Weakness and Strength

Many of us believe that when we are at our lowest mood, our lowest level of energy, we are being weak. Others in our society often reinforce this, beating us down when all we want is a helping hand. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve had “take a teaspoon of cement, princess” thrown at me in various forms. Never once did it help to have someone tell me to harden up or suck it up. In fact, it usually made me feel worse, because it made me feel like I was weak. But you know something? I’m not weak. I am strong.

There are days when I have no energy to clean the house. There are days when I’m so tired that I sleep in until midday. There are days when I feel so low that someone commenting on how I sneeze will bring me to tears. I seem weak. But I am strong.

I am strong because I’ve lived life as an individual on the Spectrum who, without a diagnosis, has never understood why they’re different. I am strong because I have learned how to manage my differences without even realising that’s what I’m doing.

I am strong because even though the people around me have never understood why I am who I am, who have always tried to have me be ‘normal’, I have remained who I am. I never changed myself to suit them, even when that meant I was ostracised by others my age.

I am me. I need dim lighting because too much light hurts my eyes. Those eyes are not weak; they are so strong that they need a rest. I need to have music and over-ear headphones to concentrate because my ears are so strong that I can hear someone sniffling down the hall and halfway across another room, and it’s loud enough to be distracting.

I am me. I may not get out and socialise the way others do, parties and clubs and so forth, but I have a social life online. I speak to these people more often than most people do to their “real life” friends.

I am me. My day-to-day memory is often lacking, but put me in a game I haven’t played for 5 years and I’ll still remember where all the hidden secrets are.

I am me. I often stumble over my words out loud, but ask me to write and I’ll talk your ears off (have I?).

My point, I suppose, is that even when we’re told we’re being weak, we need to remember that we are strong. Not just individuals on the Spectrum; all individuals. Here’s something for all the parents out there:

“Yes, I did just spend half an hour crying because someone won’t listen to me about my child’s needs. Then I dried those tears and picked my child up from school, because school was over, and my child needed me to be there.”

Remember that you are strong. You might feel weak, shaky, unhappy, tired, whatever. But you still go to work, take your child to and from school, cook meals, try to keep up with technology, offered a helping hand to that friend who feels down, said no to that drink you really wanted because you have to drive soon, whatever it might be that shows you’re still putting one foot in front of the other in your life. You are strong. And when someone tells you to take a teaspoon of cement, even if you’d never say so aloud, remember where they can put that teaspoon, because you’ve faced difficulties they can’t understand and still lived to tell the tale.