Wednesday, February 17, 2016

My Healing Journey (Part 1)

If you're reading this blog and are living with Aspergers (Autism) and/or PTSD, I welcome you to my journey of healing. One of the reasons why I love writing is because it's therapy and my desire is to write to right the broken soul (mine and yours). So, I thank you for accompanying me on this journey to healing. Even though we may have Autism and/or PTSD, we can be very thankful that there's a healing for the anxiety as a result of it. Of course, there's a cure for PTSD; however, Autism is a different story. But as I have learned, Autism is actually a gift (I'll share more on that as I share part of my journey with you all). So let's get up close and personal as we heal together (in fact, lift your hands up in victory)!

I heard someone say that the better neurotypicals (non-autistics) understand our journey, the more acceptance and support we will receive from them. Well, when I was diagnosed with it in 2014, very few people were very supportive with me. But I know that for some people, my anxiety disturbs them and I can totally understand (some know that it's due to autism). One of my dearest friends recommended that I looked into a support group, and I did. I'll be honest; anxiety and stability are the two things I struggle with the most. I'm others have told anyone who struggles with anxiety that if they would just learn to relax; the anxiety would go away.  Well, it's not that easy (especially if you have Aspergers/Autism). Over a period of time, the anxiety-filled memories from childhood become locked in our brains, tending to make the anxiety stick with us throughout our lives (I'm a living witness to that). When you think about it, Autism breeds other disorders such as OCD, PTSD, and different forms of anxiety.


If you could watch my life via a movie throughout my school years, you would find an anxious boy. Some would even call it obnoxious due to trying to find my place in this world (as Michael W. Smith would say). Fear was my best friend at home and at school (I didn't experience that much fear during my last three years of high school though). What were my greatest fears? Well at home, it was the belt. This is not an attack on my parents by any means. If I received notes to take home from elementary school that stated that my behavior was terrible or that stated I called out a great deal, I had to fear the belt. There were times I would come home and hide under the bed because I knew that a belt was waiting for me. At school (especially my freshman year in high school), I was bullied because most of the upper classman knew my uncle (and him molesting me), so that made me fresh meat! So, the world was a scary place for me, and as a result, I lived most of my teen years in isolation. Now some would say that I had no reason to be anxious during that time, if only you knew. Now that I'm an adult, I still have to face these fears, just in a different way. One of my first jobs out of college was working as a teller at a bank. I was written up mainly because I didn't gossip with the co-workers. The write-up did indicate that I dressed professionally, I was never rude to my co-workers or to customers and I did my job in excellence. But it was the one negative thing that was harped on. And truthfully, that was my life at home. Never mind the good things I did, it would be the one thing that was harped on. In fact, during my 5th grade year (this was the year of my molestation), my grades were average - wasn't failing in any subject, but my behavior was atrocious. My parents didn't know about the molestation, but they sure harped on my behavior and bypassed my grades. As an adult, I struggle with social situations. One of my dear friends said to me that she could spot me out in a group photo, which is usually buried in the back to myself. And truthfully, that's due to my inner anxiety. Now some would say, just come out my shell. It's easier said than done. But not to worry, I will journal more as I am on the path to healing from the anxiety that Aspergers brings.

Blessings,

The Mayne Man

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