Autism: Him and Me

07 Dec

We sit in this room together. He is comfortable. I am shaking.

The room is warm, I know it is warm, but I don’t feel it.

He is happy here.

It doesn’t matter that I am over here, not five feet from him, having a panic attack.

He doesn’t notice.

This is the best part of his day.

Every part of his day is the best.

I wish that I could feel like that.

I leave the room for a moment. He barely looks up.

He seems to have no concerns at all.

Perhaps I should feel that way, too – after all, I have nowhere to go, no job to speak of, no schedule to plan.

I should be content to just be here; to just be.

But I am not. I want to be. I try to be. But I am not.

I am anxious. Terrified. Shaking. Chilled in a warm room. Struggling to focus. Struggling to overcome. Struggling…

And he sleeps. Contented, peaceful, happy.

If only I were him. I cannot imagine what that would feel like. My imagination does not carry me that far.

Maybe I should join him. Sit beside him. Try to feel what he feels.

But I can’t.

I am too anxious.


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Posted by on December 7, 2015 in Experiences of an Autistic


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