Nice to know, however, I still hope that Rodgers and the lawyer spend eternity in a hot little pocket in Hell, compulsively anally raping each other with red-hot pokers. Sorry, Lord, but I don't do forgiveness on this one.
Why?? Because I've had to read another round of articles about how "the mentally ill" shouldn't have a right to self-determination in their care and treatment. (CNN, op-ed).
Because I've had to explain to my frothing grandmother, once again, that yes, I do have Asperger's, and no, I'm not like that guy. And not going to be.
Because I've grabbed my keys and run to the grocery store, and had to stop and wonder how much longer it will be safe for me to do that. To do something that "normal" people can not only afford to take for granted, but can afford to regard as an odious chore.
Because I've looked at my kid, on the way to the developmental neuropsych, and wondered if I shouldn't just turn the car around and let him muddle through on his own, rather than risk saddling him with a diagnosis that could very realistically diminish his personhood just to get "help," and that of questionable effectiveness and quality.
Especially that last one.
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"Alas, our dried voices when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless, as wind in dry grass, or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar." --TS Eliot, "The Hollow Men"