I feel very
not of this world
It’s a heavy truth of a boulder to roll
but I know
that love has found a way
that love has found a way
to those few flyers flying with me
the angels of precedent
the rock stars of the heavy vision
I am made glad and whole
by your lights
The abyss is illuminated
and not as empty
because of our together
Our sparse band of children
playing while the others wail
the gnashers and the doomed
we swing and dance
Love has found a way
Love has found its way
Oh thank you thank you thank you to
my others of
I feel very
I’m going through a bit of an existential crisis lately. I’m switching back to the tech industry; I broke up with my partner; and a couple weeks ago I found out that I have a mild case of Asperger’s Syndrome. That last thing is probably the most confusing thing to digest. It makes perfect sense honestly. I was always a loner in school. I’ve always been insanely reactive to noises. I started having meltdowns when I was 16. I excel at math and music. I’ve worked as an engineer, where half of the people might be on the spectrum. I’ve always been an insomniac. I found it nearly impossible to make friends until my mid-thirties. There’s more, a lot more.
Learning that I was born with my social difficulties has allowed me to realize that my weirdness is OK. I get overwhelmed by the world a lot, and I never really had an answer to why this is. I’ve been this way since I was little, so there is also a lot of trauma and rejection piled on top of my difficulty with people. Then I developed fibromyalgia as a response to constantly being overwhelmed and unable to form social bonds. And of course I was also way more femme than the other boys.
But a label is really just a label or a bucket that separates people as “other.” It can be helpful in some ways, but also limiting in other ways. I have learned how to live in a world that is not designed for me. I have learned how to mask myself by mimicking other people, and this is something that everyone does to varying degrees. Where my natural inclination is to talk about deep subjects, most people just want to do small talk.
But it hurts to think that maybe my relationships might have turned out better if I wasn’t so cold at times. I really do crave social interaction, but I also get overwhelmed, and it can be a lot of work to maintain relationships when you need so much alone time to recharge.
So I’m trying to figure out how to be myself with this new knowledge. I’ve ALWAYS felt strange. I used to think that I must be some sort of robot for not feeling my emotions like other people felt theirs. It’s a supremely odd thing to get some new knowledge that completely changes one’s entire personal history and personal narrative. And I know a common reaction to this will be “you don’t seem autistic!” That’s because I’ve worked very, very hard at developing behaviors that others take for granted. I’ve had to shoulder this load in silence, alone, and it’s been extremely exhausting.
I know because I don’t have skills in certain areas, I have talents in other areas, like writing and music. But right now I feel somewhat lost. I know I’ll find my footing again. I’m not these labels. I am a magical mermaid artist, lover, dreamer, creator, and fool who can make people laugh. I suppose it feels like a certain part of my brain is on overdrive, and so I have had to learn how to deal with this without spinning off the rails.
I’m figuring it out, but it’s been a slog. At least now I have an explanation of sorts for the root of my “issues.” And honestly for someone with high functioning Autism, I’m doing really well. I’m working full time; I’m getting my Master’s; and I’m a performing musician. But sometimes I get overwhelmed and turn into a social recluse to cope. It’s tiring, but I’m making my way through the fog with a little help from friends, family, and lovers. I wasn’t really born with the ability to maintain those relationships but I’ve learned how over the decades. And I’ll keep on learning.