"I hate my life! I hate my life! I want to get out! I want all of this to end!" I screamed angrily into my pillow. It was not a loud scream, but a soft one with all the ferociousness and intensity from my body of a loud one... I do not have the privilege of letting out my frustrations for the neighbor and their dog to hear.
Today I went out with family! Mom found my sister who was missing for months, and we decided to celebrate. She was not hurt, she was a bit dirty and looked like she had been hiding on the streets and stuff. Mom is gonna take her to get checked, and get her new clothes and stuff, and get her set up with an apartment!
For the first time in my life, I can feel myself aging.
The closing of the year 2018 could not come soon enough. It had been a good year. It had been a challenging year. It had been a year of tremendous highs and of deep and sorrowful lows.
Pop-culture glorifies the autism spectrum disorder. In mainstream media, it’s as if autism is merely a socially awkward disorder compensated for by gifted genius. Think Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man, Sheldon Cooper in The Big Bang Theory, and Benedict Cumberbatch in everything. Admittedly, Rain Man is a good movie and The Big Bang Theory is my favourite guilty pleasure—not ashamed… okay, a little ashamed—but autism is grossly misrepresented in these depictions, at least in my experience.
"We've detected some neurological defects in your child that will follow him or her into their lives, have you thought about termination of the pregnancy?"
My older sister and I were never close, in fact, she was a terrible sister. We are seven years apart, so I tried my best to fit in with her. She used to try and suffocate me since I was small, and she'd beat me, along with so much more.
Everyone torments their younger siblings. We do it because we can. We do it because it's fun. But mostly, we do it because we hate having to share everything with them, especially blame. It doesn't mean we're vicious monsters, though.
I wonder if he knew I was coming. I don’t expect he did. In the villages of the forties, babies came and went with the harvesting of cabbages, the arrival of Doctor O’Dowd, the cackle of storks. Poor Johnny—lifted smartly like a chess piece from his unassailable position, to be dropped into second place—the classic case of checkmate. There are photographs of the two of us, mere months later, in the spring sunshine. His quirky Norman Wisdom smile resting on my Shirley Temple curls.
There are very many people who were the third born, but when it comes to those sibling videos, they are always about two siblings and never three. Here are a few things to keep in mind about the youngest sibling, this list does not apply to everyone it is mostly a personal preference, but maybe it can teach you a few things.
2005 was the hardest year for my family and I. Being a little girl and losing the world you once knew is something you can’t quite grasp unless you’ve lived it. I remember we were sitting in the living room watching the news the night before Katrina hit. We were honestly contemplating staying and riding it out because they only classified it as a category two hurricane... good thing we left! I remember mom'soms boyfriend at the time screwing big wooden planks on the front and back door just for support even though we didn’t think we’d need it. I remember packing up my mom's Honda Pilot with a bag of clothes for only a few days.