I have a brother who has mild autism. I am very careful to never use the word "suffering". My brother is not suffering from autism. He merely has it.
This short film hit me hard. I was that scumbag of a sister who would shout and scream at my brothers if they did something wrong or messed with my things. That's probably why they're more scared of me than they are of my parents.
Sometimes, I think, why me? Why my family? What did we do to deserve having someone we know we love have a condition that makes us hate him occasionally? To tell you the truth, my brother's condition is not that bad. It has gotten so much better, and I've learnt to appreciate him and keep my cool. He just can't communicate with others as normal people would. He throws tantrums. But we can't do anything about it. You know what's the worst thing about seeing someone you love have a condition like this? You're so close to being able to communicate with him, to have everything as "it's supposed to be", but you can't do anything. You can't help him get better. You can't deprive him of anything, or give him more of something to make things better. It gets torturous sometimes.
I guess people just need to get used to it, and understand. My parents are great. They love him despite anything, and have so much patience. It's me and my other brother that needs work. We know we'll get there, and my brother will get better too.
People with autism. They will probably be the nicest people you'll ever meet. Innocent, undoubting. If they can talk, they would never lie to you. Not judgemental. They get so much joy out of the most mundane things. Extremely talented in a specific area. They are amazing. They're not suffering.
