So what if I get hit by a bus? I mused to myself, crossing my way to the gas station store. the neighborhood remained unruffled. no vehicles nearby. I didn’t anticipate any. It is, after all, Friday evening in the notorious country Israel.
The teller at the shop didn’t notice my appearance. I attempted to evade his eyes as I stroll in. if there is anything I despise is pity looks. similar to the one a co-worker gave me last year when she discovered that the quiet aspiring special education teacher actually has an autistic sibling. ‘oh she must be so fucked up in the head’ she probably though. but that was alright since I am seemingly am- that fucked up.
When I arrived at the counter, with overpriced beer and every junk I could find, I was very startled to see that the cashier was occupied with his phone and didn’t even notice me. not my hair, not my red face or my closed-off expression. nothing.
Another dark thought passed through my mind ‘I am not the center of the world, I am a tiny star so remote that no one can see me’.
I am not usually this melancholic. sincerely. at the moment I just feel so so sad. and apart. like no one will ever comprehend it.
I constantly tell myself that I should write my memoirs. the capable teacher scribbling about what it is like to work with amazing children that have autism. whatever it is like to be a sister to an adult with autism. a daughter to a very sick man and a psychologically unstable mother.
the thing is- I keep waiting to acknowledge the conclusion. anticipating that moment when I will think- ‘well, I really did it’. but what if this time was never meant to appear. what if I am continuing to fell repeatedly. what if I will never reach the “future me”. the one I aspire to be. the one with all the answers? how can I reach her?
I am a fucking amazing teacher. I grasp that. but, what if it’s not enough?
wonder Land 