The Real Deal

I was born with a high enough IQ, despite my 22q/Velocardiofacial syndrome.  I’m trying to own my disability here, but to force myself to get to Catholic Charities while nobody makes himself or herself available to talk to me, after I’m not feeling well, and having to take the light rail, shows total disrespect for my time.  Assume that I do write daily, that my time goes into something resembling discipline and productivity.  I’m offended by my region’s organizations that supposedly help disabled people like me find a job.  I say supposedly only because this hasn’t happened for me yet.

I’m not as affected by my 22q, unlike other people.  I’ve been ruled competent enough to work.  I write copy for Textbroker, that is hard for normal people, it could be assumed this is hard for somebody with schizoaffective like me.  I called someone out on his or her shit, as not having respect for my time is assuming a disabled person will put up with your crap.  I’m fed up with my families’ lies about my IQ.  Quit being ignorant about my genetic disability.  Quit depriving me of knowledge about it, as you did throughout high school since I didn’t have a diagnosis of schizoaffective.

I practically diagnosed myself OCD, okay, so why the hell do rumors swirl in Spain about me?  When somebody didn’t disclose my disability to family at all?  If people are having children, they ought to be told about the possibility of 22q.  Both my parents have the deletion I tell you, they just haven’t bothered with genetic testing, much less getting themselves treated for their schizoaffective and OCD.  Throw OCD in there, and not being on medication is a nightmare.  For once, I would like agencies in Santa Clara County to respect me, respect my time, and respect that I’m not as affected by my disability as other people.

A friend of mine about NAMI has already warned me; when someone warns you about a person, organization, or something else, listen to it.  They mean it; they go out of their way to warn you, so there.  I’m writing my anti-dating book because I’m writing down my experiences with dating, my horrific dating experiences, and why I’m not interested.  I’m at least releasing my standards out there so that the “interested” parties know about it.  If you can’t hang with my standards that I’m going to bother to start having, then you can’t hang with me.  If you believe my parents lies, then you can’t hang with the family brainwashing tactics you will have to learn to resist although I desire no contact with family. I’m working on limited contact, since they do not change their behavior towards me.  I don’t drink, at all, deal with that, and I don’t touch caffeine either, I need to take my medication when I go out, which is also something you have to deal with, and never for goodness sake, put me in a position when I can’t.