What I am about to say makes all the sense in the world to me, but I’m not sure how it will come across. I shall try. Bear with me, though, eh?
I read a thread on a forum recently, or actually, I think I just saw the title, scoffed, and moved on, that pondered whether autism was a higher state of consciousness than… typicalism? Ridiculous, right?
But hey, hold up a second and let’s think about that.
You see, the more “autistic” I seem, the more in touch with my Creator (and therefore my true self) I am. The last handful of posts have been written during times when I was far out of touch with the physical world while being much more in touch with the spiritual one. I think for the last four or so, I’ve been nonverbal at the time of writing. The writing explodes (not flows, but truly bursts) out of me.
But today, I have little of that. I got a later start than usual and didn’t get to Mom’s till after noon. We ran some errands (during which I acquired the two Harry Potter books missing from my collection), painted my board (Sister brought me dry erase paint!), and went to church. I mostly stayed in the room during church, I sang some, I saw lights and heard sounds, and I talked to a woman afterward. A very typical day, no?
But it’s a bit sad, too… lifeless, I would say. The technocolor in which I have grown accustomed to seeing my world, in which one feels lights and sees sounds and whatnot, has been reduced to black and white today. “But you could speak! But you didn’t melt! But you were so much ‘higher functioning!'” Yes, yes, and yes. It wasn’t all bad, and the big things were actually easier, but it was also rather boring in the little things that make up a day.
All this to say, I talked to a lady after church, which is often not possible for me after a long day that ends in a church service. We probably talked for five minutes, which is a long conversation for me.
Anyway, this member of our church works at the headquarters for a local thrift shop chain, and her job is to work with people on the spectrum to place them in jobs in the stores. At the bottom of my hill (the driveway to the apartments), across the street, there happens to be one of the stores. I often walk down and neb around, and even in the winter it wouldn’t be a bad walk at all. It’s maybe a quarter of a mile down the hill.
So, Mom said, “You know, if you had a job coach with you the entire time, and only one day a week…” She has a very good point. I think I could do it. Unlike previous work experiences, I don’t feel shoved into this one either, pushed into the water without knowing how to swim. I would have someone with me at all times. I would be away from the public, sorting and tagging stock in the back room.
I’m going to walk down on Monday and pick up an application, and Mom’s going to mention to my service coordinator about finding a job coach.
It’s a very funny feeling… this feeling ready.