What is autism to me

“What does autism feel like?” An article I read this morning posed that question. From my perspective such a hard question. If you are going to read this – please read it ALL, because the bottom is as important as the top, and puts perspective on the whole thing. For me, as a sensory condition, autism has fought in my brain with so many other things that have plagued me, (as those who have autism know, autistics often are not healthy otherwise, and suffer a range of physical conditions) and just as among them, when asked by someone what my symptoms are, I can never quite know which might go with which affliction. But along with all that, there are the learning aspects of autism, where again, I never quite know if I don’t understand because I am incapable, or just that the brain fog from fibromyalgia, or the effects of a near-constant sinus headache, or migraine have gotten the better of me. But worst to me are the social aspects. Loneliness I don’t think will ever leave me, the lack of ability to understand people’s actions – “are they just busy, or do they not like me anymore” is a constant question poor David hears all the time. I’m usually pretty sure they don’t like me anymore, because I know that understanding me is work too. Whether that is really the autism, or just being haunted by the words of my mother telling me everyone hates me, I don’t know. I do know that I still wish to put those words forever behind me, I still wish to feel that love is something I can share and not just give. But despite all of that, I would never not be autistic (although if I could have been healthy, I’d take that). To me, a lot of what autism (awetism) means is that my life is spent in awe. I love the heck out of everyone and everything. Where I do hurt, I am also perpetually naive and hopeful. I get down, but then something is beautiful, or someone is nice, and I find all the love inside me and am filled with hope all over again. If you were to take all the pain, but require me to surrender all of the wonder and childlike hope and innocence, I would just choose to be who I am. Hurt and all. Just someday, I do hope to beat it down a bit, and let love just be all of who I am.

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