I’m writing into a void, but at least I’m writing, not avoiding. I wish I could tell people I know, but I’ve learned they don’t want to hear, so I’m going further afield. Maybe it will result in the same reaction: “Don’t wanna hear it. It’s a downer.”
It may be a downer, but it’s my downer. It’s my life. My life that, according to nature, shouldn’t have been. But wait! Humans are part of nature, too. And humans, doctors, are what allowed me to be born. Saved my mother’s life during the gestation, and saved mine after the birth. And then let me rot in misery, of course. Life is sacred. But it’s all about quantity, long before quality.
And I like the good kind, so I tend to complain about quality.
I’m proud of myself for not just sitting back and taking it. Taking “the disability route,” hiding behind my curtains. My sister took that route, decided her mental and back issues were enough that she shouldn’t work. Her choice. I feel pretty disabled by being a social retard, but there’s no official category for that and apparently I don’t fit autism spectrum, nor am I paying two to three thousand bucks as an adult to confirm that. A diagnosis isn’t going to fix my life. I tend not to fit categories, anyway. As I said, I’m a unicorn – and not food-colouring rainbows like the current food fad, but a unicorn on a deeper level. My essence. And, no, I don’t fart rainbows.
Update: PS, the “rainbow” shown is actually a type of interpreted satellite image called a fringe. I borrowed the image and can’t remember from where, but there are many many similar images around. Sorry for the attribution fail! It won’t happen again.