igetcha

[igetcha]

The World Needs More Burdens

You’ve been called a lot of things: a burden, undesirable, and destructive, and you are.

You are a burden to:

Those who want to exploit you but can’t find a way

Those who thought they broke you but didn’t

Those who choose to hate you no matter how many reasons you give them to love you

Those who don’t deserve you

You are undesirable to:

The systems that keep you down

The snowball of hate that you won’t let consume you

The gates protecting lies from truth that you keep climbing as you’re kicked down

The past that refuses to give way to a brighter future

You are a destroyer of:

Cages on minds

Locks on hearts

Prerequisites to hope

Violence branded as peace

[igetcha]

Fog: a Metaphor for Overthinking

The fog rolled in slowly, peacefully, beautifully, and I sat at my window hoping it’d come my way. I couldn’t wait for the end of my work day to see and feel it up close. I watched in awe at each wave, looking for patterns in their direction. Then it engulfed me, repressing the depth it had added to the landscape behind an endless mass of undefined, directionless, monochrome, blank space. The path to the places it had drawn my attention to was unclear but I ventured out, one step at a time, trusting that the amorphous fog would someday turn into clarity, one drop at a time.

[igetcha]

Don’t tell others what they can and can’t do

Over the years, I’ve met many people with big dreams, some which seemed feasible to me and some which didn’t, and I gave them the same advice regardless: go for it. If we can’t see a way past someone’s limitations, it doesn’t mean they can’t find one. We can only hurt them by telling them to stop looking. I know it’s hard to look past the biases the world has passed onto you, but the least you can do is break the cycle. You never know who’ll inspire you. Don’t dim their light.

[igetcha]

No on is immune to being human: anyone can get depressed

Being in a STEM field, I’m constantly surrounded by people who think only “crazy” people get emotional, depressed, or anxious, an attitude which permits them to act without thinking about the consequences, dismissing anyone who gets hurt in their wake as damaged to begin with. Little do they know their toxicity could very well be setting a trap for themselves. Anyone can get depressed or anxious. No one is born that way. It develops over time. Sure, some people are more genetically predisposed than others, as with heart disease, but no one can live on fried chicken and steak alone just as no one can live in a war zone. Studies show that every single veteran sufferers some level of PTSD. No one is immune to being human, yet human often doesn’t cut it in our world obsessed with larger than life figures. I’m tired of being seen as a slacker, rebel, or spoiled brat for needing space to take care of myself. It’s not like anyone else will if I don’t. I’m tired of standing alone against the bulldozers chewing us up and spitting us out. I’d like to live in a world where humans can be humans and robots can be robots and it’s accepted that there’s a difference.

[igetcha]

When I grow up I want to be a victim - said no one ever

If you ask a kid what they want to be when they grow up, I can guarantee they won’t say they want to be living on welfare or telling the same old sob story over and over for likes on Facebook. Kids dream of credit cards, not victim cards. In our growingly competitive world, we’re constantly told we’re not enough, that all our hard work means nothing if we haven’t made millions or cured cancer, that we need excuses for a life not littered with miracles. This world turns us all into victims, and no, no one wants to be a victim.

[igetcha]

Your place on this planet is a right, not a privilege.

I just got out of an abusive relationship...with society. It was a pretty classic story: wooing, promises, tidbits of conditional affirmation served with a main course of “or else,” and of course, gaslighting. Gaslighting is a tactic used to isolate people by convincing them no one loves them except the abuser, convincing them to be desperate enough to settle, maybe even see it as a blessing, honor, miracle, what have you. Gaslighted people feel like they have nowhere else to go. It’s basically Stockholm syndrome without the physical captivity.

Fear isn’t born. It’s made, often created from thin air and spread like a plague. When I was six, my mom told me if I didn’t stop being so annoying I’d get beat up. She told me it’s a girl’s job to let things go, that it didn’t matter if I was in the right because there’d always be someone else more selfless people would rather put up with. Little did I know anyone who doesn’t want to put up with me isn’t worth my time. Honestly, the sooner people reject me, the sooner I can move on with my awesome self centered life that my parents still argue I don’t deserve.

I learned to fend for myself pretty early on. People can’t really mess with you when you’re MIA and have no rep for them to destroy. The more time I spent alone, the more I liked it. I’m glad I’ve had the privilege of exploring what I like doing when no one’s watching, though that’s another thing that should be a right and not a privilege. I loved exploring the world, seeing everything and not committing to anything, and I would’ve been happy to do just that forever if it wasn’t for this concept of self worth, which is (quite appallingly) measured by people who aren’t any smarter than us, you know, the insufferable types who think they are, or maybe they know it’s BS and are using it to their advantage.

Anyway, I developed an independent worldview early on. Life in no man’s land was boring but I had a bucket list to motivate me. I did feel a little guilty though. My mom said I needed to be less of a taker and more of a giver. The myriad of accommodations I’d needed as a kid often came up in that discussion. If I had a dime for how many times I’ve heard the phrase, “we could’ve raised 10 kids with the effort it took to raise you,” I’d be on a private yacht right now. I figured if I did enough to give back, I could even the balance and get back to my peaceful, introverted life, or if that proved to be as impossible as it felt, the least I could do was stop taking.

After chickening out at the last minute and ripping up the note, I became a martyr. I jumped at any opportunity to help people on whatever level, to serve them basically. I got walked all over and I just took it, because for once, I didn’t feel guilty for existing. Then came the burnout and the downward spiral. I didn’t want anyone to save me. I didn’t want to be a taker. Plus, I’d probably just spiral again. Still, it was shocking how all anyone had to offer was blame and assumptions. For the first time, I genuinely knew I didn’t deserve it. Regardless, I couldn’t keep living that way and I didn’t want anyone to waste their time on a lost cause.

Then came the moment of inspiration that saved my life, validation from a stranger I hadn’t done anything for or promised anything to. For once, someone didn’t see me as a broken person compensating for my unacceptable flaws but a regular confused barely adult with a good heart. I doubt I would’ve jumped anyway though. I was too angry. If people who don’t try half as hard to be decent human beings could strut around like kings, I had ever right to my bucket list.

A year earlier, a friend had told me I was part of the reason she didn’t kill herself. As shallow as this sounds, that was the first time I ever felt like the world was a better place with me in it. It was definitely a better place with her in it. She was a selfless martyr like me, I would later learn for a lot of the same reasons. I was shocked that no one else could see how amazing she was, how badly she wanted to fix the world no matter how broken it told her she was, no matter how bad it broke her. Watching her spiral was the most painful experience ever. I couldn’t let her go.

I had my why, and it was a weighty one, too much for an 18 year old, but I clung to it with my life, because it was the only justification for my existence. I realized I could make something good come out of my lifetime of feeling like an inadequate human being. I could see the value in others where most people didn’t care to look. In a world of walking advertisements, I found fulfillment in helping others see the unique qualities they couldn’t see in themselves.

Soon, I could sense people could trust me. People I barely knew were telling me left and right that they were depressed and wanted to kill themselves. I was lucky if I wasn’t trying to stop 2 people at once. There was a whole world under the facade that no one else could see. It didn’t matter how inadequate or unqualified I was. I had to do something.

People who question whether they deserve to be on this planet deserve it most. The world needs us. We question because we care about others and our impact on them on a level so deep it consumes our existence. We suffer because the world doesn’t understand why we’re being consumed and mocks us instead of supporting us. They treat us like we’re deluded when we’re among the few who start by looking in the mirror when we want to see change in the world. We doubt ourselves, which others see as weakness, but it takes strength. It takes immense strength to sacrifice ones life for others, but it’s not the right or the smart thing to do.

We think we’re in other people’s way when they think others are in their way. Little do they know that in their way is where miracles happen. You might not know how to make an impact but you already are just by being here. If everyone who cared as much as we do jumped off a bridge, the world would progressively become a more selfish place. The world doesn’t need martyrs. It needs survivors, desperately.

The world needs to see more happy endings, more books and songs that go beyond contemplating death to contemplating life, and more importantly, more people who do the same. In a world that pushes us to think more and more, people need to know that those thoughts don’t need to be the start of a downwards spiral but can also be the start of an upward one. We might feel dead inside but it’s only because we’re alive on a deeper level, one where boundaries vanish and love is unconditional and lasting and petty fears can’t touch us, one the world needs to get comfortable with.

[igetcha]

You Deserve Your Dreams

Dreams are the bridge between today and tomorrow, between the defined and the undefined, between the things you can’t change and the things you can. They’re more than a fantasy. They’re our ticket to a better reality, a glimpse calling to be chased. In a world of scarcity, dreams are infinite. They don’t discriminate. They’re a basic human right, not a privilege. They’re an escape from a reality that puts us in boxes and freezes us in time, a reality where who we are today and who we’ll be tomorrow is predetermined by who we were yesterday, a reality that sounds a lot like a fantasy. Dreams are the real reality.

[igetcha]

Life’s too long

Life’s too long to:

Settle

Do just one thing

Hold grudges

Keep up an act

Lie to yourself

Game the system

Waste in search of perfection

Be miserable

Give up

[igetcha]

why I write

They say to write what you know. I'd rather write what I want to see. Call it memetics, neurolinguistic programming, or downright crazy; I like to think putting it out there increases the chances of it happening. Maybe it's just an excuse to trap my ideas before they trap me, to serve them in a palatable form anyone can pick them up so I don't have to, an escape from the ticking of mortality. Whether it's a placebo, I'm happy to live my life not knowing or particularly caring.

[igetcha]

via weheartit

[igetcha]

Insomnia

My mind refuses to file away the day’s events. It demands answers. My bed is a brick wall pushing me away. My pillow dissolves under my dense, cluttered head. It’s tomorrow already. Now I’m dreading today. I squeeze my eyes tighter and try to make one last escape but they demand to open. The city lights creeping through the blinds pass through my sleeping mask like ghosts. The sun soon follows. My mind still thinks it’s yesterday. If only it worked that way. When my mind finally gives up and my eyes are bolted shut, my alarm fills the air with crippling regret, chaining me to the brick wall. I try to hold on to yesterday just a little bit longer but it’s long gone, part of the past my mind refuses to accept and my body hasn’t gotten over. Last night was devoid of nightmares but I have a feeling today won’t be.

[igetcha]

Why I Love Being Alone

It’s the one place I don’t feel guilty for sleeping, eating, breathing, getting comfy, rocking out to whatever I feel like, having emotions, not having all the answers, being autistic, and existing.

[igetcha]

I have a high IQ and don’t believe in genius

Intelligence comes in many forms, some that show up when you’re little, many that take experience to marinate. While it’s easy to tie our adult personalities and thinking styles to childhood events, the experiences that shape us often come later in life. Necessity is the mother of invention and different necessities hit different people differently throughout life. No matter how much we have, we always have needs. Human nature always wants more. Boredom stretches the gap between surviving and thriving, creating a need to do something.

What something we choose is influenced by those around us. We label kids as smart, creative, etc., creating a self-fulfilling prophecy for their future lives. Most accept it but some find stronger driving forces later in life. The most impactful projects out there come from the deepest backstories, the ones that make us question who we are and who we want to be, the kind that urge us to leave the past behind and build a better future for ourselves and others.

Creating something new opens the door to a world undefined by stereotypes. It doesn’t matter who the world thinks is the best person for the job when there’s only one person who’s interested. New ideas stem from the intersection of passions, from people who don’t fit into one box, the happily undefined, the unpredictable.

Without boxes, our abilities are limited only by our drive, not by what people saw or rewarded in us as kids. No matter their IQ, I haven’t met a single person who vents more about work than people.  No matter how daunting a task feels, it can be taken on in manageable chunks. People, on the other hand, are a gamble. Our aversion to anything that can’t be served on a silver platter makes us the most formidable force out there, to others and ourselves.

Those of us inside the box aren’t immune to resistance either. We’re put on a pedestal, expected to produce a constant stream of miracles and overlooked for everything else we do, no matte how valuable. Our blood, sweat, and tears are invisible, and our cries for help are unheard. Boxes hold us back regardless of where we fall in relation to them.

IQ is a label. It’s my hard work and passion that got me where I am. I’m insulted if you disagree.

[igetcha]

What it’s like being autistic (pretty awesome really)

You might think I’m not cut out for the intricate social web we live in. I’m not cut out to fit into its nooks and crannies, to lose myself in it without even realizing, to convince myself to feel what others tell me to. No, I’m its match. I feel the weight of the walls closing in around me and I don’t like it one bit. I struggle constantly with no light at the end of the tunnel. Some would say in vain. I don’t chase the light at the end up the tunnel. I make windows.

[igetcha]

How Autistic Obsessions Happen

Obsessions give us a turf in a world that loves to push us aside, a chance to feel like winners in a world that loves to make us feel like losers, and a sense of control chaotic. overwhelming world. Many autistics develop obsessions with whatever they happen to be good at as a kid. If people are impressed, we’re extra likely to go down the rabbit hole. If there are rewards, we zip down it with supersonic speed.

Things get more complicated as we get older. People aren’t as easily impressed and the rewards are fewer and farther between. Sometimes we get there in grade school, sometimes grad school, sometimes never. Depending when we get there, our obsession(s) can comprise a big part of our identity, enough to make it worth holding onto regardless of the consequences. It’s a lot more empowering to be an outsider with a niche than a nobody.

Behind our dare-to-be-different vibe, we’re a lot more impressionable than we let on and would go to great lengths to hold onto priorities and beliefs we subconsciously picked up from our immediate vicinity. We’re slow to notice trouble brewing but quick to adapt when we do. People often peg us as stubborn, narrow minded, and unwilling to change without realizing we just don’t see a good reason to. “Because I said so” doesn’t mean much to us but a logically grounded argument can inspire change far deeper than the people pleasing surface stuff.

Many of us find the world of social interaction painfully fake and desperately search for truth. Given access to enough broad and balanced information, we can get a lot farther than most people care to. Since the rise of the internet, we hear more stories of autistics getting involved in activism, often on their own accord. We’re capable of being true individuals, staters, and leaders, yet many of us get stuck in Rain Man land because that’s where we’re told we belong from a young age.

Our society starts labeling people as leaders, followers, task robots etc. way too young. The idea of proving yourself to make it to the next level makes sense in an interdependent adult society, but when forced on kids, it deters unconventional learning styles. We regard school as a predictor for future success but all it really shows is our ability to follow a prewritten script. Many people find passion and talent for fields that were not their forte in school later in life. Yet, the world continues grooming us to stick to what it knows rather than what it needs.

New roads aren’t trusted until they meet predetermined validation standards. While this keeps us safe in the construction industry, it holds us back when applied to who we support, listen to, or even give the time of day. Through compensating for impairments, we develop unique skill sets and thought processes, which you’ll usually never hear about because we grow up translating them into neurotypical speak and sometimes aren’t even aware of our differences.

I’m not suggesting that we analyze each other under a microscope. In fact, my #1 pet peeve is lay people playing therapist. What I am advocating for is a more open minded attitude toward new ideas and ways of life. It breaks my heart that many of the people in history who made the greatest impact on society lived in torment and exile, folks we’re taught to admire but not emulate, especially if we’re different.

We live in a world where being accepted is far more rewarded than being right. Acceptance tends to come from pleasing those around you, either by doing what they want when they want it or by convincing them of long-term perks to doing things differently. Those who can convince are welcomed into a larger sphere of influence while those who can’t learn to keep their thoughts to themselves.

Like any population, autistics have done both great and horrible things. While the media loves to lump us together, I believe the credit should go to the person rather than the condition. Autism influences how we think, not what we believe. It does, however, impact the kind of interactions and relationships we have that shape our beliefs.

Autistics are as capable of developing a balanced perspective as anyone else. We’re just less likely to because we tend to attract fewer people into our lives. Our difficulty making new friends makes us more dependent on the few we do have. 

Family impacts us more than most. We take it literally when our parents threaten to call the cops if we don’t eat our food. We have an especially deep need for a calm, stable environment but live in an environment that puts a strain on the families of autistics as well. If we don’t grow up feeling guilty or ashamed, we’re still likely to grow up with an atmosphere of hidden tension as our control to base life on.

For many of us, obsessions are an escape. The more esoteric, the less likely to be invaded by the more stressful aspects of our lives. We cling to them, not so much because we need them, but because we’d feel displaced without them.

While some of us obsess for life, others jump between obsessions. Personally, I need to schedule time in everyday where I’m in control. It doesn’t even really matter what I’m doing, just as long as I can take a break from the fear of disappointing everyone around me.

As an adult we often want an identity larger than a series of obsessions. We want to make an impact. Obsessions can be a great safety net in our journey to the outside world. Despite our inherent lack of flair for social situations, they can become an obsession too if we devote enough energy to them.

We develop obsessions to feel good about ourselves, sometimes in the now and sometimes with hopes for the future. The whole western world is obsessed with dating and autistics are no exception. When something causes us trouble, we tend to walk the other way or charge in with full speed.

The new Netflix dramady, “Atypical,” is a great example. Sam jumps into online dating with 0 experience and fills the void with the first pickup artist videos he finds on YouTube. Unlike most teens, Sam is isolated enough to take the words of some douche with nothing better to do as gospel. Pickup communities and hate groups love to prey on those who haven’t found acceptance elsewhere. They don’t have to be right. They just have to be first.

Giving up is the worst thing you can do for those people and society at large. If we could just make people who are different feel welcome in more constructive groups, the haters would have no army. Society paints people who are a little quirky as the enemy and pushes them down that path. The more people we give up on, the stronger the dark side grows. They’re still just regular people who want to be loved like the rest of us. They just need a logically grounded reason to change and someone to give it to them.

We’re capable of becoming obsessed with just about anything, but it comes from inspiration, not force. No matter how hard I try, I cannot convince myself I like studying for class. I love my job in the same field and I read plenty of random tech blogs but the arbitrary deadlines and grading is a major turn off for me. Maybe if people tried discouraging me from staying in school, I’d actually enjoy it. Who knows. I definitely did when I switched majors. Back then, it was my act of taking control. Now, school feels like the place I have least control.

The scope of an obsession is different for each person. I absorb tutorials like a sponge but can’t stop my mind from wandering in class. I go all-out with my makeup every month or so but rock the lazy girl look 99% of the time. I love trying new things but usually lose interest once I succeed. I know I can do it if I want to. That’s all I need. I really don’t like practicing. I feel like I could be spending my time doing so many more exciting things. I’ve gone through enough obsessions in my life to know they tend not to last for me personally, so now I’m obsessed with novelty.

Obsessions have an immense power to engage us but they don’t define us. We are as undefined and adaptable as anyone else. We just need to opportunity to grow in our own passionate way.

[igetcha]

Advice is so yesterday.

Advice is like rain. It has immense power to nurture or destroy. A little can promote healthy growth but too much too fast can wash away everything you’ve built and send you running, again. When meteorological instruments can’t differentiate between coming drizzles and storms, there’s no way you can expect yourself to. 

It’s okay to choose shelter over water. It’ll rain again soon enough. It’s okay to stand your ground when everyone else is riding the wave. It’s okay to think for yourself. Whoever told you to ride the wave doesn’t know you or your situation like you do. 

They didn’t think about the congestion along the river from people following in their footsteps, the extra food you’d need, the bigger boat you’d need to carry it, the depth required for such a boat....Soon, it becomes a completely different journey, your journey. The world is full of roads, but at some point, you’ll end up in a situation where you need to build your own. It might as well be a road you actually want built.

[igetcha]

Life After Deciding To Stay *trigger warning: suicide*

If you have a friend or loved one who’s contemplated or attempted ending their life, it’s gotta be the scariest feeling in the world. The constantly wondering if they’re okay leads to wondering if they’ll ever be okay, whether they’re capable of being okay or broken beyond repair. I mean, can someone who has to convince themself every few minutes that they actually want to be alive ever be happy? If you convince them to stay, could it ever benefit them and not just everyone else? Could they ever see it that way? Can someone who experiences that kind of pain on a daily basis ever be anything but a victim? Can someone who is so confident they want something that badly ever truly change their mind?

The answer is yes. Take it from someone who’s been there. I never thought someone could change their minds this much until I experienced it. There was a part of me that knew I deserved better but didn’t think I could have it and a part of me that knew I could have it but didn’t think I deserved it. As those two perspectives struggled for dominance, only one thing remained certain to me: for one reason or another, I had no place here.

Yes, I have a mental illness, yes, I’ve struggled with it my entire life, and yes, I’m genetically predisposed to it, but those thoughts still came from somewhere. I experienced life like everyone else, just in the wrong order. I experienced too much pain and injustice before love, too many lies before truth, and too many unanswered prayers before realizing there were far bigger things to pray for. Sure, some of us are built in a way that makes me more likely to end up trapped in that mentality, but it’s definitely not the only place we can end up or where we belong.

You can’t expect to change someone’s worldview overnight, but you can plant seeds of hope in their mind. Some grow roots instantly and some just hold them over in apathetic misery until they find others that do. Most pile up like drops of water in a dried up ocean bed, seeming insignificant at first, but slowly filling a void of perspectives and experiences.

Everyone’s puzzle of life comes together differently: some like a neat maze with visible gaps to fill and others with islands so spread out they each claim to tell a complete story. Pain hurts a million times more when the bridge to pleasure hasn’t been built, or worse, hasn’t even been mapped out. Love can fill voids and wounds can heal with time. No one is broken, just unfinished like the rest of us. Everyone deserves and can benefit from a chance to see the rest of their puzzle fall into place. Showing them, in any way possible, that it exists can do wonders. That first drop in the ocean summons more to condense with it.

What next? The first step is finding a reason not to end it right now. The next step if finding a reason not to end it anytime, anything from a profound new passion to a plan B to start over in a new locale. The logical and emotional sides of our brains are often convinced separately and take time to catch up to each other. Emotional urges can pop up months or even years after thinking through and committing to a new resolution, perspective, or lifestyle, and feel-good moments often take their sweet time to start making sense.

Sure, people at this stage can get trapped on an island again, but so can the rest of us. There’s no reason they can’t build puzzles as sturdy and beautiful as anyone else. While the starting point can exponentially change the difficulty of a puzzle, it doesn’t change the end product. Yes, our experiences make us stronger and wiser, but they don’t define us. A few dark pieces don’t dictate the color scheme of the puzzle. They make the colors pop. We all have them. Who cares which pieces got there first?