When I was very little, my parents used to watch me do things, like drawing or writing, and they’d laugh, almost semi mockingly, and say things like, “When you’re older and famous, you can take care of ME.” I am starting to believe that this statement genuinely derailed my life. That’s a lot of pressure…
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For as long as I can remember, adults were trying to diagnose me with something. Even when I was in elementary school, as low as 1st grade, teachers told my mother that I was likely suffering from ADHD or Autism or something of the like. In hindsight, I DO have autism (and very likely I…
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I want my eventual death to be spectacular. I am an artist, so I want my funeral to be as pretentious and incoherent as possible. I want my coffin to be lined with black velvet, while a chorus of girls dressed from head to toe in bird feathers and black leotards sing a tabernacle choir…
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I don’t know how to properly wash a dish. Let’s start with that. My parents, in their infinite wisdom, prepared their children for many things in life. But I guess preparing them for things like, oh, daily life activities that even a brain damaged sea turtle could accomplish just fucking slipped their mind. Actually, I…
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In the penultimate episode of Season 1, Mavis talks about how birds helped her get her autism diagnosed, and fondly recalls the therapist who gave the diagnosis. If you want to hear the season 1 finale RIGHT NOW you can if you subscribe to my Patreon for as low as a buck a month! Buy…
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Recently, I acquired a lot of paperwork from my earlier years in school, elementary mostly, and came across some things that really surprised me. Here’s some slightly edited quotes from one particular packet, called the “Psycho Educational Assessment Report”. Maggie was referred to the Student Study Team at [redacted] by her first grade teacher because…
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I’ve been having a severe, existential identity crisis lately. I’ve come to realize that I don’t know who I am anymore. Oddly enough, when I was younger, I knew exactly who I was, even as young as 15. I knew what I believed, what I subscribed to ideals wise, all of that crap. Now though…now…
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So little control. So little control over anything and everything. Feeling like everything is always spiraling wildly out of control; things that I cannot handle or fix or better. I can’t control life, and so I make the bed. I make the bed every single morning when my girlfriend and I get up, because it…
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I don’t do well in social situations. Some of this can be attributed to my autism, some of it can be attributed to the fact that I just feel completely out of place everywhere. I mean, feeling out of place in an existential crisis kind of way is one thing, and I deal with that…
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