Living Autistically

One day at work, my coworkers and I were conversing when I haphazardly picked up an item and started to fiddle with it. It was an old single-hole hole punch. As I was squeezing it, a part of me imagined if one had ever been used to pierce ears before. While thinking that, one of my coworkers noticed what I was doing and said, “Stimming?”. I looked at her and then it hit me: I was subconsciously stimming, and I consciously couldn't think of a reason why. I know the motion of squeezing the hole punch felt natural, but to pinpoint an emotion or an event that led to my overstimulation, I haven’t a clue. I have noticed I’ve been overstimulated these past few days. I did have a moment where I just had to cry. I think I’m grieving for the future I had hoped for and will likely never come to fruition (unless I'm wrong, which I hope I am). I had so many plans, hopes, and dreams and yet, the entire world seems hellbent on destruction.

The pain people have now, and it doesn’t matter where they are in the world, physically hurts me. Even though I’m not an empath, I feel so deeply and am so in tune with myself and others that I get overstimulated by the worldwide pain. This isn’t something I can just “turn off” or ignore – I can try my hardest to ignore as I have been for about a week now with staying busy; but at some point, it catches up with me and then I have no choice except to cry it out. It’s not a woe-is-me cry, it’s genuine grief. With it being a season of holidays, I’m pushing myself to remember things I’m thankful for – which for me, that in it of itself can be overstimulating as I fight against my grief. Just writing this little bit, I’m overstimulated but I don’t care – I’m going to press on because that is what I do, just as advocacy is what I do.

I’ve been stimming a lot lately and finding a couple of new “eye sparkles” that help me focus on something I can control while there’s so many things that are swirling about. I talked about that in therapy recently because part of my overstimulation is rooted in feelings of emotional abandonment and emotional neglect from my father. Growing up, I learned to “protect” myself by controlling things around me – which is ironic because in reality, nobody can truly have total control over anything (including themselves). I now also understand controlling was, and sometimes still is, a form of stimming for me. In this chapter of my life, I’m learning how to recognize what I “can” control (like learning how to use gel nail polish and cat eye polish on my own nails, reorganizing my books, giving away clothes that don’t fit anymore, or speaking a strong emotion). All of that to say, I’m constantly pushing through my feelings and trying to find “eye sparkles” that help my subconscious work through any overstimulation.

I don’t know what I really wanted to write about; I was trying to keep it strictly on topic, but I don’t think that was going to happen because deep down, I had something else to say and I wouldn't know what it is if I didn't free write. I could feel the emotion swelling in the center of my body. I was unable to put a name to it, but I knew it was there and it was strong. It was literally trying to have vocalization and it was stuck because I didn't have the word for it yet.

*At this point, 30 minutes had passed as I had to step away*

I felt despair; that is at least part of this strong emotion that has been behind my overstimulation. I despair because humans have forgotten their humanity; because those who need a voice aren’t finding one and nobody is stepping up to speak for them; because abuse and fear are dominating; because I’ve spent the last few years remembering who I am only to see a future where I, once again, will likely have to bury a part of myself in order to stay afloat; because promises I once relied on I’ve come to realize didn’t mean what I was taught they meant; because I wasn’t taught how to work through fear - I was taught to let it take up residence. I’ve also learned I can despair and enjoy the good moments as they come – both can be true at the same time (which sucks, but it’s better than being wrapped up in despair).

My advocate heart is crying out for someone to stand in the gap for me and all I see is nothingness and all I hear is a heaviness that exists only in the deepest recesses of a cave. This is why, as part of my survival mode and how my brain views the world, actions matter more than words. Words can inspire fear and submission, but without an action to back them up, it’s only to keep someone in submission and silent. Words can also inspire hope and motivation, and again, without action to back them up, the greater the heart-wrenching agony.

So not seeing an advocate step up, that cuts me to the core and my brain literally doesn’t understand. I see patterns in actions and that’s the other side of my emotions – I don’t see a pattern to compare to and that sends me into an overstimulated tizzy to the point where loved ones are asking if I’m upset with them because I’ve been cranky. I learned to view the world on different levels and why I get so frustrated because even with people in public, the lack of kindness and compassion is appalling and the advocacy towards individuals is basically gone (unless I’m overlooking it).

Advocacy is one of my strongest “eye sparkles” and it has been since I was a child. It is one of the few constants in my life through all I’ve been through and seen. To see advocacy rejected day in and day out; to see it stomped on like grapes in the winemaking process; my entire being is in anguish. I cling to those who do still advocate and still show kindness because being around them helps my brain re-center and it assists in easing my overstimulation. I hate being overstimulated; it's utterly EXHAUSTING. All I want to do is to sleep this off so I can recoup. Contrary to what this sounds like, I’m not depressed – I’m mourning what has been lost, what I have seen people willingly give away.

Being the best version of myself is another “eye sparkle” and one I strive after each day, so I don’t give away my humanity; so I’m able to show kindness to a customer who has been rude to me before because it’s fundamentally who I am. I refuse to give away who I am; I did once before for nearly two decades and I don’t ever want to do it again. I love my autistic brain – I see some things more clearly and faster than others and that’s when I say, “I hate it when I’m right.” I don’t want to be right; I don’t want to make sense of these patterns my brain sees. I want to be full of joy and be bubbly – but that’s not how my brain was designed. I accept that part of my brain, that part of who I fundamentally am. I accept how my spectrum of autism informs me in ways I didn’t think possible (and ways I sometimes don't want); how it sometimes pushes me to learn a new skill (albeit, I typically don’t do it often enough to be more than mediocre); how it helps to keep me kind; how it helps me keep my humanity in spite of the darkness.

Overstimulation sucks. It sucks for the person it’s directly happening to and it sucks for those around that person. It sucks to see something one values, that many used to value, to not be valued anymore – it can cause a person to question their own reality and their own identity. Remember who you are; remember your humanity; remember being autistic, even when it sucks, can be something to be thankful for; remember your “eye sparkles” – you had, and have, them for a reason; remember to be kind to yourself.

Most of all, remember that, and I’ll reference ‘Once Upon A Time’, just one speck of darkness in your heart makes it easier to walk that path; and on the flip side, one speck of light in your heart helps you have the courage to make the hard decisions that help that spread. Take note of your heart; for all things, good and bad, stem from that. I’m learning to accept that my spectrum of autism is part of why I’m so steadfast and refuse to give in to the darkness even though it would be so easy. I know my heart at times has had more darkness than it does not and I don't like who I was then (very few people liked me then). I don't give up so easily and neither should any of us who strive to accept how our brains were made and the life-long struggles we'll have (and not just with our brains). We are worth acceptance, from ourselves and those who SEE us and love us (and even those who don't SEE us). We are worth getting to know and advocating for. We are worth learning to advocate for others as well.

Apparently, my heart and my brain had something weighing deeply on them to the point where I would call this a hyper-fixation - I blame my amazing "eye sparkle". Until next time, and may we all remember what we're thankful for.