This morning I posted a blog entitled guardians. I was going to share another cure for autism blog instead, but I couldn’t. It was too hard. I am feeling anxious and unsettled today. That feeling you would feel if you were driving along the road and you hit a dog. Your stomach drops, something is wrong. Acid reflux. My stomach burns. I can’t eat without feeling nauseous. 

I spent the first two decades of my life in hell. I spent the next decade looking at other people’s lives and thinking about how wrong things were in my first two decades. I spent the last decade trying to forget about it. A new decade, what shall I do with it? Make peace with my past, it seems. Face my demons. 

Every time I tell you a story, I feel those raw feelings again. This morning I felt angry. Angry that people who were supposed to be supportive walked away. Is it my brother’s fault that he is autistic? My mom’s? Mine? I can understand if you can’t handle it. We couldn’t either, but we had too. Living with a violent autistic brother was no walk on the beach. We didn’t want it. Matt did not want it either. If you are looking for a Special Olympics success story, look elsewhere. What you will find is a raw story of what life was really like. 

Irrational worry? A lot of my irrational fears have already happened.