I don’t like holidays. I know, I’m probably the only 14 year old in America who says they don’t like Christmas or thanksgiving or whatever but its the truth. And it isn’t even for the reason I know you all are probably thinking. It isn’t because of the noise or the smells or the amount of people. While I dislike those things they aren’t my issue. My issue is what happens after. My issue is when I get home and I’m exhausted and my brother is exhausted and we are both overstimulated. Because, after that comes yelling. Always. Because, as hard as they try and they do try, my parents do not really understand what happens to us. And i do not blame them for this. Not one bit. I know it isn’t easy to understand. I don’t pretend to get it fully and I live with it. But. Let me try to explain it. Imagine you are a car. You are going on a cross-country journey and you drive till you are running on gas fumes. And just when the motor is overheating and you can’t drive any farther, you get turned off. Which is great. But, if you get turned on again soon you’ll get overheated really fast again. That is the best I’ve got. Basically,it’s like our heads are overloaded to the point where anything is going to push it back into panic and hurting. I will not try to speak for someone else but…for me, at that point I just need to be left alone. I need to get to hide in myself and let myself, slowly, put myself back together. And it isn’t fun. And I wish I didn’t have to but, I do. Piece by piece I have to rebuild the walls. And I will. I always do. But it takes time. It takes an afternoon of letting myself hide away. So, for me, the worst part of the holiday season is just that. Not being allowed to do what I have to do without being bothered to get myself out of complete overload and exhaustion.