Then there's this thing where people say that they love me, win me over, earn my trust.....and then....they change their minds. My mother. Every man I've ever loved. They love me for a while. Or maybe they just like me, who knows. And although it was a shock at first, and it's still always excruciatingly painful, by now it is at least predictable: something changes. I'm not sure what changes. They don't tell me. But the niceness, the tenderness, the sensitivity fades. Sometimes they love someone else instead. Sometimes it just dies for what appears to be no good reason. Most of the time I don't get any answers or explanations at all.

I don't know if I can take it anymore. How many times can a person hope and strive and fight with all their might to keep things alive, only to hear that love is merely a concept, or just meaningless words, or....whatever it takes to explain away the fact that it's fucking gone, AGAIN.

Love isn't meaningless to me. Love is everything. Love is the thing that makes you fight and strive and splash and continue to swim upstream. Loving someone who no longer feels the same way is like trying to plow with a team of horses when one of them has decided to walk off and graze while the other one keeps plowing.

I guess I sound kind of angry....but I'm so tired of the pain. If people are merely enthusiastic, enthralled, infatuated, sexually interested, or whatever, they should use a different word. LOVE is a word that means something. It involves struggle and work and commitment and loyalty. If that's not what people mean when they say it, they should say a different word. :-(

I've come to the conclusion that I don't really know how to be loved.

I know how to love other people. I know how to cry and grieve and pine away for the people I love. Noticing and cherishing all the little details, the nuances, all the tiny things that other people don't see....and hiding them away in my heart's treasure box....I'm very good at that. Keeping the spark or the ghost of a spark alive for years, for decades....I can do that, long past the point where others would have given up hope.

But accepting love....that's a problem. Believing that I'm lovable or good enough to be loved...I don't even know how to get there. I've spent years of my life engaged in unrequited love affairs. When someone wants to love me back, what? What's that? That can't be real. There's a catch somewhere. It's a trick.The pain is coming, I know it. I see the hints of impending heartbreak where others don't. I can smell pain a long ways away....and I'm ready for it, because pain is what I know intimately, deeply. Gut wrenching, mind numbing, crippling pain...I dread it and hate it...but it's oh so familiar and I know how to deal with it. Being loved? I want it more than anything in the whole world...but then when I get it, it's so hard to believe and I have no idea what to do with it. :-/

Feeling disenchanted, lonely. Also my head feels spinny, but enough sleep deprivation will do that. Grrr.....

And...got triggered again today. It doesn't take much, but the triggers can be identified. The thing is, it happens so easily. It hurts me so much. Little things that shouldn't trigger me so badly, do. I feel so vulnerable and weak and ashamed of myself. It's horrible and I hate having to deal with it.

I try to tell myself that I was worse a year or two ago. That I'm actually doing better. It's not convincing enough. I don't want to feel this fragile, this easily shaken up, for the rest of my life. :-(

I would really like it if I could have a relationship in which the other party and I loved one another to the same degree/in the same way. I'm not saying that I need to "fall" in love. Growing into love would be fine. It wouldn't have to happen simultaneously. Or with fireworks. I just want to know that I'm safe, that the other would be just as injured by the loss of me as I'd be by the loss of them. I want to know that I am not disposable.

OK, so I just wrote that, and it looks selfish to me now. :-(

Things are improving. To all of you who have been holding me in the Light, thinking good thoughts for me, thank you. It does help, and I do appreciate it.

I don't know if it's going to work. I want it to work. However, I'm not sure that my wanting things to work is adequate. Meanwhile, I am deluged and completely underwater with things that need to be done before winter and preferably before school starts. Summer....gone. Irretrievable. Forget it.

What goals do I have for myself, my family, the earth, and life in general?

Do my daily actions, thoughts, activites, and associations with other people contribute towards these goals?

To what extent is my life being lived intentionally, and to what extent is is merely happening, with me as a spectator?

Am I consciously making the choices/decision in my life, or am I allowing others to decide for me, because it is easier/less conflict/more cooperative?

Am I doing things the way they're being done out of habit?

Am I valuing myself, my time, my resources, thoughts and feelings, the way I would like other people to value these things?

How can one objectively differentiate between a compromise which is fair, and inequity?

If the next year or five years is just like this one, more or less, how will I feel about that?

If that isn't what I want, what could be changed? How realistic is this?

Are my goals and ideals realistic? Are there things I am willing to sacrifice? What is essential, what is negotiable, and what is unrealistic/unattainable?

Am I careful to consider other perspectives and priorities besides my own? How can I set boundaries which are healthy for all parties concerned?

What can I do to facilitate understanding and dialogue? How can we deal with hurt feelings without causing more hurt?

Am I careful to listen as completely as possible, without planning a response or refutation? Am I listening with my heart rather than my ego? Am I responding carefully rather than merely reacting?

Feeling brokenhearted. September approaches. Summer is ending, and overall, it's been more or less like I thought it would be.

September...time of decisions....stay away a little longer. I'm not ready for you yet.

He says that I'm hypersensitive. To some extent, this is true: hypersensitivity is one of the defining characteristics of being on the autism spectrum. Some have argued that it is actually the cause of all other ASD symptoms and behaviours....and the people who have posited this are themselves on the spectrum (google "autism expert sensory funnel"), which lends more validity than the average hare-brained ideas.

But there's also this: my average pain/stress/discomfort levels are already typically much, much higher than your average person. On any random day, if you scratch through the veneer, there's a boiling mess of hurt underneath it that I'd rather pretend isn't there. I don't have a lot of wiggle room. So yeah, "small" things will hurt me much, much more than your average person who isn't already frighteningly close to their max pain threshold.

Meltdowns: In Our Own Words

The following descriptions of meltdowns were written by a variety of people on the autism spectrum. In the interest of protecting privacy, I'm not disclosing names, but I will say that I have permission to share these quotes and also, I didn't write any of them myself. Also, all of these people are functioning at a level such that they can type or otherwsie articulate their thoughts.

"Meltdowns feel like vertigo"

"When I have a meltdown, it's like I've turned into a tree. I have to make a huge effort to utter one word (if I can) or move (without collapsing to the floor). My legs give way, it's like I'm falling down a deep tunnel and I can't climb out. Speechless, paralyzed and scared, terribly scared. When I find a way out, I will be aggressive verbally. I can manage to choose the words, but the manner is very choppy, blunt, like karate chops.. It feels like I'm fighting for my life. Usually I'll find a way to say I'm leaving now, or please leave me a moment alone. If someone is aggressive back, I may scream. Out of pure defensive mechanism."

"when i have a meltdowm i become agitated and usually physical and verbal....but usually i just scream. when i shutdown i freeze, tense up and am very quiet"

"I shake all over and feel intense frustration and fear. I also cry, usually to the point of being inconsolable. I may raise my voice to get my points across. There is no use in trying to reason with me when I have these moments. Unfortunately, when this happens to me, the people in my life react by essentially scolding and blaming me, which does not help at all!"

"When I have a melt down I scream at everyone and everything. Everything feels so unfair and it feels like no one understands anything at all. I'm not physical, but I scream and scream and scream. Then, it's OVER! Just whoosh. My anxiety is better. I don't understand it too well yet but I am getting pretty good at recognizing when it is starting and averting it."

" I can feel both meltdowns and shutdowns coming on so I try to get away before it gets to that point. When I have a meltdown, it's like I'm inside my own body watching my body throw this fit. I'm inside my head screaming "No! No! Don't say that! Don't do that! Stop!" but I can't make it stop. When I have a shutdown, I'm trapped inside this body that can't move. If I'm in an argument with someone while having a shutdown, I'm thinking stuff like "Say this..." but I can't make my mouth move and can't make any noise. Both are like having a seizure. I knew of a lady who was epileptic and when she would have a seizure, she'd do things like throw a table over in a restaurant or pull the stove over on top of herself. It's a lot like that."

-----------------------------------------------------

One thing that interests me about these descriptions is that several of the writers took the time to distinguish between a meltdown and a shutdown. I seem to experience the shutdown variety more often. It feels so incredibly powerless...like you're prey about to be consumed.

Next I'd like to explore practical help/solutions/advice for coping with meltdowns and shutdowns.

Links to previous posts about meltdowns:

Here

and also here

Feeling heartsick and very discouraged. I thought things were better. I was so excited to see him.

I would not for a minute say that things are all his fault, or that I am a victim. But I do think that problems get swept under the rug and stuffed away and dismissed instead of being resolved. I also think that we sometimes treat and speak to the people who are closest to us in ways that we wouldn't speak to/treat a regular friend or a complete stranger...and this goes for me as much as anyone else. The first time I realized how I sounded when I spoke to my own kids....speaking to them in a way I would never speak to anyone else, I was so ashamed of myself...but, we all do it, unfortunately.

I KNOW that I am flawed. I realize that I am hypersensitive and take things more personally than I should. Yes, I get anxiety attacks and meltdowns. Meltdowns and anxiety attacks are not a conscious, voluntary decision. No one would *choose* to have one. Anyone who is having one, or for that matter, who's had their PTSD triggered, would love nothing better than to have it STOP instantaneously and to feel better again. The rate of substance abuse among people with these disorders is high for this reason- we want something, anything, to either make it stop or not happen in the first place. Getting angry for someone for getting triggered, experiencing a meltdown, or having an anxiety attack can only do one thing: make it worse. It is not, unfortunately, something that one can "snap out of". And yes, as a parent of kids on the spectrum, as someone who used to be partnered with an aspie, I'm very aware: dealing with meltdowns sucks for everyone. They are a truly sucky experience.

It might be germane to this conversation to discuss what a meltdown is, what it feels like. Because now that I think of it, I've read a lot of reports of parents punishing their autistic kids and/or treating meltdowns as if they were tantrums. When I am feeling a little better, I'll try to find some examples of meltdowns I've had and elaborate on this icky, aversive topic....because as much as I hate it, I do think that every parent whose kid is on the autism spectrum should know what a meltdown feels like from the inside.

Went back and looked at text communications from almost a year ago. I was struck by the difference in tone as well as the content. I recall really, REALLY struggling to stay together last year....yet as a whole, the communications tended to be affectionate. When we fought, we were both sorry. There was more affirmation and affection on both sides. There was more respect. Also, there are a number of small details which I remember differently from what the text records show; my memory isn't as accurate as I thought.

What's changed this year? More stress overall. Job loss, an additional concussion. The chronic, long term stress caused by a prolonged recovery, exacerbated by already existing health issues on both sides. But also, a kicking and screaming inner resistance against wanting a repeat of 2013's summer. I really wanted quality time this year, felt like I'd endured a horrible winter and wanted to bask in the reward of the summer sun and warmth and take advantage of some of the fun stuff our area offers this time of year. This hasn't materialized as I had hoped and my emphasis on wanting it seems only to have cemented against it. I will admit to growing grudgy, crabby, and jealous on this count, and to struggling with comparisons with other women, wondering what they've got that I don't. I have been feeling really negative and pessimistic about these things. Have been thinking of them as "The Popular Girls", "The Birthday Girls".....and so on....which, honestly, doesn't make me feel any better. I have agonized over what shortcomings I might have, why I might not be good enough for the things that these other girls get, and for happy outdoor adventures. Have kicked myself for not having enough money, thinking that if I had money, things would be different/better/whatever. I have been feeling bitter, left out, socially excluded, like I'm back in grade school again. That stuff people say about negativity hurting the bearer of it more than other people? It's true.

Meanwhile, I could be doing fun outdoor stuff with my kids. Yes, it would be 200% better if my partner was with me. Yes, it would be nice if we could have quality time. All I really, really wanted this weekend was to be able to talk to him about farming stuff...but I wasted most of my weekend feeling sad and left out. I need to just give up on hoping for his participation/involvement and resolve to do that fun stuff whether he's there or not, and NOT waste time moping around, hoping that he'll go on a walk or a bike ride or to the beach with me, if I'm patient. I wish that I could do these things with him, but sitting around feeling upset about it is just unproductive and makes me feel even more sad.

That moment when you realize that it doesn't matter....that your feelings, thoughts, whatever are actually pretty irrelevant. :-/

I really, really need a hug right now. :-(

Why teenagers act crazy sometimes is the name of this article, but I found what they had to say abotu the amygdala, anxiety, and the formation of PTSD in adolescence very, very interesting. Thanks to Rantwoman for this link!

It's really pathetic, but at the most basic level, all I want out of the people I love is to feel that I'm good enough and that they feel the same way towards me as I do them. That doesn't sound like much, yet it does not happen. :-(

I will never understand why people who are blessed with social popularity aren't simply content to bask in the glory of having lots of friends/acquaintances. Why, with all that love and attention, isn't it enough? Why do many of them feel the need to misuse this gift via various social headgames/manuevering/cliques, etc? I like to think that if I were popular, I'd befriend the underdogs and behave especially kindly towards other people, especially if I were an extrovert who enjoyed being aroung people. I like to think that I'd be basically the same person I am now, except that I'd be socially savvy, relish human company/energy and have lots of friends. That I'd still be the same doggedly loyal person I am now, only new-shiny-better-improved-loved extra more, that I wouldn't take people for granted.

But maybe it doesn't work that way. Perhaps the primary reason I'm the way that I am is because the friends that I do have are prized, because there aren't many of them. Maybe if I had more friends than time, I'd cherrypick, high grade, and put some of them into fairweather only categories.

If friends were easy and readily available, would I drop everything and make personal sacrifices to go help them with some crisis or emergency, especially if it were one that wouldn't affect me if it went to hell? I like to think that I would, but realistically....maybe at some point triage comes into play. :-/

Exhausted. Here's the deal: when you get a concussion you should not ride on a roller coaster, particularly one with a lot of velocity, centrifugal force, and sudden changes in direction. Also, one should take care not to bump their head again. One should attempt to sleep much, eat regularly, avoid stress and strike a balance between sufficient rest and resuming normal life.

If you disregard this stuff, your brain relapses to an earlier stage in the recovery process, setting hard won progress back.

I do not feel good. Just getting through the day is consuming all the strength I have. And for whatever reason, I would never have suspected that the roller coaster might not be a good idea. :-(

Feeling disillusioned and fragile, as if my heart were that lacy thin, delicate pattern of osteoporotic bone. I always hope for nice things, good things, for things to actually work out for a change...but I always expect the worst, that there was some misunderstanding and that nice thing is not really going to happen. And sure enough. You would think that since it was expected anyway, it wouldn't be upsetting....but it is. I always kick myself around the block for being stupid enough to have hoped for anything different. He says that I "awfulize". There's truth in that, but what he doesn't seem to see is that expecting the worst and bracing for it is a protective mechanism. Imagine, if I honestly thought everything I hoped for was really going to happen, how crushed I'd be? Been There. Done That.

Started a blog for farm stuff at avellana farm. This is not the official website, but all farm related/animal stuff will be posted there.

thank you.

Feeling lonely. Sad, because I cannot draw anymore. House is all quiet. :-(

Don't think I want to identify as a feminist any longer. Things like this... The constant blaming of men for every damned little thing, including things women have embraced and chosen to do, such as perpetuating this idiotic female ideal body type of being stick thin. Saying that a single wolfwhistle or an appreciative male glance is "rape" or "sexual assault". Give me a fucking break. I've been raped. I've been sexually assaulted. I've also been whistled at and looked at. These things are not anywhere close to being in the same category. Also, fact of the matter is, women objectify men a lot, too. No? Consider: What's the first thing your family asks when you tell them you have a new boyfriend? They want to know what he does for a living. Our society treats men not as *people* but as money makers. "Breadwinner" is supposed to be a compliment, and we just expect them to suck it up and deal with it, AND to put up with being demonized for what bad men have done to women.

I'm tired of discriminating against one gender under the excuse of defending the other. What about supporting people?

When was the last time you heard someone chortle with glee over a male criminal going to prison and getting ass raped? Or, if not glee, prison rape is something which gets shrugged off. "If they didn't want to get raped, they shouldn't have gotten themselves in prison". Yes, people say horrific, awful things about women who get raped, but at least their rape is acknowledged some of the time. When it happens to a guy....chances are, nobody will ever know, not even his doctor. He won't get support, there won't be justice, and there won't be healing.

Also, I'm sick and tired of dividing the world into two camps, MEN and WOMEN, as though we were two warring armies. There are shitty men, shitty women, shitty intersexed people, shitty trans people probably, although I haven't met any yet. There are also good,fairminded people, and that has nothing at all to do with genitalia. I don't feel that I can hold values of equality while demonizing half our population and blaming all kinds of random shit on them. It's not that I don't think women shouldn't get equal treatment, fair wages, etc....but it is becoming increasingly clear to me that this business of painting all men with broad brushstrokes is the wrong way to do that.

A lot of the stuff my therapist tells me to do feels unnatural/dishonest/etc. For example, she has told me not to talk about certain things with my partner, even if those things are really bothering me. Or, some of the stuff she tells me to do feels like head games/manipulation. I am not very good at doing what she says to do. In fact, I usually don't, because it feels contrived. I'm not good at pasting a smile that I don't feel, onto my face. She says that men need to feel like they're in control. That masculine energy is oriented towards problem solving/fixing stuff. That I need to be more feely and to talk about how things make me feel. I cannot see that expressing my feelings that way is a good thing. It seems to me that he is somewhat overwhelmed with/disgusted by the degree of feeliness that I already express, which is generally less than that of most women, IMHO.

And I'm not sure what the answers are:

• Am I fundamentally incapable of having a stable relationship?
• Is this therapist a good fit for me?
• Is it *this* relationship? It's really hard for me to open up and trust someone, and despite our differences, we're still fairly compatible and, except for a couple of really unpleasant areas, fairly happy together. I am disinclined to simply discard someone that I love, in the spurious hope of finding something that magically works with minimal effort.
• Am I not expressing/articulating what I want, in a way that can be heard, rather than dismissed?
• Or am I too pushy and need to STFU and be glad for what I have, even though it feels that that has just been drastically, abruptly pruned?
• Am I too trusting?
• Not trusting enough?

I am flashed back to my teen years, the dinner table. It is not my day to sit next to Mom. We have to take turns, because everyone wants to sit next to Mom, and nobody wants to sit next to my stepfather, with his arsenal of toothpicks, etc. She has just served us all dessert along with our meal. My stepfather's fork, as much a weapon as an eating implement, takes a bite of my dessert. You cannot save desssert, or anything good, for last in our family. I protest. He chuckles and takes another bite. I start in on my dessert, because if I sit there whining about it, the entire thing will vanish in the meantime. I have to eat it as fast as I can and get what's good before it goes away, but the very act of having to fight for it steals away the enjoyment of it. And in case you're wondering, no, I couldn't steal a bite of the cake from HIS plate. He'd stab me with the fork if I tried.

There are people who enjoy struggling for, fighting for what they want, and who feel gratified when they get it. I'm not such a person. I don't want to have to fight for things. At the moment when I have to assert myself, the appeal of getting whatever it was that I wanted, is reduced, especially if that was something fairly basic that other people just get and take for granted.

I don't know what the answers are. I miss my old therapist. He would tell me when I was out of line and point out things that weren't as bad as I thought, and he never told me to act coy and manipulative.

So tired of pain. Why do things have to hurt so much. Why am I always hoping things will be good, and then when it turns out that this is not the case, of course, what the hell was I thinking, it's always such a blow, when any fool could have seen it....but not me. Nope, not me. I just keep going through life hoping that nice things will happen and then feeling crushed when they don't. I do not learn.

There's a new theory going around about autism: Intense World Syndrome. I could post a link, but it's all over google, not hard to find. In a nutshell, the idea is that our nervous system is wired such that everything is SO INTENSE and SO OVERWHELMING, and we can't really filter it, so that we do typical autistic stuff like tuning it out, seeking mental comfort in routines and rhythmns and stims, zoning out, and trying as hard as we can to numb ourselves to the many, many averisve experiences in the world.

• Eye contact? Isn't just eyes. Feels like you're staring and prying into my soul. Get OUT already!!
• Several people talking, plus scads of atmospheric noise (lights buzzing, clock ticking, someone on the other side of the building sneezing, air blowing, doors opening and shutting)? I'm really sorry, but I hard maybe a tenth of what you just said to me, if that. There's too much noise.
• Scratchy clothes? I can't NOT think about it. The scratchiness is there in 3-D living technicolor, driving me nuts, and the more I scratch, the worse it gets.
• Room deodorizers? They make me SICK. I still smell the fecal odors, now it just smells like chemicals and flowery feces, and that's disgusting, lots worse than plain old shit.
• And...the list could go on for a long, long time.....

And so yeah, I more or less agree with the people who came up with this theory. I haven't put a lot of time into studying their proposed therapies based on the theory, although I understand that the therapy is controversial because "untested" and "could do more harm than good". Well, talk about alarmist. Nobody seemed to worry about that when they were trying to train us like Pavlov's dog, with piddly little rewards and nasty aversives. There isn't nearly enough concern over the chelation "therapy", which is KILLING children, based on the erroneous idea that the kids are suffering from heavy metal toxicity.

Anyway. I digress. For my part, I can handle a lot of the sensory stuff, although it wears me down slowly throughout the course of a day. One area that has been and continues to be a source of real difficulty for me is the intensity of emotional feelings. Thankfully, I don't get angry very often. My partner has NEVER seen me truly angry and honestly, I hope he never does....but it's a rare occurence and I've been able to control it reasonably well when it does happen. "Angry" doesn't even begin to describe it. "White Rage" or, if controlled, "Cold, Shaking Rage" would be better descriptors. So luckily, real anger is a rare event for me, maybe once every year or three, and usually for a good reason. Emotional pain, on the other hand.....is the worst. Things that would hurt other people, or that they might just shrug off, leave me gutted, despondant, with a knotted stomach, aching chest, muscles clenched so tightly that I'm in physical pain....the only thing I can compare it to is having am abcessed tooth in your soul. And sometimes it goes away, sometimes I can reason my way through it or it wears off, but other times, I find myself haunted and virtually crippled with an agony that does not fade soon enough. Sometimes things hurt me for years. I don't know where I was going with this. I got to thinking about stuff and now feel a little triggered. Going to bed. :-/

Sometimes I can hardly bear to look at you, to smell you, to be near you.
Sometimes I am torn between longing to be near, and wanting to run away while I still can, before it's too late, before I get broken.
I never claim to be a whole, balanced person, for I am not. I am a teetering mess of broken pieces, held together with masking tape and tears and determination and hope.
Sometimes I look at you and your eyes are so blue, and just, YOU....and something aches and pangs inside of me and it hurts.
I know that I am all fucked up, and there may not be any fixing of me. We try. They try. Who knows if any progress is actually made. For me, love and pain are almost the same thing, and I love you, reluctantly, fearfully, because I am always waiting for the pain. I wish that I could love people freely, easily, with joy and ease, the way other people do....but for me it is always a struggle.

You say that I think everything is about me, but that isn't true. I think that everything is about pain, which, of course, will end up in my lap, in my head, in my amygdala, driving me mad while my frontal lobes stand by in impotent horror. The smallest things, that happen, that don't happen. My brain screams that they're portents of immediate danger, that there's not time to think just RUN, REACT!!!! And, it does, often for no damned reason at all.

And it takes HOURS to stop running. Hours. Even then, I am like a jittery, spooked horse. And then, abruptly, just really tired.

Welcome to the world of PTSD.
.
.
. Sometimes I think that there isn't any hope. That I've been believing in a hoax, a fairy tale, a thing that isn't real. I want to believe that it's safe, but on the other hand, what if it's not?

Awareness anew today of:

• How hypersensitive (hypervigilant might be a better word) I am to change. Because in my aspie, PTSD affected mind, no change is coincidental; it must, if thought about long enough, looked at hard enough, fit into some pattern, has some sort of meaning.
• My attention span is shot. With it, my frustration threshhold also seems to have gone down the tubes. Is capacity to endure frustration connected somehow to attention span? Both are connected to energy.
• I am NOT photogenic. However, neither are most of the people and animals I love. I look at pics of them and usually think that the photo does not do them justice. So disappointing! So, why is it so hard to accept that this applies to me, too?
• My body is ALL out of shape. Not fat, just...flabby. Muscle tone is being lost. I am tired a lot of the time and sit around a lot, which makes me...more tired.
• Animals: really important to me. Baby chicks, little goat kids, cats, my dog....I just love animals....and would never be able to make sense of h uman behavior without first understanding animals.
• Livestock vs pets: My daughter asked me today why I like chickens so much, said I seem to really be into chickens lately, and farm animals more than cats and dogs. What I told her: No disrespect intended towards pet animals, but when you realize that an animal can be just as much fun, just as engaging, with interactions just as rewarding as a cat or a dog, but it gives you a wonderfully delicious food product ALSO...well, it's sort of like winning the lottery. It seems too good to be true. Also, you never have to find a new home for such an animal. If it becomes a problem, aggressive or whatever, you simply eat it or find someone else who wants to eat it. Most of these animals don't bark at night, chase bicycles, bite people.... And as a final bonus, their poop, instead of being an unpleasant waste product to be dealt with unhappily and thrown away (with much disgust along the way) is actually something you can be happy to have, because it's so good for the garden! I love my cats, but honestly, sometimes I feel like it's pretty much give, give, give to the cats and the cats give back purrs and affection (which certainly have their value, make no mistake about that). With chickens, you get warm, smooth oval eggs which taste so much better than store product egg facsimiles that they are in a class of their own, AND they eat your food scraps and food waste and are *thrilled* to have it, clucking with such delight that you feel no guilt at all about having not used that stale rice or bread or whatever. Goats give all the affection and engaging interactions that pet animals do, only you get milk that can save a baby's life or be made into lovely cheese....and they frolic and act ridiculous, making you smile even when you're trying to have a lousy day. :-)
• And...food. When I am so tired and pulled in different directions, with a schedule that's a mess, it can be hard to find time to eat at all, let alone eat something healthful. I am discovering that eggs are pretty damned close to convenience food. You can fry one in a couple of minutes. Can boil them for easy transport. Make an egg sandwich. OR, you can take your time and make scrambled eggs with tasty additions, or an omelette or a quiche or a souffle (haven't tried the last yet).

There were probably others, but obviously if they'd captivated me for more than 10 seconds, I'd still remember them now...because I'm funny that way. So, the next one:

We rode the bus together. I was in eighth grade, she was probably in high school. She was so cool! So preppy. Short, smooth dark hair, brown eyes, and ever so silent. I rode the bus with her for an entire school year and never heard her speak once. She sat and read a book, usually. Most of the time, I sat across the aisle from her, because she was the sort of girl who seemed to need her space. She emanated some kind of an invisible boundary. Rarely, the bus was too full and I would sit next to her, acting as if this were an act of reluctance, but secretly thrilled, attuned to every motion, lack of motion, or nuance she might betray. She never wore bright or colorful clothing. Sometimes, royal blue...but never the hot, fluorescent colors that were screaming from everywhere else, in the form of T shirts, hats, shoelaces, even.... Her clothes tended to be dark, and she sometimes wore a businessman's type of cap, navy blue. The air of quiet, slightly melancholy mystery, combined with a degree of androgyny, made her a sort of aspirational role model for me. In all that time, I said not a single word to her.

This is one of the more worthwhile things I've ever seen/read about autism/Asperger's/ADD/ADHD. Highly recommend.

Feeling exhausted and disheartened. Who am I fooling? Some people, maybe, but not myself. It's still there, ugh. :-(

She had dark hair that waved gently to her shoulders. Dark, smiling eyes. What I loved most about her were her dark, strong eyebrows. They were eyebrows with character, attitude, strength...and they were so sexy on her. She had a deep voice. She was kind. I watched her constantly, drawn to her, unable to look away. When she wasn't around, there was an empty space and I watched until she was there again, and then things were right once more. She was beautiful. I was terrified of speaking to her, but one night, as we sat around a campfire singing, I somehow managed to sit next to her. Maybe the darkness gave me courage. She strummed on her guitar as her wonderful voice carried the tune, a song that I've remembered long after the others have slipped into oblivion. She turned and smiled at me as she sang; I felt so shy, but so, so happy. Just being near her was heaven.

I was 8, maybe 9 years old.

So...I was just told this morning, that the Women's Conference is this year. The women's conference is every other year. When I think about it, this is correct....but...what? Where did that extra year go? What did I do in that year? It's such a disorienting feeling.

Some of this is no doubt due to the concussion, but I was also having some memory issues prior to that.

And...this little bit of reading...this little bit of writing...I'm tired.

I really hate the double standard that seems to be a fundamental component of the male/female relationship dynamic. And sure, the double standard cuts both ways, I get that. But it seems to me that as people, we should all strive to think outside the box, to think critically about what we say and do and whether things are equitable.

I want to feel valued. I want to feel that the level of importance and meaning I assign to my loved ones is reciprocal.

But I don't. I feel peripheral, like interacting with me at all is a chore. And I am self centered enough to think that it shouldn't be that way...that I'm worth something.

I am getting almost nothing done. I could try to blame it on ADD or executive function deficits due to the Asperger's syndrome, but probably it is due more to the concussion....although in truth, flakiness has been a perennial problem for me, just not to this extreme degree.

I was supposed to go to my meeting today and ask them for help getting me to Midwinter Gathering. I did not do this, even though I had fully intended to, for the past month or two, and today in particular. Why not? I haven't gone to meeting since the concussion...or, if I have, I don't remember it. Every time they see me, some new calamity has occurred- a housefire, homelessness, a breakdown, and now a concussion that left me stumbling and staggering like a drunk. Also I was mentally exhausted and in addition, tired of relaying the story of how I got hurt, tired of the pity. At any rate, showing up now to ask for financial help going to anything...seems pretty tacky. Still, I had committed myself to this embarrassing request, having affirmed to a person in charge that I would do so. But I didn't. Why? Well, because. I woke up throughout the night and managed to get back to sleep again, had nightmares that my favorite kitten died, and when I awoke in the morning, my shoulder and neck muscles were tight to the point of nausea. My partner kindly massaged them for me, and when I finally succumbed to his siren call of coffee and got out of bed, I was an hour too late for meeting. And then, as the caffeine pulsed life giving energy into my mind, I realized that the person I needed to ask is a snowbird and wouldn't be at our meeting anyway....but...that's a bad excuse.

And it's like that with nearly everything I do. Every little thing is such a huge effort! Even writing this. I feel so lazy....

This has been a difficult week. Nothing catastrophic has happened; I am just feeling worn down, disheartened, running out of hope, and like giving up.

I didn't hit my head very hard. So I don't understand why I'm as impaired as I am, 4 months after the accident. Yes, it was my fifth concussion....but...something seems not right here.

And my partner....who tries as hard as he can to be patient with me...he doesn't need this. I guess I didn't need it when he got hurt either, but that was beside the point. And really, who needs any of the unpleasant shit life throws at us? We all get stuff we don't need, want or deserve, and the people we love have to deal with it too. Still. Have to find a way to minimize the stress....