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

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Memory and Living Multiple, MPD, DID

I was explaining to my therapist that I have two different types of memories. The first one is when I just know something, cerebrally, without pictures or words, I just know certain things. The second type of memories are visual remembrances where I can see it. Actually, there is a third type which is the flashback in which I am partially immersed in what happened and when. In an odd way, I prefer the visual and flashback remembrances because I can trust them more. I have no doubts that they are true. Mental memories, the first type, don't feel as accurate to me. I am Aspie and I am much more in tune with all that is visual.
 Some memories, like the aforementioned one involving my brother and peanut butter, I own completely. Even the different times where he brought me this cracker or that cookie, I, singularly remember it all.
 Now, the turn of the coin, the other two memories, I will refer to as Terror and be discussed later, I only recall a small portion of the individual memory. It's as if you go to a ball game and can remember the second, third and seventh inning but nothing at all about the first, fourth, sixth, eighth and ninth. My memories are separated into different pieces.
 This is a good example....I was three. I remember my mother screamed. I felt the thunderbolt, the jarring upset of her scream in my physical body. I turned to see her...then it went dark. Kinda like the lights all completely went out. It is pitch black, no sound, no sense of being, nothing.....minutes must have passed....some other part of me remembers what I black out. A short time later, I see my mothers hands wrapped tightly around my chest and I See her holding me, my body, slightly out the second story window. It's as if I'm hovering a couple of feet away and watching this crazed mother holding another part of me out the window.
 I recall seeing this, but I didn't feel her hands wrapped tightly around me. I have no idea what it truly felt like to look down from that second story window, because it was a different part of me that was being grabbed, threatened and held out the window.
 One memory broken into about three seperate parts.
 Trauma. Yeah, trauma causes dissociation. I dissociated about two feet away from my physical body and observed. It was an overwhelming experience.
 My brother and I had opened our bedroom window. It must have been the first time that we had done this. There was no screen or storm window was just a single panes window and together we had figured out how to open it. Mother walked in on Thomas and I as we looked out. She screamed in fear for our safety. We were all of twoish and threeish. I turned to her, then looked back at my brothers blank face. I know exactly what he was wearing, a blue and white checked shirt buttoned to the top button. I remember, I can actually feel, right now, and everytime I think of it, exactly what I wore, some type of wool, prickly, heavy jumper with green stripes, oh, plaid is the word I'm looking for. The jumper had two dark buttons. I had on a short sleeved, white blouse, as well.
After looking at my brother...blackout, no memory, no idea what transpired. Next thing I remember is mothers words "you could break your neck" or "do you want to break your neck?" and "you could be killed." Those are not exact words, but similar. Then back to blackout until I saw her holding my body out the window, which probably explains my consistent fear of heights and being afraid to sleep above the ground floor. Thanks mom, not.
At some point, those other pieces of missing memory parts will resurface, probably if I tell and retell the story to therapist or write about it enough.
Going off track a bit....See, when mom said "break your neck" it elicited some sort of physical/ emotional, deep seated response within me. Maybe it's the first overt threat she ever made to me, you know, saying the words and then scaring me half to death. Those words, break your neck....I was afraid that She was going to do that to me. And breaking ones neck was probably very painful. In my head, "don't hurt me, don't hurt me."
Anyway, enough for now. Lots to process.
Have a good night.


  1. All things considered, I think that it will take you some time to process all of your memories, and be able to put them into their proper place within your mind.

    Such a process does take time, but the better understanding of yourself that you will achieve, is priceless, my friend.

  2. You're right. Each week, I feel a bit more put together and understanding of who I am and what makes me tick. Thanks John