Nyasha’s poem

I am autistic

It’s almost like autism equals mental health problems

I resent that

My mental health problems are probably caused by living in a world that refuse to adjust to my needs

I need them to start understanding

I’m OK with people not understanding everything

I resent people presenting as if they know everything and then treating me in a way that doesn’t acknowledge my needs

 

I’ve got this dual position where I’m a clinician

I discovered it gets people to sit up and listen

I wonder if I didn’t have that

I’m very certain that I would be in the even more disempowered position

I’d be on medication for stuff I don’t need

 

I have had some really good experiences

I felt heard

I had very clear instructions

I had phone calls to remind me

I knew where to go

I knew what was going to happen

 

I persecute myself a lot, for failing to manage in a neurotypical world

I went around my whole life as a failed neurotypical

I’m a human being needing help

I’m asking for the minimum

 

I’m a black woman

I’m not being given some grace

That implies that health services are not kind

I would say maybe they’re not

 

I’m judged more by the colour of my skin than my autism

My autism is an unseen disability

When I’m accessing healthcare, people are more likely to think I’m being aggressive and rude because I’m a black woman

I’m autistic

I’m being direct

I am being direct in my language, rather than being rude