Grief
It’s different for everyone.
Entire cultures have been known to grieve in different ways, respect varying and understanding paramount.
Some cultures don’t even speak about the death until a year has passed, giving each persons necessary space to emotionally regulate.
Being autistic is a totally different experience.
They say in indigenous cultures the word for autism means, ‘walking in their own space and time.’
One thing I have as an autistic woman, is a phenomenal memory and a tendency to notice what is ‘out of place. Whether by energy or visually obvious.
It may take a decade or more sometimes to place it all together, but awareness and intuition are effective tools to add to my processing. It allows me to have a view into truth in ways that scare others.
Im also gifted by God, with dreams that are psychic and a mind that can’t be played.
I’ve developed and mastered myself beyond the incredibly intelligent spirit I was born with.
I’m 38. I’ve been through much in life.
I’ve lost many people and had multiple views of grief.
I’ve noticed that neurotypical people, as a whole, view themselves as far superior, to the rest. They think that because they act and react certain ways, everybody should be the same.
It’s annoying.
While I spent my life being made fun of, for talking to animals, insects, stars, nature, loved ones that aren’t there, the sea and my surroundings, made fun of for my belief in aliens or other life;
I thought those around me were narcissistic for thinking they were the most intelligent life and only speaking to their species, even then, with a narrow view of who should be included.
Yesterday was my brother’s birthday.
He was born from my Dad’s first marriage and he lived with us only until I was 7. He was 7 years older than me.
I adored my brother, I looked up to him, I felt safe around him and even though he made fun of me and thought I didn’t notice, I loved him.
Yesterday was his birthday and I guess this is the second year he has been dead.
I only know that because of Facebook and what my family told me.
I hadn’t seen him for a decade and before that, it was sporadic and few, at best.
I figured someday or some existence above, we would know what we needed of each other.
Yesterday I spoke to my brother as if he were here. I do that with the dead, or the living, or the in between.
Then I saw it was his birthday. I feel for his family most of all, his closer family, his kids. I feel for our shared father, my dad.
I felt like I saw him over the winter, my brother.
I sort of think of it as, he’s just busy with his life, loving his family and being himself. Alive and well.
In some ways it’s true, isn’t it?
I believe in an afterlife, a greater cosmic intelligence, a heaven.
I believe in angels. In God. Though I used to say, ‘The Universe.’
Wouldn’t it be stranger to think, only people on a dying planet, constantly at war with each other, not even connected to their own galaxy, are most intelligent?
After I was hit in my spine and crippled, I had to mourn a lot in my own personal life. Alone. With my dog as my on,y companion.
I had to consider that a t7-10 spine hit, may have changed my ability to ever have children.
I had to consider a t7-10 spine hit, may take away my dreams.
I had to consider a t7-10 spine hit may have ruined my chance at ever having another love relationship.
I spent most of the time believing I could heal.
It happened May 10, 2020
I didn’t sleep at night for over a year.
I laid in bed and told myself I slept 8 or 9 hours (something I never did, even pre spine injury)
I would play the keys 
I would read, or sing, or pray. I would beg God to ‘give me my body back, help me heal.’
I would internalize the abuse and rape I survived, I thought it was somehow my fault or karma.
I then realized, sometimes, what happens to you is another person’s earned bad karma, not yours.
A man or woman hitting me, raping me, harming me, isn’t MY earned karma, it’s theirs.
I was very productive in that time and very connected to God, to Spirit, to Other.
I was walking in a place of existence that was between the living and dead.
I was dying of autonomic dysreflexia.
I was processing the abusive relationship I endured for four years.
I was trying to forgive myself for staying long enough for him to cripple me.
I’m still working on that.
Just a few eight months into it, I spoke with my ex on the phone who is from Saudi.
After this, helicopters followed me, my mri was covered up via coding, causing my medical torture (dying from autonomic dysreflexia due to blunt force trauma to the spine) I was harassed and sprayed with nervine, used as a scapegoat and a short time after that call, a kid I used to care for died in a fire.
A fire that sent lots of emotions through me.
This is a child whose mother I stopped being friends with for moral reasons of my own. A child I lived with for a short time to help his mother. A child that I gave honey and cinnamon to in the night, for his cough, the next day he said he thought I was his mom.
A child that my dog interacted with similar to how she interacted with me. A child who I left my dog with, MY furry child with, when I studied in India, knowing how much he loved her and she him.
A child I hadn’t seen since he was a CHILD, in 2015.
I was flooded with emotions immediately.
I hadn’t slept the night before and spent most of it praying, singing, playing piano and painting. I prayed at 3am for an hour, doing my alter devotionals. I went to work at the daycare.
I got a text about his death. I was ANGRY with God. How dare he take such a wonderful young life, while mine was slowly ending and I didn’t want it.
My reaction was immense anger and grief.
The woman who told me, was the ONLY person in our small area to say she knew how close we were. Knew I would want to know and that she hoped I was ok.
My co-worker, without my permission, got my shift covered.
I would have made myself stay at work, otherwise.
I went home to a parking lot filled with cars.
The therapists who rented the downstairs and the land surveyor who used the apartment next door, were all busy.
I wanted to RAGE at God.
I got my dog and we went to our favorite mountain.
After the spine hit, I went from hiking three to five times a week to only being able to hike 3 times total, in the four years since & With a walking stick. Hiking to me means Mountain. Not forests.
I was angry and sad.
I felt like I didn’t like God at all, right then.
I felt betrayed.
How dare he take a life like that!
My elderly blind dog and I, with my ambulatory spinal cord injury, hit the trail. I falling down because of my injury, her going cliff side because of her blindness and me not able to always have her on leash because of my injury.
What a misfit team we became.
I was blinded by grief.
I went on what can only be described as a shaman communion, with all spirits. I needed to make sense of it all. It didn’t fit. It just didn’t.
Shaman communion to me does not include drugs.
I was using a conservative amount of medical marijuana for a spinal cord injury after a significant time period between recreational use and medicinal use, in a State (Maine) where it was also recreationally legal.
After that short weekend that went on forever in my heart, I decided emotionally he was alive.
I dreamt he got out a window, made it to his dad, and was safe.
I still feel that way. It’s 2024.
I went to a graveside memorial for him October of 2021. Still attempting to grieve through my own life and many real challenges.
It was the first or second moment since first hearing about it, I really allowed myself to think he may be dead…….
Because just like with my brother, how do I really know?
I had to put my dog to sleep in February of 2023.
She had advanced Cushings and also dangerous people were tormenting me and her. She was poisoned one week before my brother’s death. She threw up everyday for a month. Finally she puked up a ball of MY hair. The hair I cut for the revolution in Iran. The hair I brought to the sea that ended up in our yard area covered in something, for her to eat.
When I called Peaceful Passages, I was not ready for my companion and only child, my furry child, to be gone. We had been together from the time she was 6 weeks until she was almost 12 years old. She was with me through so much.
I carried her lifeless body down the stairs, alone, placing her into a strangers car.
I will never be able to say goodbye to her fully. I walk to the top of the hill where I can see the mountains that she and I hiked for years, wondering If she can see me. It’s my ambulatory exercise and my emotional health and well being.
I think of her all the time.
September of 2023, I left on foot with a walker and spinal cord injury, with her paw print, alone. 
I brought her paw print with me to Peru 
South America and back alone. I dumped her ashes at her favorite beach, Lucia beach, alone.
I see Boston Terriers and feel excited and so sad.
Sadness. Grief. Autism!
Ahhhhhhhh
After I lost schoolmates growing up rapidly, they died of drug use; (I don’t think anyone realizes how fortunate I am to not have had an addiction problem! I wanted to share why I thought that was in sun attempt to SAVE our youth here! It’s real and the issue, isn’t the drugs!)
I didn’t process death the same after that, I tried to be there for the people, I thought, had a better claim to grief.
How selfish I was to grieve for someone when their parents or partner lost a loved one. It’s how I felt.
After I lost my friend, a woman I spent everyday with, for almost a year, a woman I loved greatly and felt cosmically connected to. When she spoke of us being friends in old age, being companions, I could see it.
She died in a car crash. Allegedly.
We were always together.
If I hadn’t quit the strip club the few weeks before, we would have been together.
I hated I survived.
Hated I was without her.
My initial response was immense grief, cursing God.
Or what at the time I referred to as ‘The Universe’
After blunt force trauma to the spine I said, GOD.
Finding out about my friends, a woman like a sister, her car accident, I drove to her in a coma.
I cried. I spoke to her.
I loved her.
I wished her awake.
The night before she died, it felt like she said all the things she needed to, but I didn’t.
I didn’t tell her what she meant to me.
Did she know?
I told her telepathically, holding her hand, while she was in a coma.
She was taken off life support 9 days later.
Was it enough time? Too long? Too short?
There was a memorial at the car accident site.
It got taken down.
I left wind chimes.
They were taken down.
I made gardens. Mini ones. With glow in the dark, solar powered, dragonflies.
I went there and gardened and spoke to her.
Then I went across the street to Moose Point State Park, where her and I went together with her daughter.
My dog loved it there too. My furry child.
My friend died 18 years ago.
The Summer after it happened I used to sit by the lake, on the rocks, in lightning storms. Crying and missing her.
18 years.
I still tell myself, she is alive.
And she is.
On some level of existence.
I thought to myself through this experience, that maybe some of our loved ones, some celebrities too, had to go be in witness protection, until logical people can put an end to this corruption that causes so many deaths.
Maybe part of the reason countries have a cloaking policy, is to keep those safe, who like me, won’t pick sides when it comes to human beings and knows that eventually the right people will team up and make sure there is never human trafficking or forced prostitution at our ports. That drug relations become matured and the government acknowledges the truth, making it safer for us all and instead of having people with too much money and power, want to play Jesus, we can have logic.
Balance.
Mediation.
As a woman who isn’t an addict, isn’t a dealer and isn’t in government, I speak up about the truth, to make it safer for everyone, with logical solutions.
Solutions others and their families would want, to make it safer for all Ports.
Is my friend alive cloaked somewhere?
Is she in heaven?
Either way, someday we will meet again.
I will meet those who I need to, again.
My understanding of universal consciousness is expansive.
To understand human consciousness and spiritual awakening, the most ascended among you have claimed and taught that, some level of hertz light is a high spirit consciousness.
My guides told me that I was at 8 billion megahertz of light, back when I was only 35.
Compared to stars in the galaxy or planets, it’s low light.
Compared to ascended human consciousness, it is an apocalypse of what was once known.
I Could have been the triumph of good over evil, or the very least, ascension.
That light is growing within me and can expand in each moment.
People observing me, without my consent, believed me to be micro dosing, when I was just being myself. Evidently many on earth needed a psychoactive substance to understand me. Once I became crippled from blunt force trauma, I guess I looked more out of place…….
I could have been teaching much, especially in this time.
Instead I was tormented, bullied, used, medically tortured, psychologically tormented (or their predictable and unascended attempts at it) I pray none of you walking this earth need to attempt to grieve the way you allowed for me, with your cruel intentions.
Autism
The ability to see the bigger picture, therefor tolerating less BS than otherwise would, even if it’s too late for the fools to know you know, and STOP.
It’s ok, read it again.
Grief and Autism
The different styles of grieving being so uncomfortable to those who are neurotypical and therefor, believe themselves superior to the rest of us, being so drastically different, that they look like fools to us, who are genuine; arrogant to us who are just trying our best and guilty to those of us who can put together pieces rapidly, once we have enough sensory information and can safely process.
Autism and Trauma
The ability to shock others at what we have lived through and survived.
Making sense of PTSD symptoms too late for others liking, by a decade, but on time for us.
We LIVED through hell, select mute and when we say we need help, it’s SERIOUS
Do our emotions affect the weather or land?
Cosmic consciousness?
Do you believe in Magick? Or Ascension? Evolution?
Autism, are we odd, or are we the future?
The difference between my spinal cord injury and autism is huge. They both affect me.
They both affect me differently.
My spinal injury is life threatening.
Autism is dangerous because I have delayed processing.
Autism is dangerous because I know all the things they don’t want known.