What Are Friends and What They Mean to Me Friends, to me, are the people I trust enough to actually talk to. And when I say “talk to,” I mean really talk to —the kind of conversation that costs spoons, not just the small social talk we do to survive day-to-day life. When I open up to someone, it’s sacred. I don’t do that easily. I don’t have many friends, so when I choose to share my energy with someone, I cherish those connections deeply. Miranda is probably the closest friend I have. I rely on her—maybe more than I should—but she’s always there. She’s my protector, especially at work. Sometimes, she notices I’m spiraling before I even realize it myself. John is the wise one. His advice has carried me through some really dark times. He’s like my grounding voice. Chaz may no longer be at our store, but he still checks in. His voice has a calming effect like no one else’s. He still plays an important role in my life. Mikey is like a brother. His ADHD has him all ov...

When My Body Hit Panic Mode at Work Yesterday at work, I was just standing at my counter, waiting for the next customer to walk through the door, when out of nowhere, my heart rate spiked. I don’t know what triggered it—nothing obvious set me off—but my body went straight into fight or flight. Box breathing didn’t help much. Stimming didn’t either. I felt trapped inside my own body, my pulse racing up to 130 bpm, according to my smartwatch. I was dizzy, faint, and still—I had to push through. A customer walked in right in the middle of it, and like I always do, I threw on my mask. I covered my autistic traits. I forced myself past a breaking point I should have never crossed. Worst decision I’ve made in a long time. I helped the customer anyway, even though I was falling apart inside. The second I was done, I went straight to my manager and told him I needed to sit down. Thankfully, he said okay. I asked John if he could come back early from lunch, and he did—which I’m g...