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  1. epiphanycakes

    UNDERTALE

    Hey all just wondering if anyone here has played UNDERTALE its and indie pc and mac game that's an rpg ? I thought it would be good to post because it teaches empathy and non violence and is very emotion based raver than skill based http://undertale.com/demo.htm
  2. RiRi

    Ongoing Story

    I've been thinking of this game for a while now, but wasn't really sure how to make the rules, whether I should have it be two sentences per member, three words, etc. The game is basically an ongoing story that we'll create. A member will post six words and then the next member will post another six words that flow with the previous six words and so on. For example: Member 1: Yesterday I was thinking that maybe Member 2: I can start writing a story. Member 3: So I started writing down my Member 4: thoughts. I thought that maybe I I'll start: Yesterday I heard a noise outside
  3. Scott

    In Between Days

    Hello to anyone who decides to read this. First off, no, this isn't about The Cure, I just love that song, and I like it as a title for anything. Second, I've been feeling awful within myself recently. I've felt like I am not worth the atoms used to create me, and that I should be wiped from the earth. But, after a long conversation with a good friend of mine (he will know who he is), I've decided to write this, to air my life in a way that I can finally fully talk without fear of possibly being shunned or ostracised, and to help myself move on from bad things that happened to me in the past. I was born in 1997. I was 6 weeks premature, and i was tiny. Yet I was healthy, and had little to no problems. Sure, I couldn't fit into any clothes initially, but that was only a wait of a month or so before I got big enough. My mum and dad were happy and proud, and life was quite nice for a long time. Yet, around a year and a half after I was born, my mum kicked my dad out, for a combination of reasons (my dad committed identity fraud and was told in no certain terms to leave, and my mother cheated on him with a friend of his). I had no contact with my dad until I was 11. My stepdad initially was fine, a good parent and a good partner. But somewhere along the way, a certain drug took hold of him. Heroin. He became a vile person, a mockery of life, and from the time I can remember him starting to be abusive (when I was around 4, he started earlier, but I cannot remember much), until I was nearly 8, he beat me, and my mum, and verbally abused us along side it. He gave my mum a daughter, who I don't want to know, but unfortunately she's still in the family. It was 4 years of hell. Alleviated only by going to my grandparents every weekend. My grandparents were and are my lifeline, it is with them that I am here talking to you today. They noticed that when I visited, I was very tense, and highly strung, but got very calm very quickly with them. They knew something was going on, and they didn't like it, but since they couldn't SEE anything, they couldn't do anything. Until that waste of space burgled us for heroin money. He burgled his own house, his own family so he could send it straight into his veins. And he lied about it too. He was never convicted, and we didn't find out until after my mum left him. My grandmother straight away took me to her and my grandfather, but they couldn't do the same for my sister, who was taken into the care system. This was the beginning of a nicer, calmer, less violent stage of my life. I could be myself at last, and nothing would phase me. But there were things that concerned my grandparents. For one thing, I didn't respond to change well, at all. I had heavy obsessions. I was reclusive, and didn't want to go outside with other kids. This didn't phase my grandmother, who wanted to - and still does, which I don't blame her for at all - mollycoddle me and wrap me in cotton wool. My grandfather was very concerned and was sometimes a little bit mean towards me; one time he managed to very much upset me by comparing me to my sister, who was social, while I told kids to go away and let me read. He meant well, but it didn't help me. They knew something was up, but what, was no one's guess. So did the primary schools I went to, but either they didn't care, or didn't want to acknowledge anything was wrong. It was only thanks to kind TAs that I got through. At a friend's one day, shortly before leaving primary school (within the last months at least), I met his mother's friend, who noticed various things up with me. Little did I know she was a child psychologist, and saw that I was a very obvious case of Asperger Syndrome; she noticed because at the time I was heavily obsessed with professional wrestling, and it was one of the only things I wanted to talk about. She told my grandmother, and by the time I was 2/3rds of the way through year 7 in secondary school, I was diagnosed. Finally, a reason as to why I was so atypical! I didn't know much at first, but I wore the label with pride. I also met my dad for the first time for many years that year, and I found out I had two brothers and a sister to! And a whole other side of the family that I never knew I had! I was over the moon, and still am in many ways today. The change to secondary school months prior though, was anything but easy. I hated it, as I have always hated school, and all education. It was a massive change. And so began what I call my worst years. I was always buillied, rather relentlessly I might add. It got bad at secondary school. Really bad. I had no friends for the first year pretty much. It was just... well, hellish. They were difficult years. I lashed out at people that loved me when it got bad. I tried to become a person I wasn't, and cultivate a certain persona. I rarely washed or bathed, which was in hindsight the worst thing to do. I stunk, I had greasy hair, I was a fucking waste of skin. Funnily enough though, I started to eventually make friends. I talked to people more, I opened up more. The fact I was such an individual sort of comforted people I imagine, that I didn't want to be like other people. I got friendly with many people, and despite the fact I was pretty much repulsive.... I had friends everywhere. I was even very friendly with teachers. But in year 9, things started to get bad. First off, I had a FOUL schedule, I was in classes every wednesday with peopel that I hated, and people that hated me. Many arguments occured. I got stick from even the teachers at one point, and they were all lessons I didn't do well in. Woodwork, textiles, cooking etc. Things that required skills I didn't have, nor didn't need. I also had a very traumatic thing happen to me, from a teacher I used to really like. my work had gone missing, he asked why, I said I didn't know. He got slowly more annoyed, while I stayed rather stoic, which probably annoyed him. He interrupted me in the middle of sentence and screamed at me, ripping me to shreds in front of the class. He even threatened to call home and tell my mum, and since I didn't live with her, that cut VERY deep. I was shaking, and crying, yet he didn't care at all. I even filed a complaint against him, someone had to hold the pen for me. But I found out that no one in that class, even my friends in there, actually thought he did anything wrong. That was the worst thing. To get torn to shreds hurts. But to be told by friends that they thought he was in the right to do so broke me. I had asked the school to call home and tell my grandparents about it, since I was going on a 3 day trip. But they didn't, and it was up to me to tell them. they were appalled, but nothing much was done since it was 'over with'. That's something I still haven't quite forgiven the grandparents for. I also fell in love in that year, deeply in love. The girl was my best friend at the time. On Valentines Day, 2012, I poured my heart out into a card. The next day... it was like I wasn't there. She completely blanked me for months, and when she DID start talking to me again, she was rude and callous. That is still a fresh wound, and one that probably won't heal for another while yet. That, was when depression started to take me. The rest of my secondary school life was a blur, and I remember not much. I remember, that she did eventually apologise to me, and that I really didn't deserve it. That made me feel better, but it wasn't enough to make me forgive and forget; I forgave, but it's something I won't forget. I learned many things outside of school as well. I found at one point from my mother, that my grandfather, my role model for years, had cheated on my grandmother in the '80s. That made me lose a huge amount of respect for him. Then I noticed when he would be a horrible person. He'd goad people into arguments, then launch a deeply personal attack on them, ripping them to utter pieces and making them feel awful and like they were at fault when my grandfather would be the one to goad them. He was diagnosed with cancer of the throat in 2013. During radiotherapy, be became nasty. Nastier than he had ever been. He never directed anything at me, but I noticed that he was a lot crueler to my grandmother. He was awful to her, and verbally abusive. He said things that no one should ever hear. Yet my grandmother soldiered on, when in my eyes he didn't even deserve to be acknowledged; people tried to justify it to me, but there is no justification for cruelty. Eventually, he started to get better, become more of his old self again. Last year though, he slipped a disc in his back - which I will jump to say was entirely his own fault, and something I have no sympathy for - and was bedridden. He became cruel again. Moreso than before. He truly hurt my nan at many points in time, and one incident nearly involved me grabbing a knife from the cutlery drawer and gutting him. He was bedridden for 4 months. I became sick of his presence, and in many ways, I still am. I am no longer comfortable around the man I once looked up to, and that's a heartbreaking thing. I was forced into 6th form in 2013, since it was now the law to attend, and started a BTEC in IT. I have nothing much to say about it, except I have made some BRILLIANT friends in college, friends I will most likely have for life. Yet, it feels awful being there. In the first year, it went fine, nothing too bumpy. Then it changed this year. First, the exam board running the course made some changes. I thought fine... I can adjust. Then I was told I could no longer have in-class and out of class support, since there had been a merger and there was not enough staff. I thought... that's not great, but I can adjust. Then the COLLEGE decided to enforce some truly stupid rules, and that has sealed my doom. I am scared of failing because all the changes made have negatively affected me and all of the other students, yet I still seem to be left in the dust; I am in way over my head, and while I do get help from valuable sources, it is still draining, and has actually caused me to have migraines, the first I've ever had, thanks to stress. IN the past two years, my depression reached its zenith, and I had contemplated many times, ending my life. I got counselling, and that helped, but that stopped soon too. It helped me in many ways though, more than I can describe. I worked myself out of the worst of my depression; I became more open, I talked more, I LISTENED to people more, I PUSHED myself to do things I never thought I could do to better myself overall. So, a lot of you by now must be thinking internally: "Wow, he moans a lot. He's said almost nothing positive." Well, that is sort of true. I've said bits of positivity here and there, but overall it's been quite negative. I can assure you, there is a reason. I spoke about the negativity at length, and kept the positivity short, for two reasons. First, that is to prove that even when there is a cloud, there is a silver lining. And second, that even though it may seem dark at times, with no hope of getitng out, I can assure you, that it will get better. Sure, I'm not in a perfect situation - a perfect one would be in my own flat, with a cat, and maybe a partner - but I am far better at this point than I have ever been. Soon, I will be going on a journey that will change my life, and I will enter the fold of Islam. I won't say that religion is what caused me to get better, because that would be a lie, but it gives me comfort when times are dark, it gives me comfort that even though I am down right now, Allah will have my back. Some of you may not like religion, and I respect that, and I won't say that it caused wonders, but coming to Islam has given me a great deal of comfort. Anyway, I'm rambling, and I don't want to get preachy about religion. The point is, as I said in the last paragraph, that even though things become tough, and sometimes there is no light at the end of the tunnel when you are at your worst; if you work at it, it will get better. Don't sit around, hoping that somehow something will drop out of the sky, because it won't. YOU, must work. YOU, must change. Because only YOU can control YOUR life. Force yourself to do things, and if it doesn't work out quite right, then say, "hey, it didn't go too well. Oh well, that's life." And if it does, congratulate yourself. Don't let the judgement of others cloud your mind, because even though that is a hard thing to do, it will help you come leaps and bounds to improve yourself. Don't kick yourself over anything, because all it does is create self doubt, and self doubt will lead to negative thoughts, and negative thoughts will lead to negative actions, and then who knows what will happen? There's a few people I'd like to thank. Echo (or Kerry to some of us), she's my best friend right now, and one I am proud to have. Alex, I can say very much the same. Anna, she is nothing but nice and sweet to everyone I see on here, and that's such a good thing to be. Everyone in the Asperchat group on Skype, you know who you all are. And I thank WIllow and Chris; because if I didn't click on that video of her Adult Meltdown after seeing it on reddit, I never would have come here, and met every one of you. I would have taken my life, if it wasn't for that chance thing. Thank you all for reading. Peace be with you all, Jazak Allah Khair (May Allāh reward you with goodness) and I love every single one of you. You're a family that I got to choose, and I chose wisely.
  4. ... At a time! Despite the name of the thread, this is not about the song "One Little Victory" by Rush. No, this is much more serious (and not about music.) I realise that I've never formally introduced myself on the forum. And I also don't think I've ever posted the story of how I was diagnosed, at least not publicly. I won't go too much into either. And I won't talk about how the Danish education system works either, even though it's a part of this story. I will however, talk about what has happened to me in my life these past 5 years. The good and the bad. I'm posting this (even though it might be utter rubbish, or you might not care) because I feel that it might give some of you hope. Or at least something to read when you're bored... In fact, you may want to grab a snack, as it's going to be a long one! Going back to my childhood, I've always known I was different in some way. I couldn't understand some of the things that happened around me, and I didn't feel that I fitted in. I also remember clear signs of anxiety in my childhood. But not knowing I had Asperger's was the worst part. My parents divorced when I was 5 or 6, and I guess that left a scar on me as well. Let's have a look at my life about 5 years ago in 2010. I was 15 years old, I had just had a mental breakdown, and I stopped going to school. This was mainly because of bullying and being completely fed up with sitting in a noisy classroom with 30 other students. So I quit. Bad decision? Maybe. Maybe not. But one thing's for sure: I couldn't take another day, let alone stay another minute. I was severely depressed and anxious all the time, suicidal, and half a year later I was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, Social- and Generalised Anxiety Disorder, plus severe depression. I was basically scraping the bottom of the poo barrel (not literally though!) I was offered meds for anxiety and depression, which I gladly accepted. I tried a few different ones, and eventually settled on a combination of meds that helped me, even though they had heavy side-effects. A year passed where I stayed home, being miserable and close to a psychosis. I was terrified of leaving my mother's apartment. I was basically a hermit. Leaving my home was literally painful, not to mention just living in general. Think a constant 10 on the anxiety scale, when I was outside. Now, don't ask me how, but somehow I found one little glimpse of hope in the distance. It only took a whole year. That little speckle of hope and will to fight, led me to start at a new school in a class with only a couple of students, in order to finish my exams. They all had either Asperger's or anxiety, or both. Starting at a new place in my condition.. Well, it wasn't easy. Far from it. This was actually one of the toughest periods of my life. But soon I discovered that the teachers there, were the kindest and most understanding teachers I've ever had. Not to mention the students who were all lovely too. That helped me through a lot, knowing that no matter how much I hated being there, there were people who I cared about, and who cared about me. I only needed 1 more year before my exams, but it took me 2. But despite all the challenges, I managed to complete the exams at last, and with good grades! It's now been almost 2 years since then. So what have I been doing in this time? I've been working on bettering myself. I try to challenge myself, as often as possible, while not overdoing it and burning out. Baby steps, they say! One little victory at a time. I've come so far compared to 2 years ago, and especially 5 years ago. It took lots of time, and A LOT of hard work, but it has definitely paid off. I'm not depressed anymore. My anxiety levels are much more tolerable and I'm feeling better and better all the time, with only the occasional anxiety attack. I go out much more often than I used to now. And the meds I'm taking are working much better than what I used to take. Eventually, I may get off of them I'm also seeing a psychiatrist who specialises in CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) and she has helped me loads, I have my own mentor who I train various things with, like going various places, etc. I will also *hopefully* start studying again soon. I'm thinking this summer/autumn. So yeah, I'm in a much better (less terrifying) place now, things are finally looking good for me, I have the will to live, and I'm positive about the future (most of the time.) This might not seem so amazing to everyone else, but what I've gone through and how far I've come, really is an achievement to me. But this is only the beginning, and I have so far to go. The battle is never over. So what is the point of this story? Well, my point is really that there is always hope out there. No matter how far down you are, who you are, or where you are from. There's always hope, even if you can't immediately see it. Some people say that "time heals all wounds", and while I think that's true, I also think that you have to work for it. It does get easier with time though. And as much as I hate this saying "No pain, no gain" it's actually true to some extend, in my opinion at least. A wise man once said, that there are people out there who loves you, even if they don't know you yet. Just because you're human. Thanks for reading! ~Alex P.S. If I can do it, then YOU can do it too!
  5. Okay, so when I was a kid I used to play by myself, sometimes with dolls, and I would have elaborate situations and characters, but I would be every single character. And my play situations would be crazy weird like I would be blind, deaf, or a drug addict (I would pretend the "smarties" candies were pills) or that I was being mind controlled or switching bodies. Sometimes I would recreate movie or show scenes in my play,and all or most of the dialogue would be in my head. I knew it wasn't real, so I'm not schizophrenic or anything lol. But, I don't really recall playing with that many other kids, other than my siblings and cousins, I think we would play pretend but it would be like cops and robbers or something like that. I got mad when I would play games like tag with other kids since I would always be "it" and be chasing people, and it just stunk. My mom claims she had my play pattern as a kid too, but I don't think she understood what I was describing. Anyways, have any of you played liked this?
  6. Hiya guys Anyone can answer, but I'd really appreciate the help of parents with children on the Autistic Spectrum. I think what I'm asking about would be called social stories. But they're whatever you want to call them: short stories for children with Autism or Aspergers, aimed at helping them understand things better in a fun and light hearted way. I am going to be writing some stories with my characters Koby and Friends and I want to know if there's any specific thing you would like to be covered. The first one I am doing is about sharing. I grew up with a younger brother who struggled a lot when he was a toddler/very young child, so I know a lot about coping methods (well the ways we coped anyway) and about what can set a child off. And of course, I have Aspergers, my partner has Aspergers etc, so I think I should do okay. Also, can you tell me which font you prefer in terms of being the best for your children to read and copy, whilst still being accurate to how they are taught at school.
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