Absolutely beautiful. Just what I needed to read this morning – and I missed it, till now. I’ve been reading accounts by autistic folks, wondering why on earth it’s taking me so long to get through the books.
These are my life, too. These are all about my life, too…
But I stop. Stutter. Have to walk away, take a breath… and more. Let it all sink in, like rain in the desert that first sheets off into arroyos, flooding the gullies and washing to rivers, before the soil becomes damp enough to hold the water.
Piecing my life back together, after being so deliberately fragmented, so intentionally segmented, compartmentalized, sequestered… this is not an easy thing to do.
And it takes time.
So, thank you for sharing the journey with me.
‘You’ll get used to it.” They said, and I waited. I waited for that Cat on a Hot Tin Roof click in my head that would mean it had settled into background noise.
But it never came.
Not for the seams on my socks, or the band of my bra, or the brace for my teeth or the glasses on my nose. Not for the elastic on my arms, or the lump in my sole. Not for the small pains or the big ones.
“You’ll desensitise with time.” They said.
So I gave it time.
More and more ticks and tocks, I poured them all into the deepening, widening hole of time. I gave it a year, then ten, then twenty, then thirty, and more. I gave it patience and space. I used distraction and all my tricks.
But still it stayed.
“There,” they said, “I told you all it…
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