I'm going to be adding Tyler, Bianca, and Enid to my Wednesday muses and re-do my carrd here soon. All muses from this verse are 18. Now to make icons.
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Kids...as a child,
a mentally ill
Li’l autistic
with ADHD
living in an abusive environment
I was told repeatedly and with relish that the way I enjoyed things was unacceptable
that all the glorious energy and joy I had bursting out of me was
too much! Always too much.
So I learned how to keep it all in keep a straight face never admit to investing emotional energy into anything don’t make too much noise don’t move so much sit still and be more careful and look people in the eyes when they are speaking to you and
I’m tired.
I’m tired of holding in all the pleasure and excitement and joy I feel.
My discomfort is instinctually suffered in silence, so what’s being held back is my happiness
...My good humour and effusive warmth.
I can’t say it’s the same for everyone on the spectrum but I’d reckon I’m not the only one.
So what if I experience the world through my entire body? So what if happiness can be made through sound and comfort is deep pressure and apprehension can be flung away with a flick of the wrist?
I giggle at my own thoughts and I talk to myself and that makes people uncomfortable. I seem odd, but only just enough to mention. All my worldly knowledge and effort only gets me that far.
And I can’t care anymore.
I’ve had a long day and this post is a mess, but today I’m giving it up.
Allistics and Neurotypicals no longer get my grace or sympathy, and I will exist in this world how I see fit. Your perception of me is not my problem 😘🥰
I am giving myself the permission to erupt out and colour the world that I was denied as a child. I am taking what I am owed.
-JLC
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If my mom sees a significant amount of blood she gets lightheaded, and has fainted on some occasions. Once it happened when we were kids, I wasn't there to witness it but I heard the story from my dad. Basically my brothers, around 7 or 8 at the time, were playing outside while my mom was making their lunch, and she accidentally cut her finger. It wasn't anything serious, but it drew a fair bit of blood and she passed out. My dad saw this and rushed over, but he didn't really know what to do so he just sort of started slapping her to wake her up (not recommended, but he had no idea and panicked)
At that exact moment my brothers both came in from playing, and all they saw was our mom unconscious on the floor and our dad slapping her. So, like, without even saying a word to each other they both just INSTANTLY start whaling on him, like, full blown attack mode to defend our mom. Which obviously didn't help the situation, but she did wake up and everything was fine.
Now our dad says that he's actually really glad they attacked him over what they thought was going on, because it means he raised good boys. And I still think that's true, they're very good boys.
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hey, hi, I was just on the former bird app and came across this info from a brand new study and now I cannot stop screaming internally??? what the actual fuckkkk
theres' an article from the guardian here and here is the actual study:
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probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.
we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."
at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.
the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.
the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.
what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.
here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.
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