En dít is waarom ik niet graag in de woonkamer zit. dacht even dat het best kon, en toen gingen huisgenoten ineens "bestaan", rondlopen en zelfs af en toe tegen me praten (i mean, come on, koptelefoon is toch een duidelijk signaal) en zelfs eten maken in de keuken. how dare they, right? so rude 🙄. en deze sensitief gevoelige autist mag nu dealen met a) being perceived, b) a space shared instead of owned, c) the smells of their dinner, d) their movements in the corner of my eye, e) the sounds they make when they move or eat, f) their general existence close to mine. And judging by the laptop and studymaterials they pulled out, they don't plan on leaving soon.
it's kinda comedic how much i'm bothered by all this. they're not doing anything wrong and yetttttttt. wish they werent heeeere
i might have been able to handle it if they hadn't made hot food that's now sending hot-food-smells through the room (throwing off the tea-vibes i had going on)
i was finally working on the assignment and now it's so much harder for stupid reasons lol. can't even try some deep breaths to try and manage this flare up of autism, cos then i'll be smelling their foooood. it doesn't smell bad, it just smells. i didn't sign up for that sensory element. it's funny in the sense that you're watching yourself go through the five stages of grief and you recognise that it's dumb, but the toddler inside you wants to have a meltdown regardless and the grasp on patience the adult you has is paperthin. all because someone else dared to exist in a shared space.
TL;DR: toddler meltdowns are so justified and only when you, yourself, feel the buildup and emotion yourself as an adult can you truly look at the next screaming toddler and be like: you poor child, you're having such a hard time. i understand.
Three words, large enough to tip the world. I remember you.