attachments

The monotropic mind tends to dig deep grooves fixating on what it can. We don't handle change or adapt well, because we become so attached to the way things are, or if we get too lost in our own heads, the way things should be. It isn't just difficult in some nebulous sense of sweating and struggling, but wounding and extraordinarily painful, losing everything I've been fighting to get used to.

Some in the autistic community will say that we are not disabled, just different, trying to function in a world designed by and for neurotypicals. I think what they're missing is that neurotypicals are all kinds of different from one another but they're also much better at adapting to whatever life demands. The inability to adapt is the problem. It's not a matter of being different. It's disabling.

As I struggle to get from one day to the next, I cling to what I can. I become attached. Then life goes and rips it all apart, and it hurts like hell. I've been through so much here in Philly. It wasn't what I'd wanted or chosen, and pushed me well beyond my comfort zone, but now that it's all being swept away, I can't help but mourn. 

I lived almost a year of my life here, with my kind landlady who referred to herself as more of a roommate. I saw my aunt all the time, who I hadn't prior seen in years. I met people at these different gyms and at vegan food swaps. I earned honest money pet sitting, house sitting, and even some chicken sitting. I got to know lots of people and their pets. I wandered all over Germantown and Mt Airy, with the occasional trip to center city. I'm going to miss H-Mart. I'm going to miss all of it, all gone in a moment. Again and a-fucking-gain.

I have an apartment in Burlington now. I'm leaving Philly tomorrow. I get to try to reconnect with my old life. I don't know how that will go. I don't know how much ground I've lost or gained, physically and mentally. I feel very damaged. In addition to grieving for everyone and everything I'm saying goodbye to, I'm full of fears about what traumas my new life will bring, as once more, I'm thrust into the unknown.

People ask me if I'm excited to be going back to Vermont. I've been here a long time. I don't know what I'm going back to anymore. Maybe things will go well. It's theoretically possible. I can't stop crying, but I'm no longer suicidal, and that's no small thing.