Part and parcel of my autism. It feels like I experienced a sensory overload at a very young age that was so intense that it blew a fuse. I live my life within an ongoing daydream, my brain constantly attempting to wrap itself around reality and failing miserably. While others can engage directly with the world and come away with something substantial and concrete, I struggle to gain access to vague impressions of snippets of things that I might be able to clumsily string together into things resembling coherent chains of thought forming a vapid model of a world that is bereft of color and depth.
Just writing this is agony; such a lengthy, drawn-out process between middleman cognitions compensating for defects peppered all over complicated by the need to describe sensations no human seems to actually experience. Anything that involves thought is exhausting, and I gravitate towards activities in which I can simply act without thinking.
