I always tell my son that people are a lot like crystals. The ‘perfect’ ones are never quite as interesting. The cracks in us are much like the cracks in a crystal..to some, they may be a ‘flaw’ but to others, they see that those cracks reflect the sunlight. A perfectly unique beauty of their own
I write. I create. I ponder. I feel. I see…what so many don’t. I love. I wonder. I study. I feel. I indulge. I gain understanding. I reflect. I FEEL. I express……I shatter into pieces.
I collect. I feel. I rebuild. I start fresh and clean. I feel. I love.
I write. I create. I ponder.
Take my hand, my little shining star. I promise you it’s gonna be ok.
We’ll brave this big scary world together, even if I don’t always know the right way.
I’ll be here for you, my sweet joy of life. You’re my perfect beam of light.
Forever and ever, my precious one. I’ll love you with every ounce of my might.
Unconditionally is the way you are loved, I just hope that one day you’ll see.
You are so very special, my beautiful child. You are everything to me.
I am so happy to tell ya’ll, I was invited back to WMVO this year to write and record another autism awareness PSA!!!!
Please share on all your social media. It’s a very important message that needs to be heard.
It’s so hard to be 100% authentic in a world that values the fake. Trust me, I know.
I have a lot of things that are difficult for me, and for years, I’ve felt ashamed to talk about any of it to anyone but my doctor, husband, and closest friends. It sucks, but it’s grown to be part of my nature now. I can advocate and talk about my son’s issues with ease but it’s different with all of my ‘stuff’. I just try to deal with everything on my own most of the time.
A perfect example, a few years back my lung collapsed and instead of going to to hospital immediately when I first experienced severe pain, I laid on the couch for over 24 hours until the pain was so excruciating that I literally thought I was gonna die. And even after I was checked into the hospital with a chest tube, I still just wanted to rip that damn thing out and go home and tough it out. When we arrived at the hospital, my lung was over 80% deflated and I spent 9 days in a bed with that stupid tube in my chest attached to a box. I couldn’t even roll over or go to the bathroom. I was stuck there over Christmas, which made me extremely anxious and put me in a horrible depression. I know I could have avoided a lot of that and probably would have had a much shorter hospital stay if I hadn’t been so stubborn and would have just said something sooner.
Ignoring my issues has been a running theme for me in my life until recently. I’m about 99% sure my toe is broken right now, I haven’t been able to put pressure on my foot for a couple weeks now. Do you think I’m going to go the dr? Hell no I’m not. Would I make Bug or Moosher go if it happened to one of them? You bet your sweet ass I would! Trust me, I know how dumb that sounds so I’m really working on changing it.
People view vulnerability as weakness. It sucks, but it’s the truth. I don’t view myself as weak, so I don’t typically like to show my hand. I like to keep it well guarded, close to my chest. I’m really trying to pry my fingers back, you guys. Vulnerability and authenticity aren’t weakness at all im my eyes. To me, it’s pure 100% beauty. I just wish everyone else saw it that way too.
It wasn’t until recently when my son opened my eyes, that I had a true epiphany and realized my focus has been in the wrong place all along. I pretend to have it all together and every day I tell my sweet boy to feel free to be himself. But for a long time, I wasn’t being myself. I needed to be leading by example but I was too worried about being judged and misunderstood…but I’m judged and misunderstood anyhow so now it doesn’t seem to make much difference.
The long and short of it is, everyone has their issues at some point, and if you put up a facade and refuse to deal with them, you’re ultimately stunting your own growth. You’re only hurting yourself in the end.
Along the way I’ve learned that many times,
the ones who feel unloved show the most love.
The ones who aren’t cared for are the ones who care the most.
The uncomforted are the most comforting.
The souls filled with sadness spend their days trying to fill others with happiness.
The broken try to help others heal.
Many times, we seek out what we desperately need for ourselves by giving it to someone else.
Part one here.
I always knew I was different. Looking back, I think a lot of the people in my life knew I was different too. None of us could pinpoint it back then but here I am. I excelled at a very early age, but once I was in school, I struggled with control, and most of all, my mouth. I did ok with attaining friendships but I definitely had struggles in my relationships once I had them. I was often misunderstood so I would act out as a result. I had bad ADD, and at the time, issues like that were played down. I was simply considered a dreamer, overly sensitive, and hyper. I have always had sensory issues. I have always had obsessions. I can remember one of my favorite things to do was to put on a long poofy coat I had and sitting in mud puddles for fun. I loved the way it felt with the weight of that wet coat pulling against my body. And when I wasn’t soaking up water in a mud puddle at the church parking lot across the street, I liked to write reports on things out of my encyclopedias….for fun. Or try on a new accent I heard on tv and adopt it as my own. Back then, you weren’t considered a sensory seeker. There was no such thing as sensory issues back then. Obsessions were overlooked as well. You were either sensitive or ‘creative in play activities’, or you were a ‘picky eater’, or ‘eclectic and eccentric’. We just didn’t have the same understanding of aspergers and sensory issues back then. And especially aspergers in women and girls. Aspergers or not, woman are very resourceful. They learn to adapt. I am living proof of that fact.
Growing up, I quickly learned the skill of mimicking, and I must say, it has served me well throughout my life. I’ve spent my 31 years studying people (in my life and on tv) and the things they do, to learn how to do things for myself. Basically, who I am consists of pieces and parts of people that I’ve liked along the way. I always thought it worked that way for everyone. I can’t portray the things I see all the time though, like for example, eye contact. Mine still sucks and it’s painful for me to try to maintain it, especially for long periods of time while having a conversation. When someone is talking to me, particularly someone new or someone I’m not comfortable with, instead of absorbing the words a person is saying I am sitting there thinking ‘Don’t look down. Look at her face. Are you looking at her face?” It makes it very difficult to concentrate. That’s why I love social media. I have time to gather my thoughts and there is zero eye contact so I can really take in what other people say.
I have really bad anxiety. I spend a lot of my time at home but I’m getting better at getting myself out there. Especially if there’s alcohol. It’s truly social lubricant for me. It makes things so much easier. It makes the over thinking and self analyzing go away. When I say “bad anxiety”, I truly mean it. In some areas of my life it’s pretty extreme. I don’t drive. It terrifies me….
I was recently inspired by a stunning aspie friend of mine to share more of my true authentic self and to quit hiding so much so here I sit, writing it all out for everyone to dissect.
It comes with it’s difficulties, but there are definitely perks to being an aspie as well. I am self taught at pretty much everything I’m good at and despite the fact that I can’t play any instruments or carry a tune, I still have a keen ear for music. I have a pretty impressive long term memory. I am proud of it now but I used to conceal it in a way. I can always remember things that other people can’t and sometimes it can be embarrassing if other people don’t know what you’re talking about.. Haha and I should add, the things I remember aren’t always helpful things. I can remember a girl in second grade telling me my hands were as soft as a baby’s. I can also remember the same girl telling me one of our classmates smelled like pee. (Hehe) And I also remember what her shirt looked like the day she told me that. I never knew other people don’t remember things like that. I’ve always been extremely observant. My sense of smell is on a whole other level too. This can be good and bad at times. One time I could smell ketchup and my husband and I searched all over because I KNEW I could smell it. And I was right, I could. It was a tiny drop of ketchup dried up on the counter and I could smell it from downstairs. I also have an insane amount of focus if i’m doing something I love and understand. I can spend hours upon hours emersing myself in a subject. Everything around me is like a blur and all I can see is the task at hand. Hours feel like minutes.
I want to make something really clear. Aspergers isn’t something that scares me or worries me at all. I’m not asking for a pity party or anything even remotely in that ballpark. I obviously figured out ways to cope on my own along the way and I’m ok. In fact, I think I’m better than ok. Honestly, and this may come as a surprise to some, but in a way this was all a huge relief for me. It explained so much and made me feel understood for once. It was validating to me for some reason. It also gave me a totally different view on my son’s autism.
I figured this all out a few years back when I was reading an autism blog written by a neurotypical man. The blog is about his wife, and with every post I read, I saw more and more of myself in his words. Honestly, I felt pretty stupid about it all at first. In all of the years I had researched autism to help Bug, not once did I ever consider that, I myself, could have aspergers. It wasn’t until I read that blog and really started to get curious about my own status, that I realized aspergers in women is completely different than aspergers in men. That was quite the realization for me. A lot of my die hard views on the spectrum instantly went up in smoke.
This post isn’t even the tip of the iceberg but it’s yet another piece of me. It’s kinda scary to put everything out here like this but also very cathartic to break the walls down once and for all. It’s time to really be honest with myself and everyone else. I want my son to know that it’s always okay to be who you are. That starts with me.