freedom

Page Eighteen, website outline

Living in a country that touts and flouts how free we are. But there are all kinds of freedoms, and there’s one extremely important one I have never, in fifty-seven years, been granted by my fellow humans: the freedom to be myself without constant punishment for being that self. Punishment takes many forms, from verbal insult all the way up to various forms of attack. Just for being me I’ve had an on-going stream of this stuff. Others have too. Especially others with Asperger’s.

Harping, like the chanting of Shakespeare’s three witches, all my life, on many themes that are apparently unbearable aspects of Anne Nakis’ selfhood:  too many animals  —  you don’t smile enough — you’re too negative — you’re not really an  atheist; everyone believes in god — you’re antisocial (by this they mean withdrawn, not sociopathic) — you don’t try to fit in…  and more. Almost everything about me, about who I am, is apparently either so annoying or so repugnant or so aberrant that anyone who wishes to throws in their two cents’ worth, and believes they have the right to do so. They have the right to mock, nag, criticize, punish. But I don’t have the freedom to be myself and be left alone about it. If you don’t like me, if I’m not your cup of tea, then just leave me the hell alone. Why do you have to hurt in some way?

All of this has taught me that it’s money in this country that buys you freedom to be yourself. I hate for that to be true, because I hate people making a god out of money. But the fact remains that if I’d been able to earn the money to buy my own home, no landlord and no other tenant could have bullied me the way they have repeatedly done for being myself, for being the oddball, weird, idiosynratic, creature that I am. No relatives and friends could have had much chance to do so, because I wouldn’t have needed them for any kind of practical help. I could have hung up the phone or slammed the door.                                    

To my mind, it is an ugly commentary on human nature to have to say in all truth that I have been alive for more than five decades, and have been allowed by only one person in one relationship, the freedom to be myself — without punishment or criticism. Everyone has nagged, or criticized, or insulted, or tried to remake me. And there have been many who have actively and viciously attacked me when I failed to allow myself to be remade in their image. I honestly don’t grasp, in light of all this, why there are so many people who do not understand why I don’t like human beings. Why do they think I would like humans, in light of this shabby (at best) treatment I’ve received from them? What grounds do you think I would have to be enamored of humankind?

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read…      Neverending solitaire  (asperger’s)…   Lifelines

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all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2010-2012 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.