I don't think he realizes that when I say I miss him, what it means is: that I am missing him to the point of physical pain. That I can hardly eat, because the anxiety is consuming me and gnawing a hole through my core. That the psychic ache is to the point of being unbearable. That a gray curtain has fallen over my mind half the time, and the rest of the time, my mind is scrambling and stumbling in frenetic circles of worry. That I am utterly exhausted and cannot sleep.

And I don't know how to say it, because really, nobody wants to hear these things.

So depressed. Not hungry. Stomach hurts. Feel nauseous. Ugh.

Hope is like
Pale moth wings laying flightless
Dusty, dried petals
On a cracked and peeling windowsill
Which frames a clouded and solitary scene of grey.

I don't want to let anyone close to me anymore. I knew this would happen and I did it anyway. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

Tonight- I am sleeping in a bed that is safe and warm. Not in a car, or on the ground, or in a tent, or on some unfamiliar couch or cold floor....I get to sleep in a nice, warm bed with heavy blankets.
Tonight- Nobody is going to yell at me, hit me, or make me afraid. I can sleep without feelign anxious or hypervigilant.
Tonight- I won't sing the above song to myself, wishing that there wasn't a fight.
Tonight- Nobody is hurting my kids, or screaming at them. I don't have to feel conflicted, guilty or cowardly. Tonight-There is no ominous cloud, no sense of foreboding.
Tonight- I will not be raped, coerced, or coaxed into doing anything I don't want to do. If I awaken tomorrow morning and have done nothing sexual the entire time I've been naked in bed, I won't feel guilty...not even a little.
Tonight-I go to bed with a full stomach. I am neither thirsty nor hungry, and should the need for a bathroom arise, it won't be a problem. I don't have to walk or drive to find facilities.
Tonight- Everything is OK...and like so many of us, I take it for granted. We don't live in a war torn country, fearing for our lives as we try to snatch a bit of sleep. Our children aren't starving to death. Even those of us who are poor are so much better off than those in poorer countries that our complaints are relatively minor. We are rich by comparison.
Tonight- I will try to remember to be thankful, to have true gratitude, for all of these things.

I can't draw anymore, not really. I've always been able to draw. But ever since the concussion, whatever goes on between my head and my fingertips is messed up and nothing comes out right. I mean, I can draw a little...but...things look so bad. It's very discouraging and disheartening. I do realize that if I can force myself to draw everyday, in time, the ability to make art that doesn't cause me to cringe will return. It's like an athlete who sustains an injury that impairs their ability to engage in their sport- the strong ones tough it out and don't take no for an answer, they fight the weakness until they get their ability back. It's the same with the pottery, although not as bad, since fine motor skills aren't quite as much in use....but I've become a lot clumsier, more fumble fingered. I go to paint glaze on and it ends up places where it wasn't supposed to be, pick up a piece and just drop it, bump things without meaning to....

Oh, and my typing has become increasingly dyslexic. It used to be an occasional problem. Now everything I write has transposed letters and capitalization where it isn't supposed to be.....makes me look illiterate and stupid.

And that thing where between my head and my fingertips, something gets lost and doesn't come out right? It's the same between my head and my mouth. The words that come out of my mouth are frequently NOT what I meant to say, and or I see the picture in my head, but really struggle to make words out of it. And auditory processing issues, which were always there anyway, have gotten worse. It is frustrating as hell.

PTSD...eats away at me and leaves me feeling dirty, damaged, second rate and ashamed. I was so triggered last night that I was literally in physical pain. If it were possible, even my hair hurt. :-( I shouldn't complain, nobody wants to hear it, but god, it really sucks.

This blog appears to no longer be in the location posted, but what is written at that link is still highly relevant and well articulated. I resonate very strongly with most of what I've read so far.... Like....I don't like to be touched without warning or being asked, generally speaking. So I try to be considerate and always ask my partner if I may touch him. It's just second nature. Except, he doesn't want to be asked, it seems subservient to him rather than polite. But.....sometimes I am sensory-hungry and he doesn't want to be touched....and how will I know if I don't ask... How? Probably body language, which is hard for me to read. However, my partner is patient and if I am able to read people at all, I can probably read him better than most folks. Still, it's an ongoing quandary in my mind....

Finally, at last. It's about time: New study finds that people with Asperger's don't lack empathy.

And it's pretty much what I've been saying all along, but people didn't listen to me, because the researchers have had this idea that people on the autism spectrum cannot possibly have any worthwhile imput, perspective or useful information to share about what goes on inside our heads or what being autistic is really like.

Feeling somewhat better today, except that my living situation has gone downhill and short of being homeless, there are no good solutions for it right now. Someday, I want a place to live that's secure, a place in life that isn't conditional, to be able to plant things and know that I'll be there long enough to harvest them.

My blog paints such a depressing picture; the truth is that generally speaking, my life has never been easy. As time has gone on, the many traumas have built up to the point where I'm getting triggered nearly every day, particularly in regard to anything relating to loss or rejection. My reactions are always out of proportion to the event itself, because it's not just the event or comment that I'm upset about, it's every horrible thing that I just got reminded of. All these horrible things happened, and it seems as though I'm suddenly being asked to have faith that this time, things are better and nothing horrible will happen. Alas, reliving trauma, being in a triggered state, isn't rational, and at that point, my rational mind has been completely overruled, however much I might need or want for it to be there.

I wish, that when I get like that, instead of trying to reason with me (impossible), he'd just hold me, tell me I'm having an anxiety attack and that it will be over soon. He always tries to speak sensibly to me, which is pretty much an exercise in frustration for us both, at least as long as I'm triggered. However- after all this shit, all this raw pain, he never runs away or dumps me, and a lot of men, lesser men, would. When the nightmare fades, he's still there. Sometimes I wonder why he tolerates it at all, and in the end, the only conclusion I can come up with is that he must actually care about me.

What this person said. ---> Handy guide for dealing with an intp

Yes. It is not a personal insult if I disagree or debate a certain topic. In fact, it's a compliment. Because, as stated, if it is total unworthy BS, it's not worth discussing. That's not to say I can't argue, but there is a difference, and not all disagreement is arguing.

Really sad and I don't feel like there's anyone I can talk to about it. So I'll write about it here and share it with anyone in the world who wants to read this stuff, whilst still not getting any kind of relief. Irony.

He thinks that I am too easily shaken up, upset, reactive. He wants me to be stronger, to be happy in my own right, to be strong enough that even if things fell apart between us, I'd be OK. He does not want to feel as if he is of critical importance in my life.

I can see what he means. But it's like asking a person who's recently spent two years in the ICU fighting for their life, following getting hit by a train, to be OK with prancing along on railroad tracks, because if I get hit again, I'll live through it, again. Trains make me nervous now, not merely nervous- paralyzed with terror. Prancing on railroad tracks isn't fun anymore. I would like to walk somewhere safer, with him.

In addition to all this, it is becoming apparent to me that I simply am not the same person I used to be. I try, I go through all the motions of doing all the stuff I used to like so well, and I enjoy it, somewhat. But it's like my psyche has suffered a massive heart attack, leaving me with big areas of scar tissue. Sometimes I don't know who I am anymore, and it's more than a little unnerving. I know that I used to have friends. I used to do all kinds of stuff. But the person my friends were friends with, isn't here anymore. There's this other person that I am now, and this one is fragile, tires out, doesn't get as much done, requires a lot of TLC and patience, and has forgotten all kinds of stuff, even before the concussion. There are chunks of my life, like at least a year and a half, that are pretty much blanked out and erased, and there are other pieces that if I remember them, feel surreal, as if they happened to a completely different person who happened to live in this same body. I don't know how to talk about these things with people. I don't know how to explain it.

So yeah, I am afraid. I cannot afford to get broken again. I already know how not okay things can be. Whatever parts of me are left, my children need for them to be there.

But the fear ruins things. It makes life less fun. And it's not his fault that I'm like this.

Desmond Morris on Territorial behavior in Homo sapiens

Science blog, same topic

This appears to be for a course or class

It's an interesting and inadequately addressed subject, considering how pervasive territorial behavior is among humans. I engage in territorial behavior. You do. Everyone who has enough consciousness to perceive personal space and who grasps the concept of personal property engages in territorial behavior. However, most of us, including myself, invariably will deny engaging in such behavior if called on it in reference to a specific incident. We will claim that territorial behavior is for animals, that we are civilized....and then go on to be thoroughly outraged when the boundaries of our territory are breached.

Social mores, niceness, sociable behavior in general, are the counterpoint to territoriality. There cannot be niceness/good behavior when territory is disregarded, and tactful/polite behavior is what makes navigating territory not only manageable, but worthwhile and rewarding.

What this head injury feels like, when it's bad (and I say it this way because it isn't a constant; I have good days and bad days and mixed bag days):

It's like bouncing, except "bouncing" sounds like fun, and this is not a fun sensation. It's more like sinking down to the bottom of a murky pond, groggily, and then, with some difficulty, surfacing again into awareness...like not having the strength to swim anymore and just sinking, surfacing, repeatedly. It's so tiring.

Noises hurt. OK, I'm on the autism spectrum, and having sensory issues is an integral part of Asperger's...but now, it's worse. Sharp, sudden sounds feel sharper, more jarring, hard and abrupt and painfully startling. Such sounds are several times harder to endure than they used to be. They are almost physically painful.

Things get blurry, bleary feeling, nonsensical, they don't add up like they should. People talk and it makes no sense, or if their verbal sounds do make sense, I have significant difficulty holding onto what they said. They tell me that they had told me things previously, and I have absolutely no recollection of ever hearing it. Even when I hear and comprehend, it's much harder to follow a conversation or remember what was said. My short term memory and speech decoding appears to have been impacted.

Reality feels less real and less continuous. It's the only way I can describe it. There are times when blank spots appear in the present or near past. Time isn't fluid, it doesn't always flow, it skips sometimes. And I have no idea what happens in those blank spots.

There's a horrible sense of helplessness, despair, a sense of being useless, panic at not feeling better, embarrassment, that goes along with it. Of needing, desperately, to rest, to sleep, to lay down anywhere at all. An awareness that my mind is not working correctly, and there's nothing at all I can do about it, except to rest and to hope that eventually, it will get better. The exhaustion is debilitating. And guilt! I feel so guilty about still feeling like shit, as though there were anything at all I could do about it! I feel so bad for not being able to walk right, for slurring or not making enough sense when I talk, for needing to sleep so much, for not being able to get much of anything done, for being barely able to drive 25 miles every morning and afternoon, and nothing besides that. My goal, every school day, is to rest enough to be able to drive back responsibly.

And speaking of being tired, of needing to sleep....good night.

The doctor says it is probably axonal injury.

Still stumbly. MRI, results go to my doctor on Monday. Tiresome.

Icons

Still recovering from the concussion, my mind is working better than verbal skills would indicate, however extreme emotionality isn't helpful either.....at any rate, I'll make an attempt at writing intelligently. :-/

I've always tended, in art, to draw one particular thing over and over and over again. Whatever thing I draw, it isn't the object I'm drawing so much as an idea, or perhaps an ideal. It's more of a symbol than a subject. These drawings tend to be very....boring to the outsider's eye, because they will all look pretty much alike. Usually (but not always, as you will see), the iconic image is of an animal, and usually it is depicted from the side, or in the same pose (although very minor variations do occur), and usually the same color or color pattern as well, always pointing the same direction if in a side/profile pose. The only other work I've seen that is of this nature is done by George Rodrigue, who paints his blue dogs, over and over and over again in pretty much the same pose. I honestly have no idea why I do this. I can't explain it. I can only say that the subject matter/iconic image isn't boring to me, that what I am trying to express is only partly captured by the drawing, and that other subjects are simply much less interesting. Also, the icons tend to get drawn for a long time, months or years, until I move to a different one...and I also am not quite sure why I drop one icon and switch to another, except that the old one has simply ceased to be interesting. It is strange, I'll grant that. Examples, listed as chronologically as memeory allows at this time, follow:

• Chickens, specifically, a hen sitting on her nest of eggs, profile pose. This is the earliest thing I remember drawing. I had recently lost my mother, so perhaps the image of a hen protecting her eggs was soothing or meaningful to me in some way.
• Guinea Pigs. Always the same guinea pig, my own pet Ginny. I managed to incorporate her white, brown spotted profile into almost every art assignment I got, even after my art teacher said she'd scream if she saw another guinea pig!
• Superman. I always drew Superman facing directly at the viewer. I loved Superman and wanted either to marry him or be him when I grew up.
• Cabbage Patch dolls. Yeah, I really have no idea why.
• A dog with a mohawk in wild colors and a pierced ear. Profile. My 80's punk rock phase.
• A punk looking girl/woman, 3/4 view, high cheekbones, short spiked hair, kind of butch looking, with big earrings. I think she was what I wished I looked like at the time...she looked so cool and so hot!
• A cartoon character I called Roy. Roy was a gray bird wearing a blue beret.
• Cats. Cats ad nauseum. There were a couple of different cats in this phase, first an Angora with curly hair, always sitting, and then it was striped tabby cats.
• Horses. Usually the horses were in a profile pose, pale grey or white with dark feet, muzzle, mane and tail.
• Dark figures, usually children, drawn silhouette style with only the clothing colored and detailed.
• Goats. Some variation here, but not a lot...
• Peaches.
• Salmon...Kokanee salmon. Always profile, but I draw both genders, although only once in the same picture.

Exhausted now, going to rest so that I can eat dinner...

Still feel lousy. The lower half of my body is uncoordinated and stumbly. The rest of me is more coordinated, but tired, very easily exhausted, not much attention span.

Sustained a concussion while handling a large buck goat, Saturday evening. Still don't feel so great. Sleepy, easily fatigued, more emotionally labile than usual. Trying to be gentle w/ myself....

Exhausted for no good reason. Maybe stress.

I'm not an object to be possessed. Women are never things that men are entitled to in any sense of the word. My time, my body, my heart, these things belong to me and are mine to do with as I please, provided that other people's boundaries aren't being violated. I categorically refuse to be defined, restricted and limited by my gender.

And I'm sick and tired of having to repeat this shit, which should be obvious to any thinking person, over and over again throughout my life. Some truths are self-evident. Some boundaries should only have to be stated once. The Dark Ages, in our society, in my life, are officially over and have been for a while now.

368 days ago, I began dating my boyfriend. It was a good choice...and thinking back on how close I came to not dating him scares me a little bit. I'm still not sure how he got through to me, how he melted the hard ice that had encased my fragile heart; probably it was a combination of small gestures, little things here and there....and an awful lot of patience.

There are people who think this is unfair, but the truth of it is that this man has won me over little by little, has earned my trust (not an easy thing) and also, I feel very fortunate to be with him as well. :-)

Tired. Woke up with a pinched nerve in my neck/shoulders, feeling nauseous. Couldn't drink coffee, so then developed a headache as well. Managed to keep down Pepto, then ginger ale and a Go-Girl (caffeine fix sans milk) and a few plain rice cakes, and am starting to feel better again.

And speaking of feeling better....am less tormented by the ugly situation involving my not-friend. There are a number of factors:

• Acknowledging that the silence isn't involuntary. I have chosen to comply with that request. I hate the silence, and I hate the awkwardness, but it's the only thing he's ever asked me to do, so I have done it. In a seriously fucked up way, never speaking to this guy again until or unless he decides speech is OK has become the only way I can demonstrate any sort of regard or respect for him. It sucks, but there you have it, and again, I have been complicit in this so I need to quit whining about it.
• Either this man is a reasonable person and this is a reasonable request that I simply don't understand, or he's not the reasonable person I thought he was. If he is not, there's nothing worth crying over. If he is, then hopefully this makes sense someday.
• My boyfriend is a very reasonable, rational, fairminded individual and despite struggling with the fear of being vulnerable again, I have grown to love him in a way that I didn't know I was still capable of. As nice as it would be to daydream about having the unattainable and reaching the unreachable, my boyfriend is real, solid, reliable, and trustworthy...and I love him.

The old crap still hurts now and then, but it's hurting less than it used to...and I hope that someday it won't hurt anymore at all.

Feelings are thin, like a layer of paint. The state of my mind, my heart, my soul, in regard to you, isn't a feeling. It permeates, goes down through all the layers of strangeness that are me. I call this sensation love, but love means so many things, it's become such a cheap word. Maybe it means nothing at all anymore.

Time is an illusion. It comes, it goes, it flows....and always, I swim upstream.

You, with your sweet, blue, blue eyes. It seems so wrong, so perverse, that life forces us to live and act as though we were enemies. If we never speak again, still my salmon heart swims in the same direction as long as it beats.

Alas.....

Farm stuff:

I ordered 25 more chicks. These are Spangled Russian Orloffs. More can be seen about them at this link. I had intially wante dChanteclers, but the hatchery doesn't have any right now, I would like to get the chickens now so that they can be mixed with the others more easily, and also, I'd like for them to be laying by spring. Also, the Chanteclers are over $6 each and are extremely limited in availability, whereas these are only $4.00 each and I can order 25 of them rather than 10 or 15. This matter, because you have to have at least 25 chicks in a box in order to mail them- otherwise they get cold and die while being shipped, because there aren't enough chicks to keep one another warm. I wanted a rare breed that is very hardy, gentle and calm, and the Orloffs fit this just as well as the Chanteclers do. I also like their unique head and colorful pattern, whereas with the Chanteclers, I would have gotten the plain white ones..... At any rate, these chicks will arrive around Sept 18th.

The first batch of chicks is a month old now, or close to it, and just got moved out to the chicken coop. I don't have any recent pictures....will upload and post some later.

I spent most of last weekend getting goats! I ended up buying two does from Olentangy Alpines. One of them, Arget (her registered name is Tegra), is a grand champion, and older doe and a good milker. She has a wonderfully gentle, calm personality, a real pleasure to work with. The other one, a kid, is a cute little grand-daughter of the famous Sodium Oaks Sasin. I feel quite lucky to have had the opportunity to acquire these two. I've had animals from Mark Baden before, and they were of excellent quality, and had nice dispositions. The other two, a buck and another doeling, are from Great Adventure Farm. The buck is massive, just huge! Despite his size and powerful appearance, he's meek, mild mannered and has a tiny little voice. It's kind of endearing. The doeling, Fan-C Free, is friendly and pleasant, a nice little doe linebred on Redwood Hills Jaeger. Now I need to track down my nitrogen tank and see about getting into artificial insemination again.....

I am finally feeling OK again. Now, for the delicate balancing act of staying this way....

Sometimes it seems like everyone wants something out of me, not things I can do, but things out of my soul, my heart...and right now there isn't a lot to spare; it's all being expended on homeostasis. They get mad at me when I don't have it to give, throwing me further out of balance, taking more time to regain equilbrium. It's difficult.

And people wonder why I love my boyfriend, they question whether we're just "friends with benefits", because we don't see one another as often, because life gets in the way. But here's the thing: he loves me regardless of the many sub-optimal conditions I'm often in. There's never any pressure. He's held me and kept me alive countless nights when I was aching over bad situations that probably will never be resolved. And through all of this, he doesn't demand or expect anything of me, he's just there, my friend, my patient, tolerant lover.

Sometimes, it's not what happened, it's the way it happens.

I feel so incredibly fragile this week. I am so easily triggered. Things hurt more than they should, little things.

It feels like I am crumbling aroudn the edges, and then into the center, to my heart....

It didn't work out to buy a buck from Kevin Kinney. I am now trying to find other stock from breeders who seem ethical. If I could afford it, I should just buy everything from Redwood Hills Dairy.....Jennifer Bice is a very nice person and has bred fantastic animals.....maybe will give her a call.

Had a good day with my daughter; rare, valuable one on one time out on the town together. :-)

Things are gradually improving. I have a good, kind boyfriend who's incredibly patient with me. My living situation is better and I can see my kids every day. I'm making pottery again. I have my cats and my dog back, as well as 22 week old chicks buzzing around like little bees. I'm about to order goats.

But sometimes, I still feel so fragile....

I don't know, I mean....I hate this, but this is the way you want things to be. I don't understand that, and it isn't my choice or preference, but what can I do? Nothing, that's what. I just have to try to deal, try not to hurt, pretend not to care, work at moving on with my life.

It does seem to me that there are a lot of alternatives that would be much less awkward/triggery...but...not my choice.

Day started out well, got lousy and stressful pretty quickly....finally, gradually got better and now I'm fine...but tired. It's a little distressing to me that I can go down so easily, so rapidly, over the slightest things, in just seconds....and then recovery takes proportionately quite a bit more input/effort and considerably more time...hours. Oh well. It could be worse. It used to be worse, much, much worse, not very long ago.

My baby chicks arrive- in the mail- tomorrow! Yay! I ordered the super assortment, from a company that specializes in rare breeds, so no idea what I'll get. Can't wait, but I hope most of them are alive.....

This post on this blog = awesome. Some of the most accurate, useful stuff I've ever read about what it means to be a female with asperger's...right up there with Rudy Simone's book, Aspergirls.

Depressed. Blue. Trying to get stuff done, clean, plant, put things away, hoping that doing something will help me feel better. :-(

Life is getting better. And if I see my boyfriend less often, if I can be there for him less often, still, the time we do have together is very good and we cherish it more for its infrequency.

Been making pottery on a fairly regular basis. I made a Gina Fruen inspired teapot, because I had the opportunity to attend a workshop by her while I was at my college ceramics class. While finishing it up, realized I didn't like it. It's chunky, ungainly, no graceful lines, no simpicity or elegance, cluttered up with texture, even though I had substituted botanical textures for her more industrial type textures. Further, realized I didn't like her work that much, either, so why the hell I made anything after her style is beyond me, but by this time, it was almost done, so I gave it a suitably wonky handle and set it on the shelf to dry. :-/

Most of my work is folded, draped sheets of clay that have been impressed with leaves, stems and pine needles. The clay has been handled as if it were soft, heavy cloth, cut only when necessary. The shapes are clean. These are the forms I like best. I used up 25# of stoneware clay (Sea Mix) and now have purchased a block of porcelain (Turner Porcelain), which to my dismay was crumbly, stiff, cracks easily, hard to handle. Not sure if it had dried out a little in the bag or if it's always like this, so I crumbled some of it up, moistened it really well, and wrapped it in plastic. Will try working with it in a day or two and see if it's easier to work with. The plan was to make chess sets with the porcelain, as well as experiemnting with leaf impressions that would then get assembled into vessels. I am missing the cone 10 stoneware I used to work with (Klondike). It was better, in my recollection, for handbuilding...sagged less, held up better...but this studio only fires to cone 5, so I now have to adapt to different clays and find something I can work with.

And, I am still struggling with the residual unhappiness regarding the guy I got all broken up over 2+ years ago because he wouldn't speak or look at me. No matter how you cut it, it hurts to feel contaminated and anathema, but the fact of the matter is that somehow, it hurts more when I also am living 30 minutes away from the man who stood by me while I was putting the pieces back together. In other words: dealing with the physical distance and reduced facetime with my lover is made less easy by also being confronted with painful memories that still haven't been resolved. Yuck.

Yesterday I ordered some chicks from Sand Hill Preservation Center. I am really excited about this; I love the work they do and their ongoing, successful effort to maintain, preserve and distribute rare breeds of poultry and seed varieties which are nearly impossible to find anywhere else. I really wanted to get Chanteclers, but chicks for this rare breed, which is in danger of being lost altogether, are $6.00 each. I haven't raised chickens from day old chicks before, and while losing chicks of any breed would be really sad, losing rare, expensive chicks that I've dreamed about getting for the past couple years would be heartbreaking. So instead, I ordered the Super Assorted chicks, which will still contain some rare breeds, but cost less than a dollar each. These will be my learning curve chicks, should start laying by late winter, and will be laying while I'm raising the Chantecler chicks next spring.

The corn is doing well in my garden at the blueberry farm. This is flour corn, so I can use it for cornmeal and or feed it to the chickens! Will also plant some winter wheat this fall. And in case you're wondering...no, I haven't succumbed to getting goats again...yet.

Struggling a little, feeling sad. I love my new house, love that it's in the country, love being right next door to my kids, being able to have my animals again, very nice that I'm friends with the landlord/neighbor...but I really, really miss my boyfriend. Everything I love and want is there, except for him. I can still visit him, of course, but it just isn't as easy as it used to be. Overall, things are good.

Life remains somewhat unsettled. Still moving into my new place and getting situated, trying to establish a workable routine.

I have a place to live now, located such that my children are able to interact with me on a regular, daily basis. Also, I can keep my dog and the cats here, and can get chickens, possibly even goats, although I haven't broached the goat question yet. This is primarily because after my farmsitting escapade, I'm not certain that goats are something I want to deal with every day, although I'd probably have Angora goats, which don't have to be milked twice a day, every 12 hours, 305 days per year. OK, so that's not quite fair. You don't have to milk dairy goats that often or for that much of the year, but the fact remains that if you have dairy animals, you end up being at least as committed to them as you would be to any human spouse, possibly moreso.

I have at long last been able to get my handmade items listed on Etsy, in hopes of generating income. Currently ten items are listed and none of them have sold, but to be fair, most of these items are poorly timed for the season- wool scarves and crocheted cotton hats. Instead of sitting at my laptop, drinking my coffee, trying really hard to wake up, I should be making more merchandise. Hmmm...

So, speaking of Etsy and wool and such stuff, I want to start using only natural, plant based dyes for my products. I don't know if the chemical used in standard dyes are toxic or not, but what I can say is that the directions always say to wear gloves, take precautions, etc... Mostly, I'd just like to be as involved as possible in the products I make, to be able to say for certain what was used and where it came from.

There is a hole in my armor.

I am farmsitting for my former partner/father of my kids. It's fun to milk the goats and do the farm stuff...and I am really appreciating and enjoying the rich biodiversity of the place, which has been managed organically for the past 20+ years. :-)

Rants:

• Coffee shops that have a cutoff time for the wifi and don't inform you of this! What sucks even more is when you were in the middle of something (homework, a test, an important email, etc) and you lose connection. I circumvented it this time by simply rebooting the computer, but I won't be returning to this place, nor to any other which kicks me offline without warning. It isn't the time limit that's unacceptable, it's the lack of communication, which can seriously fuck things up if you don't know. I boycott all coffee shops that do this.
• The disorganization of my life and stuff. Working on it. I need to be able to find what I want when I want it, and to have a clear idea of what I have left and what was lost in the fire/foreclosure.
• Goats without names (in other words, they don't respond to their name because they don't have one) who run away instead of coming to be milked! Then when I'm done milking them, they bolt away as if I just did something awful to them. :-( Oh well.
• The rain is wonderful and I'm happy for it, but it's severely affecting my ability to get outside work done.
• I need to be cuddled and held and hugged and touched and slept next to. Not only is it not happening, I don't know if it's ever going to happen again. Not complaining too much, because I do like sex, but frankly, for all my touch to come only from sex isn't...well, somehow it isn't exactly the way I want things to be. Even if I were getting to have sex every single day (what a happy thought!), having that be the sole source of touch and physical human contact would be a little disheartening. But on the other hand, I don't want it to be an all or nothing sort of thing, either....I don't know. Probably I should just shut up and be happy with what I can get. :-/

Round Up kills earthworms. That's why I can't find any. We've already seen the honeybees take a massive hit, but I had to go look for the info on the worms...and I read organic/sustainable living stuff all the time. The prospect of a world without earthworms or honeybees scares the hell out of me, and it should scare you, too...

One of many studies

Don't take my word for it, go google for "effect roundup earthworms". Monsanto is doing their best to sugarcoat and stifle information on this, but it is out there. This cannot happen. We have to put our foot down. We have to do something and it needs to be done before it's too late.

Been selling blueberry plants at the farm here, and as they vacate their beds, space is freed up for my garden area. Sold 36+ plants today, leaving only 5 runty orphan plants. Will water and baby those along and see if they survive....

This allowed me to utilize enough ground for four more raised beds. Made one bed this evening and planted it with: carrots (danver's half long), beets (chioggia), amaranth (mercado dreadicus?!), poppies (Black Swan and Venus), and cosmos (Seashells mix). Yeah, i really did plant all those seeds in a single raised bed.... The flowers range mostly from burgundy to pink...the beet leaves will have red coloration so should match. I like to mix it up, always planting more than one thing in case something doesn't do well, and I like the cheer and spontanaiety of flowers alongside the more practical vegetable plants. The soil in this bed is very light and loose thanks to a lot of sawdust (leftover from heeling in the blueberry plants), which is why i planted a few root crops. The other areas have heavy, cakey soil that dries into an impenetrable crust....the delicate carrot seedlings wouldn't even sprout through it, i don't think.

Elsewhere throughout the garden, there are a LOT of calendulas and nasturtiums; both flowers are edible, and calendulas are also medicinal for healing salves and soaps. Also sunflowers are growing vigorously with the field crops (flour corn, winter squash, dry beans and peas for soup). Flowers make people smile and provide nectar and pollen for bees. Isn't that practical enough to justify making space for them? :-)

-->I have not seen a single snake, toad, frog or turtle here. Beetles, hummingbirds, robins...songbirds, a great blue heron... but no amphibians or reptiles, and not many spiders either.

Sometimes I feel foolish, humiliated or devalued because of that...I keep right on feeling the way I feel about people despite changes on their side of the equation. But really, is love, human warmth and regard, something to be ashamed of? Why would I think that having feelings that are more conditional would be more dignified?

Actually, the truth of the matter is that I have no idea what's going on. I'm trying hard to be happy with whatever it is, because it could certainly be much worse.

The garden is growing well. The earth calls to me.....want to farm so badly. It's time consuming and labor intensive to improve the soil, and then I typically have to move along again and start over.

I mean, it's just, everything in my life is so temporary, you know? I was thinking about that today....about the changeability in my life. Living situations, jobs, animals, vehicles, stuff I have or don't have....everything changes on a regular basis, but the one stable factor in my life is love. The people and things that I love pretty much stay the same regardless of what else goes on. Oh, there are additions now and then, but hardly ever any deletions.

The garden is growing well...multiple squash plants from my old seeds. The soil has been plowed, rototilled and chemically farmed for years and it feels dead to me...the texture is just powdery and lifeless. I've been trying to amend it with manure, straw, etc...am now going to add coffee grounds. I have seen one, yes just one, earthworm the entire time I've been working there.

Had the insane idea of biking up Gold Hill a few days ago. I've seen other people do it, including some guys who looked like they were in their sixties, so how hard could it be? I'm here to tell you, it's crazy difficult. I have no idea how anyone rides either up or down that trail and now have the deepest respect for anyone who can manage either feat. I fell twice (trying this with toe clips was an even worse idea!) and quickly concluded that the trail's a lot more fun on foot. Maybe with a little BMX...but no, I have seen other mountain bikers going up and down that trail, in groups, which seems potentially disastrous ....dunno. I'm either incredibly out of shape or unpracticed or something....that was fucking brutal and I didn't ride more than a fourth of it. Very, very embarrassing. Still all scraped up, and oops, gotta run for art modeling, scrapes and all!

I am feeling fairly happy, but there are nagging yearnings.... Most of all, I want stability, some kind of an anchor in life, someone or something who will reliably, dependably be there for me even when all sorts of shit is hitting the fan. It could be a farm, a partner, a job, a calling, a friend...but I want to belong, to have a place in life that I can't get kicked out of.

I should go work on my pottery....(but I'm afraid to go look...my salmon that hadn't even been bisqued yet had a broken tail the last time I went there...and it was the best I'd made so far)...I should buy art supplies (but I'm feeling cheap)...or should finish painting the shed (tired of sunshine- yes, really!)...yearning for nature, need exercise.

Several of my old squash seeds have come up. :-) It looks as if I'll have enough genetic diversity to be able to hand pollinate between plants and keep this strain going. Hope lives.

Blech, not the anxiety again.....oh please no. It's not the crippling flavor...yet....but I don't want it at all, not any flavor in any amount. >.<

Things have changed somewhat. And although I am not typically a private person, I'm not going to talk about any of it here. Some things defy easy explanation. What I will say is that I am feeling better, am getting along with my lover again, and that my soul is filled with a deep sense of contentment.

Labels, designations, social categories, etc can fly away on the wind. I am happy.

Some situations just are not easy and have no simple, immediate solutions. The fact of the matter is that the level of PTSD, trauma and other issues that I have makes it nearly impossible not to trigger me, or for me not to get triggered. It seems inevitable. It probably seems like I'm just not trying hard enough to get a grip and cope with life.

But from my perspective, the absolute worst part of all this is that getting triggered tends to cause more traumatic shit to happen, creates more triggers to trip over. It has become a self-perpetuating private hell. Private? That's not true: it affects everyone around me, everyone who has to interact with me. It's so unfair, in all directions. Every person I love, every person I get close to, has to deal with this shit, gets stressed by it. I cannot help hurting those I love, in the most inadvertent way, and frankly, that makes me feel like shit. :-(

Looking back through the blog posts, I realize that this wasn't a surprise. I could see it coming, could sense that ominous storm cloud building. I've had an entire lifetime of hypervigilance regarding the faintest hints of rejection, can smell it on the wind. I knew. I did. It was there for a long time.

But he kept insisting it wasn't there, even as I watched the alarm bells ring, as the thing started to snowball and gain momentum. I began to panic, and that made it worse. He still said everything was OK. I wanted so badly to believe him....because he was dear to me, because I really longed to be able to trust someone. And I tried as hard as I could to turn away from the doom gathering, blackening, on the horizon. I could only ignore it when I was in his arms....when he held me, I felt safe.

And now, battered and worked over by the long-dreaded disaster, I feel betrayed. He said it was safe! He said he wouldn't do this, that I was worrying needlessly, and look: everything I was so paralyzed with fear about has happened.

But shouldn't I be most upset with myself? The thing is, I had no idea of what could be done to stop it. How do you stop a tsunami??

Earthworms have five hearts.
I wish that I had five hearts, like a cat has nine lives.
But.
I would give every one of them to you anyway, write your name on them all
Like a string of valentines.

I don't know. It's so hard to tell what's true and what is my mind's anxiety....which is why PTSD is such a bitch. Flashbacks, triggers, it feels real. And this time, the reality check function appears to be broken. I am left floundering in a dark roomful of nightmares, alone, waiting for the day to come, trying as hard as I can to endure until then.

Don't wanna hurt anymore. I mean I am sick and tired of being triggered, tired of hurting, tired of worrying and stressing. Every time I get triggered it fucks up the next 2-3 days, and then, just as I'm recovering, it happens again! I can't live like that. Going to have to just take care of myself. My kids need me around, they need me not merely alive but functional and alive.

Have started a new-to-me kind of therapy called EMDR which is reputed to be very effective for PTSD, trauma, anxiety, etc. The first session went fairly well and I felt much better afterwards. Today's sessions dredged up all sorts of stuff, chained together, and the therapist concluded that we have to work on some of the grieving issues....and of course, she was right. We forgot to end the session with meditation as we did the first time, and I am feeling a bit fragile and raw.

So...trying to be nice to myself tonight, take it easy. Don't know what to do about my relationship with my partner. Are we partners? I don't know. Thinking about that will hurt....stop. Rest. Relax. Be nice...no stress....

Planted a fraction of the winter squash seeds, along with summer squash, corn, sunflowers, jerusalem artichokes, dry beans (two native american varieties, both rare and ancient), lots of nasturtiums, tomatillos.... Going through the winter squash seeds is emotionally hard on me. Having at long last recovered the varieties originally from Daniel Haugen, which i had spent years breeding and selecting, these were what I planted first. The seed is over ten years old; whether any of it grows or not is uncertain, but i have to try. He has been dead for 17 years, and I haven't been the same since. Every broken relationship, every love lost, just seems to hammer the same painful message into my heart: hope is dead and there's no bringing it back or finding it anywhere else.

Where to go? What to do? What about the many people that I love and want to be near?

I don't have any answers yet. I feel so tired, feel so sick, feel like I want to be wrapped up in a blanket and nurtured until whatever this bug is goes away, and my energy comes back. I am upset with myself. I hurt the people I love without meaning to, I can't be all the things that one should be, I'm not strong enough, not there enough, my love runs deep but following through on the way I would like to be is an ongoing struggle. I fail the people I love... :-(

Trying really hard not to get profoundly depressed, and I'll be honest, it isn't easy. Then I think about where it's all heading, how to avoid being in this position, and the answers and solutions aren't at all comforting or reassuring. I can only hope to be wrong, to be pleasantly surprised. Try not to think about it, try not to hurt, try not to notice the obvious....

And on that note, my own forecast for the weekend:

Friday opens out with partly sunny skies, but towards the afternoon, a strong chance of thundershowers with a precipitous drop in temperatures, near freezing overnight.
Saturday, the weather is likely to get worse rather than better. 90% chance of continued thunderstorms with hail, freezing rain, sleet and cold winds. Better stay home if you can. Saturday late afternoon and evening, it may clear up, 50% chance of continued cold drizzle, remote possibility of sunshine and clearer skies.
Sunday will be warmer, sunnier than Saturday, but there's still a chance of Saturday's storm front blowing back into the area, so don't get too complacent!

I had written before about what I was wanting in a relationship, and a friend emailed me, saying that his obsevration of me was not consistent with what I was claiming to want. I have been considering this deeply since that email, because I think he had some valid points. With that in mind....

What I think I want: A best friend that is also a lover in a very passionate sense. I want a deep, close, intimate bond with another person. Also, recipricocity, because----> I want and really, really need to feel safe in the relationship. I need to know that my closeness/status with the other person is secure despite challenges and changes that come along in the course of life. Equality is imperative.

What I don't want: To be controlled, constricted, and most especially, hurt, sidelined or rejected.

I was going to write that I don't want a husband/marriage partner, but the truth of that matter is that if it were important to the other party and if all other things were working, I would consider the legal protection and paperwork involved, with a LOT of caveats. The other party would have to know and accept that the realtionship would not be anything like a traditional, standard "marriage" and that the paperwork would be there primarily to assure legal protection for time/monetary/interest investment in a shared life. I've been in several relationships which involved living together with no legal protection, and I ended up losing badly twice...and there was nothing I could do about it. It sucks to expend a ton of work, or to rack up debt in a shared life together and then be left either empty handed or worse, with a huge bill. There are other aspects of legal protection which are reserved for marriage; I don't agree with the way this stuff works, but it is what it is and I can understand wanting some security in these areas.

Working on my farming business plan...even though I have as yet no place to farm.

Criteria for inclusion in this plan :

• Permaculture/Restoration Agriculture/Agroforestry crops. Trees and perennials have priority.
• Crops which will grow readily in our climate without excessive care and fussing.
• Crops which store well and do not need to sell within a few days have priority, although there are some exceptions, such as berries. Will probably need a BIG freezer in order to deal with these. Still- I do *not* want to deal with a hundred pounds of lettuce or baby salad greens per week, panicking to move them before they wilt. And speaking of baby salad greens...
• Low/minimal labor.
• Crops for which there is a ready market/demand. It would be very cool to grow medlars, however I am not going to be the one to create that market. Belgian endive, for example, would be a wonderful crop to grow, if and only if there is a market for it.
• Multi-use crops, multi-harvest crops, and crops whose "waste" has a practical/productive use are preferred. For example, fallen/substandard apples make good livestock feed and the prunings are good for smoking wood or barbeques.
• Conservation/heirloom varieties or species.
• Multi-function crops. For example, narcissus bulbs deter gophers from eating tree roots, as all daffodils are toxic. Even though daffodils aren't edible, they are worth planting for this reason alone, and the blooms can also be sold as cutflowers, which will not affect the deterrent qualities of the bulbs at all. Also, harvesting the blooms will cause the bulbs to multiply more readily, and the extra bulbs when divided, could be sold.

This is just for plants and trees. I have seperate (but similar) criteria for animals.

I had a dream last night which left me unsettled, one which laid my fears bare and exposed.

Things I am afraid of....

• Not belonging/not fitting in/being in the way/unwelcome
• Looking/feeling foolish/humiliated in front of other people
• Not being loved any longer, by someone who used to love me.
• Being deceived/betrayed/lied to
• Being easily replaced
• Feeling disposable/merely convenient/not valued.

It was only a dream....but- it was fairly telling. And now, how to address/deal with all this ugly insecurity?

My brain is not at all rational when it gets triggered or upset. In fact, it is downright self destructive in that state. I am always upset and embarrased with myself once I come to my senses again, and swear that I will try to keep a better grip on reality next time, but unfortunately, PTSD is not very susceptible to willpower. The only way to beat this is going to be through therapy and serious, continued effort at healing the underlying stuff. I am so sorry for the people around me who have to deal with it. :-(

Politically Incorrect...again.

Some friends of mine posted this link to Facebook, prompting a discussion in which I found myself in the position of having to disagree with them all: Street Harrassment and Legos I don't want to get into a long, controversial argument on Facebook (it wouldn't be the first time I strongly disagreed with these friends on certain issues) so am bringing the topic here instead. I like and respect these people, but sometimes we don't see things in the same way.

My response was: "I guess that I wouldn't consider a single expression of admiration street harrassment. If it was loud, obnoxious, or repeated, then yes, but saying "Hey Babe", once, in a reasonably polite tone, wouldn't offend me, nor would I personally consider it harrassment. Conversely, I have walked by a couple of attractive dykes as I walked into a coffee shop and said, "Hey ladies!", and they smiled back at me. Was that street harrassment? All I meant was to let them both know they were attractive."

The reply was that the reason it's not OK for guys to express admiration, even within the parameters I listed, is basically because the guy is A: male, B: bigger and stronger and C: a construction worker, and that this sort of thing is the most common form of sexual violence.

Frankly, this point of view is more offensive than any guy of any size or occupation saying "Hey Babe!" once in a non-threatening way. Here's why I feel this way:

• My personal sense of power as a woman is not compromised by my gender or my size. To say that I am weaker and therefore need to be handled in a way that is different than if I were bigger or male goes against my idea of feminism and equality. Yes, I am smaller. Yes, I am physically less strong. I am also faster, can be mean under the wrong circumstances, more intelligent than most foes, have had self defense classes, and am not about to live and feel like a victim simply because I am smaller than average and happen to have a vagina rather than a penis.
• If we as women are going to claim that we are equal, deserve equal pay, equal rights, etc, then don't we need to assert our equality by believing and acting as if we are equal? Equality starts right here, in my court, with my identity, actions and expectations. While we're at it, I'm going to really piss people off and say that I have no use for the phenomenon in which women do less work and still demand equal pay. That's not equality and it isn't feminism; it's asking for special treatment based on gender.
• Let me be clear: I am not OK with sexual advances made in an intimidating or threatening manner...but that's not what we're talking about here. I do not consider a whistle or a "Hey Babe" to be intimidating, threatening advances. If my boss did this, then yes, because his position as my boss places him in a power differential. It's not because he's male or because he's bigger, it's because he's my boss and has the power to threaten my job security if I don't comply.
• Stepping in even more politically incorrect shit: let's be honest, we sometimes dress in such a way as to attract attention. Dressing in a sexy manner and then bristling and labeling male interest as sexual violence is stupid and contradictory. Of course it is not OK for a man to grab, grope, harrass (show interest *after* it has been made clear that the woman is NOT interested) etc a woman because of how she is dressed, even if she is walking down the street nude. If a guy expresses admiration and is rebuffed, then it should end there. She's not interested, you got to see a hot chick, leave her alone now, period. I'm dressed in a slightly provacative manner today: spandex bicycle shorts under a short, snug little dress whose hem barely covers the shorts. I felt sexy, wanted to act sexy, so I dressed the part. I got ogled (silently) at the store an hour ago and that was fine. Guess what? I never, ever get ogled or commented on when I wear my work clothes (Carhartt's and T shirt). When I'm working, I'm there to work (pruning berry bushes and landscaping), so I dress for work, not sex appeal. If I am dressing so as to be on display, then I am inviting attention, and I am aware of this fact. If I don't want attention, then I don't dress for it.
• I have been raped and molested and sexually harrassed and taken advantage of. I have experienced real sexual violence often enough to have serious trauma issues from it. It really offends me to hear something like a wolf whistle classed with rape. Doing so waters down the definition of sexual violence and sexual harrassment and detracts from our credibility. It's sort of like the little sister who screams "Johnny hurt me!!!!" and bursts into tears, just because he made a face at her, and sometimes after she made a face at him first. Her parents start ignoring her because she whines over the slightest thing. They are less likely to listen when Johnny does hit her, because she's always squawking. I don't appreciate having the violence that has been done to me minimized by other people because some women draw no distinction between a non-threatening verbal expression of interest and having their ass grabbed.

tire topic makes me very glad that I was not born male. :-(

"Anxiety is love's greatest killer. It creates the failures. It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him, but you know he will strangle you with his panic." -Anais Nin.

Also: what kind of relationship would that be, anyway? One cannot attain a goal which has not been defined.

Hmmm. I guess I want to be free to love, to be loved in return, to have what the books call "comapanionate love", to know that when life gets difficult, I'll have a ally, not an adversary or worse, a gap where soemone used to be right up until the shit hit the fan. Loyalty and getting through the hard stuff together is pretty important to me; fairweather friends and lovers can be found anywhere. I want to know that if I get cancer or some other kind of sick, someone will be there visiting me at the hospital...that if life deals me a blow, there will be comforting arms to enfold me....that sort of thing. :-/

Starting to do art again...will post a link when it's done.

This looks like possibly the most useful site I have found yet to deal with the problems I have been having. The difficult thing has been that I am aware in some part of my mind that the thoughts which are tormenting me are not reasonable, realistic, or rational, but it's sort of like having really bad music piped into your bedroom 24/7- at some point it is going to get to you and it's so loud that anything else can hardly be heard. I have got to find a way to unplug the speakers and throw them out the window.

And...my brain is tormenting me again with the idea that my partner doesn't love me anymore (is it OK to call him a partner? Unsure). The smallest gesture, things said, not said, every variation in routine, language, action, becomes confabulated into a specter of impending rejection/dying relationship/not being wanted any longer, just convenient, etc. Everything hurts, completely out of proportion, or worse, things that shouldn't hurt at all. It's a special kind of hell. :-(

How to make it stop? Clearly there are things unsettled that need to be settled, but if I were able to do that myself, it would have been done with already. Something triggered me, but the time for being triggered is over and I just need for this to stop and go away already. Worse, it isn't easy for other people to deal with, which only feeds the cycle and exacerbates matters. Then I hate myself for being this way, and again, this doesn't help either. It is becoming a self-perpetuating source of pain. Meanwhile, I am feeling needy/touch hungry, but my behavior is off-putting. Ugh......

Many of you have probably already heard of Amanda, but if you haven't, I would encourage you to meet her, via her blog. She is just out of surgery, following a not very subtle attempt to convince her that death was a better option. Yes, that is pretty much what happened. :-( I'm happy to say that she's still alive and well- the world needs more like her, not fewer!

When will the carnage end? Why do people feel the need to kill others? It's very hard to grasp the enormity of this kind of loss/violence/horror....and then one thinks about all the wars and sensless violence on a worldwide level....why? Why do people do this sort of thing?

On "Suffering from Autism".

We hear these words a lot. I am not an autistic person, or an aspie, because that is not considered politically correct, person first language. The "correct" way to refer to me is apparently to say that I am a person who suffer froms autism/Asperger's syndrome. Well, newsflash: that so called correct terminology is very offensive to me, whereas referring to me as an autistic person or an aspie is not, just as referring to me as a woman is not offensive. It is a simple, descriptive statement. I am a person with female parts and identity, also I am a person with Asperger's. Not offensive, merely factual.

Why is the "suffering from autism" phraseology so aversive?

Autism is a pervasive developmental disorder. "Pervasive" means that our entire personality and identity is affected/colored by autism. Autism is an integral part of who I am, just as being female, artistic, introverted, etc is an integral part of who I am. If the curebies had their way and managed to "cure" me of autism, the person I am would no longer be here. I wouldn't be me anymore, I'd be a complete stranger. Saying that I suffer from autism is just as offensive as saying that I suffer from femaleness. Now, it is true that there are disadvantages to being female, particularly in a culture in which gender equality is still not yet a reality. However, no woman wants to be referred to as "a person suffering from female gender"- they are less offended by being referred to as a woman, or better yet, simply as a person, period. The same is true for me.

Here are some things related to autism that autistics/aspies do suffer from.

• Depression- is pretty much endemic among us. I think it is safe to say that if you were to erase depression from any autistic person's world, their improvement would be impressive- without touching the autism at all. Depression kills an awful lot of us, and it sucks the life, ambition and hope out of our lives. It can be accurately and fairly stated that we do suffer from depression.
• Bullying. If you find an autistic person who hasn't been bullied throughout their life, please let me know. Probably they will have been raised in a bubble. Bullies torment us from early childhood on, into adulthood, taking advantage of our naivete and making school- which could be our ticket to success in life- a living hell rather than a place of learning and growth.
• PTSD. Many of us have been abused: by parents, adult authority figures, bullies, spouses and partners, strangers....we tend to lack the ability to detect danger until it's too late to run away. Many of of have been sexually abused or raped, and physical abuse by parents against autistic children is also common. Combine the abuse with a mind that replays everything unpleasant and whose wiring is already set to be easily stressed, and you have PTSD + autism, not an easy combination to live with or deal with.
• Anxiety: That brain that constantly replays everything traumatic, with a hairtrigger amygdala? Anxiety central! When you see autistic people stimming (rocking, making funny movements with their hands, squiting their eyes, and other things that look funny to you), it is because they are stressed and anxious. Stims are a coping mechanism.
• Stress. I hate to say it this way but, when normal people talk about stress....they have no. idea. what we live with and have to cope with every day. The world is tailored for neurotypical people and as a result, it's very stressful to us, even without all the bullies, loud people, people who misunderstand and or treat you like you're stupid, etc. Imagine heavy metal music turned up to full volume, in 3-d physical reality, spinning and swarming all around you while you're trying to go through your day. That's what it's like for me to be in a crowd of people or at Wal-Mart. Life is overwhelming. Everything is so loud, so bright, so smelly, so fast, so demanding, so right! now!, so flashy and busy. Normal people seem to have systems that are dulled to subtlety and delicacy, so they inflict their need for extreme sensory experiences onto us all. It's fairly awful.
• Discrimination. Despite what everyone says, it is legal to discriminate against us at work, etc. All they have to do is claim that you are unable to do the job, regardless of whether or not this is actually true. It is also fully legal to screen us out in the first place by the use of questionnaires designed to select only hyper-social sheeple who will follow orders mindlessly. For example, Starbucks and Walmart both use these questionnaires as part of their job application process. If you answer "disagree" to a statement like "I love to be around people and find social interactions energizing.", you will not get hired, despite experience and competence at the job. It doesn't matter if you can put on your customer service mask and do the job just as well as the natural socialite- you will never even get an interview, because you answered that question honestly. They only way to get past the questionnaire is to lie, and of course, they can fire you at any time if you lied on any part of the application, even if you can bring yourself to lie about such stuff, which I am unable to do.
• Poverty. It's hard to get a job, hard to keep a job, hard to get on disability, hard to win divorce/custody battles in court. I have seen people on the autism spectrum who were not poor, but they seem to be the exception rather than the rule. Poverty increases stress, anxiety and depression, feeding the cycle of true suffering.

I've probably forgotten a few things that should have been on that list, but my point is that none of the above items have to be associated with autism, and several of them are external; i.e. could be changed by normal people if they cared as much as they claim to. If as much focus were put into preventing discrimination and bullying as is being directed towards a mythical cure, our lives would improve. Even better, we'd still be ourselves, we could express our potential, and the world woudl be a better place for everyone, not just us, because things like discrimination and bullying hurt everyone.

Don't know if I am ever going to be the same. I try as hard as I can, but it isn't getting noticeably easier, whereas I am losing hope and becoming disheartened. Understatements, all of it....

At any rate...a good first step towards rebuilding my life would be going back to school. It's been so long since I took any math that paying $300 for the college algebra class would be a total waste of money (along with also being another nail in the coffin or demoralizing event or whatever you'd like to call it). I don't remember the math prior to college algebra well enough to be able to do that final class (which, recall, has already been taken, unsuccessfully, 6 times). But here's the thing: I didn't do well in beginning algebra either, passing only with a C, and the same with intermediate algebra. So what I need to do, even though it will be expensive and time consuming, is to start over at the beginning. I should take the beginning algebra class this summer. Most of the material will be familiar to me and I should do OK with it, which is good because the summer classes are accelerated. Then in the fall, intermediate algebra, since I'll have the entire semester. If I''ve passed the prior two classes, by spring, college algebra should be doable. This will not only enable me to pass the class that's been such a hurdle, but also I'll have the opportunity to improve my GPA by hopefully getting better grades on those classes. I could also conceivably take psych classes if that's the degree I'm after...a question I can't quite answer yet.

So I now have a plan for how to handle this math class. The next question will be, how to pay for not one, but three classes? I'm not sure yet. I will be taking all of them online, to save on gas (also communting time) and also for grading strategy reasons. They won't all be taken at the same time, so the money doesn't have to be produced all at once either, but it would be good to have a plan for that, too.

And....there's so much that I don't tell anyone. So today, I told my therapist some of it, opened a window into the pain, the hell and loss and utter desolation within...and being a level headed sort, he didn't freak out, which was good. People don't typically want to hear the sort of stuff that's in here....and it just hurts nearly all of the time. Nobody wants to know about that. They just want you to get better...as if I didn't want that, too...but it's against the rules.

Another link worth reading.

This was worth reading.

Feeling significantly better than I was yesterday, but am regularly disappointed in myself for being so brittle, so easily broken. Insecurity and fear wait around every corner, and my appetite has plummeted. All I ever seem to see are signs that he doesn't love me anymore....and I know that's not true. He's grown understandly weary of reassuring me, but I can see clearly through his actions that he does still love/care deeply for me. After all, why else would anyone put up with this much upset and overall difficulty from me?

I miss my dog so much. :-( I honestly do not feel OK at all since he's been fostered elsewhere until I find a place.

Fuck it. I can't just sit here and let this kill me...and that's what it will do if I don't fight it.

Not feeling OK. I don't know why, whether it's a calendar/time related thing, or maybe it's that I don't have my dog anymore (he is being fostered by a good friend and I will be able to get him back, otherwise I'd probably be a real mess). It feels like my soul has been crushed into little fragments. My BF is back, and I am happy to see him again, but it's very hard not to be all clingy right now. I feel so fragile and sad. :-(

The thing of it is, most of the people who have those awful puzzle ribbons probably have the best intentions. They think they're doing something nice for people on the autism spectrum. They think most people with autism are kids (I guess that the perception is that we never grow up into adults?). They mean well, so they buy a sticker or a magnet or a T shirt.

But that isn't what we need.

What we do need is so much more involved that I can understand the urge to go for the hideous ribbon logos.

• We need for you to actually learn about us, from our perspective. This isn't selfish. We spend years in therapy learning to adapt to your world and to try to see things your way even when it makes no sense to us at all. We have to make major changes and pretend to be what we're not. Reading a few Temple Grandin books, watching the movie, isn't going to kill you or warp your mind.
• Quit forcing us to stare at your eyes and stop baring your teeth at us unless it's a genuine, from the heart smile. Bulging eyes and a red clown-like mouthful of teeth and a phony smile are pretty frightening, frankly. If we are comfortable with making eye contact with you or can cope with giving it a try, we will...but for most of us, we are better able to listen to you and focus on what you're saying if we don't have to deal with the discomfort (sometimes extreme) of full frontal eye contact for prolonged periods of time.
• Don't touch us without asking. Please. Please. Please. Also please be aware that many girls and women on the spectrum have been molested/raped because we had trouble reading social signs that would have signaled danger...and so unwanted/forced physical touch may be a trigger.
• Understand that a meltdown is not the same thing as a tantrum, it isn't drama or manipulation and it definitely isn't something that can be turned on or off like a light switch. Meltdowns are scary and awful, which is why we are reacting so badly..... If you were experiencing it, you would be freaking out, too. Just be glad you don't have meltdowns and if appropriate, get us to a safe, quiet place in a non-punitive way until the meltdown is over.
• When you see parents with autistic kids, don't say "I'm sorry" and act like the kid has a terminal illness! Would you gush sympathy like that if the kid had Down's Syndrome? Probably not. Probably you'd focus on the positive traits of Down's. Also, even if that kid is stimming like mad and not making eye contact, they can hear/understand that you are acting/talking as if he/she is a terrible curse on his/her parents. That does nothing good for our self esteem. Stop it. Also, may I point out here that an awful lot of these kids have a parent who is also on the spectrum, albeit high functioning and able to "pass" as normal? It hurts even more to be that parent and have people react that way! Autism isn't a death sentence!
• Also, assuming that savant skills are present is just as unhelpful. We aren't all math genuises with freaky skills. Just accept us for whatever it is that we are, and know that every one of us is unique, just like you ostensibly normal people are all unique.
• Don't judge parents of autistic kids. They're often sleep deprived and stressed out already. Their kids are even more stressed out. The kid doesn't just need to be hit/spanked more often in order to avoid meltdowns and if you think that's the solution then you're part of the problem, so just walk away.
• Wear less/no perfume. No Axe. Some of us have sensory issues such that we're hypersensitive to smells and can get a migraine or feel like throwing up when you douse yourself with perfume. I can tolerate mild scents, and enjoy some of them. Subtle is always better anyway!
• We aren't generally deaf. Talking loudly as if we are isn't helpful, especially if you're also staring us down. If it seems that an auditory processing problem is occurring, you can talk slowly and calmly and pause, also ask a question for feedback to make sure we understood what was said. Please don't get mad if we ask you to repeat yourself. We were trying to listen, but our brain sometimes needs extra processing time. This has nothing to do with intelligence, by the way, so you don't need to talk to us as though we're 5. Just slow down and be patient. The more extraneous stuff/sensory input there is, the more patience we will need.
• Following high-input situations, environments, or activities, we will need down time, to zone out and recover. This is true even when we were really enjoying the exciting activity or place we were in. Refusing to allow down time will result in meltdowns and meltdowns are awful experiences that require even more down time.
• If it isn't hurting anything, let us stim. Stimming is a coping mechanism for us. You people do weird stuff all the time; our weird stuff isn't any weirder, it is just different, and it is functional (coping).
• Please be gentle, kind and patient with us. If you don't understand, that's OK. Just give us our space and keep an open mind and heart. We aren't cold and heartless people and we can be hurt more easily than you might think.
• Boundaries need to be very clear, as we cannot intuit them with magical social skills. If we are doing something that is not OK, say so right away. Please try to keep boundaries rational, reasonable and respectful.

It's only the second day of April and already I feel like snarling over the autism awareness shit being spewed by people who are not autistic and who do not, in fact, advocate for us. Looks, it's like this:

Westboro Baptist Church is to gay people as Autism Speaks is to autistic people. They both claim that the world would be better off without a certain kind of person and that a "cure" is in order. And if that "cure" entails eugenics, so be it. If that church were trying to get donations to "help" gay folk, the outrage would be instantaneous, particularly if they claimed to be THE VOICE for gay people. Oh, sorry, I forgot. We're like cancer. For us, it's different. We're a disease that needs to be eradicated. Our parents want to kill us (YES, they SAY that!! They even say it on national television and are responded to with sympathy!)

I'm sorry, was that supposed to be inoffensive? Fail

The gay rights movement was not spearheaded by straight fundamentalist christians. The civil rights movement was not led by the Ku Klux Klan. And the autism advocacy/acceptance movement cannot be led by Autism Speaks or by people who adhere to that brand of hatred. Yes, hatred. Call it what it is. Don't sugar coat it with smarmy good intentions. Saying that the world has no place for us, that we need to be cured (cease to exist), and that we are a plague, that life is just so difficult with people like us in the world, etc is not kindness or advocacy, it is hatred.

And that fucking puzzle piece....Oh god.... That puzzle doesn't even look like anything! It is just stupid meaningless blobs of primary colors! What kind of puzzle piece doesn't go together with others to make a picture? Is that the idea, that we're useless and won't make sense no matter what, that even if the pieces were to fit together, we'd still be incomprensible? That is not advocacy, folks, and it isn't helpful imagery. Ugh!

Corina Becker: Communication Shutdown for Autism Awareness? No Thanks!

Corina Becker: Communication Shutdown for Autism Awareness? No Thanks!

It would be lovely to be able to discuss difficult topics without having a meltdown every time. To not live as if I have a hairtrigger, just waiting for the slightest thing to send me spiraling into a whirlpool of pain. To not have this headache, these gummed up eyes, this upset stomach and migraine-feeling neck pain. To not feel embarrassed and ashamed of myself for falling apart...again.

And sadly, it isn't the Asperger's. Maybe a little bit....the Asperger's certainly contributes by not being able to tell kidding from serious, etc. Mostly though, it's the PTSD, coming around the block to try to fuck up my life yet again, ruining another day that could have been perfectly good, leaving me feeling so fragile and frail and small and in need of comforting. I hate this. I really hate it. They say that EMDR will help and I sincerely hope that they're right. :-(

Anxious. Feeling insecure...ashamed of myself for feeling insecure....defensive. Stop, I tell my mind...stop. There's no reason to feel anxious. Stop, you'll ruin it by worrying about it being ruined, the ultimate irony. Leave that thought alone and just walk away from it already. Ugh....

And I think back...a couple of years back. Yeah. Look what letting anxiety run away with me did then. Lovely. Please, brain, stop. Stop tormenting me already.

Don't think there's ever a time when I don't want a hug, regardless of how asocial I'm feeling. :-/ Oh well.

Had a great day. Working with blueberry plants all day is centering and calming, lots of solitude and time to think. Counter-intuitively, getting that kind of quiet/solitary time tends to engender a desire for more of the same, rather than a need for social interaction. For me, social skills/ability to tolerate social interaction are like a muscle- I must use it or lose it, and it really doesn't take much time alone for me to want yet more alone time. By "alone time", I mean all alone, without people nearby. For example, sitting alone in the library would count towards social interaction that would halt atrophy of sociability even if I don't actually talk to anyone for the several hours I'm there, because there is still human energy around.

Human energy is draining. Feeling all those people around....it is emotionally and mentally "noisy". Oddly, large gatherings of Quakers are much less draining than the same number of other people would be. That human energy is still something I need a break from, but much less so than if they were a different group of people. Not sure why.

So. You see how I am, and my dad still thinks I should become a CNA. That just seems like such an incredibly bad idea to me! Taking care of the people I love and nursing them is one thing....doing it every day is another. Also, although I would likely love, nurture and care for patients under my care, the social interactions with co-workers would drive me nuts. Recipe for certain disaster....

Ah---> speaking of such things: mullein is good for relieving congestion and it grows all over the place (free, in other words). It doesn't have an exciting flavor, but isn't bad, either...mixing it with peppermint or other typical herbal tea blends for people with colds (rosehips, high in vitamin C, are another recommended addition) is the general course of action. How much? Oh, I don't know....a single leaf, or maybe a tablespoon per cup if it's dried and powdered.

I feel useless. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like to grow up in a family in which art was valued, nurtured and encouraged. Or if I'd grown up in a farming family. There were advantages to being born to a medical family, but as a result, I've always been pushed towards medicine, a field which is highly interesting, but requires math skills and/or social skills in order to succeed. Meanwhile, my true passions- all of them- art, animals, plants....went untended, unappreciated. Any one of these areas could have been cultivated with much greater success than trying to develop an affinity for math in a person who just doesn't have it.

It isn't that I'm blaming anyone; I don't mean it that way. But I lack confidence and belief in myself, in the very areas where my strength lies, because these areas have always been overlooked an tossed aside as only being worthy of hobbies or pastimes. I know, intellectually, that I have value and talent, but that recognition never really sinks in to my core/self worth. :-(

Have to move, the place I'm living at has been foreclosed on. Now what? The bright side: I've found a place to garden.

Perception is everything.

I hope that someday, I'll be able to love without fear, without the specter of loss haunting me at every turn, to be able to relax and enjoy the moment, to feel safe. There have been fleeting bits of time like this, so I know it can happen...but oh, for it to last, to be solid rather than ephermal...

Yay! Blueberry farm picks me up again this week!

Exhausted for no good reason. Going to fix up the fire damaged house and stay there, as it looks as though it isn't going to get foreclosed on after all.

Feeling discouraged and disillusioned.

The Family Dinner Table

A few years back, someone I admired and respected said something to my children about family dinners, such that eating together around the table as a family was assumed to be the norm for us. I cringed and blushed inside, not having the courage to shoot down this ideal that I hadn't lived up to. The truth is that I almost never have family dinners sitting around the table...not because I'm lazy, but because I don't like family dinners.

I realize that our society has elevated the family dinner to an essential ritual, that it's considered a hallmark of a healthy and respectable family. Politicians talk about family meals....sitting around the table together is the wholesome and traditional standard. One never hears about a happy family eating in a less formal manner. Happy families sit down and chat happily while sharing their mealtime, period.

Except that family dinners aren't always happy. For some of us, there are literally years of bad memories involving dinnertime and tables. There are parents slapping their children upside the head from across that table, making cutting remarks about the amount of food eaten, playing control games with that nice dinner, or forcing their kids to eat stuff that makes them gag. There are fights and scenes and general nastiness, cold silence instead of the happy small talk, none of it anything anyone would ever want to reenact, all of it so aversive that the slightest bit of tension at someone else's family dinner mkae my anxiety levels soar, makes my stomach sink with dread and foreboding. No, I don't have sit down family meals. And I don't buy that the sort of family meals that haunt my memory are healthier than the much more free form meals that we have. Convention be damned....there is more than one way of doing things, including eating together.

Nope. Landlord changed mind. Perhaps this is just as well; I was feeling like the ultimate traitor for considering giving up my dog, who has been there for me 24/7. What now? It's getting warmer and fixing the fire damaged cabin is beginning to seem like a reasonably attractive option.....

I am no longer without a place to live; in lieu of rent I get to do edible landscaping and gardening so also the problem of where to garden is taken care of! Work at the blueberry farm starts in a week or two.

The downside is that I have to find a home for my dog...ideally I'd like to have the option of gettign him back someday or at least getting to see him now and then. This is heartbreaking...he's the best dog I've ever had....but I have to have a place to live and without that I can't see my children to speak of. :-(

It has been said that sex is important and vital to men because it is often their primary source of physical touch and affection, that they need sex in order to feel loved....whereas for many women, romance and non-sexual affection is either a prerequisite for sex or even a very acceptable stopping point....which leads to conflict.

Perhaps it's a sensory issue, but I'd have to side with the men on this one. If romance and tame affection were all I got in a relationship, I'd begin to feel teased, tormented and frustrated in fairly short order. Within 2-3 days we'd be seeing meltdowns and real panic. It's been a problem at times, because as with everything else, selectivity is high. I need to be touched and handled, yet am unreasonably fussy about who and how.

In the course of pleasant daydreaming a few days ago, i realized that it's not solely about sex; it's a need for touch. I could probably be OK, truly OK as opposed to just coping/hanging in there, if instead of a daily romp, there were a massage instead....now and then. It does seem however, that a nice massage, whether given or received, would have a way of revving up ones appetite.....hey, it would be good one way and even better the other, right? :-p

Depressed. At times it feels as if the entire purpose of my life is to lose that which is most loved.

Ha ha... I am making trouble...in a mostly benign way of course....with a neurodiversity display at the library. I am so sick and fucking tired of the idea that we'd be better off dead, need to be cured in order to live a worthwhile life, can only acheieve success by living a life of falsehood (masquerading as neurotypicals), are either retarded or are not truly autistic (because, dontcha know, MR and autism are almost synonymous! Ugh!) etc. And when I hear these views voiced by humans who present themseleves as sentient, educated folks who should know better and who pretend to know what they're talking about....in a library , something has to be done about it.

It's been an interesting weekend. Better, I finally went to my meeting and told them about the fire, and am making headway on this problem/issue. The simple truth is that I hate to ask for help and I hate to get it, even when I need it rather desperately. I mean, I am thankful for help, but having to be the one getting it...oh never mind...there is just no way to say this without sounding like an ingrate, which I am not. :-/

Had yet another holocaust dream. I've had these dreams (nightmares) since I was a child, long before I ever heard about World War II. This time, I was one of three adopted children. Our parents loved us. I was wanted, I fit in, I was part of a family. These are feelings I have not known in my waking life. The sense of security was solid, real. But then..... Our father was a Nazi, and he was of a higher rank than some others...who were executing other children...children like us, except they hadn't been adopted. I was so conflicted and upset and afraid that we weren't safe that I was running away. At all times, my family was kind to me, I was loved...but seeing the blood of the other children spattered all over the other soldiers, the ones my father commanded, had filled me with such doom and fear that I felt compelled to flee. I couldn't understand how he could be so casual about these other children and have such a blind spot for the very same sort of children under his own roof.

Someday, I will belong.

My house has been out of commission for two weeks now and I have have no clarity on where to go from here.

• I could go back to it the way it is now, without an operational wood stove, and tough it out. The main problems here are that I'd have to buy propane or eat cold food and forgo tea,coffee and warm water. Also being able to get there. Possible modeling job coming up would solve these problems...short term.
• I could rally the forces around me (as if, haha..) and get the place fixed.....maybe. It could still get foreclosed on in May, no guarantees yet.
• I could do.......something????
• One thing is clear: I have to find work, and soon...

Why am I ever cursed with not belonging, regardless of where I go and what I do? Honestly, I don't care about money....I just want to belong, to love and feel safe, to create and grow, to nurture and think....to be held. Why has life got to be so complicated, why are these simple goals and pleasures so elusive?

The earth....I yearn for her...to bury my hands in her warmth, to feed her, to cover her with flowers and fragrant herbs...to taste her sweetness.

And as usual, this is a love I cannot have.

Not my style of music at all, but, predictably, I got suckered into the emotionality of this. Kids, peers, people in general can be so mean. To see this kid get the recognition he deserved really made me smile.

Digging up bones, to quote the song (confession: I used to love country music...twenty years ago).

What if I had failed to consider a possibility, one which, oddly enough, went unexplored all this time? What if the other half of the equation was less disparate than previously thought? Birds of a feather flock together, except when being a bird is a distinct disadvantage....in which case the bird might masquerade as something else....and occasionally experience conflict regarding encounters with other birds.

I figured out this morning why rejection hurts so much, why it cuts so deeply, why the aversion to it is so ingrained in us. It's because rejection is deadly. Humans are social animals, even the most solitary of us. In a very real sense, rejection = death. Think about it....

Sometimes I really hate myself for always being the one who's begging for acceptance. For being the one whose life has been spent in futile pursuit of quietly hoping to be good enough.

And....just became a Glenn Gould fan. Not only does he play Bach with the combo of precision, clarity and passion that I require in order to be satisfied, the guy is obviously on the autism spectrum. :-)

There was a fire at my house. I noticed it right away, called the fire dept right away, and we got it put out fairly quickly, considering that we used only about 5 gallons of water + fire extinguishers to put out a fire in the eaves....but there is now a big hole in the roof and the place is no longer habitable.

I dreamt that things were better, that I wasn't anathema, wasn't poisonous, wasn't mute. That everything made sense- the puzzle pieces of life came into order and suddenly the picture was so different than I'd thought.

I don't know....

Just recovered seeds from the winter squash varieties I used to have! The seeds are over ten years old, but some of them should germinate. Among these are strains I was breeding, including my Idaho Star squash. The flavor of that squash was so much better than anything I've been able to buy in the store....like roasted sweet potatoes. I had thought that the Idaho Star squash was irreperably lost; now there is hope and I'm incredibly happy about that. :-)

The only thing is, I have to find a place to grow them out at now, and that place has to be A: conducive to winter squash growth and B: stable, meaning that it isn't going to drop out from under me after planting the seeds but before they're ready and C: readily and easily accessible, because I'll need to be hand pollinating throughout the summer in order to keep the seed true (otherwise there's no point in growing it out at all).

So good it almost makes the day better.

There is no justice in this world. Everything depends on money. People/corporations with power and the cash to back it up get away with whatever they damned well please. It's so wrong. I feel so small, so impotent in the face of all the wrong things that happen, all the injustice.

Life is not fair. But the question I have for you today, dear readers, is this: Where did humankind come up with the concept of justice or fairness, since it's an ideal that's never actually existed in full? One doesn't have to observe nature for very long to conclude that it's not fair, either, so it didn't come from there.

Are juatice and fairness natural, sustainable ideals and goals to have? Why does injustice possess us with such indignation and rage, when it's much more the status quo than not?

I hurt.----->That makes me afraid.---->Being afraid causes me to yearn for reassurance and safety without being able to ask for those things.----->That hurts more.-----> The fear builds....

And I should take the anti-anxiety med, but then I shouldn't drive, and there are things which have to get done today that require driving. What I really want to do is to go help my sheep shearer friend for a day or two, but yesterday was the last of the modeling for a few weeks....so unless I can scare up more work, have to be very, very frugal with gas.

I am in awe of this. I don't even know what to say: Family lives for over 40 years in seclusion Except, maybe, Doomsday Preppers, eat your heart out?

Anddddd.....my former rival is sitting next to me at the library. I have loathed her for years, because the threat of her returning to the man I was with at the time was the primary factor in the degeneration of that relationship, even though she had zero interest in doing so. Now I have to take an introspective look and ask myself....was it her fault, or my own jealousy and insecurity that ruined all that? What a fucking waste of emotion, energy and happiness.

Look out, world: I'm getting Hemerocallis fever again. Apparently it was only in remission before....lol.

Won four games and lost one at chess club tonight. Does the lost game count if I was coaching a beginner along, helping them to play a good game so they wouldn't get discouraged...and then they beat me? At any rate, have to go model soon. I am so happy for the work- it's about time.

Holy shit. Alpacas are delicious! Better than deer or goat, better than elk or lamb, in fact, possibly better than bison or moose. Oh yes: it is that good. If I lived near a livestock auction, I'd buy these up to eat. The last time I went, llamas could hardly be given away...

I *must* find a place to grow crops for market as well as personal use, and need to find this place ASAP. Why not where I'm at? Because...even if it were sunny enough with reliable water, and it's neither of those things...the place is being foreclosed on. My goal is to sell at the farmer's market this year...but it ain't happening from my current site, I can tell you that. Meanwhile, there's a beautiful farm for sale for a very good price...and I'd love to farm it (don't care about owning it, just want my hands in the dirt!) but cheap as it is, I can't afford it and haven't been able to find anyone who can/wants to buy it and lease the land and barn to me.

If only I had remembered to bring my new medicine, none of this would have happened. I feel so sick in all sorts of ways.

I wish that I knew the right things to say, the right things to do, the right ways to feel and act. This is the hardest part of being aspie; no matter how I may agonize and plan in an attempt to not screw up, I do. Or, I panic with the anxiety of doing or saying the wrong things, melt down, and then I've really fucked things up. I just cannot seem to get it right....

But tell me, friends, not friends, people whose designated category I can't get right either: why are you folks so hard to please, when I'm clearly trying as hard as I can? Why do you make social interactions into a cruel game of riddles and unspoken clues and then shun those of us who fumble at it? Is it so hard to meet someone halfway, when that someone is wearing themself thin trying to speak this difficilt and foreign language?

And how do you manage to be so terribly lovable in spite of acting that way, when I try with all my heart, and am forever the cast off?

I had to sleep in town last night. My phone is dead because I forgot the charger at home (duh). My laptop won't connect to wifi for some reason. All of this is because I am a fool and should have stayed home yesterday instead of trying to go to town. It is my own fault...but it still hurts.

Slippers are done. Going to go to sleep now.