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 22, 2014

The Will to Live




Do you think that everyone is born with an identical golden coin that is the physical embodiment of "the will to live"? I wonder. Is everyone given the same sized coin? Is it a conscious or subconscious desire to want to live from day to day? I wonder if external factors are a consideration or if it's just a token we each have.
 I say this because I seriously wonder, if I ever had a conscious desire to see the next day. I lived precariously, struggling within each moment, never having a handhold or a vision of hope or of anything better. I strongly question how I survived to this point. It almost seems a cruel, sick joke. I don't recall ever feeling a desire to live. A desire to die, well, yeah, that was always present. I felt it inwardly since I can remember and it manifested, strongly, when I was nine. It's been a conscious and subconscious force within, ever since.
 I just wonder.
 What if I found this mythical, hypothetical gold coin of desire to live? My, wouldn't that have a strange, heavy feel in pocket or hand.
 Somehow, for better or worse...I got to this point. It continues to stymie me. Life has ever even a gift, just a painful struggle.