I’m Jackie Venus (she/they)—self‑taught illustrator/artist, writer, advocate, and a multiply‑disabled person navigating life in Appalachian poverty alone with my cats.

I’m AuDHD (autistic and ADHD), AFAB but my gender identity is non‑binary, and I live with CPTSD, PCOS, MCAS/HIT, and numerous other invisible disabilities—all of which influence how I have to navigate the world daily.

I have been on SSDI since 2009 due to prolonged PTSD. Although, it’s much more complex than that original diagnosis with all my other invisible disabilities that get worse with age and no supports to help someone like me.

I have stories to tell about how dehumanizing that existence truly is—even from other marginalized folks who stand on platforms claiming to care and “help” people like me. I still feel left out, unheard, exploited, and dehumanized by them as well.

How can one recover from severe trauma when the systems they need to survive are still actively traumatizing them daily? The answer is that they cannot, and that’s why I need to tell my stories for others to hear.

I’ve always been the outcast of the outcasts—people whom larger society rejects also tend to reject me. Around the time I turned 45 I finally accepted that this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

I’ve found strength in my ability to walk away from many people and systems that others recognize as wrong but tend to ignore to preserve their privileges or their perceived proximity to privileges .

I’m no longer willing to pretend that the norms other humans accept are okay, just for me to fit in and/or survive. I decided I’d rather die alone than ignore how people horribly treat each other, animals, and the planet. All while attacking anyone that dares to call them out on their hypocritical bullshit.

I found others rather me suffer and die alone, than look themselves in the mirror at the harm they, and the people close to them, cause. Some will even laugh at my pain and suffering by telling themselves I am getting what I deserve.

While I no longer wish to die anytime soon, I recognize that walking alone as a multiply‑marginalized person is often a death sentence. Especially if you’re multiply disabled.

Without a local community, the danger increases, and the mental‑health toll of isolation manifests in the body as numerous health conditions.

Which I believe many of my invisible disabilities are the direct cause of the prolonged abuse I’ve constantly had to live in, that my body will never fully recover from.

Still, I’d rather die quickly with integrity and authenticity than stand beside humans who have lost their humanity, lack emotional maturity and self awareness, or are too toxic to be around.

I don’t expect others to be perfect. I just expect them to hold themselves accountable when someone points out the harm they cause. Most aren’t willing to truly do that, though.

Our current society rewards those who cause the most harm, and I don’t have the energy or resources to take on each entity individually.

My goal in creating and sharing my art is to help people who are struggling with similar abuses learn how to navigate them and advocate for themselves as safely as possible.

I also believe I will learn new things by connecting with others through my art, as well. I know I still have so much to learn in this life and hope I never believe I know everything so need to stop learning and growing.

I truly believe that if enough of us learn to walk away from, or stand up to, these types of people and systems whenever we can, they will eventually collapse and minimally exist.

I realized I can either let the horrible things that have happened—and continue to happen—turn me into a bitter, frightened, miserable person, or transmute all that pain into something positive.

Not in a toxically positive way, where I bury my head in the sand and pretend everything will improve just by meditating or burning sage, but by realistically speaking my pain aloud while still holding space for the things that bring me contentment and joy.

After being formally diagnosed autistic in 2019 at the age of 39, I began immersing myself in autism research online and made connections I never thought possible across the USA and abroad.

In 2024 I was hired for a part‑time role as a co‑researcher through the Double rainbow Lab at UMass. Then as illustrator on the same project in 2025, for a peer‑reviewed publication that is now close to submission.

I never imagined I could combine my top two special interests without holding a degree in either field. It’s been an honor to connect with the professionals and peers I’ve been able to without even putting myself out there fully.

For someone who was constantly told I wasn’t good enough for such spaces, I sometimes still doubt myself, but am excited at what the future holds for me with my advocacy, writing, and artwork.

Even if I never manage to turn my art into a full‑time career that keeps me gainfully employed—my disabilities tend to worsen with age and I’m not sure how much I can realistically do—I’m still excited to be even a small part of the changes our society collectively needs.

Art is my love language, and creating this kind of work lets me know I’m sending that love back into the universe.

All of my art, even the whimsy and fun stuff, is a reflection of who I truly am beyond other’s expectations of me and my experiences in this life.

It encompasses joy, sorrow, and everything in between: the systems and people who abused me, my newfound spirituality and journey into the unknown, my special connection with cats, and much more.

My art won’t be embraced by the largest masses, but I believe it will resonate with far more people than just myself.

So if you’re here, thank you. But be warned: my art and advocacy aren’t exactly a “safe space.” I discuss and illustrate hard topics that come with multiple content/trigger warnings.

These are my stories to tell, so if you don’t like what I have to say just move along. I refuse to make myself smaller to make others feel more comfortable anymore.

If you think I’m too much, go find less.

Kind Regards,
Jackie Venus