There’s too much to write about, to think about, to be worried about. And it can be so overwhelming that I end up unable to do anything.
I hate to burst anyone’s bubbles, but I do not speak for the Autistic community.
Sometimes, when I wake up at night and my dogs are lying around me, I have to reach out and check they are still breathing.
I wish I could tell him how he took an angry, lonely, confused little queer autistic girl, and gave her the tools she needed to survive.