For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt lost—like I was drifting through life without a true sense of who I am. I wore a mask every day, molding myself to fit society’s narrow picture of what a “normal” person should be. I hid the parts of me that felt different—the way I stimmed, my social awkwardness—by watching others and learning how to blend into the crowd. Standing out felt dangerous, so I did everything I could to disappear in plain sight. Growing up, I didn’t understand why I acted the way I did. I just knew I was “weird” and “different,” and those words stung deeply. Bullies called me the R-word—something I hate to even think about—trying to strip me of my dignity and identity. I internalized those insults for years, believing I was broken or less than. Then, in April of this year, something shifted. I was diagnosed with autism. That diagnosis didn’t change who I am—it didn’t magically fix all my struggles or erase years of pain. But it gave me something priceless: a name for...

Choosing the Hard Path There comes a time in your life where you have to make the hard decision: do I keep going down the path I’m on just because it’s familiar? Or do I take the path that might actually help me—no matter how unknown or scary it feels? That was where I was a couple of months ago when I finally decided to get assessed for autism. When I started seeing a therapist again. When I met with a psychiatrist for the first time. When I began taking an SSRI and anxiety meds—ones that, if I didn’t truly need them, could have seriously harmed me. Let that sink in. But here I am. It’s August 2nd, 2025. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d live to see this day. And nearly didn’t—more than once. One of those times was by my own hands. I know, right? Messed up. But hey, I did just say I’m on meds. Dark humor helps sometimes. I want you to know—it does get easier. Not perfect. Not some magical Hollywood moment where the clouds part and you become a brand new person. That’s...

This Blog Saved Me: What Autism Means to Me Now It’s been several months since I got my autism diagnosis, and honestly, I’m still learning what that truly means. Coming to terms with it hasn’t been easy. Some days, it’s a relief—finally having language for things I’ve always felt but couldn’t explain. Other days, it feels like I’m unraveling parts of myself I didn’t even realize were tangled. My friends have supported me in ways I didn’t fully recognize until now. The little check-ins, the patience, the unspoken understanding when I go quiet or need space—it all adds up. And my mom has been a huge part of this too. She’s still learning with me, but she shows up the best she can, even when things get hard. My therapist has helped the most by simply offering a space where I don’t have to mask. I can speak openly, cry without shame, stim without judgment. Just having that space to be fully me? That’s something I didn’t know I needed until I had it. But this blog— Chronicles of a Q...