The joy and exhaustion of living with neurodiverse people.
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That experience burned me out.
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Before I sit down at our little kitchen table, I grab the battered red and white composition book from the top drawer of the dresser. Clutched in my…
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On a freeway in the dark, I drove a car toward my husband with the sound of the ocean spilling across the emptiness inside.
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introducing the real me.
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On the sprite I gave birth to becoming more herself.
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I never stop feeling ridiculously grateful that we live on this island and in this house. It’s not an especially big or fancy house. But it is filled…
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I can fumble around and try, with a bunch of adjectives, like I have been in my mind. Incredible. Exhausting. Revelatory. Chaotic. Joyful. Hard…
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And it pisses me off.
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It looks perfect, doesn’t it? One child kneeling on the floor, her legs suddenly long and feet nearly full-grown. And yet, she still wants to…
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And a little bit of wooziness.
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I blew it. Was it the altitude in Breckenridge—nearly 10,000 feet—that meant I had less oxygen going to my brain? Every time we go to Danny’s hometown…
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