An Autistic’s Thoughts on Moving Out For the First Time

Setting the Scene

My dad and step mom had us gather in the living room. My anxiety habitually skyrockets. But I calm myself down quickly knowing it’s not going to be as bad as I think. Besides, I’m sure my step mom is way more anxious than I am.

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I can’t remember the conversation exactly, but I do remember asking several questions along the lines of: do I get a choice in whatever this is (because I’m a control freak that hates decisions being made for me and I instantly rebel like some stubborn teenager when that does happen)? No, but yes when it comes to specifics. Hmmm, ok. Do I have time to process and prepare? Yes. Ok, I can work with that.

As my step mom talks about how she’s been worrying about how my sister and I would take well, whatever it was, my mind does it’s own thing and eliminates the possibilities of what this could be about. I’m on top of my chores. I have a good stable job that I love. I haven’t pissed anyone off in the last little while, nor have I had any angry shutdowns.

The Reveal

Finally, my step mom says she is making us move out. She knew someone my age with a roommate that needed a place by September and it’ll be the perfect opportunity for…