A blur of colors, lights, and sounds
People who might try to interact with me
Even though doing so would be as strange as interacting with an alien
That building stress inside me as I try to press through and do
Cackling voices, high and low, blending together, deafening
A train whistle, an automatic door, a phone ringing
People breathing, feet on tile, my heartbeat
The incessant scream in my head of
“Level 3, Level 3, Level 3”
The building stress inside me as I try to press through and do
Processes, all in perfect chaos, always in rush
Buy the card, thank the man, how do I find my train?
I can’t think, can’t do
All for the incessant scream in my head of
“Level 4, Level 4, Level 4”
If I can just get on the train before I melt down
Pressing bodies, everyone too close
Every touch is painful
I can feel them around me; I’m trapped
The scream in my head becomes audible
“TOO LOUD!” I yell.
People are staring, but I can’t see
The sounds around me have turned to light and color
The sights have turned to black
Screaming, bodies pressing, too much!
I can’t see. I’m drowning.
This article was featured in Issue 51 – School: Preparing Your Child for Transition