Signals and Seeds

Some days, words feel like arrows.
I hear a phrase—literally, whistleblower, planting seeds—and it lands too close to home. I don’t know the context, but something in me believes it was meant for me. Not in a paranoid way, exactly. More like a quiet suspicion that the universe is whispering in code.

I looked up what it means to take things literally. Autism came up. I’ve been exposed to that term a lot lately. I see similarities, sure. But I haven’t been diagnosed, and I’m not seeking one. I’m not chasing new treatments or labels. I just know that certain words catch my attention like fishhooks. I haven’t figured out why.

Attrition—I didn’t know what that meant. When I looked it up, it said: push something out, make something quit while applying pressure. That felt personal. Like a mirror I didn’t ask for.

Sometimes I wonder: am I self-centered? I think about how things affect me. I notice how often I say “I.” I question whether I’m mature enough, whether I think like other people. I feel like the things that used to light me up have been taken away. Now I’m left trying to make decisions with very little information, and it’s exhausting.

The word whistleblower scares me. It makes me feel exposed, like someone’s watching for me to mess up. Like something bad is going to happen and I won’t see it coming. I want to be more responsible. More accountable. But I also want to feel safe.

I know I don’t think like everyone else. I consider more angles, more possibilities. And I’m learning to say “I don’t know” without shame. That feels like growth.

Someone once told me they don’t like using their gift of foresight because it plants seeds. That stuck with me. I take things personally. I think people are sending me messages, setting things in motion inside my brain. Maybe they are. Maybe they aren’t. But I feel it either way.