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

Monday, January 3, 2022

Aspergers and Holidays

Last year, I sent cards and easily, readily said the traditional verbal greetings.
This year, nope.
Don't think I said a greeting once, even after someone said it to me.
I don't do things by rout.
I'm not a mimic or a mynah bird.
I felt no holiday cheer so I didn't fake it to blend in.
There are many societal rules that I adhere to. Repeating holiday greetings is not one of them.

Sunday, January 2, 2022

The Willamette Winter 2021-2022

My 5th Oregon winter is proving to be my greatest discontent. We have received more snow and had a greater number of freezing temps than my first four winters here combined.
I left Michigan due to her six month seasons. Six months sun. Six months snow. I have awakened the past three weeks to the smell of Michigan snow. The one odd scent missing? There is no odor of salt. Unlike Northern Michigan were salt need be laid thick like a protective blanket, the Valley uses crushed stones sparingly. The whispers of salted snow are nowhere to be found. How unique that I notice it gone.
Layered in clothes, I cannot feel the depth and breadth of warmth from my core to fingertips. My hands are perpetually cold. I find my self drawn to handwash the dishes more. I believe it is the allure of warm water and temporarily warm hands that is my reasoning.
One thing I've noted in my daily, mandatory barista chat, is that the people here rarely complain. They may say words such as "I wouldn't mind if it was warmer" or "the daily rain is good for the trees" or the drought. They phrase things positively with rarely a negative spoken. I kid you not.
Pacific Northwest is a kind and caring way of life.
But me, the recent transplant? Well, I wouldn't mind if the snow decided to stop and the Sun thought about showing herself again.

Monday, December 20, 2021

I remember being little and how much it hurt

I remembered for the first time today, what it felt like to be little, nothing more than a pre-toddler, and endure having my mother wash my face after a meal. It felt like she was maliciously rubbing my face with sandpaper.
Everything, every small, ordinary and necessary thing from hair washing, teeth brushing, washing up after meals, clothes on and clothes off...those things hurt me. I cried and screamed a lot because the people, when they touched me, hurt me. They didn't know I was Autistic. They just thought I was obstinate, defiant, too sensitive or simply disagreeable. Autism wasn't in my family's vocabulary even though many had it.
My mother would put me in my room and shut the door. I was her most difficult child she will swear by it to this day.
I wasn't difficult. 
I was Autistic.
People were hurting me. Each day, every day I hurt from ordinary things. 
No one understood why Amy was so broke and unhappy. 
I remembered the feel of my mother simply, lightly, washing my face after breakfast. I cried. I cried then. I cry now. I was getting hurt all the time. I remember now.