It’s ironic that after a lifetime of masking so hard when you’re hurting so deep inside, it’s still not seen & even in your despair of not wanting to continue, you’re still misunderstood. I guarantee that even if I left a note detailing all the things that were weighing so heavily on me, compounded by many years, that would also be misinterpreted, the pure truth lost. And a false narrative would prevail. So that in & of itself makes it futile.
In all the talk & crying out, I won’t become among the statistics like my ancestors, kin & so many others. Some of us will continue to trudge through as always, feeling weak even in this. I can’t be alone but it’s not widely talked about that I’ve seen. It’s always under the guise of poor mental health. We are medicated, chastised, institutionalized, patted on the head as if we are simpletons.
Where are my late-realized #autistics ? Another shot in the dark.