Happy [Expletive Deleted] Easter…

Welcome to Easter. One of those days classified as a holiday. One of those days filled with confusion, and chaos for me. Where I wonder if everyone ate an entire container of Nutella, and washed it down with a liter of white whiskey. Where I wonder, “What the fuck happened to everyone?”

Easter, where everyone dresses up funny, and goes to church. Even people who don’t go to church any other day of the year. Even people who don’t ever dress up, for any reason. And suddenly, every church parking lot overflows with cars, and church goers are show off new dresses, new suits, new shoes, and new haircuts.

Easter, where suddenly everyone starts saying, “Have a Happy Easter!”

And I end up hiding in my house, waiting for the insanity to end, wondering why people think I’m nuts when I don’t become someone I’m not on Easter Sunday. When I wonder if the guy who said, “Happy Easter!” to my trans woman friend means it, or is just being nice. When I wonder how he’s so kind to her one day a year, when the rest of the year he wishes she didn’t exist, and wonders how I can talk with her at all.

Easter Sunday, when Christians celebrate Jesus’ Resurrection, and how his blood washed away their sins. Then turn around on Monday, and declare, “Fag! I’m not selling you anything in my store! You people make me sick!”

Easter Sunday, where everyone does egg hunts, or does a gift exchange thing involving oceans of chocolate, and cards, and makes more of those things called good memories, as if they can’t make good memories on other days.

Easter Sunday, where countless stores that would be open for business on any other Sunday, aren’t open, and pretend it’s for the good of their employees. “We’re letting them have quality time with their families.” At least, that’s the politically correct statement businesses make. Except the ones that declare their Christian values, “Closed for Easter Sunday, because you need to go to church!”

Easter Sunday, when I wish God would protect me, because I don’t dare let anyone know I’m not having a good time. “Well, go somewhere and die, then! Don’t spoil my holiday!” And I get told, endlessly, directly, or indirectly, how I can’t be unhappy on Easter Sunday, of all days. “No matter how you feel, this is the day we celebrate being saved! Buck up, buddy boy, and get with the program!”

And my autistic self says, “What the fuck is going on with humans today? Did they all get brain transplants last night while they slept?” And I hide from life, praying for sanity to return. For normalcy to return. So people become themselves once more.

Easter Sunday. One day in a 365 day year. Just like any other day. Another Sunday, which always comes between a Saturday and a Monday.

What makes it different?

It’s a social thing, isn’t it. One of those social activities I don’t understand. Like Christmas, Labor Day, New Year’s Day, and all the rest. An event in the social calendar of the society I find myself living in.

And yes. I hear the words, every time I speak of the society I live within. “If you don’t like it, find another society, and get the fuck out of ours! We don’t need you!” But, the simple math states I would have the same problem in any given society. That’s what autism is.

So, I grit my teeth, and carry on, on a Sunday unlike all the rest, as best I can. And wait for Monday to arrive. Because I know on Monday, people will begin to behave once more, like they do every day, except on Easter Sunday, or the other holidays. Because I know, on Monday, people will be themselves once more. And I won’t have to hide inside, and wonder what the fuck happened to everyone.

Wishes : Happy Holiday

I worked tonight.
Until the store closed.
At 2100 hours last night.
And as I sit here,
Looking at the clock,
I know it’s now
Sunday morning.

Although it’ll be dark
For another 6
Or 7 hours
Or so.

But it occurs to me
That it’s been a while
Since I’ve made a wish
Of any kind at all.

And I’m going to change that
Right now.
On this Sunday morning
I just can’t think
Of anything at all
That I’d rather do.

One week from today
It will be December 25th.
Christmas Day.

There’s something that I’ve always wanted
My entire life.
And I’ve never figured out
How to get it.
I’ve always wanted
To have a happy holiday
On Christmas.

It’s something
I can’t remember
Ever really having.

But, you know.
In the past year I’ve learned
How very much
I can decide
To be happy,
And enjoy the holiday.
Just because I want to.

It’s been a rough year
That I’ve just come through.
One filled with change.
And I’ve learned
So very many things.

I’ve always said
That everything’s a choice.
That I have to decide
To get up every morning.
The choice is mine to make
If I go to work that day
Or just stay at home.

But in this past year
I’ve learned
I can decide
To be happy,
Or sad.
Angry,
Or glad.

It’s all a choice
You know.

And, dang-it.
I’m tired of being frustrated.
And angry.
And I’m tired
Of being sad.
And blue.
And depressed too.

So, I’ve decided
That this year
I’m going to enjoy
The holiday.
And have a good time
Celebrating
The year that I’ve been through.
And all the friends I’ve made.
And so very many people
That I’ve met.

Oh, the gifts
That life has given me
This year.

And I’ve decided too,
That I’m going to make a wish
For all of you.

May you decide to have
A happy holiday
Too.

I know I’m going to.
And I find
I can’t wish
Any less
For you.