The horrible cough-and-cold mixture is the ultimate magnification of all the things that push those sensory overload buttons in my brain.
I trust you will share this with the others, as they need to see this as well. You were not the only one. Not by a long way.
I had a good day yesterday. I also had a meltdown in public yesterday. Holy oxymoron, Batman!
Do you ever feel like someone has dropped a box of bees in your brain?
I can feel it physically: hear it, taste it, smell it, see it. Emotional overload is no different to me than sensory overload.
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.
Autistic people should not have their inalienable right to diagnosis and support denied because their autism doesn't present itself in a way that fits into the correct boxes.
He is my beautiful, brave, loving, silly, pathetic, cowardly, loyal, protective, fabulous boy. Sometimes, I love him so much I could cry.
People were swelling with an outpouring of almost regimented grief that I felt cast to the side of; watching with a furrowed brow, scrunching up my face as I tried desperately to march in time, going red and tearful with frustration as I failed to keep step.