Not Special

So, Yes.  Again.  Here I am.  I’m sitting on my bed typing this.

I guess it’s not really much of a revelation, even though it is.  I was thinking about the anxiety and fear I have about going forward with ACTUALLY getting shit done in therapy.  I’m done pussy footing around the issues I have.  But it also got me thinking about what’s so special about me that Charon chose me to be her Stage 2 client.

And it hit me.

I’m not special.

Sure, I’m special to some people.  Flapjack and Kuma-chan, for example.  But in the grand scheme of things, only a few people would miss me.  So I’m really not all that special.

That doesn’t mean I’m not worthy of getting to a point where I don’t have to keep secrets locked up inside me.  Just because I’m not special, doesn’t mean that I’m not allowed to be loved and accepted and cared for.  It doesn’t make me any less than other people.  Because I am not less.  I am not more important and I’m not less important.  I just am.  And right now, I am hidden, in a way.

Like, not hidden hidden.  But more like, reserved.  Not emotionally open or available.  A locked up heart.  Forcing myself to be smaller and allowing myself to be shackled to the secrets and shames of my past.

Did I tell you guys I’ve adopted a No Shame policy?  I go through everything I do, trying not to be ashamed.  Doesn’t always work that great.  But I’m getting there.  By refusing to talk about the Thing, to work on getting beyond the point of being scared of everything, I’m only proving that I’m still ashamed.

Sure, I’m also still ashamed about the Autism stuff.  I’m finally gaining some self-awareness involving that.  However, that’s pennies.  I’m talking about the big stuff that’s holding me down, you know?

I don’t really know what else to say.  I don’t feel like I’m being particularly coherent right now.  I’ve not been sleeping well.  Nightmares and all that.  Besides, this was a mini rant brought to you by random thoughts.

Have a good one, my friends.

-The Sarcastic Autist


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