I’m still not sure what the previous shaking was, but my current shaking is due to having to subject myself to a telephone call to figure out a prescription insurance issue. The call itself went perfectly fine, and the pharmacy technician knew exactly what was happening and why and explained it clearly. None of that matters to my brain; I’m mildly traumatized by the debilitating-feeling experience anyway. People keep trying to tell me it isn’t being autistic that’s the disability it’s navigating the neurotypical world around me that’s the disability, but when it comes to the damage inflicted upon my psyche by a telephone call, that’s splitting hairs. What’s worse is that when surviving moments like this, I can’t even reward myself because that nearly always requires money, and that just sends me down a whole other rabbit hole of mental unhealth.

Author: Bix

The unsupported use case of a mediocre, autistic midlife in St. Johns, Oregon —now with added global pandemic.