Imagine an elaborate funhouse… the kind that’s a maze. You gotta find your way out. But… with a horror theme.
Welcome to the Treatment Funhouse.
Being trapped in the medical model of autism for decades?
Imagine an elaborate funhouse… the kind that’s a maze. You gotta find your way out. But…
With a horror theme.
The sign outside… “23 mirrored rooms that will change your life… forever!”
Never saw that before. So you stand in the long wait line. That naturally doubles back on itself many times.
Finally you belly up to the barker’s pay window.
“125 bucks?” You cry out.
“You wanna change yer life, kid? Whatchya think it would cost?”
So you sigh. You think. You need… different. You fork over.
First room.
Guy in a jumpsuit, “We gotta strap you in.” He waves at a chair. “Safety,” he adds in a bored voice.
So you sit. You really want… well, something different in your miserable life.
Suddenly he snaps manacles on your wrist. Then behind you, he grabs a blowtorch.
You see this reflected in all the mirrors. You protest. “Hey, what the actual fuck.”
“Trust me this is the latest research. Sure as hell gonna change your life.” That smile. Thin, cold, professional. “We got customers lined up waiting to get in outside. You in… or out.”
You reflect on your miserable life one more time.
You nod.
Then he slowly, methodically works you over. A light burn here. Another there. Starting at your feet. Working upwards.
You scream. You cry. You plead. Not a word out of the jumpsuit.
And… the only way you can block out the horror reflected in those mirrors? Close your eyes…
He finishes.
He unshackles you. Helps you up as you tremble. Guides you efficiently to the door.
“Next room. Room of Knives. Yer gonna love it.” Laughs.
“Just 22 to go.” Leans in… conspiratorially. Whispers in my ear…
“Wait til the Meds room. Everybody talks about the Meds Room.”
Beat.
“If you make it there.”
This is Fragment 1 of a memoir I’m writing in public.
One autistic elder’s life, told in fragments. Like I lived it.
Since 2019 I’ve published a quarter of a million words. Over half the size of the Lord of the Rings trilogy.
Gotta be a pony somewhere in that shit.
Follow the bread crumbs… Full archive here.
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- Drop a comment… What treatment funhouse room would scare you the most?
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every clock is a handgun pointed at my head, art, poetry, and raw neurodivergent truth. Thirteen pieces. One autistic life, unfiltered. Available on Amazon
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I’m an autistic poet and spoken word performer, diagnosed at 63. Now in my 70s. I’ve been publishing AutisticAF Out Loud since 2019… work that refuses to be packaged.
My spoken word piece , every clock is a handgun pointed at my head, was published in Wordgathering, a journal of disability poetry & literature. In 2022, I spoke at the UN World Autism Acceptance Day about my illustration work rooted in autism & ADHD.
I live in a rural Indiana trailer… across the courtyard from my wife’s trailer… with my 2 dogs & cat. Occasionally I shave… to face Walmart.
The algorithms hate me. I must be doing something right.
#SpokenWord #AutismAcceptance #AutisticPoetry
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