Another year. Another year avoiding FB. It feels like hiding 😶🌫️ It maybe 🤔 un-admitted shame of not doing enough but just venting.
If you are reading this, I choose to share with you.
But I didn’t. I choose to share with void. With someone who just simply stumbles accidentally because of tags 🏷️, or g-d knows what else .
Today I no longer can separate acceptance from giving up. But I don’t want to leave room for any misinterpretations on what “giving up” means here. It is damn hard to explain it on paper with clarity when you’re out of practice. And yes - I don’t want silent 🤫 judgement or words of encouragement. So I’m back here, in my safe place, on tumblr.
I always hold high hopes that for M to succeed just enough awareness and acceptance needs to be in place with a slight addition of support; far from what he is getting at school. That I can’t give up.
Self-talk anywhere and everywhere for no reason and to self-soothe
No attempts to make friends or to keep the ones who reach out
* Recording subway 🚇 tunnels
* Watching 2hr long videos of subway tunnels
* K-5 level cartoons
* RTVi along but resistance to learn Russian
* Talking pretend Russian to people who don’t speak 🗣️ a word of the language
* Visits to Times sq to record trailers available on YouTube for months
I used to try to redirect or mask 😷 (big negative word in ASD community that seems to me extremely self-indulgent, coming from people who don’t deal with complexities of being adult on a lower end of the spectrum). I tried to tap into whatever inappropriate and give it a spin that would bring it closer into fitting into what in foreseeable future will be societal norms.
I accepted defeat and just let it be. Sometimes it backfires badly in public and otherwise; most of the times it’s ignored if noticed. Of course, I can’t ignore it. Sheer for the fact for needing to be alert 🚨 enough to step in when it hints danger ⚠️ levels or awkwardness overload. Like with the rest of this quirky and unpredictable life, the unpleasant reality became mundane and normal. Well… MY normal. I can’t ask anyone to subscribe to it because once in blue moon 🌖, I get a day of respite into the actual normalcy and it still hurts to return into the ASD routine. Not like a bleeding 🩸 hurt more like a paper 📄 scratch that takes annoyingly few days to heal.
I almost gave up on
* not having a conversation that hasn’t been played out gazillion times already
* having hard time between picking favorite, even when it is obvious (like picking cake 🍰 over sandwich 🥪)
* Mistaken pronouns (I am not MY mom but YOURS) and preposition (the cup NOT at the table; it is ON the table)
* And general silliness of your sentence structure and thought 💭 expression
* …
I started this post yesterday after a long day of brewing thoughts 💭 of what and where to write ✍️. It’s 5:30 am and M already woken up ⬆️ like he always does regardless whether it’s a school day or a weekend. I should’ve done soooo many things yesterday but I chose to write until I crashed into sleep 😴
it’s April 2. I write every year on Apr 2. It is silly as I don’t quite believe in traditions. But in a similar vein as I can’t forgo Christmas tree🎄for New Year, I can’t skip ⏭️ and not post today. On the eve of Apr 2 I’m reflecting more than any other day. Again I’m reflecting on acceptance: personal and general. Nobody forces me to write. And yet I hold some slight hope that this is something that someone needs / needed to read. Exactly as I wrote TODAY (which for all I know might not be even the day or month or year). I read so many encouraging posts and they helped. I read so many despot cries and they help. This one is neither. But, if you read thru the end and now feel a feather 🪶-bit lighter, I’m glad for both of us. Hugs 🫂