I Have To Stop Thinking I Am Normal

 I keep forgetting I am Aspie, socially inept and a basket case of anxiety whenever another human draws near. I daresay, an average being can tell that I am "off", different, a variant, quite alien in thinking and being, within engaging in conversation with me for, oh, 5 to 7 minutes. My quirks tend to leak out readily, whether they be the nervous shifting of body weight from foot to foot, my repetition of words, phrases, and entire paragraphs; lack of eye contact and generally having little comprehension of whatever it is that they are speaking to me about. I think I may have mentioned previously that I am a validated recluse and rarely leave the house and more rarely do I engage in human-to-human conversation except with the baristas at my coffee shop and my therapist for an hour or two a week. Seriously, that's pretty much my adventure into neurotypical world, scant and infrequent.

I am on social media to maintain a thin hold of everyday reality, the happenings, the new lingo and catchphrases, and for news of the world outside my home. I see these events, group events, outings, classes, that interest me greatly, so I sign-up or express interest or ask for more information or, dare I say, I even haphazardly commit to attending. Then, reality sets in like a cold, bitch slap to the face on a warm, sunny day. My biggest issue with group events, is that other people will be there. There will be interaction, either required, thought about or wistfully entertained. I will undoubtable have little clue as to what is going on and yet I would need to remember to not look stupid and ask any questions, at all. Heaven forbid, I would be required to complete a task or series of sentences for all to see or hear amidst my roiling anxiety and shaking, shattering disposition.

I did that again, today. I had expressed interest in an event that I would have loved to attend. Then I just emotionally melted within myself with, not cowardice but awareness. Awareness of my challenges. Awareness of past events that I have disastrously attended and the fallout of emotional exhaustion for days or weeks after. Shoot, I actually kindof committed to two events in the past two days. What was I thinking? 

I am not normal. I cannot do what others seamlessly engage in. It's wishes and torture to see happenings that appeal to me. I need to be smart and aware and, quite frankly, much more realistic about who I am and what I am capable of doing.

I like, no, I love my little world of One in which I am whole, complete, and perfect exactly as I am. This world only exists within my home that I inhabit solo with my little princess puppy and two dozen thriving and dying plants. You know, I got to be real. I need to stop looking at impossible dreams that present themselves like candy too high up on the shelf. 

Be real. Be me. Stay home. I'm good.

That's my great-great grandmother who looks beautiful and cold as ice and awesome. I've been doing genealogy again.

Watercolor Painting for Aspies

And When the Pod People Arrive They Will Eat Us All

Because I am learning how to do something through play, I think. (Maybe play is defined as not taking oneself or one's actions too seriously. Not sure. Sounds maybe right.)

And every once in a great while, i find this thing called humor, a funny, lol.

Let's get rattled, upset easily

I went out to water my porch planters and found a momma bird sitting on a nest of eggs. I jumped back, screamed a little, swore a lot and said many words aloud. It's probably, well, I'm sure of it, it is the most my neighbors have ever heard me say, out loud and to myself.

I'm so upset, rattled by this. I can't water the flowers, so they will die. I don't mind that too much except dead flowers won't further hide this very inconspicuous nest. 

What if the babies hatch and neighbor cats hear them? I don't want to deal with injured or dead baby birds as the mere thought of that brings me to tears.

Momma bird must think it's safe. In reflection, I have seen her fly off my porch only to land nearby and monitor me. She must think they are safe there.

I mean, I know I don't leave the house much, so she has made note of that and deems my porch a worthy location.

I'm wracked with worry now. My pleasant activities and ideals of the rest of the day have stopped. I'm jumbled, bumbled and in a quandary of a quagmire and just plain rattled.

Bummer. I hope they make it.

I was playing with my new watercolors this morning....

Time

I lead a quiet quiet life

Happily living alone. I have little to no need for in-person, human interaction. I have very little that I feel requires saying.

Observing, it seems like I am anomalous in my verbosity.

My life is good. I just don't talk much nor do I want to engage with others.

I am just as important and vital as any other being. This girl does not have much to say. I am okay.

I get fixated and write and write and write until it makes sense

 When I come across weird facts that boggle my mind and I just cannot comprehend them, I will unrelentingly write and rewrite and write the information repeatedly, and over and over, ad nauseum until it makes a little sense, I just don't care anymore or I've become fixated on something else.

Case in point, when I was doing genealogy research, a great fun hobby interest that provides tons of research opportunities, I discovered that not only was my double great grandmother a whore, prostitute in Grand Rapids, Michigan in the earl 1900's, but also that my 3rd great grandmother was married and divorced five times from the mid 1800's until her death in 1917. Five times. Five husbands. Eight Children, At least four divorces that I have found actual records for.

I am related to this person. It fascinates and boggles me. I did not even know divorce existed in the second half of the 1800's. Really. I did not know this. True, it was a somewhat rare phenomenon but my grandmother utilized the system with great frequency.

It appears that she usually married someone at least 10 years her senior, an older man.

Here is me, her great-great-great granddaughter (I think I got that right, not really sure) writing about her life. I think she is one of my most fascinating relatives and it would have been fun to meet her and find out why she married and divorced so much.

And, oh yes, I continue to write about it, currently in a new notebook, to further discover and make sense of it all.

My 3^rd Great Grandmother

Harriet A. French Bates Lee Taylor Merritt Rice

Harriet A. French was born to Marvin and Annie Amy Heath French in Ohio, probably Freedom, Woods County on January 10^th of 1841. The 1850 census is the first record for her and that is in the aforementioned location.

1858 At age 18, Harriet marries George S. Bates, a 30 year old painter who was born in Vermont. They live in Homer, Calhoun, Michigan. How and when did Harriet move from Ohio to Michigan and how did she meet George?

1859 Son Charles Franklin Bates is born on July 15 (d. March 10, 1909 at Michigan Hospital for the Feeble Minded & Epileptic, Lapeer Michigan, at 49 years old. He is buried in Coopersville Cemetery alongside his mother.)

1860 Harriet, George and son Charles Franklin are living in Homer, Calhoun County, Michigan.

Divorce of George Bates

1862 Harriet’s 2^nd husband is David Lee. They marry June 21, in Homer.

1865 Her son William J. Lee is born in Illinois.

1869 Daughter Hattie Lee is born in Coopersville, Michigan

1870 Harriet is 28. David Lee 53 a carpenter born in New York, along with Eli Lee 20 born New York, Franklin 14, Ida 9, William 5 and Almira 1, are living in Byron Township, Kent County, Michigan

1872 Son Walter Lee is born (He dies in 1893 at 21 years old and is buried in Coopersville Cemetery along with his mother and brother.)

 Divorce of David Lee

 Move to Kansas

1873 Marriage to John A.J. Taylor June 7, in Ottawa, Franklin, Kansas

1874 Son, my Great Great Grandfather, Frederick Herman Taylor is born on February 28 in Ottawa Kansas.

1875 March 1 Kansas census finds Harriet Taylor 34, born Ohio, from Michigan; Ida Bates 14 born Michigan, from Michigan; Allie Lee 5 (Almira) born Iowa, from Michigan; Walter Lee 3 born Michigan, from Michigan; John A. Taylor, 49 born Michigan, from Michigan; and great great grandpa Fred Taylor born Kansas

 Move to Michigan

 Divorce from John A. Taylor

1880 Harriet is head of household and has moved back to Coopersville, Michigan with son Frederick H. 6; Franklin Bates 20; Mary I. Blackmer 18 daughter, Harley J. Blackmer 2 months old, grandson; William J. Lee 15 son.

1893 death of son Walter Lee

1894 Marriage to Gerrit Merritt August 13, Croton Township, Newaygo CO, Michigan

1900 Divorced Gerrit Merritt

1900 Living in Polkton Township, Coopersville, Kent County Michigan with son Frank Bates born July 1859; her status is listed as widowed, married 42 years and mother of 8 children, 4 still living. Living next door to dauughter Hattie Almira DeShane.

1901 Marriage to Asa Rice March 20, Coopersville, Muskegon County Michigan. She listed her name as Hatty A. Merritt French, so I am sure its her.

1909 death of son Charles Franklin Bates

1910 Mrs. Harriet Rice, Polkton Township 

1917 died January 14, 1917, Polkton Township, Ottawa County, Michigan.Buried Coopersville Cemetery with headstone.

        

Sensory Overload, Spring continues to vex me so

 This is my first Spring wherein I have lived in blackout conditions with shades continually drawn to keep out all light, or rather to prevent the overly dancing, dizzying new leaves from making my head spin and causing headaches and dizziness. I am not a good historian. I had to ask someone that has known me for years, if it is typical that I get so distressed this time of year. She assured me that I have not ever had this much difficulty with green leave and sunshine and wind. Individually, I have complained, stated my discomfort, my sensory overload at all three but this is the first years where windy, sunny days ate interfering in my daily functioning.

It is not just visual hypersensitivity as both auditory and tactile sense, what I hear and touch, are also at a highly acute range. My dog and my favorite blanket are both the softest and most touchable that they have ever been. At the same time, I am reacting strongly in the negative to anything that touches my hands such as kitchen grease, soaps, and anything sticky. I am, seriously, washing my hands and saying "ick" when touching things 4 to 10 times more often than, say, a month ago.

I am concerned at this level of hypersensitivity as I have not experienced this previously. What if I remain this sensory overloaded? Is this temporary or just a seasonal or my new normal? 

I can't touch people or have people touch me anymore. I used to like to hug a few people but now, I recoil from the very thought of it because it feels like it would be unpleasant and way too much. 

I'm having more and more days wherein I have no need to speak and my ability to carry on conversations, my being verbal, is becoming more and more difficult.

I have an increasing number of times that I want to put ear plugs in when I venture outside anywhere there is people or store music playing, due to loudness. I can't remember the last time I actually listened to my car radio or a CD. I just have no tolerance for any more stimuli.

Is this the new me? Or just temporary high Autism days and weeks? Should I work on adjusting to this new normal? Or anticipate downward sensory overload? I have no answers. All I know is that right now Autism is the highest it has been and it is affecting every aspect of my waking life.