Sunday, April 11, 2021

Passing as a Washing Machine Setting

 You know, "normal". I am neuro-atypical, but am very lucky in the way that unless you are paying attention, you won't notice. At least, nowadays this is the case, for a lot of my life I was constantly struggling with the fact that I was noticeably different from the majority of people around me, and not in a fun way. In a very problematic way. I remember being told may times not to worry about it, because "Normal isn't a real thing, except on a washing machine", and I like my weirdness, mostly, so being normal was not ever the goal, blending in was, and eventually, I learned how to do that.

Today was a day where I spent the entire day with other neuro-atypical brains which means for the first time in a long time, I was able to fully relax without worrying about my  brain doing something "wrong" and "offensive" to the other people because our brains fire differently than most, and than each other, but we know what it looks and feel like so there's no judgment, just love.

So, in that vein of thought, sort of, things aren't real to me, unless I've written them down. Plans, ideas, feelings, they all are jumbled vague things in my brain until I (ideally) put pen to paper, or (less ideal) type them out. To myself, to one of million group chats, social media even, unless it's written down it's not a thing. 

It comes off as stubborn, but that I'm pretty sure I'm just also that. 

For years, I have written no less than 15 drafts in attempt to write a fictionalized version of the dramatization also known as my childhood.  BUT thanks to the amazingly talented brain of my BFF, I'm back on it. Instead of telling a story in a typical start to end format, I'm writing each individual story as a stand alone "short story" and once I have them all accounted for, organize them in some semblance of chronicle order.

Bonus is I don't have to stumble on the parts that I usually get stuck on, and since I'm writing from the narration point of view, the me shaped hole ideally will be clear without the magnifying glass on me. I hate the magnifying glass on myself, it's my least favorite part about trying to become a better person all the time. ;)

 

SO. Now I've "said" it. It's a thing, and I have to finish this draft version before giving up on it.  It's a real thing. /shrug/   :)

A Little Blasphemy as a Literal (and Figurative) Sign of Progress

 Hello there, it’s been a while, and in true returning from ghosting fashion, I am here to either share something vapid and meaningless, or ...