You’re not broken. The System is. You already know that. Here’s one autistic life giving it words… Follow my raw journey from crushing middle-school trauma to the explosive joy of self-guided learning. The education machine missed my genius. Maybe it missed yours, too.
Every clock is a handgun in my autistic time. This is my raw, late-diagnosed autistic elder’s reckoning with deadlines, dread, hyperfocus, lost jobs… and a world built around punch clocks, not feeling. You see, time doesn’t pass for me. It feels.
For this autistic as a kid, school wasn’t preparation for a job. It WAS the job: clock in, perform, conform, and carry it home. A blunt autobiographical fragment about school, work, disability, and the Man’s rules that never seem to end.
Cover graphic for “Autistic Noir: “Maybe Genius Lies Elsewhere”: Autistic Me, Theo & School, Pt 1” Black background with gray and red text above a fragmented black-and-white close-up of a person’s eyes beneath a hat brim; “Frag from the Raw Autobiography” appears at the bottom.
A haiku got me branded a cheat. A homeless psych-dropout named Theo got me branded… maybe genius. Autistic, ADHD, and done trusting school to measure either. Frag 10 of my raw autobiography asks: what if genius never lived in a classroom at all?
I can’t hold eye contact without panic, pain, and sometimes losing myself. This isn’t an autistic “glitch” to train away. It’s my lived reality, and a plea to stop demanding eye contact from autistic people.
From Seven of Nine to Rose Nyland, media relies on stereotypes. Non-autistic portrayals are just tourism on the cheap. As a late-diagnosed auDHD author, I explore pop culture icons. and explain why you can’t act us. Without being us.