Leeches and cloaks

You have no idea what it is like to be me. But that is ok because I don't know what it is like to be you. I can hazard an educated guess that if you are reading this you are either like me but yet not exactly like me or you are different, completely and profoundly different and you really are trying to understand what it is like to have autism woven into your DNA and cloak you in its deception that isolation is bliss and silence is golden. Hope the future is not bleak,  monotonous and hopeless. Sad to be trapped and endurance with optimism is sometimes draining and I wonder how life will unravel like wool from a yarn. Nobody likes sadness or hearing about it. It can be more deadly than knife stabbings. It is like  thousand leeches all over you until all the blood is drained out. Nobody wants to be near you in case you throw the leeches at them as you try to tear them off your skin. You want to scream, to punch and run but you are trapped by a body that does not care that you are fighting for your life.  Autism attracts ravenous leeches. Anyone offering salt?