The whole world is crazy

and not me.



Sometimes I accept it's me who is different, that my ideas and world view are strange, that if I could only learn how to do things the right way, then it would all be fine.

And other times I think - I know - the whole world is crazy.

A world where people never say what they mean unless they have to but everyone is expected to know all the same. Where I must be exasperatingly slow not to know what it is they mean, what they are talking about, thinking about or doing.

A world of in-jokes I'm never going to get but where my own jokes fall flat or make people laugh - suddenly, loudly, surprised, as if they never realised I was funny.

Where if I find something funny and others don't I accept it but if they find something funny and I don't, I have to wait while they explain why it is funny and then watch them wait for me to laugh, once I get it.

And then I don't laugh because it was never funny, so I have no sense of humour.

The kind of world where I am weird for not wanting to spend time talking about soap operas, standardised testing, proper jobs and how much we all drank last weekend.

A world where they notice if you leave quietly but expect you to stay and be ignored - the grown up version of 'Play quietly! Can't you see we're talking?'

A crazy world where my manners are strange and I'm supposed to excuse the world from having any manners at all, as if I expect too much from it..

An odd world where I have to fit in enough to not be cast out, to talk to other citizens of it as if I am like them, make money, keep on going, one bright-covered foot in front of the other, attempting to take my own path while the world rushes by on the big road right next to me.

The whole world is crazy and I find myself in the middle of it every day, one foot, two foot along my little path.

Stopping sometimes at a bend, or crossroads, pausing to let another like me pass by. And for the moment we trade smiles, familiar glances. Sometimes we talk and relish the exquisite peace of meeting a like mind.

Then move on refreshed, smiling down at my little, patterned feet, one step, two step, feeling not so alone.

Amanda



 A Guide to Your Aspie

 How to talk to your Aspie



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