autism
Musings on the challenges of the holidays, yearning to be understood, and letting go.
This isn't how it was supposed to go.
Heavily redacted.
Six months down, XXX to go.
Here's what I think...
As complete as is reasonable, anyway.
It's not a sex thing, I promise.
I know you can hear me.
Autistic sensory sensitivities are routinely ignored, leaving long-lasting scars.
Rumination refuses to let me move on from past traumas, forcing me to relive them over and over and over again.
I promise I don’t hate you. I promise I’m not as miserable as I look. It’s just my face. I can’t help it.
A real, fancy-degree-having doctor diagnosed me Autistic, yet still a little voice in my head doubts the validity of their conclusion.
No one said moving to the other side of the world would be easy, but doing so as an Autistic person has been...challenging.
The practical uses of an Autism diagnosis are perhaps questionable, but the personal validation it offers should not be understated.