Feel better about myself. And make an income with this website. I love helping others and wish I could make a living doing so.
Author: Hannah Banana
Angel wings, on my right shoulder blade.
I write well.
I am the Vine; you are the branches. Apart from Me, you can do nothing. John 15:5
Rest a while, come inside.
Mourning poison on the vine.
Sipping coffee reading news,
Propaganda, nothing new.
Story of the USA,
We used to have freedom say.
Compassion rare state of mind,
You are human, are you kind?
Anguish cause of all untruth,
Approving evil say of you?
In the dawning early light,
Right is wrong and wrong is right.
Take Me as I am
My experience as someone ‘other’ I’ve not often known how to catalog. From an early age, I’ve been drawn to books, music, words, encyclopedias, dictionaries, prose, poetry, lyrics, and the like.
I’ve been called ‘brave’ and ‘full of poise’ don’t mind her she’s ‘honest to a fault.’ I still find errors within myself. struggling with a stereotypical, skewed, distorted, and pessimistic view of who I am. I place little value because of painful experiences in my formative years when I felt free to be who I was. These negative views were expressed by my peers, church friends, and family. Not everyone was this mean or absentminded.
I need to make space to tell this story as a girl, teen, and woman with autism. I’m not someone who finds things wrong with other people ironically. Still learning how to navigate this neurotypical world for better and oftentimes worse. Still, I must at least try to reach out halfway. How will others understand if I don’t say anything? How can I expect understanding if I assume others will innately ‘get’ the way I operate? They won’t, and that does them a disservice.
Misplaced little girl, finding beauty in things others found mundane, macabre, weird, and strange. Not reacting to other females my age the way most learning ‘social graces’ would. Little China doll who’d sit too close to someone if I wanted to befriend them. Not knowing when to stop talking about my fixations and intuitively when to ask of theirs.
Some peers had the good nature to smile and nod or outright tell me ‘let’s talk about what I’m interested in now.’ I respected that and was not offended because it was a clear signal to listen to them. Many painful experiences I now see as hazing by cruel individuals who didn’t understand me nor want to.
My genuine friends were wheelchair-bound, down syndrome, and classically autistic ‘short bus kids.’ Others saw them as defective and broken throwaways. This naturally lead to ‘What is she? Perhaps they saw this as a threat? Most things that don’t make sense to growing humans until later adulthood are stigmatized, marginalized, and labeled to better deal with the growing pains and the path of least resistance.
I’ve been asked ‘what are you?’ denying personhood as a thing not worthy of ‘who are you?’ or better ‘how are you?’ Yet still, here I am attempting to make sense of myself then and now. To give oxygen, to investigate all my inexperience. The joyful, dangerous, disappointing, life-giving, and milestones throughout autism thus far.
Choosing not to look through rose or gray-tented glasses but honest lenses, digging deep within my soul, asking the hard questions but also asking those who’ve known me my entire life. What they saw and lived. Taking their point of view into my narrative creates a fuller picture.
Each hopefully in time, will allow me to exist as I rightfully am.
1 Corinthians 1:26-29 For you see your calling, brethren, that not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called. But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the mighty things; and the base things of the world and the things which are despised God has chosen, and the things which are not, to bring to nothing the things that are, that no flesh should glory in His presence.From the Bible
She reached for the stars she couldn’t find. Greg’s absence left her far behind. A breaking point had come and gone. Many sleepless nights. Toss over, restless one. Christmas songs aren’t meek or mild. Stuck within her childhood ‘Home’ Autism’s scar alone. She’s so proud of her younger brother, Now on His hand an infinity band. She admires her sister, who finished her degree. Raised two children despite her grief. How strong were her parents, to endure autism’s shame? Burns mar and scar masking her pain. Few see her translucent wheelchair, she appears OK why should they care? Yet at her core, an infinity stone. Forged from pressure, formed alone.
How Wide is Your Love?
Thank you so much, Lord. Help me keep a spirit and outlook of praise while my dad plays the news 24/7. Father God, I choose to bless my dad and encourage his heart. Help me God, I’m trying to maintain a heart of thankfulness and praise amid the pain.
I hear Your heart Hannah, I will help you. I love you so much. Shine My Peace that passes earthly understanding. Your soul needs Me, come into My Rest, Into my Peace. Take upon yourself my yoke which is light, and not burdensome.
How will they know My Children?
God quietly whispers this question to the Hearts of those who will listen and obey.
My heart is breaking as I remember how it used to be: I walked among the crowds of worshipers, leading a great procession to the House of Jesus, singing and giving thanks amid the sound of a great celebration! Psalms 42:4
I’m like a dog, because I’m loyal…kind and fearsome to strangers
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