I can't believe I just had to say that.
Alex Spourdalakis is dead. He was stabbed by his mother.
You would think it's obvious that the mother did something wrong.
You would think.
Or so I thought.
That poor woman, she had it so rough. If she had just gotten the help she asked for (and refused). If there had been more services available. She's been through so much. She's tried so hard. If he just hadn't been so damned BAD, she wouldn't have HAD to kill him. He was such a burden, she had no choice. She did him a favor. She freed him from his autism. Oh, Dorothy, we are so sorry you had to go through that.
Are you fucking kidding me!?
She murdered her son and you blame the victim?
Oh, but, wait... he was autistic. That changes everything. "...the word special after all makes discrimination okay."
Alex is dead. That is not ok. Not understandable. Not a blessing for him.
It is not his fault.
As Alex lay in his bed, Dorothy got a knife. The woman who was supposed to protect him with her own life, the woman who was supposed to love him unconditionally and put his needs above her own violated every aspect of being a mother. She stabbed him four times in the chest. She slit his wrists. After she stole his life, she washed the knife and put it away. She popped some pills and lay back to wait for help knowing it was too late for her son.
Fuck you, Dorothy. I don't feel sorry for you. I don't sympathize. You will never get an ounce of pity from me.
It is not ok to kill your kids.
It is not ok to blame the victim.