"Military Commander: The Unseen Burden"

The dim fluorescent lights overhead seemed to hum at a deafening pitch, making my sensitive ears ache. I covered them with my hands, a habitual gesture that brought me some comfort. As I sat in our small, cluttered bedroom, I felt like I was drowning in a sea of stimuli. Every sound, every smell, every sensation seemed amplified, threatening to overwhelm me. I had learned to cope with it all by regressing to a younger state, one that allowed me to shut out the world and find some semblance of peace. My fingers wandered to the note I had scribbled on a piece of paper, the words pouring out of me like tears. "I am sorry but I can’t handle it anymore you keep bossing me around it keeps agitating me I don’t think this will not work anymore." I read the words, feeling a mix of sadness and determination. I had been married to Hange for two months now, and it had been a struggle from the start. They came from a wealthy family, and I could sense their disdain for me, for my poor upbringing, for my disabilities. As I grew up, I struggled to navigate a world that seemed too bright, too loud, and too chaotic. My severe autism spectrum disorder made everyday interactions a minefield, and my blindness in both eyes forced me to rely on other senses to navigate. The memories of my dad abandoning me as a newborn baby still lingered, a painful reminder of the separation anxiety that had become a constant companion. My mind often felt like that of a newborn baby, unable to process the complexities of the world around me. I glanced around the room, taking in the familiar sights – or rather, the lack thereof. Our bedroom was a mess, with clothes scattered all over the floor, and dishes piled up in the corner. Hange always seemed to find fault in me, ordering me around, never lifting a finger to help. It was as if I was their personal servant, not their partner. I stood up, my joints creaking in protest. I began to pack my belongings, my sensory toys, and my baby toys – the few comforts that brought me solace in this chaotic world. As I stuffed them into a bag, I felt a sense of trepidation. What would happen next? Where would I go? But I knew I had to leave. I couldn't take it anymore. I walked out of our home, the bright sunlight hitting me like a slap in the face. I winced, covering my eyes with my hands. The world was too much for me, but I had to keep moving. I took a deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs, and began to walk. As I disappeared into the distance, Hange walked into our home, a look of exhaustion etched on their face. They had had a long day at work, but it was about to get a lot longer. Their eyes landed on the note I had left, and their expression changed. They read the words, and for the first time, they saw me, really saw me, and the pain they had caused. "Ah, no...no, no, no..." Hange muttered, crumpling the note in their hand. They looked around the empty room, feeling a pang of regret. They had taken me for granted, assuming I would always be there, always be willing to cater to their needs. Hange's eyes welled up with tears as they realized too late that their actions had pushed me to the breaking point. They thought about all the times they had bossed me around, all the times they had ignored my needs, and all the times they had made me feel small. The weight of their regret threatened to crush them, and for the first time, they wondered if they had made a terrible mistake. As Hange stood there, frozen in regret, I walked further away from our home, unsure of what the future held, but determined to find a place where I could be safe, and loved.