As I sit wondering, how to express the horror, that is now my life.
I can hear my daughter shouting, and the two care workers chatting, bored, in my kitchen.
It is 10.30 am.
I am sick of explaining my plight to strangers, who can do nothing, but are paid to pretend.
To date, over 20 strangers have sat in my kitchen, and heard my lament.
A lament, then repeated again, in countless meetings to their bosses, and, their social service pay masters.
No one hears.
As they see no point.
My daughter’s future was prescribed from birth.
Her ‘best interests’, will always be those of the state.
A state that offers only one controlled, secret future, away from all who care, see, and listen.
The one most profitable to the state’s private corporate agencies .
My daughter was born autistic.
The perfect cash cow.