start at the beginning:
I was a child born somewhat premature, and came to learn how to walk before I could crawl; this would actually describe most of my life, come to think of it. My home life was...Sheltered, I suppose you could call it. While my mother was away at law school, my grandparents and my stepfather had taken care of me.
Soon to be a student in the Los Angeles Unified School District, I was classified with what they believed to be "above-average" intelligence; this led me to be transferred into a magnet school program in 4th grade. In an incident with some other student's ownership of a pencil, I had what is now generally known among Asperger subjects as a "meltdown" and was promptly transferred to a special education class. My diagnosis was altered to "ADHD" and "minimal brain damage." (Back then, you see, Asperger Syndrome was not on the DSM. You don't know how lucky you people are.) From then on, the LAUSD would toss me back and forth between schools both public and private, trying to figure out where I "fit" in their system. To make a long story short, they had no idea. I ended up walking out of High School at Grade 11 and taking an equivalency test to escape the system before it drove me insane.
My mother, meanwhile, had known my actual diagnosis for some time, even before it was on the record; as she had become a disability worker--and indeed, was my disability worker at the time--it was difficult to avoid. However, as I was training in vocational school, she herself was earning the family's livelihood in a well-paying interpreting job that (under circumstances that I can only deem as suspicious in the extreme on her employer's part) she lost.
Around this time, my stepfather had also passed away.
This caused my mother to fall into what I can only describe as a psychological downward spiral.
Possibly in her first instinct as a Boomer/Jewish-American Princess, she soon began to control me (and everyone else around her) through guilt; in exchange for buying me items that I was intending to save up and purchase anyway, she believed she could exchange them for my compliance in her affairs. For a while, she did; any individual I introduced her to would immediately be profiled through a career test and three types of astrological reading (my mother was a new-ager). They--or their parents, at least--soon began to come over to listen to her speak, ignoring me entirely.
As a result, I came to realize that I could have no "formal" friends during this period that weren't on a modem or over the internet. So I shut myself up in my room and lived my life that way.
Around this time, her drifting stability had also led her to define "love" in the everyday context of the family as "obligation." "If you love me, you will repay me with renovating the house. Family who love each other will do what the other says."
And she began to demand my SSI as "rent," in ever greater amounts.
That's around where the trouble began.
Mind, I had originally intended to get a job and move out in my late 'teens; if need be, I'd have emancipated myself to accomplish that. However, that is not what happened. My grandparents wanted me to stay with my mother and work things out with her--So out of respect for the people still alive who actually loved me genuinely, I stayed, though I couldn't get a job in that situation; my mother herself had alluded to the fact that if I did, she would demand more money from me in compensation. So I remained on fixed income, while my mother slowly bled it from me--in ever greater measure.
As I wouldn't get employed (and thus, give her more money), she began to call me "worthless" on a regular basis. She began to open my (damaged, lock-lacking) door on a regular basis with greater and greater frequency and demand that I do things for her if I wasn't being employed; I had tried to explain to her that I was working on my portfolio (and, at the time, I indeed was); however, she had not given me any time to let me proceed with it. Nor would she ever.
My grandparents eventually ended up in a rehabilitation hospital; in that environment, the conditions they were brought in for were only made worse. While they were interned there, their house would also fall into ruin--overtaken by squatters and poisonous plants--and my grandparents wanted nothing to do with the place anymore. They signed away the property to my mother with the understanding that it would be sold "as-is."
My mother had other ideas. Going against their wishes, she decided that she was going to renovate the property and rent it out for a continued source of income (having picked up this idea through some "multiple sources of income"-related books she'd read). For the sake of this endeavor, she intended to put me to work cleaning the property up--an endeavor well-nigh impossible for only three people working twelve hours a day, seven days a week. Because it was against my grandparents' wishes, I tried to refuse. That infuriated her; she began to threaten me with being placed in a board and care facility, as "obviously" I couldn't take care of myself.
Further, she began to spend money she didn't have on the equipment she needed. That included mine. She had ordered a credit card in my name, forging my signature when I wouldn't comply; on my birthday near the end of August, 2005, she had intended to have me "max out" the credit card in order to pay for a cast iron fence for the rear of the property.
Knowing that I would be trapped there until my mother decided to resolve my credit record, I took as many of my important belongings as I could and ran, intending to use that same card to buy a train ticket to New Mexico (where a friend had given me an offer to stay for as long as was neccesary). My mother, being quick to react, had this card canceled on a fraud charge (How she managed to do this I'm still uncertain) and withdrew money from my bank account using a forged signature and naming herself "trustee;" likely in an attempt to keep me from leaving.
She'd still left me enough to leave, however, so I let it slide and, after staying at another friend's house for a few days, went on to Albuquerque.
(A week after I'd arrived, my grandparents died from a respiratory infection contracted in the rehabilitation hospital. My mother had sent me an email blaming me for their deaths, which took me a great deal of time to get over--No, I haven't gotten over it completely. Not sure I ever will.)
My friend in Albuquerque had known about Asperger Syndrome; however, she was in an iffy psychological situation herself, in the process refusing to accept that I had an auditory deficit. Using the credit card (which I'd managed to reopen and reissue) I'd paid my way to getting set up in the manner I thought would best position me to finish my portfolio, among other things that were left unfinished. I'd also paid for furniture for my friend and her wife while I was at it, being assured that I'd be paid back.
I never was. My desk--having been set up in the living room--was at too close a proximity to the television I'd bought them. Earplugs obviously not working (as the loudest noise in the room was what came into focus regardless, thanks to the auditory deficit I have), I buckled and had another meltdown. This resulted in my friend throwing me against the wall, then ordering me to leave right after that.
Slowly backpedaling, she wanted me to stay in a nearby youth hostel and take a job so she could keep an eye on me...But I couldn't stay in Albquerque any longer after what had happened. I took another train back to Los Angeles.
(Several weeks after I'd left, that friend of mine and her wife broke up, presumably anulled; she is currently living in debt elsewhere, out of a hotel room. As of this writing, she owes me nearly $500 that I never expect to get back.)
For the past year I've been living with two other friends, previously classmates at the vocational school I attended. Around March of last year, they began to demand that I get a job, so I contacted my local Regional Center and Department of Rehabilitation branch, as (in the state I was in, still trying to recover on my own, as I hadn't and still haven't found a nearby psychologist that takes Medi-Cal) I didn't want to jump into a situation where I was mentally unprepared.
(In the middle of the year, my mother filed a credit report in my name and found out where I lived. She petitioned for my conservatorship. Thankfully, on the first day of the case her petition was denied "with predjudice.")
Currently, I live out in this apartment's living room, not being an official tenant; I pay "utilities," not rent, as I'm not supposed to officially be here. There's obviously no privacy. I sleep on an inflatable bed that must be deflated every morning on my friends' insistence; they think the owner of the building might catch me here if he sees it, even though I've been told by a previous tenant that the owner doesn't ever bother to show up unless there's a complaint. (My inflating the bed every night is actually more likely to get me thrown out; the next-door neighbor--who apparently knows the owner--has complained about the noise of the electric pump on more than one instance, as he can hear it through the wall.)
Worst of all, though, they play Halo 2 every Saturday night--loudly--from 7 PM to 3-5 AM, bringing in as many people as they possibly can every weekend. Sometimes they do it more than once a week, particularly during holidays; due to the nature of my auditory deficit, any noise is impossible to avoid as a result. At least one meltdown has resulted due to these parties happening.
My disability services were set up around August, though by that time my friends had run out of patience. They didn't see the reason why I needed to set these things up; they didn't even believe I had a disability. (One of the two friends refuses to believe in Asperger's in general, as he believes "high-functioning autism" is a contradiction in terms. I'd later learned that his younger brother had Aspergoid tendencies, which they "fixed" by disciplining him to suppress. I'm afraid to elaborate further.) They believed I was "making excuses" for not going out and getting a job, unassisted.
I had tried to explain why this is so to them, as did my regional center counselor, my independent living services worker, and one of my case workers at the Department of Rehabilitation branch. All of these explanations were rejected out-of-hand; my friends still want me to get a job by the 20th, or they're placing "further restrictions" on me until I do. They believe that if they "tough love" me, I'll react faster.
Even though they think they're helping me, they don't get it. They refuse to.
Regardless, I've applied to various places of work, mainly out of respect for them (even though I might not keep them for very long, in the state I'm in). I have not heard any response from any of them. I am likely not to hear any until well after the 20th, at this rate.
That brings us to today.
Though I'm grateful that I have a roof over my head, I'm dealing with people who don't understand my disability and aren't willing to give me any more slack after a years' worth of what they believe to be "no results" in terms of getting a job and moving out. I know, really, that all they want is their living room back. I've obviously also been looking for a room for rent--on Craigslist and otherwise--but so far the proposition of me finding any sort of apartment before the 20th looks bleak indeed, particularly since everything in this area involve security deposits. (I can't move out of this area, either, unless I want to lose my disability services for at least a month.) I've been told that placement in a nearby group home is an option, but I won't know its viability until at least the 20th, as well.
On top of that, my mother--not to be outdone--has filed a lawsuit against me, demanding money that she had placed in my bank account with no explanation, "plus damages." She is also insisting that the conservatorship dismissal was a farce and intends to have the decision stricken from the record. One thing at a time, though; the suit is seen at the end of the month, provided I last that long.
And on top of that, I have that credit card to pay off--with an ever-increasing minimum. So I'm going to have to get a job regardless of whether my friends demand it or not.
The next month or so will determine whether I survive this gauntlet. If I don't, and I'm out on the street...Here be my story, etched in stone, for future Asperger subjects. A tale of extremes; one of a child who lived in fear of someone who argued that he'd never amount to anything due to his disability, forced to become a man living in fear of people who argue that he doesn't have a disability at all.
Let it never be said that I don't long for balance in my life...
(Feel free to discuss!)
tinky
Veteran
Joined: 24 Mar 2006
Age: 34
Gender: Female
Posts: 8,015
Location: en la luna bailando con las vacas
yeah, i'll get right to reading that...*waits for someone to read zengarzombolt's long story so i can pretend like i read it*
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tinky is currently trying to overcome anatidaephobia. They're out there and they will find you...
tinky's WP Mod email account: [email protected]
you may tire of the world but the world will never tire of you
Something needs to be done about this sort of thing. And I'm not talking about changing the people involved, because that doesn't solve anything; in fact, it would likely only increase their hatred of people they don't understand (such as, those with AS). Rather, there should be people who prevent this sort of thing from happening. It isn't fair that the ones who suffer most are the ones who deserve to suffer the least, while those in good positions complain about how terrible their lives are. And it isn't that it's just not fair (the world isn't fair by definition, I think everyone here already knows that), it just isn't right. Where have our morals gone? Where is the world we strived for, so long ago? How have our hopes and dreams, which millions have fought and died for in the past, been left aside and trampled underfoot? We need to do something, the question is, what CAN we do?
So long as people aren't willing to help, so long as they remain selfish and self-centered, these sorts of things will always happen. And the worst part? They don't care. Good, honest people who never did anything wrong are being punished because someone else wants to "play Halo 2". And now, a good, honest person might end up on the streets. Screw fairness, where's the justice, people?
I would do anything I could to stop this (and I'm sure many of you agree with me), but the problem is, what do you do without direction? Where do you go, with no one to guide you? And how can people be trusted to make the right decisions, those that better their fellow man, when they aren't taught the right way in the first place? It's tough, but there's really no answer yet.
If (and when) I become succesful, and even if I don't, that's what I would like to try and correct. It might not be easy, and it might take longer than I'll have on this earth, but getting it started is half the battle. Am I right?
Heheh, then again, I'm just a teenager. What do I know?
Hi ZengarZombolt,
Jeez, what a story! You have had a tough time and I wish I could offer you some advice but I live in the UK and am unfamiliar with the system in the US, so I can only make a few suggestions that I would to someone in the UK, maybe you have similar organisations? Fisrt, may I ask how old you are? And if you have someone still helping you, like a social worker, rehab officer, could you ask for help in getting a place of your own?
We have an organisation here - citizens advice bureau where people can get free advice about housing, money, legal advice that type of thing and this is also available at some solicitors offices (lawyers). There should be someone who can help you, especially with your being disabled.
Can you write to the credit card company and tell them you are doing your best to pay but explain your difficulties and ask them to freeze the interest?
Hopefully someone from the US will be able to offer you some advice, who might know more agencies that could help you.
I hope things get easier for you, I really do. Post again if it helps.
Well, bear in mind my mother knows a great deal about my condition herself, otherwise she couldn't have passed herself off as my disability worker for as long as she has. Besides, this suit is only about the money she says I owe her, nothing more; though she's presenting evidence claiming my disability has something to do with it, it really isn't at all relevant.
Now, if she actually manages to warp reality and serve another conservatorship petition, then I might need some help on the witness end of things. So far, though, that hasn't happened. I should also have my regional center to help me out on that end if it comes to that, as well. (They're not allowed to get involved with the lawsuit as they claim it's a "personal matter.")
Heh. Tell me about it.
The present state of things, though, is that aside from an invitation to one "open house" (apparently a dud, as I wasn't called back) no potential employers have responded that I've sent applications and/or resumes to. Further, there will be restrictions on my Social Security income when I move into a group home--probably based on a percentage of the income I make per month. From the explanation, it seems as if any job I'd have while living there wouldn't add to my income in any way, making employment nearly pointless in that situation.
But it's probably not quite like that; I'll know more next week.
I actually have two agencies at my disposal where I live. We've already gone over all of the options, and (sadly) moving into a group home's the only recourse that I have at the moment. The people who let me live here are sick of me waiting for their assistance; they haven't seen tangible results and they blame them for "holding me back."
As said: they don't get it.
(Told them yesterday that I'd be moving into a group home; now they're warning me that I'm making a mistake--when they're the ones who put me in this position by not being patient for a little while longer. Now they're probably going to accuse me of "running away"--as if I had a choice to begin with! Yeesh--)
On Monday I'm calling a number for one of their departments that I was given last week; going to explain the situation to them. Not sure it'll help but I guess it's worth a shot.
Not here for answers. Conclusions in this instance are foregone; I've researched my options quite thoroughly and I'm fairly certain I've run out of them. I am resigned to my fate.
Just telling my story. That's all. These two people are taking away my internet access as part of my "punishment," however, so you probably won't get to hear the end of it for quite some time (or at least until I'm resituated). Sorry to have to leave you all hanging like this.
Hope it's been informative, though!
tinky
Veteran
Joined: 24 Mar 2006
Age: 34
Gender: Female
Posts: 8,015
Location: en la luna bailando con las vacas
okay, i've read the beginning of the story and it sounds like you've had a hard life. i'm glad i could have a proper diagnosis of asperger's rather than ADHD and minimal brain damage.
_________________
tinky is currently trying to overcome anatidaephobia. They're out there and they will find you...
tinky's WP Mod email account: [email protected]
you may tire of the world but the world will never tire of you
There's much to explain about this situation; I'm likely to skip bits and pieces here and there. At this point it doesn't make much of a difference, so long as the story is told. I can fill things in later if I ever get the chance, and I don't seem to have much time left.
So, let's start at the beginning:
I was a child born somewhat premature, and came to learn how to walk before I could crawl; this would actually describe most of my life, come to think of it. My home life was...Sheltered, I suppose you could call it. While my mother was away at law school, my grandparents and my stepfather had taken care of me.
Soon to be a student in the Los Angeles Unified School District, I was classified with what they believed to be "above-average" intelligence; this led me to be transferred into a magnet school program in 4th grade. In an incident with some other student's ownership of a pencil, I had what is now generally known among Asperger subjects as a "meltdown" and was promptly transferred to a special education class. My diagnosis was altered to "ADHD" and "minimal brain damage." (Back then, you see, Asperger Syndrome was not on the DSM. You don't know how lucky you people are.) From then on, the LAUSD would toss me back and forth between schools both public and private, trying to figure out where I "fit" in their system. To make a long story short, they had no idea. I ended up walking out of High School at Grade 11 and taking an equivalency test to escape the system before it drove me insane.
My mother, meanwhile, had known my actual diagnosis for some time, even before it was on the record; as she had become a disability worker--and indeed, was my disability worker at the time--it was difficult to avoid. However, as I was training in vocational school, she herself was earning the family's livelihood in a well-paying interpreting job that (under circumstances that I can only deem as suspicious in the extreme on her employer's part) she lost.
Around this time, my stepfather had also passed away.
This caused my mother to fall into what I can only describe as a psychological downward spiral.
Possibly in her first instinct as a Boomer/Jewish-American Princess, she soon began to control me (and everyone else around her) through guilt; in exchange for buying me items that I was intending to save up and purchase anyway, she believed she could exchange them for my compliance in her affairs. For a while, she did; any individual I introduced her to would immediately be profiled through a career test and three types of astrological reading (my mother was a new-ager). They--or their parents, at least--soon began to come over to listen to her speak, ignoring me entirely.
As a result, I came to realize that I could have no "formal" friends during this period that weren't on a modem or over the internet. So I shut myself up in my room and lived my life that way.
Around this time, her drifting stability had also led her to define "love" in the everyday context of the family as "obligation." "If you love me, you will repay me with renovating the house. Family who love each other will do what the other says."
And she began to demand my SSI as "rent," in ever greater amounts.
That's around where the trouble began.
Mind, I had originally intended to get a job and move out in my late 'teens; if need be, I'd have emancipated myself to accomplish that. However, that is not what happened. My grandparents wanted me to stay with my mother and work things out with her--So out of respect for the people still alive who actually loved me genuinely, I stayed, though I couldn't get a job in that situation; my mother herself had alluded to the fact that if I did, she would demand more money from me in compensation. So I remained on fixed income, while my mother slowly bled it from me--in ever greater measure.
As I wouldn't get employed (and thus, give her more money), she began to call me "worthless" on a regular basis. She began to open my (damaged, lock-lacking) door on a regular basis with greater and greater frequency and demand that I do things for her if I wasn't being employed; I had tried to explain to her that I was working on my portfolio (and, at the time, I indeed was); however, she had not given me any time to let me proceed with it. Nor would she ever.
My grandparents eventually ended up in a rehabilitation hospital; in that environment, the conditions they were brought in for were only made worse. While they were interned there, their house would also fall into ruin--overtaken by squatters and poisonous plants--and my grandparents wanted nothing to do with the place anymore. They signed away the property to my mother with the understanding that it would be sold "as-is."
My mother had other ideas. Going against their wishes, she decided that she was going to renovate the property and rent it out for a continued source of income (having picked up this idea through some "multiple sources of income"-related books she'd read). For the sake of this endeavor, she intended to put me to work cleaning the property up--an endeavor well-nigh impossible for only three people working twelve hours a day, seven days a week. Because it was against my grandparents' wishes, I tried to refuse. That infuriated her; she began to threaten me with being placed in a board and care facility, as "obviously" I couldn't take care of myself.
Further, she began to spend money she didn't have on the equipment she needed. That included mine. She had ordered a credit card in my name, forging my signature when I wouldn't comply; on my birthday near the end of August, 2005, she had intended to have me "max out" the credit card in order to pay for a cast iron fence for the rear of the property.
Knowing that I would be trapped there until my mother decided to resolve my credit record, I took as many of my important belongings as I could and ran, intending to use that same card to buy a train ticket to New Mexico (where a friend had given me an offer to stay for as long as was neccesary). My mother, being quick to react, had this card canceled on a fraud charge (How she managed to do this I'm still uncertain) and withdrew money from my bank account using a forged signature and naming herself "trustee;" likely in an attempt to keep me from leaving.
She'd still left me enough to leave, however, so I let it slide and, after staying at another friend's house for a few days, went on to Albuquerque.
(A week after I'd arrived, my grandparents died from a respiratory infection contracted in the rehabilitation hospital. My mother had sent me an email blaming me for their deaths, which took me a great deal of time to get over--No, I haven't gotten over it completely. Not sure I ever will.)
My friend in Albuquerque had known about Asperger Syndrome; however, she was in an iffy psychological situation herself, in the process refusing to accept that I had an auditory deficit. Using the credit card (which I'd managed to reopen and reissue) I'd paid my way to getting set up in the manner I thought would best position me to finish my portfolio, among other things that were left unfinished. I'd also paid for furniture for my friend and her wife while I was at it, being assured that I'd be paid back.
I never was. My desk--having been set up in the living room--was at too close a proximity to the television I'd bought them. Earplugs obviously not working (as the loudest noise in the room was what came into focus regardless, thanks to the auditory deficit I have), I buckled and had another meltdown. This resulted in my friend throwing me against the wall, then ordering me to leave right after that.
Slowly backpedaling, she wanted me to stay in a nearby youth hostel and take a job so she could keep an eye on me...But I couldn't stay in Albquerque any longer after what had happened. I took another train back to Los Angeles.
(Several weeks after I'd left, that friend of mine and her wife broke up, presumably anulled; she is currently living in debt elsewhere, out of a hotel room. As of this writing, she owes me nearly $500 that I never expect to get back.)
For the past year I've been living with two other friends, previously classmates at the vocational school I attended. Around March of last year, they began to demand that I get a job, so I contacted my local Regional Center and Department of Rehabilitation branch, as (in the state I was in, still trying to recover on my own, as I hadn't and still haven't found a nearby psychologist that takes Medi-Cal) I didn't want to jump into a situation where I was mentally unprepared.
(In the middle of the year, my mother filed a credit report in my name and found out where I lived. She petitioned for my conservatorship. Thankfully, on the first day of the case her petition was denied "with predjudice.")
Currently, I live out in this apartment's living room, not being an official tenant; I pay "utilities," not rent, as I'm not supposed to officially be here. There's obviously no privacy. I sleep on an inflatable bed that must be deflated every morning on my friends' insistence; they think the owner of the building might catch me here if he sees it, even though I've been told by a previous tenant that the owner doesn't ever bother to show up unless there's a complaint. (My inflating the bed every night is actually more likely to get me thrown out; the next-door neighbor--who apparently knows the owner--has complained about the noise of the electric pump on more than one instance, as he can hear it through the wall.)
Worst of all, though, they play Halo 2 every Saturday night--loudly--from 7 PM to 3-5 AM, bringing in as many people as they possibly can every weekend. Sometimes they do it more than once a week, particularly during holidays; due to the nature of my auditory deficit, any noise is impossible to avoid as a result. At least one meltdown has resulted due to these parties happening.
My disability services were set up around August, though by that time my friends had run out of patience. They didn't see the reason why I needed to set these things up; they didn't even believe I had a disability. (One of the two friends refuses to believe in Asperger's in general, as he believes "high-functioning autism" is a contradiction in terms. I'd later learned that his younger brother had Aspergoid tendencies, which they "fixed" by disciplining him to suppress. I'm afraid to elaborate further.) They believed I was "making excuses" for not going out and getting a job, unassisted.
I had tried to explain why this is so to them, as did my regional center counselor, my independent living services worker, and one of my case workers at the Department of Rehabilitation branch. All of these explanations were rejected out-of-hand; my friends still want me to get a job by the 20th, or they're placing "further restrictions" on me until I do. They believe that if they "tough love" me, I'll react faster.
Even though they think they're helping me, they don't get it. They refuse to.
Regardless, I've applied to various places of work, mainly out of respect for them (even though I might not keep them for very long, in the state I'm in). I have not heard any response from any of them. I am likely not to hear any until well after the 20th, at this rate.
That brings us to today.
Though I'm grateful that I have a roof over my head, I'm dealing with people who don't understand my disability and aren't willing to give me any more slack after a years' worth of what they believe to be "no results" in terms of getting a job and moving out. I know, really, that all they want is their living room back. I've obviously also been looking for a room for rent--on Craigslist and otherwise--but so far the proposition of me finding any sort of apartment before the 20th looks bleak indeed, particularly since everything in this area involve security deposits. (I can't move out of this area, either, unless I want to lose my disability services for at least a month.) I've been told that placement in a nearby group home is an option, but I won't know its viability until at least the 20th, as well.
On top of that, my mother--not to be outdone--has filed a lawsuit against me, demanding money that she had placed in my bank account with no explanation, "plus damages." She is also insisting that the conservatorship dismissal was a farce and intends to have the decision stricken from the record. One thing at a time, though; the suit is seen at the end of the month, provided I last that long.
And on top of that, I have that credit card to pay off--with an ever-increasing minimum. So I'm going to have to get a job regardless of whether my friends demand it or not.
The next month or so will determine whether I survive this gauntlet. If I don't, and I'm out on the street...Here be my story, etched in stone, for future Asperger subjects. A tale of extremes; one of a child who lived in fear of someone who argued that he'd never amount to anything due to his disability, forced to become a man living in fear of people who argue that he doesn't have a disability at all.
Let it never be said that I don't long for balance in my life...
(Feel free to discuss!)
I bet it's an interesting story, but I don't care to endeavor in reading it.
I read every word.
Holy sh*t it truly makes me feel lucky to have a supportive mother.
I truly wish I could help you, I guess the most important thing I can think of is not worrying whether they believe you or not, as they're obviously not supportive friends that will remove certain things in order to "help you".
What I'm saying is you already know what you need to focus on, and if you don't give up you will get the work you need. However remove their disbelief as an aspect of your focus if you can, it doesn't help you to be questioning yourself and your abilities because of some close minded foolishness.
I can't believe your own mother is doing this to you, you need to find a way to make her unable to touch your bank, your money, your savings, your assets, and everything else.
You probably already know what I've said, I was very touched by your story and its reminded me to continue pushing myself.
Sorry if it didn't help, take care of yourself, we're always here!
_________________
All hail the new flesh, cause it suits me fine!
Then, on behalf of the preservation of forum etiquette, I beg you: please don't quote the entire body of a long post just for a one-line reply. It forces people to page down past your post and makes Baby Jesus cry.
Seriously. Just don't.
[quote="Scintillate wrote:
You just put your finger on the reason why I'm moving into a group home--as soon as humanly possible.
I left my mother's house to get away from the phrase "it's for your own good;" the last thing I need is for my friends to start the cycle all over again.
If I'm away from such pressure, I'll be much better off when I'm actually employed. (Though I still need to find a psychiatrist that takes Medi-Cal around here...)
Don't worry about that; I've long since taken steps to make certain that she can't. Court really is her last stand--and it doesn't help her case any that she always insists on representing herself. (There's an old saying about attorneys who represent themselves--)
I didn't come here looking for help. Talking it out definitely does sort of help, if only a little. Doesn't solve the problem, though.
Tonight is the night before my friends pull the plug on my internet "as punishment" for not having a job by the 20th. This was something they knew I had no control over; regardless, they're doing it anyway, most likely to make themselves feel better...So if you see me again, it'll most likely be posting from a room in a group home.
And, well...In case I'm by here again, might have a question you can help me with:
For all my life, society has (and individuals living in same have) either branded me a severely developmentally-disabled individual who isn't capable of taking care of himself, or as a normal human being with a "bad personality" that needs to be beaten out of him (well, figuratively). Society, for some reason, can't comprehend that I'm neither of these; in their eyes, either I'm disabled or I'm normal. I'm either helpless or need no help.
Yet all I know is that I'm neither of those. I can't say for certain who I actually am.
If you've read my story...Maybe you can tell me, because I don't know. Where do I fit into that societal puzzle? Who am I supposed to be?
Because, after having survived 30 years of life, I still really don't know, myself...
Adios. Take care.
All right, a bit of an update:
- It turns out that my regional center isn't letting me have a group home or a board and care; I'm too high-functioning, apparently. Fortunately, my friends here have allowed me to stay here until at least January. (Mercifully, I've also found an effective method to deal with the Halo they play every Saturday night; an aquaintance just bought a house half a block away. They're usually out that night. He's allowing me to crash on his couch for the duration, which means being left alone until at least 2 AM. At least that's the major bullet dodged. I've also gotten them to actually help me with the employment they want me to have, too, and they're doing that in a meaningful way; see below...)
- Against all odds (and her even being asked to leave the courtroom at one point), my mother won the lawsuit against me. I intend to appeal and am currently seeking legal help, since I'm allowed to be represented in an appeal. So far, I've contacted a couple of pro-bono agencies in the LA area: one of them has stated that they're taking no new cases until early January, and the other hasn't called back at all...So I may well be on my own again, here.
- I had a job interview. I'm unsure of whether I'm getting said job; suppose I'll find out next week. My credit card company's raising my interest rate, so it seems I might not have much time left unless I get a job in general--So I'm continuing to send out job applications, regardless. The Department of Rehabilitation is coming through with on-side assistance on my next job interview if needed, so that should help me at the very least.
That's about all there is. Sorry for the necropost.
tinky
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Joined: 24 Mar 2006
Age: 34
Gender: Female
Posts: 8,015
Location: en la luna bailando con las vacas
...
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you may tire of the world but the world will never tire of you
Last edited by tinky on 14 Dec 2006, 5:11 pm, edited 3 times in total.
tinky
Veteran
Joined: 24 Mar 2006
Age: 34
Gender: Female
Posts: 8,015
Location: en la luna bailando con las vacas
i necropost a lot so, don't worry.
it sounds like you have a lot going on in your life. i'm not good/don't like doing with the whole evaluation of what you just read thing so, that's all i'll say.
_________________
tinky is currently trying to overcome anatidaephobia. They're out there and they will find you...
tinky's WP Mod email account: [email protected]
you may tire of the world but the world will never tire of you
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