“I’m hot.”
“Then stick your leg out of the blankets like I do.”
“But…the MONSTERS!”

That’s the anxiety bordering on fear that I know is ridiculous, and still I can’t make myself sleep uncovered, even knowing there are no monsters that will eat me. But even harder to dodge – since the blankets protect me, after all – it that low hum of anxiety that will probably keep me on medication for the rest of my life. I recognized the anxiety years before I accepted the depression, and I accepted the depression several years before I realized I was an Aspie and got the official diagnosis from my psychiatrist.

I’m still trying to sort out healthy coping mechanisms versus the not-so-healthy ones. I wish I’d understood this growing up. I wish my parents had understood it, too. At least my son will have a decent go of it now.

Thank you for writing this.