To Those Who Want a Cure
It's your right to want a cure... just like it's your right to want to win the lottery. But unlike lotteries, there aren't millions of tickets out there; just a few hundred scientists, most of whom are working towards a genetic test and not a cure. Just like me and the many others who wouldn't want a cure for autism if it could be invented, you're living with autism, and you can't change that.
Why is autism so hard to change? Well, it's hard-wired in; both in the genetics and in how your brain works. We would need about the same sort of technology to cure autism as we would need to create designer babies (autism is genetically complex and it is not a matter of changing one gene, but multiple ones and different ones) and to change, damage-free, the human brain into any configuration of cognition and personality (to change the already-present neurological wiring). Anything less is not a complete cure.
(I must be sure not to confuse "cure" with "improvement", as the first is impossible and the second almost inevitable. Autistic people learn, as any human does; and learning can mean learning to get along in the world--in some cases, usually with mild Asperger's, to the point that you have found viable solutions for all of the drawbacks, and your autism is diagnosable only by history. Physical health can also be improved, which makes life easier for anyone, especially the ultra-sensitive autistic. But none of these things are cures.)
What I'm talking about--a complete cure--is something that won't be possible for decades, certainly... probably a few hundred years, realistically, for the sort of control over the changes made that might actually leave your personality mostly intact.
When people buy lottery tickets, they're essentially buying hope.... the hope that they might one day become rich and get everything they want, rather than living an average life of often menial work. But every dollar they spend on the lottery is a dollar they could have spent on some of the things they want.
The problem I see with wanting a cure is that it seems to obscure everything else--you pin all your hopes on that one thing, and you forget that there's a life to be lived, with autism, and that this life isn't empty or worthless even though it may have its drawbacks. You start to see everything bad in your life as there because of your autism; and everything good that you want as something you could get if only you weren't autistic.
But... there is no cure. There won't be one for a long time--possibly never. People have lived good, happy, fulfilling, purposeful lives with all the problems that autism can bring, and more. And people without any sort of disability at all have had unhappy, empty, miserable lives.
Lottery tickets are all well and good. Maybe it's fun to think of what you might do with a million or more. But if you spend your money on ticket after ticket, hoping, there comes a point at which all that money spent on lottery tickets could have been used to make your life better, as it is, without having to win anything at all. A dollar every day spent on tickets is $365 a year, enough to give somebody a really good Christmas. Save for five years, and you can go on vacation. Some people spend more than a dollar every day. One ticket is OK; a few might be fun; but buy enough, and you're pinning your money on what is probably empty hope when you could spend it to make your life a little better right now.
While parents pin their hopes on cures, their children live lives where medicine and therapy push out childish fun and real learning. While teen and adult autistics hope for cures, they ignore the good parts of life that they can have right now, with or without autism. I could be harsh and say "You are autistic, you will always be autistic; now learn to work with it," but if you think about it, that isn't such a harsh statement at all. Accepting yourself for who you are instead of thinking yourself unacceptable is about the most satisfying feeling in the world; and when you do that, you can learn to work with what you have--even if it isn't a lot; even if you're severely disabled; even if you face a lot of prejudice--and end up with a decent life, autism or no autism.
Maybe, magically, someone might invent a procedure that would turn autistic people into non-autistic people, damage-free, with most of the personality intact; but until then, you've got a life to live; it's not doomed to be an unhappy life; and wishing for a cure won't make anybody invent one sooner. It's the only life you've got; make it count.
Or you could just keep buying lottery tickets, wasting your money... wasting your time... and hoping for the big win...
Wanting or not wanting a cure has much more to do with how you handle your autism than anything else. You could say, "I'll take a cure if one comes along, but for now I'm going to live my life," or you could put your life on hold hoping for a cure that never materializes... Too many autistic people and their parents are choosing that second option, and missing out on life because of it.
I can't force you to say, as I do, that you don't want a cure; but at the very least, realize that right now you can't change the fact that you are autistic, which means that just like me you are living with autism; that it's not impossible to have a good life with autism, as there are many people who have done it (and most of them didn't have any Einstein-like skills); that "disabled" does not mean "worthless"; and that autism does not prevent learning and personal growth.
Why is autism so hard to change? Well, it's hard-wired in; both in the genetics and in how your brain works. We would need about the same sort of technology to cure autism as we would need to create designer babies (autism is genetically complex and it is not a matter of changing one gene, but multiple ones and different ones) and to change, damage-free, the human brain into any configuration of cognition and personality (to change the already-present neurological wiring). Anything less is not a complete cure.
(I must be sure not to confuse "cure" with "improvement", as the first is impossible and the second almost inevitable. Autistic people learn, as any human does; and learning can mean learning to get along in the world--in some cases, usually with mild Asperger's, to the point that you have found viable solutions for all of the drawbacks, and your autism is diagnosable only by history. Physical health can also be improved, which makes life easier for anyone, especially the ultra-sensitive autistic. But none of these things are cures.)
What I'm talking about--a complete cure--is something that won't be possible for decades, certainly... probably a few hundred years, realistically, for the sort of control over the changes made that might actually leave your personality mostly intact.
When people buy lottery tickets, they're essentially buying hope.... the hope that they might one day become rich and get everything they want, rather than living an average life of often menial work. But every dollar they spend on the lottery is a dollar they could have spent on some of the things they want.
The problem I see with wanting a cure is that it seems to obscure everything else--you pin all your hopes on that one thing, and you forget that there's a life to be lived, with autism, and that this life isn't empty or worthless even though it may have its drawbacks. You start to see everything bad in your life as there because of your autism; and everything good that you want as something you could get if only you weren't autistic.
But... there is no cure. There won't be one for a long time--possibly never. People have lived good, happy, fulfilling, purposeful lives with all the problems that autism can bring, and more. And people without any sort of disability at all have had unhappy, empty, miserable lives.
Lottery tickets are all well and good. Maybe it's fun to think of what you might do with a million or more. But if you spend your money on ticket after ticket, hoping, there comes a point at which all that money spent on lottery tickets could have been used to make your life better, as it is, without having to win anything at all. A dollar every day spent on tickets is $365 a year, enough to give somebody a really good Christmas. Save for five years, and you can go on vacation. Some people spend more than a dollar every day. One ticket is OK; a few might be fun; but buy enough, and you're pinning your money on what is probably empty hope when you could spend it to make your life a little better right now.
While parents pin their hopes on cures, their children live lives where medicine and therapy push out childish fun and real learning. While teen and adult autistics hope for cures, they ignore the good parts of life that they can have right now, with or without autism. I could be harsh and say "You are autistic, you will always be autistic; now learn to work with it," but if you think about it, that isn't such a harsh statement at all. Accepting yourself for who you are instead of thinking yourself unacceptable is about the most satisfying feeling in the world; and when you do that, you can learn to work with what you have--even if it isn't a lot; even if you're severely disabled; even if you face a lot of prejudice--and end up with a decent life, autism or no autism.
Maybe, magically, someone might invent a procedure that would turn autistic people into non-autistic people, damage-free, with most of the personality intact; but until then, you've got a life to live; it's not doomed to be an unhappy life; and wishing for a cure won't make anybody invent one sooner. It's the only life you've got; make it count.
Or you could just keep buying lottery tickets, wasting your money... wasting your time... and hoping for the big win...
Wanting or not wanting a cure has much more to do with how you handle your autism than anything else. You could say, "I'll take a cure if one comes along, but for now I'm going to live my life," or you could put your life on hold hoping for a cure that never materializes... Too many autistic people and their parents are choosing that second option, and missing out on life because of it.
I can't force you to say, as I do, that you don't want a cure; but at the very least, realize that right now you can't change the fact that you are autistic, which means that just like me you are living with autism; that it's not impossible to have a good life with autism, as there are many people who have done it (and most of them didn't have any Einstein-like skills); that "disabled" does not mean "worthless"; and that autism does not prevent learning and personal growth.