The, “Lydia, you need to post now,” is poking at me. Poke, poke, poke. Feel it? I hate that.
It’s not that I don’t have anything going on. I mean, I’m helping out at church summer camp all week. There are all sorts of staff issues that I don’t feel like getting into. Oh, and I won’t have a computer for up to a month, as it needs to be repaired before I hurt it, or myself, or both of us. Can’t type a whole sentence without the cursor jumping, opening different windows, or deleted your text never to be found again. It’s got to stop. One more thing: I need a wisdom tooth out, and it’s pretty sore at this point, but they can’t do it for a month or so. Ugh.
Anyway, the big thing on my mind is some rules. What kinds of rules, you ask? Well…
Firstly, only my doctor and my therapist get to label me. Nobody else. This includes functioning labels (a kind-of-maybe-not-entirely-convinced-they’re-necessary evil, if you ask me). You don’t get to decide that I must be ultra-HF just because I can type or speak (and the speaking comes and goes). You don’t get to decide that I’m not REALLY autistic. You don’t get to decide that I “should” be able to do XYZ, just because you think I can. Sorry, folks. Not for you to decide. Chances are if you’re reading this, you already know that… but some people, most people who work with me DON’T know that. Too bad they can’t read my blog (and by “can’t” I mean I won’t allow them to, because this is MY space to express MY thoughts about whatever I choose, and I don’t need them invading my safe space).
Secondly, it’s not a compliment to tell me that I could be just like everybody else if I wanted to be, and that the only reason I’m different is because I choose to be. I fought like hell to be “normal,” and the fact is, I can’t be. I simply can’t. Try as I might have, I could not blend in, and I think that sometimes the harder I tried, the more I stood out. I have found MY happy medium, and I’m happy… until people start telling me I’m not living up to my potential, that is. Then I’m not happy; in fact, I feel rather invalidated. (Hey staff, how’s THAT for a feelings word? To bad words like that don’t come out of my mouth… I wish I knew why they won’t.)
Oh, there’s goes my attention span. Vent over, I guess. Off to write a different post now.