My shell…

So I undertook an almost eight year experiment at being a people (as opposed to being an Autistic person who had been discouraged at just about every turn in being one, and as such felt the need to hide in a shell in a hole in a tunnel under dark clouds). So maybe I can abandon a few of those layers of protection – ‘cause I’m braver now – but that isn’t really because my experiment was particularly successful.
I found out that I’m still particularly bad at understanding people, and they’re still particularly bad at understanding me. I also found out that in general people aren’t as good as I wanted to believe they are. But maybe also came to realize that I myself am perhaps better than I gave myself credit for.
Sadly for me, however, is that – though somewhat disillusioned – I still seem to adore people. And in that, loving them and building friendships with them is something that I wish I’d had more success at. But I’m fresh out of ideas. Understanding seems just as far away as it did seven years ago.
I had this glorious wish that just being loving would be good enough, even if it was delivered in a manner that apparently most people find ridiculous. I wanted to prove that love could win. I also wanted to find that little place where a ridiculously not normal Autistic lady might fit, and perhaps in the process win a little acceptance and understanding for Autistics and others, who perhaps also ridiculously not normal, could be seen for what they are good at… being truthful, transparent and loving, even if overly much of all of those.
But I’m tired now. This last year was a hard year. There was too much that assaulted my psyche, and not enough to bolster it. So maybe at least the shell awaits me. If anybody wants to find me there, just knock.