Prepare to enter the wild and wooly world of an adult with Aspergers Syndrome, a form of autism characterized by intellignce, quirks, social difficulties and downright strange and oddish behaviours.

People with Aspergers generally are high functioning in everyday life but have great difficulty connecting with others due to the inability to read faces, body language and subtle verbal clues. They also tend to take words literally and have a hard time multi-tasking.

Oversensitivity to touch (clothing has to be soft and often the tags removed), light (do not leave home without the sunglasses), sound (loud noises and noisey places are avoided), taste (many Aspies have quite a limited diet and are frequently very picky eaters) and smells makes the everyday existence more of a challenge.

Fasten your seatbelts and come on in...
To find out more about what Aspergers is..please check out my earliest blog entries

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

UGLY People

Ugly, to me, is not a physical body thingy. The only ugly people I have known have earned the title through repulsive, hurtful acts. And I know of them. And I lived with them. And I am repulsed by their ugly spirit, meanness, and selfish, righteous indignation.
Cruelty is only committed by the ugly. You can't see them, for their acts define them not their physical nature. Ugliness is hidden well.
Observe closely those you wish to fall in love with, as their inner nature peeks out in little bits, small slights, arrogant attitudes and their disrespect for their fellow human. They may live cats and dogs, even giving to charity but it is all a ruse to trap and ensnare.
Many ugly people walk around in pretty disguise. Be ware....always beware.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Sleep from the insomniac, Curing Insomnia the Natural Way

From my inner musings, insomnia seems to stem from one of three things: physical illness, childhood abuse or the agile, ever-thinking mind.
Sleep is a trust that the night will relinquish you in the morn and you will rise again.
It is faith and belief that you have done the best you could with the day...and allow it to rest without mulling or regret.
Sleep is a peace within that says "the future will play out as it should."
Sleep is the understanding that the beings, the monsters that nightly assaulted in our youth, are dead and gone.
It is the knowledge that dreams and nightmares will not linger once the day breaks.
Sleep is about being pain and anxiety free, and feeling safe.
It's allowing oneself the chance to be at peace for a few hours, knowing you will be able to conquer the next day.

Yearning for that Unknown

Being Lonely


Dawn is barely cracking

as the sky sheds it's darkness for a lighter hue. The portal of words has sprung wide open filling the anteroom. Pictures once on the wall, pages of memory maps, the layout of the childhood stomping grounds have fluttered off the wall and parade around my head...as if I could have forgotten the way of the walk to school and back. The names of the streets, colors and shapes of the houses; postage stamp yards; length of each section of sidewalk piece.
Sleep is the first innate gift to go, forever, when the body, the mind, the soul, is shattered with the rapist living in the bedroom next to you. For sleep is trust; trust that the body is safe and will remain unharmed in unconscious bliss of faraway dreams. Vigilance is ears on stilts searching, waiting, constant scanning for the sound, dare it draw near and high alert, blaring alarms signal the coming of the assault, the inaudible screams and the searing pain.
It burns as if a lighted match were thrust inside and cooling, silent tears quench, become the focus, trying to forget, make foggy.
Triggers are the sounds of zippers, the sliding of the elastic, the lifting of the flimsy cotton veil that protects nothing but a small sense of self.
There is nothing but the want of emptiness. A singular room, a bed to oneself, the breathing of but one, skin untouched, a nightgown that isn't removed, no fear of footsteps and a peace reserved for those unmolested.
The refreshing delight of sleep undisturbed was a gift meant for others not me.

Saturday, March 25, 2017

The Week of Disappointment

The sky was falling. It was a week of high hopes dashed against the rocks in sudden squalls. Throwing eggs at the hens. Holding my breath as waves crashed in spurts. Oft staying in bed is the best way to deal with the days, when they roll, one after the other, like this.
Sure, there was some good news. My car checked out okay at the garage. I heard from Eldest after four months. I shall refer to him as Rogue 1 from this point on, as the title seems most fitting. Not rogue as in bad, but rogue as in "off on his own." Nothing negative intended by the change in moniker.
My puppy ended up at the vet with a corneal abrasion. It's been pretty tough to put her in the cone to keep her from scratching. This is the first time I've ever used a dog cone and it's a helpless and frustrating feeling to see puppy with this strange thingy wrapped around her neck. It's scary for her and painful. The vet did give her pain pills which has allowed her to remain calm and sleep much, escaping her waking misery.
I've noticed the similarities in puppy's situation and my own. Since she has been injured, life has stopped for her. Her every waking moment revolves around healing from her injury. Nothing is as it was, for her. She's not normal, not able to play and do what she wants...she waits to heal. Her entire day is spent healing. Her life is altered, a pinpoint focus, right now. I get that. There isn't anything about my waking life that is average, playful, carefree or about doing what I want to do.
I'm wounded...damaged, seriously impacted by what's been criminally, viciously done to me. I live each day just healing. I've been wondering how much of my damage can even be healed or...maybe I should just accept this limping, bleeding half life.
Another note..
Since becoming aware of the egregious malfeasance inflicted upon me, in my last relationship due to my naive and gullible nature, I'm hesitate to enter into any type of intimate relationship, as I fear I am nothing but bait and a target whereby someone will come along, play nice, and misuse me as before. It's hard to have an ounce of trust when you've been quietly pounded into submission and nonexistence day after day after day after year after year after year. Yeah, still feeling pretty trashed and beaten.
Therapy is going okay. It's nice to have one hour a week in which someone gives a shit and isn't trying to trick or use me.
So the week is done. Good riddance.
Hopes run on a significantly lower level, when they run at all.

Saturday, March 18, 2017

Painting is Intimate

Bittern is a painting I'm most enamored with...
I'm proud of..
Revealing
Painting gives form to the non-verbal feelings that can't be expressed in the traditional way...
It's like getting a rare glimpse into the inner workings of someone else's world..
It's an outward sharing..
It's reaching out and saying "this Is who I am"...
Intimacy so deep...
I marvel at Bittern...Bittern- a small secretive bird in the heron family.