Ahh, this year’s flash blog. It’s been an interesting one this year, putting it all together. But you know, that’s one of the best things about being Autistic. I get to be me, and by just being me, I can help others. The hyper-focus that I can maintain while constantly scheduling and updating the wordpress site definitely help too…
But on a more serious note, what are some of my favorite parts of being autistic? What makes being autistic “ausome”? Lots of things. Here are just a few things that I love about being autistic:
My stuffed animals. At 23, I have over 300 stuffed animals (312 to be exact) and I love every single one of them. They bring me great joy, and I love snuggling with them. If you ever want to make me happy, give me a stuffed animal.
Being a PhD student. I get to spend all day, every day, learning about my favorite subject in the world. I’m paid to perseverate on it. If that’s not ausome I don’t know what is.
Having super-senses. Sometimes this is not so ausome. I often get overloaded and this can lead to meltdowns. I have trouble eating and wearing most types of clothes (but not clothes is an even worse option!) But I rally do enjoy being able to hear everything that goes on all over the place. I like knowing what’s going on and how to find it.
Facts. Facts are awesome. There are lots of facts. I take pride in being a walking encyclopedia about a number of things, and really enjoy learning new facts.
My kitty, who is without a doubt an autistic cat. He’s a sweet, loving cuddly feline who is terrified of loud noises and people, except me. I think my neurology gives us a special bond. He was in the shelter for 9 months before I took him home.
Flapping for joy. Stimming for the love of the movement. Twirling in the rain. (as long as I can dry off immediately after :P)
Playing the piano for hours on end while I let the music carry me away from where I am.
And finally, knowing that I am autistic is one of the most ausome things about autism. Knowing that there is a “why” for all the reasons I’m different from my peers. That there’s an explanation for all the horrors of my childhood, for all the difficulties I face on a daily basis. For the disconnect between me and most people. Knowing that there are others like me. And a whole world out there waiting to accept us with open arms, and let us be unequivocally ausomely autistic.