I split my writing between this blog and the Stimpunksblog. Stimpunks is a philanthropic LLC we started to house our Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Belonging consulting as well as our direct giving to neurodivergent and disabled creators. More on Stimpunks later.
In this blog I will summarise selected episodes and then show and analyse scenes that depict common autistic experiences. My main focus will be on Abed’s fear of abandonment and his striving for relationships and, well, community.
This blog is wonderful. I’m crying. I am reminded how good it felt watching such fully-developed and compassionate representation. I’m also reminded of the intense feels as Abed processed trauma that hit close to my own experiences.
When I first watched the show, I was thrilled to have found autistic representation, that didn’t make me cringe or feel like I had to correct it all the time. But I soon found out that with accurate representation comes accurate depiction of trauma.
Progressive neuromuscular disease finally put me in a power wheelchair, and I’m loving it. I should have gotten one years ago, but power wheelchairs are two things common to the disabled experience: expensive and logistically cumbersome.
I picked a Porto Mobility Ranger Quattro XL as my chair. That’s US$3000 right there. And then there are the accessories. I’ve turned the chair into a mobile coping platform and life-support system. Some highlights:
300w motors x 2
10Ah motor batteries x 2
3500 lumen headlights x 2
tail/brake lights x 2
full mobile office setup
change of clothes
the 10 Cs of survivability
quick-detach first aid kit including Stop the Bleed
quick-detach go bag
integrated charging harness and battery for all devices
I’m not sure what all of that adds up to price-wise, but let’s call this a 5 thousand dollar rig. That’s a chunk of change. The crip tax is real.
The chair plus batteries weigh a little over 60 pounds. That’s much lighter than many power chairs, but we still need a portable wheelchair lift (also expensive) to get it in our minivan. The logistics of that aren’t fun, but it’s doable.
Aside from the expense and the logistics of travel, this chair is all upside. I love to pace. At least, I used to when I could walk. Back-and-forth, around-and-around, I’d pace my well-worn paths, thinking on the move. I haven’t been able to think on the move for years. My previous manual wheelchair required someone to push me since I can’t push it myself. I couldn’t go for a stim “walk” whenever I wanted. An electric wheelchair allows me to think on the move again. It allows me to pace and loop and drive patterns around our yard while working through the day’s thoughts and worries.