That sounded promising, so I went.
The entrance to the library was a sensory nightmare. I had to get past a food box hand-out at the door. I am glad someone was feeding people, but it made for a confusing sensory nightmare plus a big audience of strangers watching me trying to get information about a sensitive topic.
Inside, I struggled to make visual sense of the room. There was a table with a person at it, but no sign identifying who they were or why they were there. It used up just about my last drop of processing to get to the table.
So there I was, fidgeting, rocking, avoiding eye contact, having a really hard time of it and pretty sure it showed. “Is this the [agency] table?”
“Yes.” And they waited for me to say more.
“It said you would have information about your services?”
“What service do you need?”
Now … some of you are Autistic and some of you are parents to Autistics (and some of you are both.) So you know what I’m about to say.
I couldn’t make the words. And even if I could, I was not comfortable telling my troubles to a stranger in a very public setting.
I see now, at least somewhat, what they meant and what I was supposed to say, but in the moment, it was too much.
“What do you have?”
They rattled off a string of words faster than I could process them all– who knows? There might have been a better fit in there for me, but I managed to latch on to “mental health services.”
“Those. Mental health.”
They picked up a pamphlet, “you can call this number, and…”
“I don’t do phone,” I blurted. This should really be an expected response from someone with anxiety issues, right?
“Is there just a pamphlet I could read or something?” By now, I was hitting the end of my “spoons.”
They tried to hand me the same pamphlet. I looked at it. It was for alcoholics and addicts.
“I’m not an alcoholic,” I said, feeling lost and helpless and pretty certain the wizard had nothing in his black bag for me.
“Yes, but this phone number …”
I was sunk. It was back to the phone call. If I could have made a phone call, I would have done it already, not come to a table hoping to get information and answers about how [agency] might help me.
“Thank you,” and I took off out the door, double time, to go sit in my van where I shook and cried, getting myself together enough to drive away.