Oh my God, I’m so Autistic
Sometimes, I get high
& I’m like, oh my god, I’m so autistic
I overthink
everything
to a degree where people must be looking at me
thinking like
what the fuck
I am hyper-fixated
on how I arrange things in the space around me
my biggest autistic trait
is a sensitivity to my external environment
I’m going back & forth in my head
about my own reasoning behind
where I should put my shoes
until I’m just
going back & forth through the space
holding my fucking shoes
& I kind of can’t deal with people eating food around me
& I kind of don’t like the music, but I don’t want to be rude
one of the things I am navigating
is how to communicate with clarity
like, I like the keys but not the really loud, intrusive bass
Sometimes, I cannot control my environment & it can
be a little hard for me
like it’s all just quite chaotic & full-on
all this movement & noise &
me just drowning
once I hyperventilated
cos two different kinds of music were playing on
Cuba Street simultaneously
This communication thing, though is going pretty well for me
I realised I just have to be patient with myself
& hope others will be, too
so I can make myself as comfortable as I can be
so I can alleviate my anxiety
by doing something as simple as
repositioning the blanket on my couch
or as complicated as
trying to express my feelings
Sometimes
especially when I am high & my
masking mechanisms fail
my words are a big mixed-up mess
like I lose the last before I pick up the next
thing about that is
my poetry’s fucking excellent
& I feel like it never fails me
even when it gets me in trouble
cos even when it gets me in trouble
at least I’m honest
at least I’m getting my point across
at least I’m standing up for myself
& all my little quirks
you know it’s not that strange to behave differently
whoever wrote the textbook for how to hold yourself in society
obviously had a limited view
as if everyone can just function fine…
with all this emotion & overstimulation
me personally, I can’t hide my feelings
maybe that’s why so few autistic adults are employed
& that’s only counting the ones who got a diagnosis
so my hope is that we can all just… understand
that sometimes life is weird
that we don’t all communicate the same
I hope we can be patient,
like I’m being patient with myself
very slowly, specifically
making myself comfy
fishing for my words
& putting them together like fridge magnet poetry