Hi All,
The meeting with my social worker and my friend, took place on Friday 7/7/17.
The experience led me to write the following piece, (Yesterday)
I am learning everyday. This is for You. (Today)
My Space My Time.
(Removed by moderator)·SUNDAY, 9 JULY 2017
This is why there are tears in my eyes,
Because I have only now, come to realise,
How uniquely, we all hypersensitise,
With me it Bee’s, Wasp’s, and particularly Flies,
Two other adults were sat with me at the table,
Neither of them though, were at all able,
To hear the noise that made me unstable,
My behaviour was like one, who has a label,
The buzzing of the Fly was hurting my ears,
Driving me to distraction, but no one else hears,
My reaction is one of those irrational fears,
It has been this way for dozens of years,
Can’t you hear it? I excitedly shout,
Hear what? What are you talking about?
That supersonic buzzing from the Fly’s mouth,
What sound What Fly? They begin to doubt,
What am I saying, what is happening to me?
Is this man losing is grip on reality?
Is he psychotic, is this a bout of insanity?
Then I point to the Fly, they finally see,
So now they know I am not insane,
I explain the buzzing is causing me pain,
The ringing tinnitus alone, is enough for my brain,
My poor stinging ears are under so much strain,
The Fly has gone, normality will resume,
Most people in reality that is what they assume,
But in my head the noise continues to boom,
Long after it has gone, it’s echo’s fill the room,
So the conversation turns to being hypersensitive,
And how in reality it is a strange place to live,
People nowadays are being proactive,
Normal Sight, Sound and Touch are all relative,
My understanding has grown in that space and time,
I thought I was alone, and this Autism was mine,
What will tomorrow bring? what will I find?
Who will help me sing, how strange is the mind?
I am a little wiser now because of that Fly,
Truth has to be told, silence was the lie,
So as these words get old, and I want to cry,
I try to be bold, pupil and iris stay dry,
It is in my hear and now, found in the who and how,
Anxiety wants to rule me, but I refuse to bow,
I will always be silk, for never was I sow,
This is the cream, from a well fed-cow.