Nowadays, support teams talk a lot about having me incarcerated. I avoid them while my dad covers for me. I resent my dad for his ill treatment, but his resentment is understandable; I'd also mock an autistic child of my own out of anger. It's necessary. I'd have wasted my life, my joy and wellbeing, on a spoiled and entitled autistic brat who can't even tie his own shoelaces, who won't even leave the house to talk to people without having a fit, who pretends to read and understand philosophy just to look mentally independent to an invisible tribunal that will never be satisfied.