Thursday, 25 April 2013

Exclusion

I am wise.  I am smart.  I am confident.  I am capable.
I am well aware that I can also be "different."  I know it's "different" that I love to run around outside and I don't feel free unless I'm flapping my arms.  I know it's "different" that I have to force myself to make eye contact, and oftentimes I choose not to, because it's easier for me.  I know it's "different" that some textures disgust me and I have a physical aversion to yogurts and apple sauce and other "mushy" food.  I know it's "different" that, when I'm stressed, I pace and repeat words that I like the sound of.  I know it's "different" that sometimes my best friends see my Autistic behavior and feel the need to ask "Hey, have you taken your medication today?" as if they're helping me, as if it's something I could have forgotten, or as if taking my cocktail of six pills every night keeps my Asperger's toned done enough to make my company tolerable.
What I want to say to the world right now is that, despite the differences you sometimes perceive in me, I am a good friend.  You wouldn't like me if I wasn't.  You wouldn't have chosen to be my friend if I was as terrible as you sometimes seem to think I am.
Two friends are having going through difficult times right now and are not sharing with me.  I feel left out.  I am usually someone that people come to with their problems and now, I am having a very hard time feeling accepted by the people who are supposed to love me most.  I don't have a lot of friends, but that's not because I'm bad at friendship.  I am a good friend.  I like to help my friends.  I want to help my friends.
I might not be the best at helping, but I want the opportunity.  I want to try.  I want to learn how to be helpful. I want my friends to at least give me a chance.
This situation reminds me that, even the people who should be the most enlightened, sometimes still see my autism as a liability.
I hate this feeling.  I hate feeling like I'm being excluded because of my neurochemistry.