If you’re sick of me speaking about what life can be life on the Spectrum, apologies, I’m just trying to highlight what it is that makes me tick over here, what it is that connects us through words, through images, through life.
Dear Tyler, thank you so much for your reflection and your wonderful poem. Again, I echo your sentiments so much! After all, I am an full-fledged empath.
You write about your situation: “The thing is, THIS IS OK. This can happen, this is allowed, we just have to give ourselves time to crawl out, and having someone that truly understands this is invaluable. Understanding this about ourselves, even more so.”
You are so right. It is OK. All of us have have these aspects in us to one extent or another. They are actually gifts as well. All of us have so many wonderful gift and must make sure not to overemphasize what we like less about ourselves. We come as a package of different characteristics, and that’s what makes us unique, extraordinary and gifts to each other. No matter what, each one of us is a miracle.
Yes my dear, I can usually feel it coming, and I will Always be there to coax you out. Sometimes gently and with a whisper, sometimes a shout when it is needed.
Never fear that we tire of learning and hopefully gaining a little understanding on how your beautiful mind works. It is a gift that you choose to share yourself with us.
I am mom to an autistic teenager and strong advocate for the social model of neurodiversity understanding, as opposed to the medical model of a cure. Sharing the innards of your neurodiverse mind is essential for understanding and support. The media misrepresents the experience of autism, from shows like The Good Doctor, where Shawn is essentially a magical man, who ABC needed to make a savant, sending the message that autistic people don't have value unless they are geniuses. Autism is presented in one of three ways: genius, funny or inspirational. And this does a huge disservice to the autistic community. Don't ever stop. We need your voice.
I couldn't agree more with this. I always have been so bothered by this idea that in order to be of value, we've gotta be these geniuses that can know how many matchsticks fell the moment they hit the floor. OR, we have to be these bumbling morons that can barely put on the right clothes to leave the door. Simply isn't the case. This means a lot to me, thank you.
I appreciate how you honor yourself, seek to be understood, and invite us to know more. That said...this "slipping away" as you describe it sounds a bit like dissociation. Is it that? Is it something else? Is it involuntary or an at-will moment like meditation? I find myself curious....how far "away" do you go?
It's more like this: On a daily basis, my brain never stops moving 30304 mph and absorbing everything. I've gotten so good at processing it that most of the time, I can still function and that stuff just happens in the background and periphery. It's how I can still learn and absorb information even if it's just happening around me, not to me. BUT, sometimes, I get tired and lose the ability to stop that noise, and so I just go internal, deeper and deeper and deeper, like falling down a well. I know I can see the sky at the top, but I'm all the way at the bottom and the walls are slippery. Without a bucket down, I'm stuck.
That's really interesting to me. As a teacher, I've worked for years with students on the spectrum, as well as students like my son, with ADHD/Anxiety. I find learning about the different ways of perceiving daily experiences and tolerating stressors (especially as described by those living with neurodivergence) helps me better relate to and support people overall. What you describe almost seems like a sensory system at maximum capacity, requiring an exit to reset. Conversely, my son always requires MORE sensory data than his senses typically process, but it has to be conducive to running in the background so he can focus on a task (electronic music for example...but not a game or a TV screen because that's too compelling). Understanding these kinds of different perceptions makes a world of difference for my ability to be responsive to situations with my students. Thank you for the additional clarity on what your experience feels like for you.
Please keep sharing with us, never apologise. We are here for you! Always with open arms, ready hearts and listening ears.
I struggle too with going into myself for too long (the world is too loud and my poor brain can’t take it sometimes, my magical, beautiful ADD/dyslexic brain) but I found that art has a way of finding the path back home, so I just pick up the pen and hold on.
My family is also amazing at that, they just say something silly and the laughter brings me to the present moment.
It’s a complex world we live in, how lucky are we that we don’t walk it alone! Thank you Tyler!
I so enjoy your emails and poetry, and choices of music! It starts my day right. I'm forwarding today's entry to a friend that needs it... Many mahalos!
I love how you put things into words that perfectly explain things that I feel. This totally happens to me. Most of the time, I don't even know how I got there. I have always felt like I was supposed to find a reason or define it, but I love how you described it as something that just happens and is only about ourselves, no one else. I actually don't mind getting lost in myself sometimes. These are usually the times when I make great discoveries and find little pieces I need to carry on. Also, this is the place where my voice, my words are born. I will usually write a lot when I'm in this place. It may be painful or sad or just platonic sometimes, but I welcome my own darkness so I can learn and grow.
Honestly, when feelings become too much, I go back to the man that soothed over hurts and reminded us all that our feelings are okay and emotions are healthy and he liked us just the way we are: Mr. Rogers. Even at 39 years old, hearing him calmly and warmly ask if I'll be his neighbor still makes me feel better.
Not to ever take away from your bravery in sharing, I do think there are many of us feeling similar in our bodies in other ways. Normalizing and giving ASD words is so very important. I find with underlying depression and anxiety I want to give it a name and others do to. They want a reason and I do, too. Some days when I am deep in, don't want to get up and brush my teeth I go deeper inside as I walk through the motions of what society expects. This does not help. Others I am able to confide in and those that really see me help pull me out but not too quickly. For they understand my need to be seen and sit with it. It is a weird permission of sorts, to be seen and then slowly crawl back out.
Thank you for being real with us, it helps us be real in turn.
This happens to me frequently and you explained it so well. Sending this to my husband in hopes he can understand a little better that it has nothing to do with him when this happens. Glad to not be alone.
Dear Tyler, thank you so much for your reflection and your wonderful poem. Again, I echo your sentiments so much! After all, I am an full-fledged empath.
You write about your situation: “The thing is, THIS IS OK. This can happen, this is allowed, we just have to give ourselves time to crawl out, and having someone that truly understands this is invaluable. Understanding this about ourselves, even more so.”
You are so right. It is OK. All of us have have these aspects in us to one extent or another. They are actually gifts as well. All of us have so many wonderful gift and must make sure not to overemphasize what we like less about ourselves. We come as a package of different characteristics, and that’s what makes us unique, extraordinary and gifts to each other. No matter what, each one of us is a miracle.
———
we are miracles
that are not “standard issue” —
we have lots of gifts
to celebrate and nurture
that we can share together
———
no need to rescue
we are just fine as we are
we’ll help each other
to be who we want to be
and celebrate together
———
Nailed it once again my friend.
Yes my dear, I can usually feel it coming, and I will Always be there to coax you out. Sometimes gently and with a whisper, sometimes a shout when it is needed.
It feels really good to have someone be able to put into words exactly how "the slip" feels. thank you so so much.
Yessss, THE SLIP.
Never fear that we tire of learning and hopefully gaining a little understanding on how your beautiful mind works. It is a gift that you choose to share yourself with us.
Goodness, thank you. So much.
I am mom to an autistic teenager and strong advocate for the social model of neurodiversity understanding, as opposed to the medical model of a cure. Sharing the innards of your neurodiverse mind is essential for understanding and support. The media misrepresents the experience of autism, from shows like The Good Doctor, where Shawn is essentially a magical man, who ABC needed to make a savant, sending the message that autistic people don't have value unless they are geniuses. Autism is presented in one of three ways: genius, funny or inspirational. And this does a huge disservice to the autistic community. Don't ever stop. We need your voice.
I couldn't agree more with this. I always have been so bothered by this idea that in order to be of value, we've gotta be these geniuses that can know how many matchsticks fell the moment they hit the floor. OR, we have to be these bumbling morons that can barely put on the right clothes to leave the door. Simply isn't the case. This means a lot to me, thank you.
I appreciate how you honor yourself, seek to be understood, and invite us to know more. That said...this "slipping away" as you describe it sounds a bit like dissociation. Is it that? Is it something else? Is it involuntary or an at-will moment like meditation? I find myself curious....how far "away" do you go?
It's more like this: On a daily basis, my brain never stops moving 30304 mph and absorbing everything. I've gotten so good at processing it that most of the time, I can still function and that stuff just happens in the background and periphery. It's how I can still learn and absorb information even if it's just happening around me, not to me. BUT, sometimes, I get tired and lose the ability to stop that noise, and so I just go internal, deeper and deeper and deeper, like falling down a well. I know I can see the sky at the top, but I'm all the way at the bottom and the walls are slippery. Without a bucket down, I'm stuck.
That's really interesting to me. As a teacher, I've worked for years with students on the spectrum, as well as students like my son, with ADHD/Anxiety. I find learning about the different ways of perceiving daily experiences and tolerating stressors (especially as described by those living with neurodivergence) helps me better relate to and support people overall. What you describe almost seems like a sensory system at maximum capacity, requiring an exit to reset. Conversely, my son always requires MORE sensory data than his senses typically process, but it has to be conducive to running in the background so he can focus on a task (electronic music for example...but not a game or a TV screen because that's too compelling). Understanding these kinds of different perceptions makes a world of difference for my ability to be responsive to situations with my students. Thank you for the additional clarity on what your experience feels like for you.
Please keep sharing with us, never apologise. We are here for you! Always with open arms, ready hearts and listening ears.
I struggle too with going into myself for too long (the world is too loud and my poor brain can’t take it sometimes, my magical, beautiful ADD/dyslexic brain) but I found that art has a way of finding the path back home, so I just pick up the pen and hold on.
My family is also amazing at that, they just say something silly and the laughter brings me to the present moment.
It’s a complex world we live in, how lucky are we that we don’t walk it alone! Thank you Tyler!
I so enjoy your emails and poetry, and choices of music! It starts my day right. I'm forwarding today's entry to a friend that needs it... Many mahalos!
I love how you put things into words that perfectly explain things that I feel. This totally happens to me. Most of the time, I don't even know how I got there. I have always felt like I was supposed to find a reason or define it, but I love how you described it as something that just happens and is only about ourselves, no one else. I actually don't mind getting lost in myself sometimes. These are usually the times when I make great discoveries and find little pieces I need to carry on. Also, this is the place where my voice, my words are born. I will usually write a lot when I'm in this place. It may be painful or sad or just platonic sometimes, but I welcome my own darkness so I can learn and grow.
Honestly, when feelings become too much, I go back to the man that soothed over hurts and reminded us all that our feelings are okay and emotions are healthy and he liked us just the way we are: Mr. Rogers. Even at 39 years old, hearing him calmly and warmly ask if I'll be his neighbor still makes me feel better.
Not to ever take away from your bravery in sharing, I do think there are many of us feeling similar in our bodies in other ways. Normalizing and giving ASD words is so very important. I find with underlying depression and anxiety I want to give it a name and others do to. They want a reason and I do, too. Some days when I am deep in, don't want to get up and brush my teeth I go deeper inside as I walk through the motions of what society expects. This does not help. Others I am able to confide in and those that really see me help pull me out but not too quickly. For they understand my need to be seen and sit with it. It is a weird permission of sorts, to be seen and then slowly crawl back out.
Thank you for being real with us, it helps us be real in turn.
This happens to me frequently and you explained it so well. Sending this to my husband in hopes he can understand a little better that it has nothing to do with him when this happens. Glad to not be alone.