As has been requested (endlessly) EK's Star Log is returning to the internet. You can still read the original archive here... https://eelkat.wordpress.com
The reason you couldn't find it is because I set it to private un-index mode, meaning it no longer shows up in Google search results and can only be accessed by a direct link.
Meaning, if you didn't have the url for it, no amount of searching for it would tell you how to find it. Anyone who had the url could still access it though.
I had set it to private September 23, 2013, intending to move each page here to EelKat.com... however, November 14, 2013, after only moving about 30 pages, I was beaten up and left paralyzed for 5 months, then spent 18 months relearning to walk. I am still crippled and have limited mobility.
Below is one of the blog posts that originally appeared on EK's Star Log. The original articles are still online but no longer indexed in Google. Links to the original article, are included with this post, as is the original posting date. Clicking the links will take you to the original site, where you can see the old Space Dock 13 website still online. Space Dock 13 as it looked when hosted on WordPress from 2003 to 2013.
Understanding what is really going on inside the child’s head.
After searching countless forums and sites and library books, I have come to one conclusion, and that is, that the most asked question about autism is: “What is really going on inside that child’s head?”This question, actually bothers me. Why? Well, how rude would it be if I walked up to you and demanded to know what was going on inside YOUR head? See? Doesn’t sound so innocent when it’s asked to a “normal” person does it.
It’s like a white person looking at a black person and saying: “Your skin is a different color than mine, so what goes on inside your head?” Can you see how utterly offensive this question would be if it was ask to anyone OTHER than an autistic? And yet no one seems to see any problem with asking it, and not to the autistic, mind you, but rather to so-called experts who “claim” to know what’s going on inside the autistic’s head, because they studied autistics!
Why doesn’t any one actually ask some one who has autism what’s going on inside their head? Why ask people who DO NOT have it?
How could some one without autism actually KNOW what is going on inside the head of anyone other than themselves?
Let me ask it this way:
How long have you been married? Five years? Ten years? Twenty? You must know you spouse really well them right? Okay, so what are they thinking about right now? What’s going on inside their head? You are such an expert on your spouse, so tell me, what are they thinking?
You can’t tell me. And you know why you can’t tell me? Because you are NOT your spouse! You have no way of going inside their head and seeing what it is that goes on in there. So how do these doctors get off claiming to know what goes on inside the head of ANYONE, autistic or otherwise?
Okay, so what does go on inside an autistic’s head than? I don’t know, what goes on inside your head? I think the problem here is that we are dealing with a very vague question. What goes on inside my head? Well, right now, I’m thinking about how my Ranchus have doubled in size in less than two months and with soon need a bigger tank, and wondering why they eat their eggs within a few hours after they lay them. I’m also wondering why evil men exist in this would and why they think they can get away with crimes and why the government allows them to get away with crimes if they are a priest.
I’m wishing it wasn’t raining right now, because my house (a tarp over a woodpile) is not entirely waterproof after three years, and I’m also looking at these blueprints I drew up yesterday and wondering how I can fix the “tent” and how much longer it’ll have to be my home. Which brings me to thinking about why I live under a tarp, and wondering why people thought it was okay to burn my house down because they didn’t think that someone like me had any feelings to be hurt and thus wouldn’t care that they destroyed my home and caused me to be homeless. Which lead me to thinking about how “normal” people treat people like me who have Asperger’s and resulted in me building this lens about autism.
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I’m also thinking that I am hungry, and that I’ll probably cook some pasta and pickles after I get done writing this lens, but first I have to feed my 13 cats (whoops, 16, as of yesterday, 3 new strays showed up in the tent last night!). I’m disappointed that it is raining, because the roosters don’t get to go outside when it’s raining, and they love to help me tend the garden, they esp love digging up weeds, eating grubs, and eating the new shoots off of my long stem roses. On days like today when it is raining, all they cal do is wait in the barn for the rain to stop.
I’m missing my dog Buddy, who was my best friend for 13 years, but who just recently died, and I’m shocked that shelter dogs start at $495 and go into the thousands! I’m very upset that I can not find a way to come up with enough money to pay the shelter $495 for a buff Cocker Spaniel in Biddeford, who was taken away from her family because she attacked the baby.
I got my Buddy 13 years ago, because he was a buff Cocker Spaniel who bit a baby. Buddy was different from other dogs, he was temperamental, nervous, skittish, and had a deep set fear of humans, thus he attacked every one that got near him, until the day he was handed to me with the words “Take him, no one can do anything with him, and you have a way with animals, I know you’ll be able to handle him.” Buddy, was like a dog version of me.
Outcast, unloved, unwanted, misunderstood, beaten, abused, tortured, tormented, hated, no friends, no one to talk to, left abandoned to die alone . . . all he needed was someone who understood him and was willing to put up with the fact that he just wasn’t your normal average dog. And now this other dog has been in the paper and on web sites, the shelter is desperate to find her a home, but no one wants her because she is different from other dogs.
It’s like my Buddy all over again, and I’d take her in a second, but the shelter wants $495 dollars for her, and I just don’t have it. My income is only $2,000 a year, that's 4 months of my income if I bought no food or feminiie pads or shampoos, etc.
Outcast, unloved, unwanted, misunderstood, beaten, abused, tortured, tormented, hated, no friends, no one to talk to, left abandoned to die alone. A dog exactly like me.
I wish there was some one out there who loved me.
I wish there was some one out there who wanted me.
I wish there was some one out there who was willing to talk to me.
I wish there was some one out there who would be my friend and I wonder what it must be like to have a friend, as I've never had one before.
I wish there was some one out there who wanted to do something other then beat me.
I’m also wondering what my brothers look like today, because they told me on FaceBook that they got haircuts last night, and since the fire 3 years ago, we don’t live together any more, they live two towns away and I only get to see them a couple of times a week now, which makes me very sad and lonely because I have never lived by myself before and these past three years have been really hard, because I live alone now, and I’m not used to that. I’ve always had my family with me before.
Well, that’s what’s going on in my head right now. Is it any different from the things that go on in your head?
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Posted in Biddeford, death, dogs, EelKat, Maine, Old Orchard Beach, Wendy C. Allen
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