When I was a young girl, I would sit for hours when the world overwhelmed me, colouring in, building puzzles and reading. Isolating myself, it would just be me and my thoughts. My imagination would run wild, as I pondered stories. Stories, songs, scenes, and settings of the pictures, would occupy my mind. As time passed, as I got older, these stories became alive within me. I had created a new world in which I could hide. Isolated from reality. When I was eleven years old I took it to the extreme... I lived there. I lived in a fantasy world, and so to stay there, I would go to bed early (18:00 instead of 20:00) and wake up early, (03:00am instead of 07:00am) hiding from my family. As my epilepsy rapidly got out of hand, I then tried to justify my behaviour to my doctor, Dr T Aduc. Dr Aduc did not approve of my new sleeping arrangements, neither did my parents, however I did not care... So for two years I lived like this.
For two years I isolated myself, avoiding the truth of my circumstances, and situation. Fighting with anyone and everyone who prevented me from entering my hiding place. In my world I was the heroine, could do anything, be anyone, be loved by everyone, with no health restraints. I was myself,(with no health issues), I was Veronica Baily (a runaway from home), I was Nikita Grouban (a genius accomplishing qualifications beyond her years), I was Angel, (a overprotected middle child of twelve), and lastly but not least, I was Nadine Douglas (a technology genius). All these characters had three things in common; firstly they were skilled fighters, both physically as well as mentally. Secondly they only fought to protect the people them loved, as well as those who could not protect themselves. And thirdly none of them allowed their circumstances to hold them back, or prevent them from accomplishing anything... Hypocritical right? coming from a girl hiding in the safety of her own mind?
My Parents suffered... the fact of the matter is that in reality; I had gone through puberty early, but neglected my hygiene. Education had to stop for the two years, while this was taking place. Many of our friends and family neglected us during this time. Communication was challenging, my parents tried and tried, but their words would fly over my head unreachable. It was a living hell for us all, my sanctuary had consumed me Until one day, as I hugged my father my father goodnight he gently stated that he loved me... And I heard him... It was at that moment, after hearing my father's voice and trying multiple medications that I finally came out of my "trans".
I'm not saying that it wrong to colour in pictures or build puzzles. I still do, I still colour, and even enter my imaginary world from time to time. However it is no longer a coping strategy... It is where my creativity now lies. As I sit here reflecting on the past I realize it was a communication problem. I did not have the courage to explain to my parents that I was struggling with harsh emotional cruelties. I thought that because I was the eldest, I had to put on a brave face, solving these difficulties myself. Now that I am older I realize communication is key. In situations like this, open, honest, sensitive, and loving conversation is important. Please remember that whether a person has autism or epilepsy, whether they are in a "trans for two years or twenty years, we can still hear, see, and process things around us. It is communication alone that we struggle with. Yet hope is on the horizon, as courage soon reveals itself (as in my case) we soon recover, returning to our normal selves.Farther advances in medical research are arising for those with more severe cases. It is our job to never give up, keeping hope and courage close to our hearts as we continue along our individual journeys. Stay in touch, stay in communication.
