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#selfquestioning
i peel myself back, looking for skin. for bone. for something warm-blooded and nameable. but there’s only mood swings - ADHD? echolalia - autism. hobbies that turn to hunger - special interests. talking too much - ADHD. talking too little - trauma. Or is that autism? flinching at softness - trauma. stimming - trauma. Or ADHD? people-pleasing - trauma. Shutting down - trauma. Or were those also autism? what isn’t accounted for? when i laugh, is it because i’m happy or because it’s the safest sound to make? when i sit in silence, is it peace or practiced disconnection? was i ever whole, or was i built out of reaction, adaptation, survival? do i still count as a person? i truly cannot tell. but if i don’t - that’s okay. because this is who i am now. a map of every exit i had to take. a body full of reroutes. a nervous system that remembers everything. even if nothing here was born purely, even if it all came from need - what’s left is, well, what I have left.
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Jul 31, 2025
Jul 31, 2025 at 12:33 PM UTC
What’s Left is Mine
It was your child too I dont understand how you can leave me broken or how you could easily turn your cheek Tell me how you can not feel the pain i would like to know so i can practice the art of feeling nothing at all
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Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 12:41 AM UTC
/What was and never will be.