Be Neurotypical or Die!


I came across a “solution” for autism: Miracle Mineral Solution, or MMS. I won’t give you the gory details, but the mere gist: pumping what is now known as industrial-strength bleach up a rectum or down the throat as “treatment” for autism. I have never heard of such quackery in my life. This brings me to a different question, besides the obvious ones: What is the message you are sending to your children? Be neurotypical or die? Chances are, the children who have autism but are acting neurotypical are doing so in order to be accepted by their parents or peers, especially in cases of these bleach enemas. They are getting the message loud and clear: We do not want you to be yourself. Far be it from me to give parents advice, but if you are clearly torturing your child with bleach enemas, they might have grounds to rebel and emancipate themselves just to get away from you as they get older. I am of course taking I to the extreme, but harmful treatments which clearly amount to torture are giving your child the message that he is not accepted. It reminds me of my father, but not in a good way. My father never accepted my autism, right up until he died. (I do not know if he accepts it now, in death, but I hope so.) I never felt truly loved and accepted because of this. Even now, it is hard for me to feel the true love and acceptance  from my mother for these reasons. There is so much pain I feel for these children undergoing these MMS treatments, chelation and going unvaccinated due to this that I wonder if any parent truly, unconditionally loves their child? These are sad and terrible things to say, but I will have a meltdown if I do not get these hurt feelings out. The message is loud and clear: DO NOT BE AUTISTIC. BE NEUROTYPICAL OR DIE!


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Autistic woman in her 40s, bringing attention to issues that affect her and her kind.

One thought on “Be Neurotypical or Die!”

  1. OMG, my parents forced me to go to friends. I went over to a classmates’ house and knocked on the door, and she had no idea why I was there. I didn’t have friends. I didnt know what to say or do. It was a very bad experience for me.
    Once when I was maybe eight or seven, my mother took me with her to the grocery store, and two of my classmate whom I barely knew appeared. They were deep in a heated conversation judging from their hands movements, and obviously wouldn’t want to be disturbed. My mother, who was desperate for me to make friends and be like everyone else, screamed hysterically at me to run after ‘my friends.’ She pushed me, literarly. I ran after them, but deliberately slowly and missed them. My mother groaned with frustration. She likes to exaggerate things and be a drama queen, which has always gotten on my nerves.
    I wouldnt say I really have bad parents. They do love me and took good care of me, and their love really is unselfish. Dont know about unconditional love, though.
    I believe it’s very damaging to an autistic child when a parent doesn’t accept him the way he is.

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