The thing I hate the most about knowing I am autistic is... clarity. Before, I would feel awkward or have an unease that ranged from vague to distracting. But now I see my own behaviors in real time...
- I feel threatened if I can't mask well
- I struggle with the cadence of a conversation with new people... how to open it, knowing when to talk, what to say, how to sound
- When I am under stress, I will be more impulsive, interrupt, autocomplete people's sentences, feel impatient
- Bright lights bother me if I feel overwhelmed by other things. Overwhelm seems to be a delicate balance always even in the best of times.
- I overshare
- I make weird jokes out of nowhere
Back in the day, I thought my experience of how I percieve and act was more common, but the more I interact, the more I feel like an alien. Things that people seem to have wired in them are elusive to me. Because I've made so many social mistakes in my life, sometimes I wish I could silence myself. Sometimes I feel like giving up. Sometimes I feel angry, because I didn't choose to be different. Sometimes I consider my perception a blessing. Relishing my ability to organize, find patterns, notice little details. Sometimes the little detailes want to crash my system completely. I especially feel this around people. They are scary, half the time the don't say what they mean or mean what they say, and I feel like this uphill battle to try to connect is a losing battle for people like me. I want to connect, but it's like walking on sharp objects. Sometimes I wonder... I wonder if clarity was worth it, what value is my grief going to give me on the path to healing, or whether the most hurtful parts of me are indeed set in stone. That my body requires that I breathe, eat, and not fit in. I always believed in neuroplasticity, the power to change. But I wonder if I was too broad and must make peace with my own hardware.
I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don’t know why, some people fill the gaps and others emphasize my loneliness.
– Anaïs Nin