Thoughts on “nonverbal” Autism with Intellectual Disability, etc.

I spent 7 hours on the block yesterday, the inpatient residential. The last 3 was with 2 particular young adults, while shadowing the house mother. The majority of the time, “Vlad” was in the kitchen, cooking an assortment of things, for tonight, and tomorrow, to pack for work, at his internship. He used a lot of Lawry’s, that I could smell clearly. I taught him how to defrost meat in the microwave according to weight. In retrospect, I really like that kid. I, too, spend hours in the kitchen, prepping, cooking, and cleaning, and just for my own pleasure and health. I go all out, just for moi. I’m truly BLESSED with good food. I’ll never stop being grateful. I gained a couple more pounds. Like Cardi B say, “this ass is thick like peanut butter/ bitches jelly about it!” hahha facts. Well, you know it aint forever, when you’re eating this good.

So while Vlad was cooking his ribs with Lawrey’s seasoning salt to a crisp, I was in the hang-out area with… Egor. Egor has a ice-queen face, beautiful blond hair, blue eye features, like me (not the bluest eye, thank you very much). Egor was the front-runner for attention for me all day, because he was so over 100% disgusting. The message was clearly: stay THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! Hahaha. He was almost naked, with loose pants that he rolled up into speedo coverage style. I guess he was mad that he didn’t want to be outside but all the kids had to be outside for the afternoon, for reasons of balance. Can’t be on ipad 24.7. To prove he was mad, and to cope with it, he engaged extra hard (imo- “doing the most”) in stims he knew are disgusting to people based on people yelling, “hands!” and “ew, wtf!” and running away from him. Rectal digging, swipes the genital area, rubs his fingers across his face, creating a thin mustache of poo and dirt, because he’s also pacing on cement or in the dirt, and walking a scooter, so there’s a mustache or extra-smile across his entire face that’s brown. He looks in rapture, to be honest, minus the skin stains. Also bruised deeply on the feet, all elbows, sharp spots, he’s thin. FOR 50 OUT OF EVERY 60 SECONDS, HE EMITS LOOOOUUUUD, MIDRANGE VOCALIZATIONS LIKE “UUUUHHH AHHHH OHHHH UMMHH OOOOEEEE,” etc. It almost drowns out all the other kids in the backyard “play” area. All of the young adults are stimming, but Egor is the dirtiest, scariest, and loudest, so I steady observed him, while keeping my peripheral vision open to potential attacks from the other 10 or so psychopaths aka nonverbal autistic orphans in a group home. I call them psychopaths because they are. Maybe sociopath is better. In a few words: the “relationship” you make with them is based upon the creation of a safe-script landscape that acts like a bridge. Don’t trust them with a single atom-level thing, and definitely don’t look to them for affection. They are demon children, and I relate to them.

So Vlad was cooking in the other room, and Igor is sitting happily and much more cleanly (the house mother helped him shower) in the Tv room, everything’s pretty clean (she’s a good house mother, and talkative, which helps me). She makes a frozen pizza with freezer french fries for dinner, but not till after Vlad done cooking food that’ll last him the next 24 hours. He’s responsible. But the whole time he’s cooking, Igor is moaning and emitting mid-range, VERY LOUD vocalizations (not approximating words) while engaging in a whirlwind of bathroom-genital-1 year old sensory development type behaviors.
It’s Igor’s volume that annoys Vlad. For 45 minutes, Igor yelled expletives against Vlad and named all the specific violent things he would do to get him to shut the fuck up, including hang him, nail him down, shoot him in the face, hit him with a 2x4. He called him a faggot, cunt, bitch, nigger, (many times- obviously one of his favorite insults- confused white boy), and the insults were plentiful, descriptive, like he had a talent for making threats. For some reason, maybe the house-mother’s attitude, I didn’t worry about anything. I stretched out on the couch and started reading Benjamin Percy novel, Red Moon, on the pleather couch. I contemplated a hook in the ceiling where a swing used to hang, thinking, wow, if I wanted to be the world’s greatest asshole, I would. And I made that joke to the house mother, who pointed out if anybody did that, it be on camera, we laughed in a way I thought, I like you, I’d be friends with you, girl. You’re brave. You’re strong. You’re about to go to sleep with these 2-3 human reptiles (reptile brain). Later (yesterday?) I thought how much I need people like Vlad, who go on and on with a bit they don’t even know is a bit- thank you for swearing. Thank you for being my little brother, brother. You might do better than I did, because you’re a boy, a guy. The world is terrified of witches. But the house mothers are obvious witches. I hope I can fit in with them. Show them I’m not slow in all ways. I’m fast when something happens. I just have to stay regulated. “I must not fear, fear is the mind-killer.” (Dune) That’s a horribly not comforting mantra. I’ll go with, even if I fear, I’mma go hard as mf and protect my babies. Make a mf sorry he picked the wrong one.