Month: June 2017

I can feel it physically: hear it, taste it, smell it, see it. Emotional overload is no different to me than sensory overload.

This is an utterly fabulous post, and something I hope to write about myself in the future. *applauds*

They never imagine, as they wax lyrical about being able to ‘fix’ this ‘imperfection’ in the ‘poor children’, that there is a big opinionated grown up adult autistic woman absorbing every word with a professional grimace.

Sometimes I want to cover myself in glitter and dance in your sunshine. And sometimes I want to throw my hands over my head and scream until you leave me alone.

I will sing along, I will woop, I will clap, I will beat the arms of my seat – so to be able to both watch and join in this experience, without fear of judgement or backlash, brought a tear to my eye.

I’m scared that, on Friday morning, I will have to talk people down from killing themselves. And I’m scared that I will fail to talk people down from killing themselves. 

If I die, take me home to my bed and hold my hand; cuddle me like you’ve always done, as if bringing me down from a meltdown.