#AutisticAF Out Loud

👉A live reading from the Amazon book, “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head.”

What You’re About To Watch

A quick, sharp destruction of the “autism as superpower” narrative that’s everywhere in neurodivergent spaces. No superpowers. No kryptonite. Just the messy, explosive, delightful reality of being autistic without the costume drama.

These 60, live seconds cut through the inspiration porn... and all that other ‘you’re so brave’ bullshit. Saying exactly what needs said:

We’re the heroes and villains of our own lives without needing to fly. Or… entertain you.

Plain-spoken truth from someone who’s lived autistic 72 years. Just long enough to have no patience for platitudes.

💬 Let’s Talk About It

* Tired of the same superpower false role model that I am? Comments are where we build real community.

* Tell me: What autism myth are you done performing? What would you rather people understand instead?

* Comments are the biggest way you help neurodivergent voices beat the algorithm and find each other.

📌 Pinned comment prompt: “Which autism myth are you most done performing?”

This Is For You If:

* You’re autistic and exhausted trying to live up to “superpower” framing

* You’re sick of inspiration porn that makes your neurodivergence easier to take… for others

* You want honest talk about autism that doesn’t infantilize or glorify

* You’re done with ableist narratives dressed up as positivity

* You’re looking for autistic elders speaking unmasked truth

* You work with autistic people and want to understand what we actually experience

* You’re navigating late diagnosis and sorting through what’s real vs. what’s marketing

* You love sharp, literary spoken word that doesn’t waste your time

🔗 Subscribe & Connect

Subscribe to this channel for more unmasking without apology—spoken word, essays, and real talk about the neurodivergent experience.

Free resources:👉 Subscribe to my Substack (free or paid) and get a PDF of the entire “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head” collection

Support this work:👉 Available as Amazon ebook or softcoverExclusive hardcover edition and Audible book coming soon.

What This Explores

Why ‘superpower’ language makes us invisible. Turning us into symbols... stealing our personhood. Just leaving two choices: inspiration or tragedy. For others.

Reclaiming ordinariness as radical act—we don’t need to be exceptional to deserve basic respect and understanding

The delight in being ourselves without performing neurotypical expectations or living up to superhero mythology

Agency over our own narratives where we get to be messy, complicated humans rather than simplified symbols

#ActuallyAutistic #AutisticAdult #Neurodivergent #AutismAwareness #AutismAcceptance #DisabilityJustice #Unmasking #AutisticVoices #InspirationPorn #AutisticCommunity #NeurodivergentLife #AutismMyths #SpokenWord #AutisticElders #ActuallyAutisticAdults

📖 FULL TRANSCRIPT

[Transcript appears here on Substack. For YouTube, replace this section with:]

Read the complete transcript on Substack: [link to post]

After the Secret

The whole fucking superpower thing. So, let’s start with a quick blow up of the whole fucking superpower thing.

I call this “After the Secret.”

I have strengths.Not one is my superpower.I have challenges.Not one is my kryptonite.

I’m that kid in third gradeDrop drop droppingA mysterious blue crystalInto that test tube—Squealing in delightEvery time it explodes…In purple streams.

I love cosplay.But I don’t have to flyWear a maskOr sport a capeTo be autistic.

Still…

I get to be the heroor bald evil geniusof my own life.

Outro

This free podcast is supported by listeners like you. Please like and share. It’s the biggest thing you can do to help all neurodivergent voices beat the algorithm.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

Intro

But I ain't going to lie, this next one's rough and long and complex. Plain spoken in its own way, but complex.

It may not need a TS Elliott-pretentious kind of footnote, but I try to intertwine family, control, and religion and very real events from my winter of '97-'98.

And just for you youngsters... if there are some... I'll remind you that was when the Hale-Bopp comet was fading in northern New York skies and the memory of the Heaven's Gate suicide cult was still fresh in the national mind. 

This is a hybrid piece. In my mind, it's a movie with scenes, background music, jump cuts. But, uh, you guys probably loved Pulp Fiction. Given 

that, I pray you can follow me in this one. 

Sneaking my mother's creepy g-d on high

Prelude, December 1997. 

ESTABLISHING SHOT

I begin, “There…There's Heaven's Gate.”She fiddles with the binox dials.

“Where should I look?”She asks breathless,Trudging bootless.I barely hear herOver the crackling snowBeneath my feet, but say,

“There…That smudge in the sky.”I point again.

UFO Cult Chooses Suicide,The TV said.Thirty-nine bodiesIn matching Nikes,The photo read.No Kool-Aid on crime scene,The coroner led off…

I close wet eyesTo the hiss & sizzleOf the Northern LightsOver my head,

Silence

Then the cold murmurof the cold mother...“That's why they died?”She shrugs.

My eyes open… careful, I shrug,

“Maybe… they saw a signal from aliens.Or maybe God on high.Who knows what grimdark signThey read that silent night…”

Wordless, clueless… a comet sailedRibbons of green and purple light.One cold blue, one hot pink tailFading from history’s sight…

So we stroll on intoFake New Year’s dinnerCuz not everyoneCould schedule inThe Real One.

How rare it isA two-tailed comet in the sky,A lover doesn’t lie with her eyes,To greet one free man before you die,How rare it isHow rare it is

Dinner Music

POINT-OF-VIEW SHOT

my mother in a halo of candlesmy mother wrapped in smokemy mother in dark shadowsmeasuring the length of my rope

She gathers reports from her childrenThis year’s fugue & pedal point,Her table a feast of sand.

Youngest Mark files his,A new open source project…“I’m really getting seen.”Lifting my glass to himFrom the dark walnut table,I sip vodka… Neat.

Martha next, from her foreign outpost

A well-received talk given…

Vodka. Neat.

Second-oldest Luke comments,Wearing a dead father’s mantle“So proud of this my familyProgress on nearly every front.John, you seem…Well, better… strangely.”Yeah. Vodka. Neat. And deep.

Mary reports a year in faith.Jesus gave her home.Jesus gave her kids.Jesus gave her strength… alone.

I close my eyes in frustrationSee only those twin tailsSailing in that dark…No wine, no waferJust vodka. Neat.

The broken mother nods,Waves a weary hand at each.Then turns to me,Product of her first postpartum,Eldest stranger at her table.She faintly smiles…, “John?”

This last-invited autistDrunk to a numb survivalStarts slow… and slurred,“Ya know…?Never… believed… in heroes.Those guys & their comet?They did.”

I hear hands tense,Casual wear shift & rustle,Eyes crinkle & narrow…Familiar, family sounds.

My runaway trainpicks up steamplunging on and intoa dark tangential tunnel

“A part of me rejects a g-dborn perfect without sin,casually tossing miracleslike candy & coins… sublimefrom a gaudy Mardi Gras floatTo kids playing in the grime…”

I gulp a breath.

Silence

a child, high on a stone altara hand… a knife in mid air…a sacrfice for appearanceslike thirty-nine bodiesin matching Nike pairs…

How fair is itJesus and Jim JonesBoth got emails from Beyond,Love rusts tilIt’s just one more bond,Your soul’s released whenYour last day’s dawned,How fair is itHow fair is it

Interlude, January 1998

FLASH CUT

Couple weeks laterIce Storm of ‘98.A friendly… family,Game of cards.

Frozen in time, frozen in mindAunts, uncles and cousinsNo one’s got power, trapped…Cabin, cards, liquor… discussions.

Killing time… 3 days…Instead of each other.

Oh shit. Oh. Shit…There goes that bidI swore I could make.Under my breath… “Damn it to Hell.”Then head down, out loud,“Oh, Shit.”

I’m staring at the hand they dealt.So many near-miss combosSo many runs that went nowhere…“My bad. I shoulda played that 9My mind’s off wandering againLet me grab that back. This time.”

“No…You gotta drink …Ya gotta drink!This time…Every time!”

Rinse repeatMistake over mistakeVodka neat, vodka neatVodka…

I… wake to… laughter

“Uncle Johnny, you’re the dudeFrom stuck up cuntTo puking your shoes.Man, can you let go… when you want.”

And let go... I did.

A distracted juggler drops his satin ball,A drunken knife thrower ties assassins & assistants to the wall,The smoking fortune teller wheezes, “Doom finds us all,”A Ring Master’s whip echoes through an emptying hall….

Cadenza, for the End of Time

EXTREME WIDE PANNING SHOT

My catechism askedWhy did that g-d make me?And I askWhy did this unbonded mom have me?To both cluck in disappointment?Over commandmentsI was bornUnable to follow…?

To follow a comet into…Desperation Dissolution Suicide And the Peace…Of no need for understanding?Ever again?

There is no heroNo godNo bodhisattvaNo parent…That does not hideThe dazzling ConfusionIn a burning bush

Or explains to meLike I’m a five-year oldWhy that twin-tailed cometStill sails across my mind

How rare it isTo find a godDoesn’t want moreThan he gave,A lover who can stay…Even while I rave,A man who can liveNot caring if he’s saved,How rare it is.How rare it is.

Outro

This free podcast is supported by listeners like you. Please like and share. It's the biggest thing you can do to help all neurodivergent voices beat the algorithm.

Video Summary

A cinematic spoken word piece that cuts through decades of family silence with surgical precision.

Set against the Heaven’s Gate cult tragedy and Hale-Bopp comet of 1997-98, this hybrid performance follows three wintry family gatherings where religious expectations collide with neurodivergent reality.

Watch what happens when an autistic adult finally stops performing “normal” at the dinner table - and pays the price.

This isn’t therapy. Not self-help. No “cautionary tale.” It’s a multi-layered examination of what we neurodivergents sacrifice. Trying to “belong” in families that were never built for hearts like ours.

Unflinching. Complex. Necessary.

Content Note: Strong language, family trauma, religious themes, substance use, mental health struggles, cult references

Key Themes Explored:

* Power dynamics at family tables where neurodivergent minds are judged as broken

* Spiritual coercion and religious weaponizing against those who think differently

* The breaking point when pretending to be neurotypical becomes impossible

* Self-medication as shield against overwhelming social demands

* Searching for meaning in systems designed to erase your kind of mind

* Memory as witness to the violence of forced conformity

Who This Resonates With:

* Autistic adults who recognize the battlefield of family holidays

* Anyone who’s been the truth-teller in a family that prefers lies

* People untangling religious conditioning from neurodivergent shame

* Those hungry for real conversation about mental health… that skips the tacked-on happy endings

* Readers drawn to generational trauma explored through disability lens

* Anyone who knows that sometimes survival looks like betrayal

* Anyone working with neurodivergent minds. Who wants to really understand what we’re carrying

Discussion Starters:

* How do family gatherings change when you stop performing neurotypical?

* What price have you paid for speaking uncomfortable truths?

* Do you recognize the intersection of religious pressure and neurodivergent shame?

* How do you survive spaces where your honesty threatens everyone’s comfort?

Connect:

* Drop your own family table survival tactics below

* Subscribe for more unmasking without apology

Free Resources & Purchase Links

👉 Subscribe... free or paid... to Substack, get a free PDF of the entire “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head” collection.

👉Support my work→ Available as Amazon ebook or softcover. Exclusive hardcover edition and Audible book coming soon.

This free p…

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

Content Note: Sexual abuse, family trauma, therapy processing, strong language, intense emotional content

Video Summary

This live piece cuts to the bone of what trauma recovery actually looks like. When your brain works differently. And your body never forgets.

What happens when you finally see yourself clearly in a therapist's mirror?When rage becomes the only honest response to betrayal? When family protection fails and the body becomes your only witness?

Studies report as many as 75% of all adult autistics have experienced trauma. And specifically sexual trauma? From 60 to 75% across a lifetime.

No therapeutic jargon. No sanitized healing narratives. Just the raw truth that most trauma content won't touch. In plain, direct language that doesn't hide behind disease-based, diagnostic terms.

Free Resources & Purchase Links

👉 Subscribe free to AutisticAF Substack and get a free PDF of the entire "every clock is a handgun pointed at my head" collection.

👉 Support this work → Available on Amazon as ebook or softcover. "every clock is a handgun pointed at my head" - Exclusive hardcover edition coming soon.

Key Themes Explored:

* Childhood sexual abuse and the body's persistent memory

* Family dysfunction and protective failure

* Therapy processing and breakthrough moments of clarity

* Autistic self-recognition during trauma recovery

* Rage as a healing response to violation and betrayal

* The witness within - how the body always remembers

Who This Speaks To:

* Trauma survivors seeking authentic voices about recovery

* Adult autistics processing childhood experiences

* Family members trying to understand complex trauma dynamics

* Therapists and counselors working with neurodivergent trauma survivors

* Anyone who knows that healing isn't linear or pretty

Discussion Starters:

* How does neurodivergence affect trauma processing and memory?

* What does authentic trauma recovery look like beyond inspiration narratives?

* How do family systems enable or prevent healing from abuse?

* When does rage become a necessary part of recovery?

Connect:

Share your thoughts on trauma, healing, and truth-telling below. Hit subscribe for more unfiltered autistic perspectives.

Full Transcript

A son no more. Yet the body abides.

This one's a little rough for me. Maybe for you. Trauma. Well, it's it's a fucking bitch, too.

The Body Abides

"Like I told you

Nothing really happened

Can't sleep is all..."

He repeats his view,

"The body watches.

The body ALWAYS

Fucking watches."

"Yeah, he kissed me

Fathers do that.

Yeah, it was weird but..."

He whispers me,

"Your body, your witness.

And this witness ALWAYS

Fucking watches."

Then he leans in…

"What if he'd kissed

your sister's lips...?"

"I'd fucking kill him."

That's when...

i see me

in his mirror

watching myself

watch my self

transparently autistic

a son no more,

yet the body...

abides.

images, never shared

images… never dared

hard, wet, frantic

fumbling… bare

rage

dark rage

Screaming RAGE

i'd fucking kill him

fucking kill him

kill him

him.

i rise...

so

slowly

and fucking smash that mirror

i rock, i sway…

i rub one red eye.

i stand, I stare…

I sigh, I say,

"My body watches

The body ALWAYS

Fucking watches…"

into a mirror staring nowhere

As I close his office door...

I abide.

#AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter is a reader-supported publication. Click below to receive new posts and the free PDF of “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head.” To support my work, please consider choosing a paid subscription.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

👉 Subscribe… free or paid… to Substack, get a free PDF of the entire "every clock is a handgun pointed at my head" collection.👉 Support my work → Available as Amazon ebook or softcover. Exclusive hardcover edition coming soon.

Content Note: Strong language, neurodivergent struggles, communication barriers

Video Summary

A raw piece that captures what it feels like to be autistic and ADHD at 71—trying to communicate through the static and distortion of a damaged system.

Plain, direct language. No hidden meanings to decode. Just the real experience of feeling like "a brilliant creative soul trapped in a damaged body and neurology."

Using the metaphor of a short-circuiting transistor radio, this piece asks the question every neurodivergent person knows: "Do you understand at all what I mean?"

Content Note: Strong language, neurodivergent struggles, communication barriers

Key Themes Explored:

* Communication barriers that autistic and ADHD people face daily

* The transistor radio metaphor for neurodivergent expression through "static and distortion"

* Feeling trapped between brilliant inner life and damaged external systems

* Seeking understanding from other neurodivergent people

* AuDHD experience (autism + ADHD) at 71 years old

* The struggle to "just be heard" through intermittent short-circuits

Who This Speaks To:

* Adults with autism, ADHD, or both (AuDHD)

* Anyone who feels misunderstood or struggles to communicate their inner experience

* People seeking authentic neurodivergent voices without academic filtering

* Those who relate to feeling like their "wiring" interferes with expression

* Readers interested in metaphor-based understanding of neurodivergent experience

Discussion Starters:

* Do you relate to the transistor radio metaphor for neurodivergent communication?

* How does it feel when your internal experience doesn't match what others see?

* What metaphors help you explain your neurodivergent experience to others?

* Have you found your "tribe" of people who understand without explanation?

Full Transcript

Well, I feel closer to the spoken word tradition than poetry. I I just ain't that fancy. This first one, I thought I'd start with uh a metaphor, something that autistics see right away, and I think it will help uh this autist.

So, this is

Dancing Close to the Edge of the Noise

# asking AUDHDists.

Bear with me a minute. I'm autistic plus ADHD.

I feel like a a brilliant creative soul as if trapped in a damaged body and neurology.

um trying to communicate with the world through an intermittently short-circuiting transistor radio playing through static and the distortion and sparking circuits to just be heard.

Do you understand at all what I mean?

# actually autistic# ADHD# really AUDHD.

This free podcast is supported by listeners like you. Please like and share. It's the biggest thing you can do to help all neurodivergent voices beat the algorithm.

Connect:

* Share your own "transistor radio" moments below

* Tag an AuDHDist who gets it

* Hit the bell for new releases in this 5-week spoken word series

#AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter is a reader-supported publication. Click… free to receive new posts and "every clock" PDF. To support my work, consider choosing a paid subscription.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

Free Resources & Purchase Links

👉 Subscribe… free or paid… to Substack, geta free PDF of the entire "every clock is a handgun pointed at my head" collection.

👉 Support my work → Available as Amazon ebook or softcover. Exclusive hardcover edition coming soon.

Content Note: Strong language, mental health struggles, time anxiety

Video Summary

A live piece that cracks open what it really feels like to be autistic in this world.

No sanitized inspiration porn. No academic bullshit. Just the real lived experience. In plain, simple language. With no hidden meanings to decode.

About the time anxiety. The grief. The moments of transcendent peace we may find… alone… in the flow.

Content Note: Strong language, mental health struggles, time anxiety

Key Themes Explored:

* Time anxiety and deadline pressure that many autistic adults face

* Sensory overwhelm from constant notifications and time pressures

* Nature as sanctuary and healing space for neurodivergent minds

* Authentic autistic experience without sugar-coating or toxic positivity

* Mental health struggles with honesty and vulnerability

Who This Speaks To:

* Adults discovering or living with autism

* Anyone struggling with time anxiety and deadline pressure

* People seeking authentic mental health poetry

* Those who find peace in nature and solitude

* Readers interested in neurodivergent perspectives on daily life

Discussion Starters:

* How does time pressure affect your daily autistic experience?

* What spaces or practices help you find relief from overwhelming expectations?

* Do you relate to the contrast between societal time demands and natural rhythms?

Full Transcript

So now, uh, we maybe know each other a little better. Let's cut deeper.

My time, it can't be measured. Not a dimension. It's a force.

A violent force.

every clock is a handgun pointed at my head

III

Every clock is a handgun pointed at my headEvery tick, tick… fucking tickTolling Fear, Doom… dreadClick. Slide. Cock… click.

Every night a mantra echoes through my headTV static… a crazy-making humSinging Dream, Drempt… dead…Not done. Not done. Not done… undone.

10, 9, 8… Dread7, 6, 5… Fear4, 3, 2… BEEP.Shoot the moon… or the country next doorCountdown. Deadline. Bow down… dead.

Bound behind doors, bound in my headPace, paces, pacing… pacedEvery BEEP.Of the phone.Stops…my heart....I crash out with a scream for escape

II

Woods

Deep woods

Deepest woods

My ears flyfrom bird songto bird song.

A raptor circles then spiralsCrossing lines now dead

Wind steals my breathTaking words never said

This skin bag of atmosphereBreathes new air

When the sun risesFirst it is coolThen it gets warmThe day passes

Clouds above my head.Shaped by wind

Outside my bodyThe same wind

Inside my bodyThesameWind

Yet…

I

10, 9, 8… Dread7, 6, 5… Fear4, 3, 2… BEEP.Shoot the moon… or the country next doorCountdown. Deadline. Bow down… dead.

Every clock is a handgun pointed at my head

zero

Connect:

* Share your time anxiety experiences below

* Hit the bell for new releases

#AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter is a reader-supported publication. Click… free To receive new posts and “every clock” PDF. To support my work, consider becoming a paid subscription.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

Someone wrote me: "These knocked me sideways... I spent so much time as an undiagnosed autistic girl, wondering if I was the alien dropped among the normies."

This is "A Swirl of Flesh-Colored Fog." Living truth. Autistic style.

👉 VIDEO: A Swirl of Flesh-Colored Fog - 6:01

I can't see faces. When I try to remember someone - even my wife - I see what I call "a swirl of flesh-colored fog."

This piece is about wanting to be friends. About struggling with that simple human desire… when your brain doesn't work the way the world expects.

No clinical terms. No hidden meanings. Just what it's like to be me. And maybe, if you're autistic, a little about what it's like to be you.

This is piece one of thirteen exploring autism, family, and finding authenticity. Not here to inspire you - here to give you an experience of a life.

Watch if you want. Share if it moves you.

Stay weird.

—Johnny

P.S. If this resonates, my full chapbook "every clock is a handgun pointed at my head" is available on Amazon. More living truth, autistic style.

#AutisticAF Out Loud Newsletter is a reader-supported publication. Click to receive new posts… free. To support my work, consider choosing a paid subscription. All subscribers automatically receive a free PDF of the Amazon book, “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head.”

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

Thanks to everyone who tuned in! Free or paid subscribers? Join me for my next live video in the app. Gonna be a Trigger Warnings kinda take on old men with their fingers on THE Button. This week…

Here’s my speaking script from this live performance. Close to a transcript, but I changed a few lines on the fly… some even on purpose.

Today I’m talking family, friends, love… not known as autistic “superpowers.” So let’s start with a quick blow up of the whole fucking superpower thing.

1. After the Secret

I have strengths.

Not one is my superpower.

I have challenges.

Not one is my kryptonite.

I'm that kid in third grade

Drop

drop

dropping

A mysterious blue crystal

Into that test tube—

Squealing in delight

Every time it explodes…

In purple streams.

I love cosplay.

But I don’t have to fly

Wear a mask

Or sport a cape

To be autistic.

Still…

I get to be the hero

or bald evil genius

of my own life.

2. Shameless

Family is freaking complex. For me? More disappointment, failure to meet expectations. Not being the son… or brother… the family ordered.

Live long enough

Ya get a lot right,

Get a lot wrong.

Get to know

Well enough

Ya can’t be a saint

Lurking in shadow…

Living life perfectly

Shameless.

Shameless.

Oh let me be

Shameless…

No sun sets

On a painless life,

So no moon shines

On a stainless wife.

Oh let me be… come

Shameless.

Scaling Mount Marcy

That night as Elvis died,

Got branded a Mountebank

As my sister grew colder.

Stalking Death Valley

Same sister… now dead… to me

Same stars… chill my shoulders

Now living life perfectly

Shameless…

Shameless.

Oh let me be

Shameless…

No peak caps

An aimless life,

And no grave ever filled

By a blameless knife.

Oh let me be… come

Shameless…

No mask hides

The pain in life,

So no words can

Explain my fight.

So, let me Be… come

Shameless.

I call this one it burns. I didn’t write it about autism. But families face terrible trials. This was my response to one.

3. IT BURNS

Up your nose

Or in your arm

It burns

First your charm

Then your pose

It burns

No one learns

The next child will yearn

Til It burns

Still burns

Oh it burns

It burns you up

In the mirror

That dark stranger

Stares back at you

Wild-eyed danger

But you don't fear her

It's you

Right on cue

She's seen things you'd never do

But it's you

Cuz Baby, it's you

It's you now

What won't you do

Bridges burnt

Towns ashes.

Poppa burnt

Mom ashes.

Beauty

Ashes.

Duty

Ashes.

Home

Ashes.

Dreams

Smoke…

Lovers turn to johns

Burnt.

Babies

Burnt.

Womb

Burnt.

Brain

Burnt.

Eyes

Burnt out…

Up your nose

Or in your arm

It burnt

First your charm

Then your pose

It burnt

No one learned

Your next child yearned

Til It burnt

Still burnt

Oh it burnt

It burnt you up

Ate you up

No one home

Just burnt bones....

Okay. Hello… family? Friends? I wasn’t born to produce. I was born to observe, experience… then overshare.

4. A Shooting Star Has No Purpose

my autistic life...

failing upward

toward collapse...?

succeeding downward

toward joy...?

it's a quantum thing.

the answer is simply...

yes.

I was not put on this planet

to produce.

I was born to experience.

Observe...

and over share.

our lives' value is

not measured

by clicks.

or data mined by AI.

a shooting star

slashing through darkness

has no purpose.

unless

it ignites

a human instant.

illuminates, ya know…

that ness…

this breath

and this moment…

all we possess.

All.

I ain’t gonna lie. This one’s rough. And long. And complex. It may not need a T.S. Eliot pretentious footnote. But I try to intertwine family, control, and religion. And real events from the winter of 97-98. When the Hale-Bopp comet was fading in the Northern New York skies. And the memory of the Heaven’s Gate suicide cult was still fresh in the national mind.This is a hybrid piece. In my mind it’s a movie. With scenes, background music. Jump cuts. But you guys probably loved Pulp Fiction. So I pray you can follow me.

5. sneaking your mother’s creepy g-d on high

Prelude, December 1997

I begin, “There…

There's Heaven's Gate.”

She fiddles with the binox dials.

“Where should I look?”

She asks breathless,

Trudging bootless.

I barely hear her

Over the crackling snow

Beneath my feet, but say,

“There…

That smudge in the sky.”

I point again.

UFO Cult

Chooses Suicide,

The TV said.

Thirty-nine bodies

In matching Nikes,

The photo read…

I close wet eyes

To the hiss & sizzle

Of the Northern Lights

Over my head,

Silence

Then the cold murmur

of the cold mother...

“That's why they died?”

She shrugs.

My eyes open… careful, I shrug,

“Maybe… they saw a signal from aliens.

Or maybe God on high.

Who knows what grimdark sign

They read that silent night…”

Wordless, clueless… a comet sailed

Ribbons of green and purple light.

One cold blue, one hot pink tail

Fading from history’s sight…

So we stroll on into

Fake New Year’s dinner

Cuz not everyone

Could schedule in

The Real One.

How rare it is

A two-tailed comet in the sky,

A lover doesn’t lie with her eyes,

To greet one free man before you die,

How rare it is

How rare it is

Dinner Music

my mother in a halo of candles

my mother wrapped in smoke

my mother in dark shadows

measuring the length of my rope

She gathers reports from her children

This year’s fugue & pedal point,

Her table a feast of sand.

Youngest Mark files his,

A new open source project…

“I’m really getting seen.”

Lifting my glass to him

From the dark walnut table,

I sip vodka… Neat.

Martha next, from her foreign outpost

A well-received talk given…

Vodka. Neat.

Second-oldest Luke comments,

Wearing a dead father’s mantle

“So proud of this my family

Progress on nearly every front.

John, you seem…

Well, better… strangely.”

Yeah. Vodka. Neat. And deep.

Mary reports a year in faith.

Jesus gave her home.

Jesus gave her kids.

Jesus gave her strength… alone.

I close my eyes in frustration

See only those twin tails

Sailing in that dark…

No wine, no wafer

Just vodka. Neat.

The broken mother nods,

Waves a weary hand at each.

Then turns to me,

Product of her first postpartum,

Eldest stranger at her table.

She faintly smiles…, “John?”

This last-invited autist

Drunk to a numb survival

Starts slow… and slurred,

“Ya know…?

Never… believed… in heroes.

Those guys & their comet?

They did.”

I hear hands tense,

Casual wear shift & rustle,

Eyes crinkle & narrow…

Familiar, family sounds.

My runaway train

picks up steam

plunging on and into

a dark tangential tunnel

“A part of me rejects a g-d

born perfect without sin,

casually tossing miracles

like candy & coins… sublime

from a gaudy Mardi Gras float

To kids playing in the grime…”

I gulp a breath.

Silence

a child, high on a stone altar

a hand… a knife in mid air…

a sacrfice for appearances

like thirty-nine bodies

in matching Nike pairs…

How fair is it

Jesus and Jim Jones

Both got emails from Beyond,

Love rusts til

It’s just one more bond,

Your soul’s released when

Your last day’s dawned,

How fair is it

How fair is it

Interlude, January 1998

Flash Cut

Couple weeks later

Ice Storm of ‘98.

A friendly… family

Game of cards.

Frozen in time, frozen in mind

Aunts, uncles and cousins

No one’s got power, trapped…

Cabin, cards, liquor… discussions.

Killing time… 3 days…

Instead of each other.

Oh shit. Oh. Shit…

There goes that bid

I swore I could make.

Under my breath… “Damn it to Hell.”

Then head down, out loud,

“Oh, Shit.”

I’m staring at the hand they dealt.

So many near-miss combos

So many runs that went nowhere…

“My bad. I shoulda played that 9

My mind’s off wandering again

Let me grab that back. This time.”

“No…

You gotta drink …

Ya gotta drink!

This time…

Every time!”

Rinse repeat

Mistake over mistake

Vodka neat, vodka neat

Vodka…

I… wake to… laughter

“Uncle Johnny, you’re the dude

From stuck up cunt

To puking your shoes.

Man, can you let go… when you want.”

And let go... I did.

A distracted juggler drops his satin ball

A drunken knife thrower ties assistants to the wall,

The smoking fortune teller wheezes, “Doom finds us all,

A Ring Master’s whip echoes through an emptying hall….

Cadenza, for the End of Time

My catechism asked

Why did that g-d make me?

And I ask

Why did this unbonded mom have me?

To both cluck in disappointment?

Over commandments

I was born

Unable to follow…?

To follow a comet into…

Desperation

Dissolution

Suicide

And the Peace…

Of no need for understanding?

Ever again?

There is no hero

No god

No bodhisattva

That does not hide

The dazzling Confusion

In a burning bush

Or explains to me

Like I’m a five-year old

Wh…

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

👉 YouTube Video of this live spoken word performance

👉 “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head,” Amazon book & ebook

Cold Open

I feel like a brilliant creative soul

as if…

trapped in a damaged body

& neurology

trying to communicate with the world

through an intermittently short-circuiting transistor radio

playing through static

& the distortion

& sparking circuits…

to just be heard.

Do you understand at all what I mean?

Intro

You're listening to AutisticAF Out Loud. One voice. Raw. Real. Fiercely Neurodivergent. Since 1953.

Season 5, Episode 7 is special. This live spoken word performance comes straight from my first Amazon book, "every clock is a handgun pointed at my head." Raw insight into my autism… and ADHD.

No hidden meanings. Nothing to decode. Just real life. Meant for autistics who need to be seen… And for family, allies, and researchers who want to see us truly. Not through Hollywood's lens of Rain Man and Love on the Spectrum.

Just one 72-year-old autistic elder's truth. I'm Johnny Profane.

Content Note: Frank discussion of trauma, including sexual abuse. Because… frankly… most autistics I've known survived trauma. This material may be triggering.

Subscribers to my Substack receive a free PDF of the entire book. Links to Amazon book and ebook are in the podcast notes.

Btw, tomorrow, Sunday 8/31, I'm doing another live performance for subscribers. 12:45 Eastern, 4:45 UTC.

With that? Let's dive right in.

Live Spoken Word Performance, 8/24/25

1. Dancing Close to the Edge of the Noise

Thought i’d start with a metaphor… something that autistics see…right away. And I think will help.. This autist at least… be seen.

#AskingAuDHDists…bear with me a minute.I'm autistic+ADHD.71.

i feel likea brilliant creative soulas if…

trapped in a damaged body& neurology

trying to communicatewith the world

through an intermittentlyshort-circuiting transistor radio

playing through static

& the distortion& sparking circuits…

to just be heard.

do you understand at all what I mean?

#ActuallyAutistic #ADHD #ReallyAuDHD

2. That Song I'll Never Sing to My Son

So let me build another bridge. Who doesn’t relate to children.

Like some angelWith a dislocated shoulderHalf f l y i n g H a l f fallingYounger to olderFrom the day I was born.

Tumbling to earthRushing up belowBody on f i r eH e a r t aflameIn s l o – m o ,

a horror picture show…

To a silent piano score…

Like that songI’ll never singTo my son.Like that song

Like this song….

Don’t be a dick

Real talk…

It’s harder than you think…

Listen up…

Maybe…

Don’t mask… protecting others

Don’t please yourself

Less than bosses & lovers…

Hold up…

Most of all…

Don’t forget

To have a kid

Like you might

Forget

That call-in contest

You just knew

You could win

Cuz you knew all the words….

Gimme a minute.

I need a minute…

Like some angel

Thrown outta heaven

H a l f falling

Half f l y i n g

From what should’ve been…

The day I was born.

Like that song

On that game show…

That I’ll never sing…

To that son

I never had

Hell,

Like this song.

3. My Friend Billy

One last bridge. Before we maybe jump off the cliff… They say we don’t having emotions. Or make friends. Clue… I ain’t Spock.

65

Going on death,

Woke to a frozen world

Where no car crept

A day no singing bird

Was left alive

A day another friend

Sighed his last breath

Polar vortex

Blew thru my trailer

Wrapped windows in blankets

Stale air hung like failure

Cranked the oven

Cracked its door

Sealed the entries to my life

Like a bunker in war

Settled in for a day alone

Picked up the phone

My only open door…

Wars, rumors of wars

Disasters revealed

Disasters concealed

Across its screen

A dying world's dreams

I read the news,

A politician lies

Local man dies…

Wind froze my heart

Another sun sets

That'll never rise

Another friend

Where I can't hear his cries

Billy…

I wish I were that poet

Say, Yeats sweet voice

Or at least L. Cohen

Raised in bitter rejoice

To toast his life of rough edges

But I see him clear

Tears in his eyes

Laffing

How he outraced cops

Across Arizona deserts

Or burnt a scumbag dealer

Or how his child came to be born

Crying

About a woman he loved

Those kids he missed seeing

Locked in his room

Picking at scabs

Dying

One bottle at a time

He lived for love

He lived for laughs

He left little more

Than a church full of folks

Who missed him for an hour

He was Billy.

And now years later

He won't leave my autistic mind

And still laffs in my autistic heart

Teaching it how to praise.

Ad

Hey… quick favor? Social media algorithms bury voices like ours. But if you hit subscribe, like, or share? A lot more people may get a chance to truly see autism. One click does a lot of good.

4. every clock is a handgun pointed at my head

So now we… maybe… know each other a little better. Let's cut deeper… My time? It can’t be measured. Not a dimension… perhaps yours. It’s a force. A violent force.

III

Every clock is a handgun pointed at my headEvery tick, tick… fucking tickTolling Fear, Doom… dreadClick. Slide. Cock… click.

Every night a mantra echoes through my headTV static… a crazy-making humSinging Dream, Drempt… dead…Not done. Not done. Not done… undone

10, 9, 8… Dread7, 6, 5… Fear4, 3, 2… BEEP.Shoot the moon… or the country next doorCountdown. Deadline. Bow down… dead.

Bound behind doors, bound in my headPace, paces, pacing… pacedEvery BEEP.Of the phone.Stops…my heart....I crash out with a scream for escape

II

Woods

Deep woods

Deepest woods

My ears flyfrom bird songto bird song.

A raptor circles then spiralsCrossing lines now dead

Wind steals my breathTaking words never said

This skin bag of atmosphereBreathes new airWhen the sun risesFirst it is cooThen it gets warmThe day passes

Clouds above my head.Shaped by wind

Outside my bodyThe same wind

Inside my bodyTheSameWindYet…

I

10, 9, 8… Dread7, 6, 5… Fear4, 3, 2… BEEP.Shoot the moon… or the country next doorCountdown. Deadline. Bow down… dead.

Every clock is a handgun pointed at my head

Zero

5. Believe I'll Ch-Ch-Change My Shirt

Someone said an average writer borrows. The other kinds steal out right. Bowie, Robert Johnson, Marvin Gaye? I owe you guys one.

Sunlight cracks my window,

Gotta be midday.

Kick myself a pathway

Just to pee into the bowl.

Like a peek into that deepest hole,

Zombie in the Mirror won’t let me look away —

Same filthy shirt as yesterday,

Body and soul.

I Gotta Change.

They say, “Ya gotta ch-ch-change.

New day’s a-coming.

Cuz that same old,

It’s getting fucking old.”

They say, “Shed that old skin

For one of truest gold…”

I. Gotta. Change.

Believe I’ll ch-ch-change

My…

Shirt.

Karma’s a bitch dog, in heat.

She prowls my old mind,

Sleeps beside me every night…

Feasting on defeats.

No stone blocks this empty tomb

But I can’t leave her behind...

Memories of the darkest kind

Blind my way outta this room...

T H A T change I can not make—

Faced all the strange this heart can take…

I gotta change…

I gotta change…

I gotta change…

I. Gotta. Change.

Believe I’ll ch-ch-change

My…

Shirt.

*Break it down…*

*I believe, I believe, I’ll go back home.*

*I believe, I believe, I’ll go back home.*

*You can mistreat me here, babe,*

*But you can’t when I get home…*

*Waitress smiles,*

*checkout jokes…*

*shoplifting contact*

*with little hope*

*casual chic in the cubicle*

*hoarding freak in the domicile*

*Molestation devastation*

*Frustration infestation*

*losing jobs*

*taking jabs*

*Meltdown, shutdown… losing your shit*

*Choose the label for your best fit*

*Can’t see the forest*

*For the leaves,*

*That’s what’s brought me*

*To my knees…*

New day’s never coming.

And that same old,

Got fucking older.

I yearn to shed that old skin

I crave that shiny gold…

I. Gotta. Change.

Believe I’ll ch-ch-change

My…

Shirt.

6. The Body Abides

This one’s rough. For me. Maybe for you. Trauma’s… well, a bitch.

"Like I told you

Nothing really happened

Can't sleep is all..."

He repeats his view,

"The body watches.

The body ALWAYS

Fucking watches."

"Yeah, he kissed me

Fathers do that.

Yeah, it was weird but..."

He whispers me,

"Your body, your witness.

And *this* witness ALWAYS

Fucking watches."

Then he leans in…

"What if he'd kissed

your *sister's* lips...?"

"I'd fucking kill him."

*That's when...*

i see me

in his mirror

watching myself

watch my self

transparently autistic

a son no more,

yet the body...

abides.

images…

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

Cold Open

I just heard the duly-elected President of these United States... Donald J. Trump... brag about dropping the atom bomb. On Hiroshima.

My god.

Steven Colbert? Jon Stewart...?

Once, these guys were subversive... were daring. But...

But with troops still in the California streets and missiles in Mid-Eastern air...

Haven't comedians become nauseatingly... tone dead?

When the Comedy stops being funny…

We're in deep shit. Especially anybody different. Like, say… autistics..

[music theme]

Intro

You’re listening to Trigger Warnings, episode 2 … a new project of AutisticAF Out Loud podcast.I'm Johnny Profane. Your fiercely divergent guide to what's actually happening in the news.Gimme 10 minutes? I'll give you my neurodivergent world.

Today: “Not Everything's Funny: Colbert, Trump .. & Hiroshima.” Military deployments in two cities, Constitutional challenges mounting, and one burning question: Are we witnessing democratic norms under assault in real time? And trying to just laugh it off?

For an ever deeper dive, I’ve included footnotes and readings in the subStack.

Content Note: civil unrest, military deployment, law enforcement actions, concerns about democratic institutions + experiences & opinions of one autistic voice... in my 70s.

[music theme]

Show

Act 1: The Unprecedented Break

I just heard the duly-elected President of these United States... Donald J. Trump... brag about dropping the atom bomb. On Hiroshima.[1]

At a NATO summit.

In front of the world.

My god.

Let me tell you what just happened. Because the News? They aren't "reporting" just how fucked up this really is.

[music freedom, 8 bars]

No President Has Ever Done This

Since the guy who dropped those bombs in 1945…Harry Truman…stopped defending his decision…cuz he stopped being president in 1952.No American president since… has dared… brag about Hiroshima. Or Nagasaki.[2]

Not one.

You know why? Because even the worst of them understood something. Those bombs killed 200,000 people.[3] Mostly civilians. Women. Children. Grandparents.

Even Eisenhower… the guy American history class sayswon World War II… Even he said the bombing "never ceased troubling me." He called it completely unnecessary.[4]

Obama visited Hiroshima in 2016.[5] He didn't apologize. But he didn't brag either.

Reagan talked about nuclear weapons. But he said "a nuclear war can never be won."[6]

Every president since Truman understood this was serious shit. Sacred ground. You don't joke around about vaporizing cities.

Not Trump.

He's bragging. Comparing his conventional strikes to atomic bombs. Like it's a video game.

"We have the best nuclear technology," he said. "The best equipment in the world."

Like… nuclear weapons were toys.

[music]

Trump Just Shattered “Normal”

Yesterday at the NATO summit in The Hague, Trump compared his strikes on Iran to Hiroshima.

His exact words: "I don't want to use an example of Hiroshima. I don't want to use the example of Nagasaki, that was essentially the same thing. That ended that war, this ended this war."[7]

He was bragging. Bragging about nuclear destruction. Like a fucking business deal.

"That hit ended the war," he said. Chest puffed out. Proud as hell.

This is what we've come to. The President casually referencing the incineration of 200,000 humans… as a model for current policy.

At an international summit.

On camera.With full makeup.

[music 8 bars, freedom]

You know social media… if you take a sec to hit subscribe, like, share? A lot more people will check it out. Just one click… and you do a lotta good.

[music, freedom]

The Comedy Problem

How are we supposed to respond? Where's the outrage?

In other words, where are the comedians? Most Gen Z-ers and younger get their news from late night comedy shows.[8]

Colbert will try out a "new" joke tonight. Stewart will do his smirk. They'll treat this like another Trump gaffe they can mine for laughs.[9]

But it's not funny anymore.

Once, these guys were subversive... were daring. But...

Haven’t they become nauseatingly... tone dead?

You can't satirize someone who's already become a parody of human decency. Someone the scriptures of all major religions would label simply… evil?

Bragging about mass murder... what the fuck is left to mock?

Comedy works when there's a shared understanding of normal. When people have shame. When some lines… you just don't cross.

But Trump crossed the biggest. With a smile. Not one objection from a room full of reporters. Just brief sneers from a TV full of comedians.

So, Canary-in-the-coal-mine time….

When the Comedy stops being funny…

We're in deep shit. Especially anyone different. Like, say… autistics…

[music]

Why This Matters

This isn't about politics. Left or right.

This is about what kind of country we are.

For 80 years, American presidents understood that Hiroshima was different. Special. Unspeakable.[10]

They might defend it…quickly, quietly. Say, “It saved lives.” Then quickly, move on.

They understood Power comes with burdens… responsibility, accountability, humanity. That killing 200,000 people isn't something you do a victory spike over.

Trump doesn't understand that weight.

Or worse... he doesn't care.

Ya, know, worse yet? Maybe he does care. About the bullying power that his brutish remarks burn into the world's memory.

[music]

Act 2: When Institutions Fail

With troops still in the California streets, missiles in Mid-Eastern skies… and a Bully-in-Chief in the pulpit…

Comedy… and art… fall silent.

Corporate News? Well it talks… too much. But it just isn’t saying anything. They don’t cover reality anymore. They've been cowed into repeating Administration lies… through shell-shocked faces.

When the President of the United States casually references nuclear genocide... and we fear he might just use them sometime …within the next two weeks…like all of his jokes…that become threats…that become promises kept to his base…

Our cultural tools break down.

We don't have frameworks for this.

We have jokes for corrupt politicians. For liars. For cheaters. That subversive humor can shed a light into Democratic or Republican darkness. Through a shared giggle.

But jokes about dropping nukes?

They’re just distractions. Like… witty comebacks, really killer memes, and the occasional truly thoughtful opinion piece in the New York Times.

[music]

What We're Really Facing

This is what authoritarianism starts like.[11] Not jackboots and death squads.

Just a man who thinks mass murder… is something to celebrate. A man who doesn't understand why some folks might find that disturbing.

The scariest part? He said this at NATO. To our allies.

Heard round the world. By any country that remembers World War II. What nuclear weapons actually do.

Like say, Japan.

[music]

Are the Democrats' the Alternative?

The political opposition? They're not exactly rising to the moment. What the fuck are Democrats doing?[12]

Running the same playbook they've used since Hillary lost.

"We're the adults in the room."

"At least we're not Trump. Vote for us because we're not insane."

"You just wait for the midterms… oh, boy. We really got him now."

We need more than just "At least, we're not that guy."

You need to explain why this is fucking terrifying.

Wait… Forget all that.

Say as little as absolutely necessary.

Just fucking act already.

[music]

Where We Are Now

So here we are. And we're all supposed to pretend this is normal.

It's not normal.

It's not funny.

And it's not sustainable. Maybe not survivable.

[music]

The Truth

Trump just told the world that he thinks nuclear destruction is a deal-making path… worth aspiring to. :Proudly.

That's not politics. That's not even partisanship.

That's a fundamental break with human decency.

And if we can't say that out loud... if we can't admit how fucked up this is...

We're already lost.

[music AutisticAF Out Loud theme]

Outro

This has been Trigger Warnings: Fiercely Divergent News. Reminding you we navigate a world that wasn't built for us Neurodivergents… and it may be time… to build our own.

Another warning sign that, ya know… human decency? All bets are off.

Which doesn’t bode well for anybody who is different.

Next …

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe

Cold Open

You wanna pathologize me? Knock yerself out. Faithfully counting every leaf marked "deficit"…

But missing the whole damn forest we know locally as "Survival."

[Doc? You Got Us All Wrong, Pt 1: Autistic Resilience]

Intro

You're listening to AutisticAF Out Loud. One voice. Raw. Real. Fiercely Neurodivergent. Since 1953.

Season 5, Episode 5. “Doc? You Got Us All Wrong, Pt 1: Autistic Resilience.”

Deficits… or strengths? Survival… or thriving? Pathology… or inborn, natural autistic behavior? We turn the diagnostic telescope around. Let’s focus on the forest of resilience behind every leaf labeled "deficit."

An experimental multi-part series… all around 10 minutes. Because some neurodivergent listeners like to binge in small bites. Or you can download Part 1 and Part 2 at once… for listeners who crave the whole enchilada in one sitting.

Just one autistic elder's truth. I'm Johnny Profane.

Content Note: trauma discussion, medical system critique, institutional discrimination, psychiatric hospitalizations, systemic oppression + experiences & opinions of one autistic voice... in my 70s.

[Music]

What I tell any therapist… any caregiver… first session:

I have survived physical and sexual abuse from family and schoolmates.Bullying by teachers and fellow students… 2nd grade through high school.Multiple professional crashes… in multiple careers.At least a dozen firings.2 evictions.

1 bankruptcy.Dozens of major household moves.Few friends, and…2 divorces, 3 "living togethers," and a couple of "serious" relationships that, well…, weren't?

Ain't this resilience?

Resilience. Ya know, that cap-and-gown term pros use for getting knocked down seven times. Stubbornly getting up… eight...

I'm still alive. Still creating. Still getting published. Still speaking to thousands of autistics a year.

Never attempted suicide... despite three hospitalizations.

AND I'm still autistic. Cuz there ain't no cure for something that ain't wrong. Unless you base your "medical model" on some statistical "normal"… which is just a made up story. Cuz not one living person is summed up by a Bell curve normal… not even within a standard deviation.

Yes, yes… yes. Some professionals are evolving. Pros who listen more than lecture. But face it. In the grand scheme of things… they’re rare.

Let's get clear right now, right here. It's not being autistic that creates our trauma. It's living autistic in a society that inflicts trauma on us. Refusing to accept, adapt… support… us.

Why do "helping" pros focus on my deficits, my lacks, my pitiful performance of “Activities of Daily Living”…? Like, did I shower today…? No.

Rather than the sheer strength of will I demonstrate every time I take my next breath?Why do they offer to fix me,inform me,guide me, andcharge me for sessions,mentoring,workshops,best-selling books,SYSTEMS they've just invented…based on… at best… incomplete research?

[Music]

You know social media… if you like and share this podcast, a lot more people will check it out. You can do a lot of good with just one click.

You wanna pathologize me? Knock yerself out.

Turn my every inborn neurodivergent characteristic into a disease. You do have powerful diagnostic tools…

But you're looking through that diagnostic telescope backwards. Faithfully counting every leaf marked "deficit"… But missing the whole damn forest that we know locally as "Survival."

Like my "failure to maintain eye contact.” A “social deficit.” Right... completely missing how that survival skill lets me process your words… without painful sensory overload. My form of my respect… for you.

Go ahead and use professionally, objectively disempowering terms, like "comorbidity"... betraying your bias that my very way of Being is… in your eyes… a disease. And then riff on, elaborate away: "pathological demand avoidance," "obsessive-compulsive disorder," "borderline personality disorder,"And on and on… and on.

Truth? Every diagnosis? Just another survival mechanism. Not symptoms of autism. Responses to how society treats autism.

Behaviors that kept me alive… in your world. While you obsess over what's "wrong" with me…

Or… we could build on my autistic strengths.

Look, none of us have all of these. And superpowers don’t exist. Some have strengths not listed. But if you aren’t looking for them? Likely, you’re mis-treating us.

* Resilience: Just surviving multiple, severe stressors is a biggie. Every autistic adult you meet has adapted to extreme challenges. Most of us… traumatized. Yet we endure. We integrate. We keep going.

* Deep Feeling: Pros call ‘em "mood swings." We call it feeling everything… deeply. Depth that drives our creativity… in science, art, writing, becoming lunatic billionaires… or the cool neighbor next door.. It's not a flaw. It's fuel.

* Survival Skills: My life, my continued existence… is my proof. Just as any autistic adult's life is. We've survived devastating life events. With inner strength and coping strategies.These aren't skills most professionals understand… not even some neurodivergent practitioners. Because these skills are linked to how our individual autistic minds work. Which is… in fact… different. Not just from most humans. From each other, too.

* Creative Persistence: Every autistic person knows this pull. Our passionate focus on our interests. Grabbing us deeper than hunger. We don't just see details… no matter what TV tells you. We work on wide canvases. We create. We build. We solve. That's strength.

* Living with Extremes: My knee surgeon was shocked. "You walked two miles a day on a torn meniscus?" Yes, but… a light touch on my face can trigger panic. That's not contradiction. That's how we survive. We may get sensory warnings earlier than most… Yet we handle what breaks others. Daily.

* Hidden Adaptability: Look at my life changes—jobs, homes, relationships. Society labels us as "rigid." Truth is, we adapt constantly. We got no choice. Yet we persevere. We keep doing. That's not weakness. That's strength.

* Processing Power: We take in everything. Process it deeply. Yet live through emotional and sensory experiences that would derail most people. We keep going. Keep growing. That's not dysfunction. That's determination. Coming directly from… not despite… our neurodivergent cognition.

* Spectrum of Strength: Maybe resilience is a spectrum, too. And some of us autistics crank it up past 11. Not weakness from disability. Strength from difference. Turning autistic stereotypes upside down. Yet again.

[Music]

Just a quickie… this is Part 1 of “Doc? You Got Autism All Wrong?” Why not binge the next part? Or download the long-form version with both parts? Link in transcript.

Challenging Normal-izing Models

My story? Just one among thousands. Millions.

I've worked as a magazine publisher. Functioned as an academic grad student… multiple times. And been homeless… multiple times. I've been privileged to hear many, many similar stories over the decades. At all levels of society, education, age.

These stories all share one truth: Autistic traits are not inherently deficits. They can be hidden sources of strength and resilience. In the right environment. In the right community.

Take one example: Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA). What pros like to label our natural, neurodivergent response to external demands like deadlines. I meet the diagnostic criteria. Always have. But in my opinion, they bulldoze right over my inborn need for autonomy. Leading too often to trauma. PDA… seems to me… a dehumanizing slur. For the nature I was born with.

Yet many neurodivergents find comfort and support diagnosed as PDA. In the acknowledgment of our differences the diagnosis does offer. I don’t wish to negate their experience. And I’m not arguing neurodivergents do NOT have needs for autonomy. Or that we don't suffer due to these differences. At the hands of Straight Culture.

My point: Sensory and social differences are NOT pathologies.

It's like dogs noticing that cats are more hyper than canines...

So to "help" ‘em, pro dogs decide to forcibly train or torture every cat. To s…

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnnyprofaneknapp.substack.com/subscribe