How I Let Go and Let God

My mother died when I was 12, and Dad dated a psychic after she died. That psychic foresaw me becoming a writer and a tarot reader.

And my 13 year old brain accepted the program.  My suffering meant something.  I was going to help people tell their stories, and share mine so others wouldn’t feel alone.

I studied Tarot with the deck and book she gave me and did astrology charts for all my bemused friends at school.

I was so lucky to go to Tuskawilla after Mom died.

That’s where I met my closest and best friends still today.

Before I knew I was autistic, I tried so so hard to understand people’s behavior.  Today I gave up…lol

I am not willing to mask for anyone anymore.

I don’t think I’m a good friend if I secretly hate your life partner…and I fucking hate secrets.

I hate figuring out what my sister meant about “lashing out” six months later, when my friends who did not appreciate me doing the same thing to them this last week…and yet, they acted the same way.

Authoritarian. Unfriended. Passive Aggressive. Ignoring me because I used accurate words to my mood. And then a power play. Lol

Oh no, sweetums.

I am not and never have been a sub.

And not one of you silly people have earned that kind of trust from me.

And not one of you studied autism with me, so what do your apologies mean to me anymore?

Set me up to fail, and watch me fail. Shame on me. Well, now you know shame does not work on my brain the way it does on the people you can control.

I’m not asking if I’m being mean anymore.

I shouldn’t have to ask.

I’ll tell you how I’m feeling, and what I’m thinking and if you don’t like it, then you don’t like me. I don’t go where I feel unwelcome.

And I’m happy now. I have my light. I have control over my feelings. Not spiraling. Not fighting invisible foes.

I can’t change my mood to sweet when you accuse me of being bad and then threaten me with legal action. That was how you two lost my respect, as if you care. I know. It’s too bad. I really love you guys. I hope you find your peace, too.

What I don’t have control over, is how you interpret my behavior. You have your beliefs and no amount of knowledge or memory of older versions of you on my part can overcome that barrier.

That’s all on you. Well, not anymore.

Months of being treated like I’m a bad guy for melting down at being ignored, even if though I apologized. Because your apology fixes everything, but mine is an attack.

Hello, I have brain damage from decades of trauma, starting as a baby. I even came into the world bruised. I lost my 23 year old mother to my 41 year old father and find that age difference disgusting, personally. But to each their own.

I figured out I was autistic by studying it like I was not and thinking reading memoirs by autistic people would be the best way to learn…I was right. But it took so much stress that I lost the ability to take care of myself and dropped 80 pounds in 6 months. My ex psychiatrist took six months to notice.

I only chase off people who show me we’ll never be on the same page about behavior being communication and forgiveness not being earned. It’s a gift I give you, but I gotta earn it from you?

Ha!

Have fun with that emotional manipulation bullshit you all love so much.

I’m accepting my autistic superpowers.

I love you, always and forever and wish you all the very best life has to offer.

I will accept no less.

This is me, taking my power back.

Yay boundaries!

And medication! And good friends with therapists! And my years of therapy and my degrees and my amazing husband and kids and life!

Sorry I had to be so harsh, but hun, look what you were offering me.

And look what you were asking for.

See the inequality?

That’s ableist.

We all have ableist beliefs. Ableist people murder and leave homeless people like us.

So I’m using my brain to look for solutions.

And staying friends with you feeling hurt instead of letting go like you expect me too, since your feelings were obvious to everyone but your autistic best friend…I mean, whaddya want from me?

You know what kind of human I am.

I want the sweet, loving version of you back. But you sacrificed it at the altar of the patriarchy from my evil perspective.

Oh well.

Life is too short for hard feelings.

I only go where I feel welcome, and I only allow voices that choose to validate my progress and innate goodness more than counterattack me for an attack I thought was just me sharing my thoughts and feelings in a safe space.

I block people so my Facebook feed feels like a safe space to me. No other reason.

Anyway, I don’t have to prove myself to anyone.