nuff said

Realizing that I'm autistic has been traumatizing. It's just a word, in terms of its capacity to communicate information. It represents different things to different people. 

In specific terms of where I am on the spectrum, it represents all sorts of things I thought were hurdles that I inexplicably couldn't get over. In my head, I'd overcome eventually. One day I'd be a functional grown up, who could hold a job, afford a place to live and a car. I'd have a social life and a girlfriend.

I hate when people doubt why these things matter. It makes me defensive. How absurd to be miserable about things that don't actually matter, but these are just the basic underpinnings of good mental health in modern society. It is not delusion to understand the need for material security and independence, emotional bonds and experiences with other human beings we enjoy being around. 

It is not delusion to understand how and why our capacities for these things matter to other people. Nor is it delusion to see how other people's opinions of us can have substantial consequences. 

Being autistic is more like cerebral palsy or downs syndrome than depression or anxiety. Less overt or outwardly obvious, but we are not seen as peers, especially if we don't work or drive. Even more so if we don't do much of anything because shifting gears is so hard and we can't focus on anything outside the scope of whatever it is we're focused on. 

I'm not bad at social interaction because I have anxiety. I have anxiety because I am fundamentally and inherently bad at social interaction. In those times when I seem to be doing ok at it, just understand that it's taking a lot of effort. I've gotten better at it over the years, but it rarely comes naturally. 

To a greater extent than I'd realized, this is just the way I am. Autism is not a mental illness. It is not something people are afflicted with, overcome or even get treated. You can treat symptoms like depression and anxiety, as with anyone else, but you don't really treat autism, let alone cure it. 

It explains a whole lot about my life, while making me realize, I am never going to be a normal society navigating functional adult. I've made some progress, I've grown, I've learned tactics to manage, but I'm no less autistic and never will be.

This was the crisis I was going through, before having my life taken from me. When I needed support and stability to navigate this in a positive way, I was cast out like trash, my whole life upended. I'm grateful for the support I received in Philly. The problem was that it was in Philly.

I completely fell apart in Philly. I didn't know what I was going to do or where I'd be able to live. I am doing better now, but I am seriously damaged. My entire trajectory nosedived, and even as I recover some of it, it can't ever be what it was. I can't be who I was. I can't go where he was going. I'm doing what I can. I have ambitions again, my life has some direction, even if not what it was before.

Stumbling through roadblock after roadblock, and well, I'm 50 now. My trajectory is what it was. I'm pretty much done.