#being misunderstood

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

'When I disclose I'm Autistic, it's not an excuse, It is a need to be understood...'

Neurodivergent_lou

[malistaires]

ivan the terrible and the wizard would be best friends actually

[usagi-best-boy]

I hate being misunderstood!

Hajime no Ippo

[andyisfluffy]

Trying to figure out if it is my social anxiety or my autism that is driving me into using unnecessary parentheses in maths

Like, it is literally unnecessary to use parentheses here, but it makes me SO uneasy to not use them

Like I am legit scared the calculator will misunderstand me and be mad lol

[a-fortunately-foul-tale]

God, I wish I never spoke now I gotta wash my mouth out with soap.

[postersbykeith]

[theprocast]

Forever lost fighting in this internal conflict, I have no ammunition left for you. So I won't put up a fight and you can think I am weak, But if only you knew all the destruction inside of me.

@creatingnikki

[ascoltus]

When You Keep Preparing for the Wrong Reaction

There is a particular tiredness in entering a conversation already prepared to be misunderstood. Before the other person has answered, you have softened the sentence, added the context, rehearsed the defence, and made room for a reaction that may not even come. It can look like thoughtfulness. You explain carefully. You anticipate confusion. You try not to sound demanding, dramatic, cold, needy, or ungrateful. But underneath the care is often an old calculation: if I say this badly, it will cost more than the feeling itself. The exhausting part is that you may be preparing for someone who is not actually in the room. A parent’s impatience, a former friend’s dismissal, a partner’s silence, a workplace where every need had to be justified. The present person asks a simple question, and your body answers from a longer history. This can make ordinary honesty feel strangely complicated. You are not only saying what you mean. You are also trying to protect it from every way it has been misheard before. By the time the words arrive, they may be accurate, but they no longer feel fully alive. Sometimes a gentle response can feel almost disorienting. Nothing breaks. No one punishes the truth. The room stays open. And still, some part of you remains braced, waiting for the delayed consequence, because safety can take longer to believe than danger. There is no need to scold yourself for that vigilance. It was likely learned for a reason. But it may be worth noticing the labour: how much of your energy goes into preparing for the wrong reaction, and how little space remains for simply discovering what this moment is. If there is something you have not found words for yet, you can begin quietly at Ascoltus: https://ascoltus.com