Today Typing Saved My String

     My string is being held captive by my Mom, her idea of punishment for my snapping her broom.  It was an impulsive action on my part, one I have repeated to her horror and my shame many times.  Let me explain.  Some things call out to be done.  Obsession sets in until the deed is complete.  Snapping is one of them; sticks, brooms, anything that makes a snapping sound.  It is a horrible choice  - to snap or be hounded in the thought of it. My punishment I deserve. I was warned. But it does to me nothing positive in solving my dilemma. Only removing the item from sight helps.  Each time I try to hide it my snap reflex beats me.  Can you help with ideas?  Mom says we will practice putting the broom away - but first she'll need to buy a new broom.  I am sorry for its loss, but more sorry for my loss of string.  Good thing Mom understood and let me have my string back when I type and explain it.  Typing has its uses; to tell is one of them.  To tell is a start to understanding.

Where Do I Even Start

The song "Where Do I Even Start" is playing as I write this. It reflects my thoughts. So many voices now Mom describes in Autism; some in conflict, many in unison. I wonder what I have to add to the discussion. Does my uniqueness as an Autist add anything of value for others' experience? For me autism is who I am, my life. I cannot imagine a life in freedom of movement and feeling. I harness my emotions, trip over my thoughts in motion, endless monitoring and planning to do the simplest of things. Yet I do not hate my autism any more than I champion it. It simply "is what it is" as my Mom so often says. I don't think I can make it into something political like so many others do. Does that make me a traitor to others like wise affected? I hope not. My hope is that everyone see the person beneath for their soul’s mind. It is a hope for all not just the autistic. Reading my heart is far more important than my outward appearance. I send you wishes for peace today. For today it is enough.