Sharing Experiences with Others

There is a war going on. Two sides are no longer at a cease fire. The thoughts on one side are harsh.

Cruel.

Mean.

They envelop the whole, making me feel worthless. The use of these words to damage and maim, no light allowed into the action.

Breathing becomes fuller and more focused. A tightness in the chest appears. It starts in the center and expands out to the left and right. It further constricts as each breath is taken in through the nose.

My eyes start to well.

Don’t cry. If you start, you won’t be able to stop.

PING!

Another alert comes through on the computer.

What did I do wrong this time?

I am useless. Dumb. Stupid. Why am I in this job? That is what THEY must be thinking. It has to be.

Never a “good job”, just criticism.

These impressions are based on how they talk about others.

What must they be saying about me behind my back?

The conflict intensifies, inside my head.

PING! WHOOSH!

Now another source of communication has joined the fun.

Let her have it – tell her without saying the words THEY must be thinking.

Change it – this isn’t right – still has to change.

What am I doing wrong?

Can someone become autistic later in life? I need details, information. Tell me. Show me what is wrong.

I lead with blue energy. I need details to understand the how and why.

BREATHE!

Close your eyes. Deep breath…

No one understands.

I feel like a failure.

I am letting others down.

I am not perfect but I aim for perfection.

BREATHE!

Smell the air outside as it passes through the screen of the window. The breeze floating in the fresh air with the mix of sour cut grass and lavender dryer sheets.

PING!

NO!

I can’t take it.

I will use my words and let someone in.

I tell them I am frustrated and feel as if I can’t do anything right.

SEND!

Crickets. Nothing. No reply.

THEY don’t understand the pain. THEY can’t see the fight going on. The struggle. The negative side has overtaken any and all positivity.

No more smiles. No more laughs.

Just an ache in my chest. The first tear wells up at the edge of my eye. I feel the blob waiting to drop.

Don’t blink. Don’t move for fear of it starting a deluge.

I can’t. My chest heaves. The first drop hits the top of the cheek and follows the outline of my nose. It reaches the top of my lips. I flick my tongue to remove the evidence. The salty taste lingers on my tongue but it is too late.

I squeeze my eyes shut but know I just need to open them – to release. It is the only way to eliminate the built up tension in my chest. The flow drains on both sides.

How can I flip the negativity? I ask myself. Me, my brain arguing with myself in my head.

If I told anyone they would say I have mental health issues, that I am crazy in a world where it is supposed to be accepted.

I am a functioning person in society. I wasn’t always like this or… I do remember as a child talking in my brain. No out-loud words. I could NEVER! They wouldn’t and don’t understand this process. Me.

The crying stops. The pressure dissipating.

My brain – the positive side – takes the reins.

It says walk away from the defeatism, away from the PING, WHOOSH etc. Go do something that brings you joy. So, I pack up my work and bring it with me. I put Visine in my red, bloodshot eyes. I wash my face and hopefully remove any traces.

I focus on my granddaughter – my joy. My smile and laughter is not forced. The pain in my chest is forgotten.

There is a truce in place.

How temporary is it? Like a volcano ready to erupt, I don’t know when the war will commence but it is inevitable.

For now, I am useful to someone.

I matter.

I am loved.

And for this moment, the war quiets.