You Want to Take Away My Window
by Joel
Don't Be Offended!
This is written "to" an imaginary person who represents those people
who can't accept me for who I am. I'm not targeting it at anyone
in particular, nor non-autistics in general.
I am autistic. I've always been autistic, and I always will be
autistic. Autism is part of who I am, just as my sense of humor
or my emotions are part of me. I like who I am, even my autistic
part.
You see, autism isn't an awful condition. I'm not condemned to
an "un-natural life." Yet, I have lived a life with pain, fear,
and confusion. Pain because of your cold heart. Fear because of
my past, and because of my future in a your world, which can't
tolerate uniqueness. Confusion because of my ways of
interpreting your world and because of the deceit, lies, and
apathy in it.
But, I don't just feel pain. I know great joy and peace. I wish
I had words for what it is like inside these walls, where the
noise of the outside world can't destroy my peace. You can't
understand the joy I have in my quiet place, alone and far from
the voices that would destroy, nor can I understand your world of
noise and crowds. You probably can't understand that I enjoy
watching, not participating, in your world, nor can you
understand why I laugh in response to an inner joy. But, that's
all-right with me.
I'm an observer, trying to understand your world. You may not
know this, since you don't even think I see you most of the time.
But, I do see you. I might not be "looking" at you, but I'm
watching you through the window of my house - through the corner
of these eyes. I don't want you to know, though. So, I peer
through the blinds as you walk by.
As I watch you, I get confused. I've seen you say you hate
someone. But, later, when that person approaches you, you tell
him that you love him. Did I see something wrong? Did you
change your mind? People tell me that I'm defective and broken
for not doing the things you do, but I don't understand how you
can say things that you don't believe deep inside. Have you
forgotten where you store your thoughts? What drives you, since
you don't follow your inner beliefs? What gives you your
purpose?
As I watch you, I wonder what life must be like for you. How can
you tolerate a world without right or wrong, but only shades of
gray? How do you know when your actions are wrong, if all actions
are at least a little bit wrong and a little bit right? Is it
painful for you to live in a world full of subtlety and without
boundaries? My walls give me peace and comfort, as I know where
my world ends and yours begins. But, you don't have any walls
around you. What keeps you grounded? I've been told that my
thinking, because of my clear boundaries and rules, is both
limited and deficient. Yet, these boundaries and rules are my
walls. They hold my soul together. What keeps your soul in one
piece?
I don't see your skin color, beauty, or age. I always thought
that everyone deserved to be treated kindly, justly, and lovingly.
Yet, when I gaze outside my walls, through my window, I see your
world which condemns some to a life of pain because of their race,
appearance, or age. You told me as a child that I shouldn't get near
to anyone who was different than me - that I should stay with my
people, and they should stay with theirs. Didn't you realize that
I am different from you, too? Can't you see the inner beauty in
someone that's different on the outside?
Your world tells me that I'm wrong to enjoy my times alone, inside
this house, with only my thoughts to speak to me. You tell me
that I should surround myself with strange voices, to spare me of
the "pain" that comes with thinking and quiet contemplation - that
I should listen to some sort of noise to block out these pesky
thoughts - perhaps the radio, TV, or maybe other voices - that I
should tear down the walls of my house and let these thoughts and
my thoughts mix. But, I ask, wouldn't it destroy my value if I
became one with these other voices?
When I gaze out my window, I wonder why you want to take away my
joy. You claim that you want me to come out and play with you, to
leave the "confines" of my house and enjoy your world. But, you
want to destroy my house when I'm not looking. You want to take
away my window. You see my quietness as a disease that needs to
be cured; my joyful activities a pain to be eliminated; my innocent
eyes a blindness to be treated.
Of course, you can't know why my house is important. Don't you
know that I'd show you what my house is like, if only you would
knock on the door?
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