I Didn’t Fail

Ever since we moved to Nashville, TN, my family and I have wanted to go to the zoo. Today we went. After a few hours, I ended up trying to protect myself from a possible dramatic shutdown by retiring to the car for the last 30-45 minutes of the visit.

I planned for the large number of people (on the Friday before Easter when kids were out of school). I expected the parenting duties. I expected unexpected stimuli. When I started to feel my cymbal brain ring louder than expected, it caught me off guard. 

I had planned.
I was ready.
I knew this was happening.
Why couldn’t I handle it?
Why did I fail?
I didn’t.
I didn’t.
I didn’t fail.

The process of planning for something painful requires a deliberate effort of curbing anxiety. When I get a shot, I know it’s going to suck. I know it’s going to stop. 

If I had to plan for surgery without pain meds, the work to curb the anxiety would be significantly more – the pain would almost definitely overwhelm me after sustained surgery. If I could, I’d remove the pain however I could.

The stimulation I planned for at the zoo was sustained with more intensity longer than I knew it would, and my current tools for managing the pain required me to prevent a meltdown by heading to the car. 

In purely-neurotypical company, leaving the group and going to my car to have silence and a sense of peace could be seen as inappropriate. I used to carry guilt for actions like this. 

Just like every person in the world, I’m doing my best with the tools I have.

I didn’t fail.