With the stormy weather and the recent purchase of an HDMI cable, I’ve been getting the chance to catch up on some Netflix. And after some “meh” moments (read: insatiable, great news, 72 cutest animals), I came across the new season of Atypical. Now, Atypical is a series I need to be in the mood for. Because, this show, this freaking show, sometimes has the tendency to hit a little too close to home.
My brother falls on the spectrum too. Growing up, that wasn’t always easy to deal with. And watching Atypical brings all of those memories back. The fun obsessions (my brother was just as obsessed with Dinosaurs and Vikings as Sam is with Penguins), the less-fun conflicts, the misunderstanding and the fighting against all odds to find common ground.
Ogres have Layers
Watching this show isn’t deja-vu perse. My brother has a different type of autism and it’s less noticeable with him. Now I can barely reconcile the young man I know with the “stupid annoying child” from my memories. Yet when I watch the sister character of the series, Casey, I often find myself understanding her on a level deeper than I’ve ever experienced before. I identify with her. To a certain extent, I am her.
It’s comforting to know that some feelings, no matter how strange and specific they seem, are universal feelings.
Watching the Little Bro™ Grow Up Makes Me Ugly Cry
I guess this is just an elaborate way to say that this show makes me cry. A lot. And you should watch it if you haven’t. My brother is on a roadtrip through Europe right now. He started by foot in Germany, found a bike in Austria, and will board a ferry in Venice.
Now if you would have told me five years ago that my incomprehensible, annoying, attention-seeking, stupid little brother would have literally crossed half of Europe to visit his big sister in Athens, I would have laughed.
Yet there he is. On his way. Only one month to go.