“Do I have to stand in the street naked to get my kids some help?!?”

Yes, I said that.  Yep. Sure did, at the end of an IEP meeting.  I know that I have thought it many times. I was so rattled by the conversation and the many others in the room, coming at me with questions and comments faster than I could process or respond (I lack what I refer to as REAL TIME RESPONSIVENESS) and being totally misunderstood the entire time, worried also about my son who was not feeling well and home sleeping during the meeting, that – YES, I said that. 

What was my neurodiverse Aspien brain trying to convey in that totally inappropriate comment? More than anyone in that room realized, and more than you are probably thinking at this moment.

On the offset, it does mean that I have gone every conventional route possible for year after year now and gotten nowhere, see that I am both out of options and exhausted as only an Autistic could be –  from putting forth a seemingly bottomless amount of effort and energies into working to get the right help so one little family can turn the corner and start doing life on solid ground again.

It is also a statement on my own self esteem (serious lack of it!) and self perception.  I am but an object.  If I have to abject myself as one to find a helpful end for us – well it is in the history.

With nearly every person that I have cared for deeply, in any regard, I have found myself betrayed – found that I was used for their end, or in some capacity to meet their needs, or to get something they needed.  A dominant pattern repeated throughout the decades.

As I am now learning, the depth of bonds that I form with these individuals, the depth of commitment, care and concern, the depth of authentic love – cannot be articulated exactly, is an aspie trait (particularly for women).  This bond is forged on a myriad of planes, and the loss always brings me to the depths of darkness.  There have been many such of these losses since our move, as I have reached out in desperation for any kind of tangible support so that I could be ‘Mom’ to my children.

The ‘why’s, what’s and how’s’ begin to bounce in my head, while there’s a fiery hot, searing pain taking over my heart and blanketing my spirit. I have to make sense of, understand the betrayal… understand why did I not understand what they intendedwhat did I do wrong, how can I fix work to fix things..

I beat myself up for being slow, too trusting and incapable of communicating effectively.  The communication, the ability to understand things that I do not.  The ability to grasp social and verbal cues – I have it but not in real time.  Maybe next week, or month, I will ‘get’ the joke, understand what was intended.

There does not exist any bond or  connection, or sense of safety or peace, or comfort from, any of those that are my biological ‘family’.   Never has been, with the exception of one, and she has long passed. I feel I have been the greatest disappointment ever to my parental units, and my brother hasn’t talked to me since my son was 7 months old.

Some that I have had connection to for years, I have reached out to over the course of these current circumstances unfolding, to get what was no more than lip service.  Now those folks just don’t bother – I am not one that people want to be around, I never have been. I am not one people want to include, invite to the party.  I am the one that is just here.  

That is honestly how I see myself, how I feel – and that I am here processing things totally alone – always – is evidence enough for me that I am here as a pawn to this screwy planet, and at the end of the day get to face the scary world, the darkness, alone.  

I do not have real life people any more. I cannot seem to make them either, and that I can say goes to the long term, endlessly devastating, betrayals over the course of this life. It’s been a series of bullying, being taken advantage of, beaten upon, wanted only for what I can do for someone with my mind or my body, betrayals of the mind and heart too many times…from being too trusting, too willing to want to help and the reason for that – because at the core I am still looking for some acceptance and inclusion on this planet.  To be worthy of love. But my Aspie gets in the way…. So I am perpetually alone, scared more than not. Depressed beyond words.

I do realize, the more I read, that I have #AuthenticallyAutistic traits to the extreme.  I do. I can’t lie, so I may as well just come out with it, right?

Given the total lack of community, support, family, lack of a partner, not having a trusted circle of friends, and the level of traits that I acknowledge in myself – I do not see the end of this with my children being some great success story.  I just don’t. Now, the negative, doomsday thinking – that is an aspie trait – but even in my logical mind, I don’t see this ‘working’ as so many think that it should. Single parents at this level of traits only succeed with a trusted circle of people around that love accept and help them. That’s the consensus.  That is missing here.

This gets lost in translation and is unrelatable so much that I have given up trying to convey what it has done to my soul.  So I say this: Loneliness is the number one silent killer. Humans are not meant to be islands all to themselves.

My level of communication and social fallacies…. And actual fear and distrust of people in general now from being misunderstood and then ignored for so long, has me not wanting to leave the house, not wanting to even go to the mailbox until after dark…. Add in my true inability to conquer normal daily tasks like a normal adult without a tremendous amount of energetic effort (spoons) followed by an exhaustion not explainable to the normal world at large (please do not ask me to go to the grocery store), that brings on massive anxiety…. How am I ever going to be able to be ‘good’ for my children in the day to day?  The odds, with my level of traits, are not good from what I read. This has me terrified.

There was a time, for a while, that I had that ‘person’ so I know how I function when there’s a hand holding my kite string.  First he was just a friend, that always seemed to understand me, or worked hard to understand me – and would hang, let me vent – help me to PROCESS and see things more clearly… calm the racquet balls!  He was my translator – he translated the world to me and me to the world. It was great, at the end of the day, to have someone I trusted, had ‘calm’ wash over me when in their presence, to go over things with – helped to let them go, helped to be able to sleep at night and not have the balls bouncing off the walls of the internal racket ball court.  So freaking loud!  Helped to stop the brain going 100% 24/7.

Turns out Aspie women attract cluster B personality types. We are too trusting, we are easy targets, and that person turned out to be sick on his own, a predator, a pedophile.

The more I sit with things now, the more I remember my 20’s.  When I had only my cats. I had to have them with me at college to cope, they went with me to California, to Birmingham, and all over.  Not friends. Not partners. Cats.

I don’t recall a lot of my 20’s, because the heaviness of being misunderstood, lost and alone then nearly crushed me, and I spent too much time drinking.  Too much time working to numb myself. Too much time acting wildly, doing things under the influence of alcohol that I could never conceive of sober, let alone have the courage to act upon – just trying to be accepted, to fit in and do as the other 20 somethings were doing, to matter to someone, to be included, to be loved.  I can’t do that now, the drinking – kidney damage from the incident in October, and I am not the robust, young, unbeaten up person I was in my 20’s. But in the overall scheme of things – it is the same. I sit, with the cats. And myself. Feeling more than a little lost, definitely afraid of what’s to come as I am an orange in an apple world with apple rules.

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