I miss writing.
I miss it so much, that I figured today was as good a day as any to take it back up.
Yesterday was Autistics Speaking Day. To learn about the origins of the event click Here.
I’ve talked about writing and have reconnected with people who ask me if I write or have a blog, so here is an attempt to unearth this creation as I begin to move forward with my career.
I woke up last week with the strangest feeling, or at least it was strange to me. I wasn’t anxious. I wasn’t too tired. I wasn’t feeling like I was missing something.
I woke up feeling happy. Then, I spent the rest of my day being happy. Then, for the next few days the feeling didn’t go away.
In some ways happiness is a choice and in other ways it can be a achievement that comes after lots of hard work. I get so stressed at times I will actively choose to be happy for times, but the feeling wasn’t one that always came naturally. For me, this recent feeling of happiness is the product of months of work, stress, sacrifices, and an unnatural determination to be my personal best. My hard work has finally started to pay off in a way that allows me to prioritize my health and well-being. It means I don’t have to work so hard to stay afloat and that is a happy feeling unlike any one I’ve felt before.
Being healthy to me means addressing the spiritual, mental, social, and physical needs in a way that balances each other out. It’s not too much of one and not enough of another, it’s everything working together as one unit to help me be my personal best. Consistently taking care of all the pieces that make me a Brigid is a lot of work. In many ways, it’s a part time job.Being Autistic, it take some extra work for everything to run smoothly because things some people consider ‘easy’ like making phone calls or filling out paperwork can be so draining I need extra time to recover.
My therapist asked me if I was afraid to be so happy. Since walking around for the better part of a week with a happiness I hadn’t experienced in years, he was asking me if I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. In some ways, I’ll always be waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I might as well enjoy the ride.
Waiting for the shoe to drop- A Lesson in Literal Thinking
I was very young when I first heard the phrase “waiting for the shoe to drop” and I had no idea what it meant. A short time after hearing that phrase, my family went to a street fair that had this ride on benches suspended above the buildings. It was not a fast ride, just a casual one giving people a chance to view the surroundings. There was a sign at the entrance to the ride that read ‘NO SANDALS” scribbled in red marker.
Of course I was wearing sandals.
I don’t remember seeing anything else except the rooftops as I carefully eyed my feet the entire ride. I was terrified to watch my shoe fall off. Would it hit someone? Would it break something?! How would I walk home without a shoe? What would happen if I lost both shoes?!
I waiting for the shoe to drop, but of course it never happened. We got off the ride and I’m sure we enjoyed the rest of the fair, but honestly I don’t remember anything else. It was so nerve wracking waiting for the shoe to drop.