autism-and-autotune
A musical mind with recent revelations
Yeah, this really isn't my week.
Yesterday I was settling down to supper at home as my fiance told me that I wasn't going to be happy with something. Well, here goes, I thought, thinking of house issues or the fallen trees in our yard or maybe their parents had changed plans for a vacation. But it wasn't either of those things.
"Maybe an hour or so before you got home, this white truck comes up our driveway and parks really weird. The windows were tinted and I couldn't see who it was, but not one came out for...five minutes or so? The engine was turned off." My fiance went up to our other room to get a better look, and lo and behold from the white truck emerges my father. My fiance noted that the truck was positioned as if to make a quick getaway as well. "It was really scary because of the tinted windows. Does your father even have a white truck?" We didn't know if my mother had been with him--but that's usually how it goes; I'd be lured out by him only for them both to ream me.
"All he did was knock once or twice, but I think he heard me shift around upstairs. He just...knocked and then left. Though I think he may have seen me in the window afterwards because he slammed on the breaks as I stood in the window, arms crossed as he left." I was afraid and bewildered. No one is allowed to our home unannounced or uninvited for any reason, I recall writing to him in April. I was cold and shaking, anticipating punishment as my fiance told me the story.
"But he doesn't even have a white truck!" I protested. at least, such had been true nearly three years ago. "Also, what says 'I totally am not being mysterious and I have nothing to hide!' more than tinted windows?" My fiance thinks he fled because he knew I wasn't home and absolutely did not want to confront them, because he'd be chewed up and spit out. Rightfully so.
The thing is, all week I've been having an odd feeling. Like there's a confrontation or something. Or thoughts that as I do the dishes, there might be someone standing on the deck, just out of sight. And if I turned too quickly but too slowly I'd miss whoever it is. And the night before yesterday, my fiance came to bed early because they just had a bad feeling, like they might be sick. Or on edge for no reason.
Another thing is that usually before an engagement, my father would usually tell me via text or email (which would go deleted) that he'd be headed up. And of course I'd been given no warning, otherwise I would've told my significant before heading home from work. Of course, no such thing. Another attempt to blindside me. "Well if he works in a school then he should have the weekend off! Why isn't he home?"
"But he left a note," my fiance said. "He folded it a trillion times and just stuck it in the door." All the note said was, Hey [redacted]. Please call me at [number redacted]. I really need to talk to you. Love dad. What the hell's going on now? Could be anything big; could be anything small. But the only concern is that I reach out and contact is established. It matters not the reason.
*sigh*. I don't care. Since I've learned of my autism and since I've grown into recognition of my CPTSD and neglect and abuse by my parents, I just don't care. But they'll never understand that I'm my own adult; safe and in love and independent. Guys, what the hell do I do? We're talking more and more about legally getting a retraining order or something. My fiance doesn't deserve to have a nice peaceful day interrupted and spent on edge. I'm shocked and angry and...just I just don't know what to do.
Yesterday I was settling down to supper at home as my fiance told me that I wasn't going to be happy with something. Well, here goes, I thought, thinking of house issues or the fallen trees in our yard or maybe their parents had changed plans for a vacation. But it wasn't either of those things.
"Maybe an hour or so before you got home, this white truck comes up our driveway and parks really weird. The windows were tinted and I couldn't see who it was, but not one came out for...five minutes or so? The engine was turned off." My fiance went up to our other room to get a better look, and lo and behold from the white truck emerges my father. My fiance noted that the truck was positioned as if to make a quick getaway as well. "It was really scary because of the tinted windows. Does your father even have a white truck?" We didn't know if my mother had been with him--but that's usually how it goes; I'd be lured out by him only for them both to ream me.
"All he did was knock once or twice, but I think he heard me shift around upstairs. He just...knocked and then left. Though I think he may have seen me in the window afterwards because he slammed on the breaks as I stood in the window, arms crossed as he left." I was afraid and bewildered. No one is allowed to our home unannounced or uninvited for any reason, I recall writing to him in April. I was cold and shaking, anticipating punishment as my fiance told me the story.
"But he doesn't even have a white truck!" I protested. at least, such had been true nearly three years ago. "Also, what says 'I totally am not being mysterious and I have nothing to hide!' more than tinted windows?" My fiance thinks he fled because he knew I wasn't home and absolutely did not want to confront them, because he'd be chewed up and spit out. Rightfully so.
The thing is, all week I've been having an odd feeling. Like there's a confrontation or something. Or thoughts that as I do the dishes, there might be someone standing on the deck, just out of sight. And if I turned too quickly but too slowly I'd miss whoever it is. And the night before yesterday, my fiance came to bed early because they just had a bad feeling, like they might be sick. Or on edge for no reason.
Another thing is that usually before an engagement, my father would usually tell me via text or email (which would go deleted) that he'd be headed up. And of course I'd been given no warning, otherwise I would've told my significant before heading home from work. Of course, no such thing. Another attempt to blindside me. "Well if he works in a school then he should have the weekend off! Why isn't he home?"
"But he left a note," my fiance said. "He folded it a trillion times and just stuck it in the door." All the note said was, Hey [redacted]. Please call me at [number redacted]. I really need to talk to you. Love dad. What the hell's going on now? Could be anything big; could be anything small. But the only concern is that I reach out and contact is established. It matters not the reason.
*sigh*. I don't care. Since I've learned of my autism and since I've grown into recognition of my CPTSD and neglect and abuse by my parents, I just don't care. But they'll never understand that I'm my own adult; safe and in love and independent. Guys, what the hell do I do? We're talking more and more about legally getting a retraining order or something. My fiance doesn't deserve to have a nice peaceful day interrupted and spent on edge. I'm shocked and angry and...just I just don't know what to do.