Snakes, Snails, and Puppy-dog Tails

Just me sharing my stream of consciousness with anyone who wants to read it. 🥰

[lionheartslowstart]

Wedding planning is it fun

It has been extremely fun! It's been pretty chill lately though. We've planned mostly everything in broad-strokes. But there isn't a whole lot more we can do until the wedding is closer. We're actually finally getting our engagement photos done very soon, so that's what we've been focused on. Thank you for asking!

[lionheartslowstart]

Advice for handling pushy relatives about family planning?

Give them weird, gross answers lol. Make them feel uncomfortable for asking.

[lionheartslowstart]

Is it ok to go thru a partners phone

No.

[lionheartslowstart]

Advice for establishing trust in a relationship dynamic where one party admittedly has a lying problem due to past trauma/relaitonships?

You're asking the wrong person. After all of my relationship experience, I would say leave. In my personal experience, compulsive liars don't change. To put it in more eloquent terms, however: You can't build trust on a shaky foundation. If you're entering into a relationship not trusting someone, knowing they are capable of misleading you, that's not a solid foundation for building trust.

[lionheartslowstart]

Can tumblr be a way to work for money

I doubt it lol

[lionheartslowstart]

Getting Comfy

Hello everyone! It's been a while since I've written anything here. Life has been keeping me occupied. But I had a realization the other day that I wanted to share, and I thought it would be the perfect first blog post of 2026.

These last few months, I would say starting around October, I've begun feeling different. It's as if I have more awareness in my body. Like, before I was just sort of floating through a fog, not present or mindful, and not even really caring where I was or what I was doing. But around mid-October, it was like - BOOM - suddenly I was completely inside myself, everything around me and inside me was coming into sharper, clearer focus. It's going to sound silly, but the best comparison I can make is what it's like to become a vampire in the Twilight universe. Colors are richer and more pigmented. I can feel the wind lightly brushing my skin as I walk. Everything sounds a little bit like music. I feel like music.

I was pondering this the other day, and it hit me. Yes, I still have days where I look in the mirror and frown. Things I'm self-conscious of. Things about myself I wish I could change. Moments where I feel disgusting or unattractive. But overall, honestly?

For the first time in my entire 32 years on this earth, I am comfortable in my own body.

I know. Crazy concept. It's so surreal. A feeling I could have never imagined even in my wildest dreams. Yet, here I am.

And now, I AM present. I AM mindful.

For the first time ever, I feel like an actual person, and not a ghost.

At first maybe that sounds depressing. And it was. But it's not depressing anymore because I did finally find myself. Sure, it took a long time, certainly longer than I would have liked, but I'm willing to bet there are sadly a lot of people out there who never find themselves, and who feel like ghosts their whole lives.

It may seem vain when you realize that this momentous occasion came after weight loss surgery and a breast lift. But I can assure you, vanity has nothing to do with it. (That's not to say I'm not vain, only that my vanity is not the cause of me suddenly inahbiting my own body.)

When I brought this is experience up to my mother, only the second person I had shared it with, she said something that I had not thought about before. She suggested that maybe it was because the way my body was shaped for the last 12 years or so was not how my body was MEANT to look. Before college, I was very thin. Broad, but thin. Then the hypothyroid kicked in and I gained sixty pounds in the span of two months. The following decade was just medical issue after medical issue, trauma after trauma, all compounding on that original sin, so to speak, and making it simply impossible for me to lose weight. So after having the gastric sleeve, my body returned to it's natural shape. Broad shoulders and a broad ribcage, a naturally muscular build, but otherwise slender. A narrow "V", if you will. Plus, after the lift, my chest is now pretty much the size it was before all the weight gain. (Maybe a LITTLE bigger unfortunately, but what can you do.) I've had a number of people tell me I look just like I did in high school. And that's partially true. I wouldn't say I look JUST like I did in high school. But I would say I look like what I SHOULD have looked like if I had just kept aging without gaining over a hundred pounds in the interim.

These two surgeries were not cosmetic for me. They brought ME back. Ninety nine percent of the time, when I look in the mirror, I smile. Sometimes, I even laugh! I recognize this person. I recognize the way they look. I recognize the way they feel. And most importantly, I recognize the way they love themselves. I can't believe I finally get to say this, but here it is:

I'm so happy to be me.

[lionheartslowstart]

Engaged!

On Sunday, July 13th, 2025, the most magical moment of my life occurred: "Thomas" proposed.

It wasn't anything fancy. He took me on a little walk to a little waterfall where we sat on a little bench. He proceeded to give me THE long, romantic speech. You know, the one about how I'm the only one he wants forever, how incredible and amazing I am, I changed his life, I made him a better man...it was beautiful. He was misty-eyed the entire time. Then he got down on one knee and asked the question (with excellent proposal posture, I might add).

At first, I couldn't get the word out. Not because I didn't want to say it, but because I knew that once I did say it, the moment would be over, and I wanted it to last forever. He waited patiently while I beamed at him for an eternity until I finally squealed, "YES" and jumped on him. He twirled me around and we couldn't stop kissing. Even though I knew the question was coming, it was more magical than I ever could have imagined.

I say I knew it was coming because it's something Thomas and I have been talking about for the last year. We knew we wanted to get married, but we also wanted to map it all out. This is partially due to the fact that I am an extremely Type A person, and partially due to the fact that Thomas is very frugal. We talked about what kinds of things we would want for our wedding. We designed the ring and picked the stone together. (Though I did not go with Thomas to pick up the finished ring. I told him I didn't want to see it until he was down on one knee.) We even toured our first choice venue and ended up booking a date. Yes, before he had even technically proposed! I did actually tease Thomas more than once with, "We're basically engaged already." And every time he would respond with, "It isn't official until I'm down on one knee."

At the end of the day, despite being two very pragmatic people, we are both also hopeless romantics. And I gotta tell you, even though it was planned, even though we had talked about it for months, even though we had a frickin' date and venue already, it wasn't really REAL until he proposed. After the ring was actually on my finger, I FELT like a fiancé, whereas beforehand it all seemed so intellectual. The bottom line is that Thomas and I agreed that an "official" proposal was something that was important to both of us. It didn't need to be perfect or fancy. It just needed to be genuine and intimate.

Ever since that moment, Thomas and I can't stop smiling at each other. When he comes home from work, he always takes a moment after he hugs and kisses me to stare at the ring, then smile at me and say "I'm going to marry you." We randomly yell "fiancé" and "we're engaged" around the house. It's all very cringe and sweet.

I always knew I wanted to get married. But when I tried to imagine my wedding, it was hazy, abstract, and far away. Now when I think about my future wedding, it's clear, concrete, and above all, it feels inevitable, like it's just around the corner. It's real.

Thomas and I are already moving forward with planning, despite the fact that the wedding is two years from now. We're just so excited! So far, it's been a lot of fun.

I'm so excited that I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend.

[lionheartslowstart]

Before

I was afraid this day would never come.

When the grass is greener on my side of the fence

The lilac sky (it's pronounced li-lack by the way)

Shimmers in purples, pinks, and greens

Every morning I wake up, melancholy you are not next to me

Melancholy is not something I feel when we are together

Not anymore

You feel brand new, yet

I recognize this man in front of me

Firm yet tender hands that grip my cheeks

I melt into your touch as you gently scold me

"Say two positive things about yourself"

The fake growl when I refuse to comply

I am secure in you

Sheltered from the storm outside

I eagerly await you,

Listen for that key jangle

Pounce on you when you come through the door

Sixty pounds lighter, you can finally pick me up

My legs curl around you as we laugh and

You kiss me

I melt into you

Yes, I know I said that already but

That's how it is

I feel like I'm constantly melting

My shields, my guards, my walls

Trickling away in your warmth

Only for you, who has the key to my heart

We went ring shopping the other day

Bouncing around the store, talking a mile a minute

My mother's friend laughed while you beamed

Your voice echoing in my ears

"By the end of the summer"

I've never been so excited for the future

You somehow ground me yet lift me to the sky

My head in the clouds, feet pressing into the earth

You've changed me for the better

Tell me I've made you a better man as well

I can see the difference

Exercised your heart like a bicep

Pumping iron through your veins

So you can breathe me in afresh

We look back and see how far we've come

Sure, there are scars that may never fade but

It finally feels like before.

[lionheartslowstart]

What would your advice be to someone who can’t understand how they could be a great partner to someone, who would have done almost anything for them but their partner kind of just discarded them and didn’t even try?

Feel your feelings, process your emotions, and do your best to move on. Someone like that clearly did not care about you as much as you cared about them. No matter what you could have done, they just didn't feel the same about you. Remember, a relationship isn't about what you can DO for someone. It's about YOU as a person. And no matter what you do for someone, if they don't feel that way about you, sadly there's nothing you can do. You deserve to be with someone who loves you for you, and who you don't feel like you have to do things for to keep them around.

[lionheartslowstart]

Both honestly mainly emotional

If you have a decent relationship, communication is key. Make sure you're on the same page about the when and the who, if you plan on bringing someone with you. If you don't have a decent relationship, still don't be afraid to take your time. This could be your only opportunity to get your things.

If you can, bring a friend for emotional support. And if something does happen, even just a fight, you have a witness. Though, it is far less likely something bad will happen if there's someone with you. People are more afraid to be embarrassed than we often realized. Even in front of people they don't like. Maybe even especially in front of people they don't like.

Bringing someone with you will also help you gather your things faster and cover more ground more thoroughly. Plus, you'll have someone to comfort you afterwards.

Also, keep your mind focused on the task at hand. Maybe even make a list of things you know you left there so you know exactly what to look for. Listen to music you enjoy to help distract you. (NOT sad songs or songs that remind you of the relationship!)

When you leave, let yourself feel your feelings. Processing the end of an intense relationship fully can take a long time, regardless of how long the relationship itself was. If you don't allow yourself to confront those feelings, it will take even longer. But wait to let those feelings flow until after you leave. You don't want to make being in each other's presence more difficult. For you or for them.

[lionheartslowstart]

Tips for initiating meeting up with an ex to exchange items (no safety concerns involved)?

What kind of tips are you looking for? Emotional or physical?

[lionheartslowstart]

Same Currency

Butterfly wings open and close

Seeming slow motion

Trying to blink away the visions

Yet with every lash flutter --

Each eye is a chrysalis

Waiting to be transformed

Molt the rough skin away

Become beautiful and new

Again.

Clock ticks

Forward or back

It is hard to say

Melting like Dali

Swimming in the soup

Of the remainder.

Timeless river rapids

A never-ending stream

Drowning but I

Can't stop breathing

The bitter wet suffocates

Hyperventilating but

It's almost like I don't want it out

With each exhale my lungs

Crave it more, suck it back in

As if lifeblood.

Boiling blood

Prickling, itching skin

It's too hot in here

Chrysalis closes again

My last desperate cling to sanity

Sweat dripping off furrowed brows

Can you overheat from pain?

Overwhelming fever,

I'm set alight

An orange aura takes my body

The fire burns

I can't get enough.

[lionheartslowstart]

Gastric Sleeve

About three weeks ago I had most of my stomach removed, otherwise known as gastric sleeve surgery.

I have struggled with my weight my entire life. I've gained and lost many times over, and my Hashimoto's diagnosis at 19 did not help this at all. I have gotten liposuction a number of times, but no matter what, I always gained the weight back. I finally got to a point where I wasn't gaining anymore weight, but I wasn't losing any either. My endocrinologist suggested we test for diabetes, and we found a strange result. I do have very high insulin, BUT, my blood sugar is on the extremely low end of normal. Ergo, no diabetes. Instead, I was diagnosed with insulin resistance disorder. In laymen's terms, when you have high insulin, it's almost impossible to lose weight. Problem is, you can't lower your insulin if you don't lose weight...See the problem?

Since I do not have diabetes, my insurance would not cover Ozempic or Wegovy or any of those types of medications. My endocrinologist informed me that, unfortunately, the next step would be bariatric surgery. No in-between. In the meantime she prescribed me a medication to lower my insulin, but she strongly advised me to talk with my primary care physician about the pros and cons bariatric surgery.

So after doing some of my own research, I made an appointment with my PCP, and he immediately jumped on the bandwagon. He told me he thought it was a great idea given my history (I've literally been seeing this doctor since I was 18). We settled on the gastric sleeve, and got the ball rolling immediately.

Preparing for the surgery was quite an intensive process. I will try to keep it brief. Obviously, I had to meet with the surgeon and his assistant. I also had to get bloodwork done, as well as pulmonary function testing. On the mental health side, I needed a note from my therapist with an assurance that I was mentally healthy enough for the procedure. But most importantly, I was required to see the hospital dietician for 6 months. While I did go into this process assuming I would be able to just walk in and walk out with a brand new stomach, I was actually pleased and relieved to find out this was mandatory. After all, this is a one time surgery. You can't get the gastric sleeve twice!

My dietician helped me find great substitutions for foods I liked, and encouraged me try new foods. She helped me game plan ways to curb unhealthy habits, as well as start newer, healthier ones. Plus, she's an absolutely fabulous person and I adore her. I was able to lose 10 lbs on my own in the first three months. Unfortunately, I did more or less plateau after that, re-gaining and re-losing that weight over the remaining months. Discouraging to be sure, but at least it further proved the surgery was necessary.

Finally, surgery time. And that was three weeks ago.

The first two weeks were ROUGH. I was only permitted to consume liquids. Yes, you read that correctly. For TWO WEEKS I subsisted solely on Smart Water, Powerade Zero, various types of broth, sugar free jello, and sugar free popsicles. That was it. That was my life for two weeks. It was utter agony. On the upside, I lost 22 pounds just in those first two weeks alone! That's 11 pounds each week. A little more than a pound and a half a day. Crazy.

Now I'm on Phase 2, otherwise known as the "Puree Phase." I was foolishly optimistic, but I won't lie, this phase sucks too. Only eating mush isn't much better than only drinking. My team told me it's because the body associates eating with chewing, and that I'll feel more like a person during Phase 3, the "Soft Food Phase." But in the meantime, I'm living off of low fat cottage cheese, lol fat ricotta cheese, low fat Greek yogurt, hummus, pureed beans, and baby food. Yeah, baby food. It's as gross as you think it is. I was told that I can add pureed chicken or turkey, but I haven't gotten around to that yet. It's been rough. But I am excited to discover that I like hummus now! My dietician and the head of nursing (who is basically my surgeon's right hand woman) told me that, in addition to the weight loss, this surgery would be a hard reset of my taste-buds. That means foods I've always loved may suddenly be utterly repulsive, and foods I never thought I would like, or even hated, may suddenly be appealing to me. I've discovered that with cottage cheese and hummus. Before the surgery, I hated both. But now I think they are so delicious! And that may change too! Apparently my tastes will continue to fluctuate as I heal. I'm a little sad that I may not enjoy certain tastes anymore, but I'm also viewing this as an exciting opportunity to expand my palette. I can't wait to see what foods I'll enjoy in the future!

I'm a little less than a week into Phase 2 and I'm losing about 1 pound a day. If that keeps going, I'll have lost about 35 pounds in the first month! I can't even begin to imagine. But who knows if I'll keep losing weight at that rate. It's already started to slow down a bit from Phase 1, so we'll see. Besides, I don't want to lose the weight too fast! I've already developed a bit of a...muffin top, let's call it, from dropping 22 pounds so quickly. While I'm thrilled to be losing the poundage, I have also become pretty self-conscious. I'm certain the loose skin will only continue to get worse. My team assured me that they will most likely be able to get the tummy tuck and any other skin surgery covered, because it is related to a covered weight loss surgery. But even so, I won't be eligible for it until at least a year after the gastric sleeve. Which really sucks, but I understand it's important to make sure my body has lost all of the weight, or at least the majority of it, before they start cutting off my skin. Therefore, I expect to be extremely self-conscious for at least a year, but it is what it is.

The important thing is that this procedure has vastly improved my health. Immediately after I was discharged from the hospital, I was told to come off my high blood pressure medication and my insulin medication. And thus far, there have been absolutely no adverse side effects. I saw my doctor last week and my blood pressure was completely normal. So far so good!

The thing I'm struggling with the most is my new appetite. Or rather, lack there of. I think I'm so hungry, but within five bites or so, I'm full. Then I feel hungry very quickly after, but I've realized it's all in my head. What I'm actually feeling is my body digesting. This led me to the conclusion that my brain associates me digesting food with hunger. As in, well that food is going through the system so now we need more to replace it. Absolutely wild. Not only that, but my body doesn't actually feel hunger anymore, period. There's a reason why I said "I think I'm so hungry." Part of the gastric sleeve is involves removing the area of the stomach that produces ghrelin, the hormone that induces hunger. I'm still battling with what my brain thinks is hunger, because my brain doesn't realize that anything has changed. It thinks my stomach is the exact same size it was, and it's used to me eating a certain amount of food. I've been assured that this will change over time, and my brain will eventually adapt to my new stomach. Apparently, within the next week or two, I will stop experiencing hunger altogether. I can't even begin to imagine.

Additionally, I have to wait 30 minutes between eating and drinking. That's been very difficult as well, especially since I'm used to eating and drinking at the same time. This also makes it much more difficult for me to get enough hydration during the day, but I'm doing my best. It's important that I stick with this habit though, because eating and drinking at the same time can cause intense heart-burn right after surgery! Even after recovery I need to be cautious, because drinking while you eat can cause you to digest faster, leading to more food intake and possible weight gain. I plan on developing a solid strategy with my dietician when I see her towards the end of my recovery.

The full recovery period is 6 weeks. After that, I hit Phase 4, aka, the rest of my life. I'm scared and excited for what the next few weeks hold. My body has literally changed, and my mind is catching up. I keep worrying about what's going to happen. Will I go back to my old eating habits? Will I ever be able to have pasta again? What about desserts? Maybe I won't even like desserts anymore! How drastically are my tastes going to change? But the fact is, I won't know until I get there. All I can do is live in this moment right now, continue focusing on my recovery, and just see where the road takes me.

[lionheartslowstart]

Landed?

Okay, I know I've said this before, but I think I've FINALLY figured out what my orientation is. One of my best friends told me she thinks I'm still just a very fickle abrosexual, which I totally acknowledge is still a possibility, but I'm pretty confident this time. If I end up going back on it in a few months, I'll accept that I am just a fickle abrosexual and move on. But it's been over six months since I've landed on this label, and it just feels right to me.

I am a biromantic lesbian.

After reflecting on my childhood, adolescence, and every romantic/physical relationship I've ever had, it makes complete sense.

I have come to the conclusion that, due to a combination of comp-het, as well as an obsession with being loved, I chased relationships with men from a very early age, because that was the Ultimate Goal. Even when I came out as bisexual in high school, it still didn't feel right. My first (cognizant) crush on a girl was VERY different than any "crush" I'd ever had on a boy, and that confused me.

Let's fast forward and examine my relationships. Whenever I dated a man, I missed women terribly. But when I dated women, men were the farthest thing from my mind. I didn't miss them at all.

I did still pursue men, a lot, and I am ashamed to say, I wasn't great at being faithful. But I have come to understand that the reason I pursued men wasn't because I was attracted to them. It was because I was insecure, and I craved validation and attention. (Though being with men usually ended up doing the opposite.)

When I think about my serious relationships with men, I realize I was never actually physically attracted to them. If I pursued them, it was because I found them to be objectively physically attractive, and so told myself I must be attracted to them. However, it wasn't until I developed romantic feelings for those men that I actually began to become attracted to them. But even then, I was physically attracted to them BECAUSE I loved them. When I fell out of love with them, the attraction stopped. Meanwhile, I am immediately, instinctively, undeniably attracted to women. It is a fact of life. There is no doubt in my mind that I am only physically attracted to women right off the bat.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Aren't you just describing demisexuality? And I suppose, yes, sort of, I guess? But I don't feel that label fits me. Because the difference between the type of physical attraction I feel to men vs. non-men is so stark to me. I maintain that I'm not physically attracted to men at all. But when I fall in love with one, I am attracted to HIM, and I find the beauty in his body. It's just not the same. I can't explain it, but it makes sense in my head.

This explains the polyamory as well. At least for me. I understand it isn't like this for every queer person, but it does explain it for me personally. Since I am only physically attracted to women/nonbinary people, I won't be happy if I'm only with a man. I wouldn't be able to maintain monogamy. My current partner understands that, and I'm so lucky that he is incredibly supportive, secure, and loving. He accepts me as I am. And of course, we do have ongoing conversations about this, just to make sure we're still on the same page. Communication is key in every kind of relationship.

Speaking of, my primary partner is a man. When I first started grappling with this, I was worried. Oh my god, am I a lesbian? Do I not love my boyfriend? Am I going to have to break up with him? Am I just with him for the familiarity? And I'm happy to say the answer is that, despite identifying as a lesbian, I am absolutely, deeply in love with my partner. Aside from the fact that he is my best friend, I have come to the conclusion that my feelings towards him are definitely romantic in nature. The way I feel about him is very different from how I feel about my friends. And upon reflection of my past het-passing relationships, it's clear to me that I did love some of those men as well.

This feels right. I think this is it. Biromantic lesbian. It just makes sense to me. If I change my mind I'll update again. But I don't think I will. It still somehow feels wrong, like, morally, to call myself gay even though I can be romantically attracted to men. But yes, it does feel like the most accurate and comfortable label for me.

Fluid agender, bisexual lesbian.

I like it.

[lionheartslowstart]

POA

Something happened recently that has caused me to confront the fact that I am truly disabled. It's not that I didn't know I was, of course I have since the autism diagnosis, but I really, and I mean really, got hit in the face with it.

I'll explain.

I can't go into too much detail regarding the actual circumstances, but the long and short of it is that I had to give my parents power of attorney in order to solve a housing issue. I trust parents completely and I know it's not something they would ever abuse. They made it clear to me that should I ever want to dissolve it, we could do that, and that the sole purpose for getting it was to avoid any houses issues now and in the future.

We had to go to a lawyer's office to sign the document and have it notarized. It was all very official. Afterwards, I drove home, sat on my bed, and just cried.

When I received the autism diagnosis, I was diagnosed with Level 1 autism. Autism is divided into 3 different levels. However, in my research, these levels seem to pertain strictly to social skills. In this way, yes, I am a Level 1 autistic. But if we're talking about "functionality," I'm not so sure I can qualify as Level 1 anymore. (Seriously, why IS it split by social ability? That's stupid.)

I'm 30 years old, and I'm still financially dependent on my parents. At this point in my life, I can't work a full time job. As a result, I will never be financially independent, and I will never be able to afford housing on my own. I say "at this point," because maybe one day that will change, but I doubt it. And for the record, I count myself lucky I can at least work a part time job, because 85% of autistics can't work at all.

Autism is a developmental disability, and I feel that as I'm getting older, it's become more obvious. Because I'm staying the same. I mean, obviously not completely the same. I've learned and grown and matured, and my friends who have known me for over a decade always comment on how much I've changed, but that's not what I mean. I mean that I feel like an adult and a child at the same time. I mean there are certain things I can't DO, certain things I can't retain or process, because my brain just won't let me. For example, I can't set up health insurance by myself. Every time my mom tries to explain it to me, my brain glazes over. That's the best way I can explain it. And I swear, I am trying SO hard to pay attention. I can't help it. My brain just...won't.

If this is what my life looks like when I'm 30, what is it going to look like when I'm 50? 60? 70? Not good. Not a good quality of life at all.

I'm so jealous of my friends and family. I don't understand how they do it. Even my other autistic friends are able to work full time or go to school full time without incident. (I did go to college full time but I almost ended myself like 3 times and I had to take a LOT of time off throughout.) It makes me feel guilty and bad. Like a loser. A failure. And yes, I know that autism can look different in everyone. I guess this is just one of the ways it affects me personally. But even so, it's painful to watch everyone around you be fully independent, and for whatever reason that's just not you. I mean, I'm independent in other ways. I can live by myself, make my own appointments, work part-time, and form meaningful relationships. I'm really trying to focus on those things instead, but it's been difficult to stay positive. I feel like financial independence is pretty major.

I want to interject here and say that I am insanely grateful to my parents. I know how blessed I am. They are my biggest supporters, both emotionally and financially. They love me so much, and if I didn't have them I'm certain I'd be homeless, probably long dead. I know that most people don't have parents like mine, let alone autistic people. I thank them all the time and tell them how guilty I feel and reassure them that I'm not lazy or spoiled, that I take their support very seriously. And they always assure me that they know, and not to worry about it, and they just want me to be happy.

But I do worry about it. My parents have wasted so much money on keeping me alive, it makes me physically ill. If I wasn't around, they'd have more money in their pockets for other things. They wouldn't have to worry about me all the time. I genuinely feel like they'd be better off without me, at least in the long run.

Like I said, the thoughts have been real dark lately, y'all. I've been extremely depressed since we instated the POA. This is my reality.

I don't know if my friends will still want to be friends with me in 10 years. Even my autistic friends. I don't like that I'll most likely never be financially independent. It is my greatest shame and I wish so badly it wasn't true.

People who insist autism is a fad and that people fake it for attention or whatever can eat my entire ass.

I would do anything, and I mean anything, to not be autistic.

[lionheartslowstart]

Phone Call

In my thirty years on this earth, I have never, not once, drunk dialed an ex. I've drunk dialed ex-friends, I've drunk dialed my parents, but never, and I mean NEVER, an ex.

Until about 3 weeks ago.

I don't want to get into too much detail regarding the events of that evening, because it's not the important part of the story. Suffice it to say that I had a VERY bad night. And the events of that horrible night led me to be in what I refer to as a spiritual crisis.

I also happened to be pretty intoxicated. I don't drink often, but when I do, I sometimes will go overboard. Especially if I get depressed. Again, I don't necessarily think the details of why I was so drunk are relevant, but it's important to know that I was drunker than I'd been in a good while. Drunk and depressed do not mix well, especially if you are in crisis - spiritual or otherwise.

I cannot tell you why, but I suddenly had the urge to call my ex, "Kevin." I know, crazy. I was actually in the middle of a conversation with my boyfriend, "Thomas," when I announced, "I'm going to call Kevin." Thomas got very concerned and said, "I don't think that's a good idea, Sophie." But I quickly replied, "Oh well, I'm doing it. I'll call you back. Bye!" And I hung up. (And yes, of course I told him all about it later.)

I knew instinctively that Kevin would answer the phone. Initially, I would have said he answered it simply because he's a narcissist, but after our conversation, I'm not so sure that's the only reason, or even the main reason. The fact is, if the roles were reversed, I would probably answer the phone, too. Does that mean I'm a narcissist? I sure hope not. I would have answered the phone not only because we had a very intense and deep relationship, as well as a lot of history, but we also had absolutely zero contact for 3 years and our mutual hatred for each other was never a secret, so I'd wonder why the fuck he was calling me. I'm willing to bet he felt the same.

What followed was by far the absolute weirdest interaction in my entire life, and it only lasted 4 minutes.

The first part of the conversation was just small talk. And even though I knew he would answer, I was still caught off guard when I heard his voice.

I was originally planning on transcribing the entire conversation (I remember more than one might imagine), but in retrospect, I've decided against it. The majority of the conversation itself isn't important, and I'd like to keep some things private. It was almost completely small talk, though I was still able to glean a decent amount of information about Kevin's mindset. (I also managed to slip in a small dig at him towards the end of the conversation, but whether or not he was aware it was meant to be an insult, I don't know.)

But there is one part of the conversation I do want to write about.

You see, I didn't know why I called Kevin at first. All I knew was that I had this sudden, random, intense urge to speak with him. And it wasn't until about halfway through this bizarre exchange that I suddenly understood what the reason was. I had something to ask him.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Did you ever really love me?"

I'm sure for him, the question came out of nowhere. But for me, this question had been bubbling up over the past three years, pressing against my skin, prickling and burning from the inside, with absolutely no relief.

With my first abuser, I knew in my heart he never loved me. It hurt, but I knew that it was true. I truly don't think he's capable of loving anyone. But Kevin...he may be a narcissist, and I do believe that wholeheartedly, but he's not a sociopath. And while his love is the love of a narcissist, he does still love people, in his own, broken way.

For years, even before we broke up, I was tormented by this idea that Kevin had, in fact, NEVER actually loved me at all, at least romantically. That he had only pursued me romantically because he knew it would hurt the woman he dated before me, the person he was really in love with.

I think, though I can't be sure, I called him in this moment of indescribable, inconsolable despair simply because I had nothing to lose. What was the worst thing that could happen? I couldn't possibly feel any lower. So I figured, fuck it, I might as well get an answer one way or the other, and then I can finally stop wondering.

He answered the question immediately, and with no hesitation whatsoever.

"Yeah dude, I loved the shit out of you."

And there it was. No scoff or sneer in his voice. Actually, it was the most genuine I had heard him be in a VERY long time. You see, for the whole conversation, both before and after this moment, Kevin was putting on what I call his "tough guy voice." Kevin has this voice he does when he wants to project an air of "I don't give a fuck about you." It's this big wall he puts up and pushes towards you to protect himself. I don't know if he's aware of how performative it comes across. The funny thing is that I do exactly the same thing, and I'm sure it comes across as just as performative when I do it.

But in that one moment, the tough guy voice fell away. I heard the tonal shift. A one, singular moment of vulnerability.

I was a bit taken aback, both by the momentary shift and by the answer, but I thanked him for answering my question, we wrapped up the conversation, said goodnight, and hung up.

I remember hanging up the phone at 3:26 in the morning and saying out loud and to no one in particular, "What the fuck just happened?"

The crazy thing is, I believe him. He has no reason to lie. If anything, telling me he never loved me would hurt me more, so he would have more reason to say that instead, whether it was true or not. Plus, there was something so sincere in his voice, and I can't look past that.

Is it possible he now feels like he has some sense of power over me? Probably. But I don't care. If anything, that phone call made me feel freer. Not just because I finally have an answer to that question, but because of what I discovered about myself during that short exchange.

While Kevin was putting emotional distance between us, I didn't have to. I wasn't particularly warm or friendly, but I wasn't cold either. I was nothing. I was distant and detached. Even the way I asked my question was matter-of-fact. I could have been asking him what the forecast was for the following day. Crazier still, I had literally just been sobbing uncontrollably and clutching myself. Yet, as soon as I made the choice to call him, it was as if all the emotion just drained out of my body. I was totally neutral. And not because I found the idea of speaking with him comforting or safe, but because he just doesn't have that kind of hold on my emotions anymore.

Maybe that's part of the reason he answered the phone. Maybe he expected me to be distraught and weepy, or that I would scream at him and demand he take accountability. But I didn't do either of those things. I didn't feel the need to, and I still don't. It feels like I shucked off some of the control he has had over me. If that's not growth I don't know what is.

Obviously, I'm still reflecting on the entire interaction, as well as my feelings about it, and I'm sure I have lots more to discover. Perhaps I will write about it some more. Perhaps not.

I don't know if Kevin will read into my call. He did know I was drunk, I told him that pretty early on, so probably not. Regardless, I am certain I'll never hear from him again, which is what I want. And I don't plan on reaching out to him ever again either. There would be no point. My feelings towards him haven't changed. I will never be able to forgive him or think positively of him after everything he did to both me and his other ex-girlfriend. He will never ever take any accountability for anything he did to either of us. He will never apologize or acknowledge how abusive he was. And that's fine. I don't think he'll ever change, and even if he does one day, it's none of my business.

Obviously I am not suddenly cured from the PTSD. I still have the flashbacks and nightmares. I still have so much anger and pain inside of me waiting to be processed. But I feel so much more grounded. Who knew that one answer to one question could bring me so much peace? Especially coming from the person who damaged me so completely? I never expected that.

I don't regret the call. Even if Kevin thinks he's "won" now, if he brags to his friends, if he thinks I'm weak, or whatever else, I don't care. I made that call for me, and I'm so glad I did. Even though I wasn't aware of it until that very moment, I needed the answer to that question. And not only did Kevin answer it, but he answered genuinely, vulnerably, and with no malice or anger in his voice.

While I do not forgive Kevin for it all, I don't like him, nor respect him, and I want absolutely nothing to do with him,

I am grateful that his last act towards me was a kind one. Who could have seen that coming?

[lionheartslowstart]

Coping Mechanism

The thing about trauma is you can't choose anything about it. You can't choose when you experience it, how it expresses itself, or when you get over it. You can't choose the severity, which can always change day to day, you can't choose what triggers it. There is nothing voluntary about trauma.

Everyone deals with tough emotions differently. Some people are conscious of their coping mechanisms, and others aren't. Personally, I wasn't always aware of mine, but over time and after a lot of therapy and personal reflection, I have become much more so. And how I deal with and process my trauma is through anger.

Anger is an easy emotion, at least for me. Not everyone feels that way, and that's okay. But after 25 years of constant disappointment, betrayal, despair, pain, and rejection, I have developed quite a deep well from which to draw.

Truthfully, I think after everything I've been through I have a right to be angry. Is it healthy? Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no. It depends on the situation and how much control I have over that anger. Sadness and fear are extremely difficult for me to experience, let alone process. I suspect the autism plays a role in that. I can be extremely susceptible to emotional overstimulation when it comes to these emotions. But filtering those feelings through anger helps. Especially as I am an external processor. Being angry (usually) allows me to be able to discuss things out loud, to myself or with another person, even in intense anger. Whereas when I'm experiencing deep sorrow, it often becomes too much for me to feel at once and I usually will experience autistic shutdown or an autistic meltdown as result.

But I also mentioned control. The problem comes when the anger gets out of hand and I lose control of myself. I would never be violent with someone, and I haven't been since I was a teenager. (And it was only after being continuously harassed after I told the person to leave me be.) I pride myself on being able to maintain a logical and reasonable argument, even when angry, even when yelling. But at a certain point there is a ceiling, so to speak, and that logic goes out the window. My expressions can devolve into personal attacks, stuttering, or even shrieking. (I can also sometimes get violent with myself, though this can occur with sadness and fear as well.)

Still, I prefer anger. Overall, it is a less painful emotion for me to deal with. I have more control over it in general, despite the few times I do lose it. It protects me. That's really what it comes down to - protection. If I'm being honest, I don't think I'd still be here if I processed my emotions a different way. The weight of everything I've been through would have dragged me down a long time ago. But if I can feed the flames, if I can be angry about it, I can stay afloat.

If I'm angry, I won't be thinking about the fact that I wasted almost my entire twenties with a man who made me feel unlovable and worthless. How someone I would have done absolutely anything for treated me like dirt on his shoe. Worse. It distracts me from the nightmares, the flashbacks, and the seemingly bottomless pit of sorrow that I have been coping with for the last several years, with no end in sight.

If I'm angry, I won't feel the ache in my chest where my goddaughter used to be. I won't think about her smile or the way she held my hand, the special song we sang together. Instead, I can think about the things her mother said and did that put me in that position. The emotional abuse she inflicted on me that gave me 6 hour long panic attacks (not an exaggeration). The way she used her own daughter as a pawn to manipulate and use me and keep me around until she felt like she didn't need me anymore.

If I'm angry, I won't think about the terror of having someone you once trusted have a psychotic break, relentlessly stalk you for a month, spread things you shared in confidence on the internet, try to ruin your relationships, and make horrible comments about how they wished you had killed yourself and they hope your mother dies (among other things). I won't think about the fact that adrenaline coursed through my veins quite literally every moment of every day that month, how I jumped every single time my phone buzzed, or the desperation I felt trying to figure out how to get her to stop.

If I'm angry, I won't feel the pain of having my trust broken by my parents and my boyfriend (different instances, not the same), three of the people I trust more than anyone else on the planet. I won't think about how our relationships may not ever fully recover, and how scary that is for me.

If I'm angry, I won't sit alone in the dark and think about every single rejection, every single time someone has decided they don't like me for reasons I don't understand and refuse to explain, the seemingly never ending isolation and ostracization no matter how much I try. I don't have to try and figure out why other people are allowed to treat me a certain way and it's fine, but God forbid I do the same, I'm a terrible person. I can just be mad about it instead.

And you may be thinking, "But Sophie, being so angry about all these things can't be helpful long term." Au contraire, it has done wonders for me!

Processing my pain through anger has helped me completely move on from a number of traumatic situations.

For many years I ranted and raved about my ex from 2013. How he was a sociopath and a compulsive liar. I was constantly venting about the things he said and did, how he ruined college for me, etc. But now? I don't care about him at all. I nothing him. Totally indifferent. If anything, I feel sorry for him. Not having empathy or nuanced emotions must be a lonely, boring existence. I don't wish him well or ill. I am absolutely certain I could pass him on the street and not experience any anxiety, sadness, or anger. That I would walk right past him with only the fleeting thought of, Huh, I guess this is where he's been.

Back in 2019, my best friend of 20 years and I had a terrible falling out. I felt betrayed by her in one of my most vulnerable moments. I won't get into details but it was quite gnarly and the entire fight lasted several months before I finally closed the door on that friendship. I was LIVID with her for four years. I couldn't even say her name. But I'm not angry anymore. I'm still not completely sure what happened, or why it happened, and I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive her or trust her, but the anger is gone. All that I feel for her is love. Afterall, we were best friends for two decades. Love like that doesn't just go away. And I know she feels the same. Every once in a while, one of us will text or call the other to ask for advice or give a major life update. When I found out I had had a stroke, she was the first person I called and we cried on the phone together. Friendship is off the table, but I have fully moved on from what happened and I only want her to have the best life she possibly can.

And these are just a couple of major events. Processing sadness via anger has actually helped me heal from a number of situations. Some of them took a long time, and some of them barely took any time at all. Some of them were life changing (like the examples above), and some of them were not quite as damaging.

All of this to say, not everyone processes their emotions or trauma the same way. Everyone is different. And what works for you may not work for someone else. Anger works for me. Maybe forgiveness works for someone else. Maybe sadness works for yet another person. I know people who are completely internal processors, who can't talk about what they're going through AT ALL until months after it's over. The bottom line is that this is what works for me, and so far it's only served my emotional well-being, at least in the long-term. Some trauma may take longer than others to heal, but at least I know I'll get through.