A Day in the Mind of Courtney

  Yesterday, we spent the day with Calvin’s family, and for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t just going through the motions. I wasn’t a shell of a person. I smiled. I laughed. I lived. Living with agoraphobia, it’s hard to find those moments when I don’t feel trapped—when I don’t feel like I’m hiding behind walls I’ve built with my own two hands. But yesterday was different. Surrounded by people who accepted me for who I am, I could just be. No pretending. It wasn’t about fitting in or being “good enough.” It was about being seen. I didn’t have to worry about my anxiety creeping in, or that familiar fear of not measuring up. I didn’t have to hold my breath, waiting for something to feel wrong. I could just exist in the moment. I wasn’t smothered by the number of people in each room. I had an appetite—something I often lose when my anxiety takes hold. I didn’t feel the pressure, the panic, or that overwhelming discomfort in my own skin—the feeling that I don’t belong, which s...

I’m not all that great, Many times I’ve met my fate. I’ve been labeled “disabled.” I’d face the world, if only I was able. I try to be normal, I try to fit in, But normal doesn’t fit— It never feels like a win. My body feels strange, My chest gets tight, My head and heart are always in a fight. I’ve learned to hide my stripes, Painting them black and white. I live in fear of scaring you away— So many I’ve loved have left anyway. I’m stuck in this strange headspace, Suddenly feeling like I’m out of place. Exiled, cut off, like I don’t belong, Living in plain sight, yet feeling so wrong. I’m caught on a spectrum, all by myself. No one relates—I can’t share the wealth. It’s like a radio frequency no one hears, Drowning, gasping, lost in my fears. I pray no one speaks my name, Screaming inside, “Don’t look my way.” I want to be near, but I live life in fear— So I’ll keep my distance and swallow my tears. I was raised to believe I was broken a tad, And maybe that’s why I’ve gone a bit mad....

 I spent most of my life not knowing I was autistic. I just thought I was different. I didn't have the words to explain why certain things overwhelmed me to the point that I would short circuit. or why it constantly felt like I was on a different "radio frequency" than everyone else, no matter how hard I tried I was always saying the wrong thing. I will always be slightly socially awkward. Fitting in for me  feels kind of like wearing clothes two sizes too small- uncomfortable, and wrong. I masked my quirks, my stims, and the little things that made me me because I thought I had to. I thought blending in was the only way to survive. As a child, I hid my stimming and tried to suppress behaviors that others might find "odd." I didn't want to be the one who stood out, even though I felt like I was constantly on the outside looking in. I struggled with things that seemed easy for others- following routines, memorizing steps, and understanding social cues. I push...