Hayward's Reach

NaShoStoMo #26 - Autism's Arrow

              When I was growing up, I learned early that I was not like other kids.

              I did not like the same things they did, did not want to engage in the same activities. They loved to play together and I could not wait to be alone. It wasn't that they were bad or anything, they were just too loud, they wanted to touch me far too often and ask me too many questions I didn't want to answer.

              Back then, they just called me retarded.

              My senses were superhumanly acute and still are. Lights are too bright, sounds too loud. My senses overwhelmed my mind and basically left me stunned for seconds after any sensory assault. I could hear the arguments my mother and father had through my door and theirs even across the house. 

              They assumed I could not hear them. 

              He hated me for being so different. Not at all what he expected. I wasn't going to be a football player, or able to play any kind of sports. I would be lucky if I could cross the room without falling down. He said it far too regularly. 

              I hated him for it.

              I could hear conversations between my mother and my teachers about my appearance of retardation and the limits of the educational system to effectively help me to develop. I could smell the terrible perfume my school principle wore that left a trail to me for hours after she had past by. 

              I could smell it for hours. 

              It overwhelmed me and left me dizzy and nauseous. People would think I was crazy if a highly perfumed person would walk by and I would be frozen like a deer in the headlights. I also remember the smell of my third grade teacher, Mrs. Levy. There was something about her scent that focused my attention and reduced my stress levels. I later learned it was lavender and jasmine scents that did not overwhelm my senses or my mind.

              My sense of taste was one of the worst, it was so sensitive I couldn't stand to eat. 

              Bitter things tasted like batteries, sour things felt as if my tongue was being set on fire. Half the time, the smell of food made me want to throw up, but other times, the taste of some food was so good, I could not stop eating, even if I wanted to. 

              I did note that some of the foods that provoked such a strong reaction I was deathly allergic to, such as crab and lobster. To this day, I barely touch them no matter how delicious everyone around me tells me they are. I craved the taste of salt. Nothing was ever too salty for me. Salt and vinegar ships were my secret craving for almost two decades until I learned how dangerous sodium was.

              I was especially susceptible to sweets. 

              Sugar felt like an explosion in my mouth and it made my entire body tingle for minutes. Even as an adult I have to monitor my sugar intake because I still have a strong reaction to anything sweetened. Strangely enough, artificial sugars make me sick as a dog. I can taste them in a single mouthful of anything.

              I could hear things in my head and I realized I was the only one hearing them. 

              I could hear the radio that was playing in the car on my way to school. I could hear every song, every commercial, for the entire period we rode to school. Fortunately, the entire trip only took ten minutes because for the rest of the day, I could hear that same ten minutes over and over again, blocking out all other interactions with people unless they were annoyingly persistent.