Touch Hug Smile

The Unreachable Aspergian

There are some traits that I perform very well. One of them is, I can become completely Unreachable. I used to only experience the negative, out-of-my-control aspects...those times I felt so overly sensatized that withdrawal was a natural, unwanted characteristic.
Oh, it continues to play into the innate defenses I've been born with, but there are times when it feels good, just, right and downright healthy.
I see and sense who I am and what my needs are and where I want to go.
It's about being unbridled, unbeholden and unaffected by someone else's opinions and drives. It feels like the sage autonomy has risen.
I answer to no one and feel at ease within myself, complete, unbothered.
Aspergers can often be more blessing than curse. Think about it. See it in the light.
  Be well my fellow autistics. Let your light shine if only for yourself.

I want to run away

Merry Christmas Sheldon and All

Plath Quoted

Sylvia is Happy

Solstice Haiku

Chronic or Sudden Illness

...is a big, huge Stop sign. Something we are doing in our lives needs to change and/ or thoughts and patterns have grown to the point of making us sick. Repressed emotions can only be stuffed so long till they manifest as illness.
Illness can allow us to have the opportunity to slow down, drop out of the rat race, search our spirit, ferret out the unhealthy and negative aspects of our lives and regroup.
It is a wake up call, manifested in the physical, but indicative of distress in mind, spirit, environment, choices, thinking and/ or body.
Toxic relationships, toxic thoughts and toxic patterns are just that, poison.
Take the down time given you to reassess where you are in life, how you feel, are you happy?, is work fulfilling?, are you amongst healthy people?, do you have an outlet to share your emotions?....what are you hiding, deep down inside...that you wish wasn't there? It will continue to make you sick.
Start journaling, write down your dreams, admit what hurts you and what you are afraid of. Talk about how your disease makes you feel. And what possible benefits it can bring.
I've never gotten enough sleep, like, ever. I've been in hyper vigilant mode as long as I can remember. My body and my brain have never had enough rest. Maybe that's one small reason I have enormous fatigue. Or maybe I'm just overwhelmed and need to chill, or get calm or....hmmm, focus on taking care of me? Strange thought, fer sure.
I think illness is not all bad. I think I'm learning a few things here.

Thoughts on "Into the Wild", Teenagers and Aspergers, When a Grown Child Suddenly Leaves

So many thoughts and much to say.
I finished the book, Into the Wild, and am thoroughly convinced, in my humble opinion, that Chris McCandless had Aspergers. My latest "red flags" are; He possessed grand-grandiose spiritual ambitions; He had a need to test himself in ways "that mattered"; an idealism that defies logical explanation; great concern for social issues such as racism and world hunger; inherent mistrust of government and laws; moral altruism- a challenge in which a successful outcome is assured, isn't a challenge at all; He measured himself and those around him by an impossible rigorous moral code.
I know of one other that has these qualities and I have some as well, though mine have been tempered by poverty and age.
  There are grown children who up and leave their loving parents, with little or no warning because they have to follow their own inner, innate desires. For awhile, after my son left a day after he announced his departure, I felt that I must have erred, made some mistakes and was a bad parent. It took months before I realized that his leaving had Zero to do with me and everything to do with his spiritual calling.
Let's face it, when the baby bird leaves the nest, caring parents get worried sick. We need to trust that we have done all we can, loved them enough, provided guidance by demonstration and example, and provided them with a firm, steady base upon which they can spread their wings...and yes, fly off and far away.
There is no fault, no blame, no guilt...some children turned adults need to get away and find out what they are made of without any support, money or phone calls from mom. Moms need to realize it's okay to grieve, feel lost and be concerned with their offspring, their fledgling and just trust that this is the way it is. An adult has the right to live their own life, as they see fit without any advice or assistance, if that is what the adult child wants.
My son returned after seven months abroad and about a dozen, one sentence text messages. I'm fairly confident he will leave again, abruptly, at the time of his choosing and off to places he will not share. I'm learning to be okay with that.
His life is just that, his life to live.

Chris McCandless and Aspergers

I'm more than halfway through the book, a fast and easy read, and have a myriad of clues that he had Aspergers. The signs and symptoms correlate precisely with those of my Aspie son.
It's eerie, unsettling and revealing. It's as if I'm reading and beginning to understand  my son's passionate desire for living off the grid and by his own wits. I'm starting to believe this is hard wired and not the result of an Aspie mom raising an autistic son.
Off the top of my head, here are just a few of the similarities:
Highly intelligent, comfortable being alone, dramatic mood shifts, difficulty expressing emotion and having relationships, doesn't listen to anyone who doesn't agree with him or tries to give advice, concrete goals with little consequences considered, does Not like rules that seem unfair, does Not believe in monotonous conformity, money is useless, moral standards are off the charts, his way or the highway, a certain few possessions are like friends, not things, very focused interests, speaks passionately about his beliefs and wants others to seriously consider them, charming and charasmatic- even one meeting with them is memorable, never to be forgotten, extensive vocabulary, love of all things nature, science, archeology; obsession with living completely independent and off of the land...the list seems endless.
The book is rather dry, in parts, where the author ventures off and writes of others on personal wilderness quests. Yet, at the same time, he gives Chris more depth that is left out of the movie version.
Autonomous young men driven by soul or spirit, to experience life with as few things and people as possible, testing their abilities and gaining what they need via personal experiences questing...in a sentence.
I'm understanding so much more. It's been helpful. Still, pretty damn eerie, but quite insightful.

I pray for peace

River

Earlier, I felt as a rogue river gone placid, calm. Nary a stir on it's surface. Tepid water, rippleless as I submerged to my shoulders. Individualized colors float on the surface, intermingling yet never losing their contours or hue.
Ah, yes, earlier today, I felt a foreign peace.

More Pain

Hurts so bad, I can't even think. Brief respites when I can sense the hidden sun.
Bobbing in turbid waters, holding my breath. Haltering tenuous steps that screech silently. Stooped back fearing each step, haltering, cautiously deliberating the ratio of need to body scream.
Movement, the slightest of which feels like a punch in the back.

Overspending

Coffee at Night with Sylvia Plath

A Kiss

Pluto and Once Dead Planets

I love my Discover magazine. This month's issue is a favorite with the Top 100 Stories of 2015.
New Horizons space probe and Pluto rank at numero uno. For 85 years, Pluto has been a fuzzy speck of light. But no longer.
New discoveries are true rarities in the age of instantaneous global transmissions. I'm utterly fascinated, smitten even, with this sudden unveiling of an alien world complete with detailed intricate landscapes along with new theories.
What struck me as most poignant was the fact that Pluto, it's moon Charon, and asteroids were once assumed to be dead celestial bodies, barren and nothing more than floating debris. Pluto and Charon were discovered to be dynamic, alive, geological active bodies.
Think about it, the hundreds of thousands of asteroids filling the Kuiper Belt, we're previously thought to be space garbage...now, each is alive, possibly geological active. Searching for an appropriate comparison...it's as if we thought the ocean was empty and lifeless, only to finally get below the surface and find it teeming with a plethora of species, fish, sharks, eels, jellyfish, starfish and whales. I was practically jumping up and down and my mind lept in new possibilities while digesting this fascinating information.
We thought we were the only planet and all around us was useless and dead. Now, the universe is alive and we are surrounded by enigmatic mystery bodies that may hold clues and information anew.
I've spent hours perusing and researching this topic and it's filling my days and nights with intriguing possibilities.
Okay, this is akin to the invention of the microscope...suddenly the average surface was found to be teeming with entire species and subspecies previously anomalous and hidden.
Science and Life is dynamic and exhilarating!!!

Heavy Metal Detoxing with No Tyme for Lyme

The benefits of the homeopathic spray, "No Tyme for Lyme", does not list heavy metal detox but I am positive that it does just that.
I remember my dreams frequently. I'm no stranger to dream interpretation theory and subscribe to it.
After starting, No Tyme, I have had three dreams of a similar nature, all within the first week. The first dream I found myself spitting out, into my hand, piece after piece of flat various metals, shaped like rectangular wafers.
The second dream, I looked at my left hand. Embedded within my thumb and first finger were two separate, rusty old large nails more like skinny daggers. My middle finger contained a two-pronged dagger which was causing me pain.
The third dream has proven to be the most detailed and extensive. I found myself casually walking around wearing a white shirt. I was staring at my left, and as I walked, metallic, mercury appearing liquid would surface out of my pores. With each step, more of this fluid. I would wipe my hand on my shirt whereby the fluid would turn a coppery tone. I felt uneasy and confused by this and it continued to happen but only with walking. If I stopped, the fluid stopped.
A second aspect of this dream...I was observing the palm of my, yet again, left hand. Vine-like, root-like small, thin...structures?, were growing out of the center. (Interesting that this recollection brings to mind a large, disturbing wart that I actually had, in that exact location in the 5th or 6th grade.) Being quite concerned about this..I'm not sure what to call it...grouping of ..growths, I stopped to ask a wise appearing man what it was. He stated that he had never seen anything like it before.
My thoughts now, are that these outcroppings were some type of metal byproduct...almost like a beige-tawny sludge, that was leaving my body.
  Thus, three different dreams portraying four different toxic substances leaving my body. Quite remarkable and a very positive sign.

I am hopelessly in love, Rosebud

Monster in the Mirror

The Somnambulist

Painting by John Millais

I've been having great difficulty falling asleep before 4 am. My body exhibits all the symptoms of tiredness and lethargy, yet my mind is as agile as a Spring day.

I tend to wander about the house. Is it frustration? Am I searching or in need of something, someone, a certain word or feeling?

Am I finding no peace, unsettled with myself?  Am I trying to solve a mystery?

I tend to snack frequently and food tastes better in the dark...well, chocolate does anyway.

I feel no fear, nothing scary going on. I'm restless. Tossing and turning to the point where I throw myself off the couch and pace and wander...hoping to calm my active, racing mind.

I feel unobssessed. Nothing particular is bothering me. Oh, I replay therapy, scenarios, art projects. Mostly I'm challenged to slow down and still myself, inside.

Nothing going on...above the surface...but I'm thirsty, I want something and I have no idea what that something is.

I'm not quite comfortable to sleep, like I'm displaced. Maybe I'm just distressed in some subconscious way. Maybe I'm fitting pieces together from opposing sides. Maybe I'm feeding a very old and distant hunger.

I replay therapy because it's this homey, strange place where I'm me and the things said and done are worthy of replaying over and over and over so I comprehend. Therapy and dreams are the only places where I'm heard, it makes sense, and I am free to be me...well, those places and nightime, that is.

It's safe at night. Maybe I simply need more of that freedom right now.

No Tyme for Lyme, new treatment

https://youtu.be/Eg05SFRGZFQ
So, I've started a new protocol in addition to antibiotics, supplements, Bee Venom Therapy BVT and acupuncture.
No Tyme for Lyme, check out the video, is a homeopathic product that works by changing cell signaling and pathways. It's hard to describe. I watched the video, asked questions in my BVT group and decided to try it.
Speaking of BVT groups, there are a couple on fb. I was in both but became disenamored with an All Caps, seriously, all her posts are egotistical and annoying all caps, administrator who demanded answers and was kinda weirdy.
Thus, I left that bad experience and like the one I am in.
The product is a light, mist spray administered under the tongue 2-3 times a day with 1-3 sprays each. Well, I started my first day with 2 sprays twice. A couple days later, I had a really bad herx and was back to being bedridden for a few days. That alone told me the spray Did something.
After a few days off of it, I started spraying once a day, only one time. The results are rather dramatic. My energy level improved! My previously numb legs starting feeling normal again And I could walk three times farther. My head cleared. I can think more productively and I'm not nearly as fatigued and sleepy.
The side effects that happened were some dizziness at first. That should have told me I was taking too much. I also have some unwanted thoughts...like my brow chakra opened too fast. I'm a bit more of an insomniac. My body unsure of what to do with this newfound, long lost energy.
It's hard to find online as its quite new.
I am not a doctor. I'm not saying take this. I'm saying it works for me and is worth looking into for my fellow sufferers.
It's early in this new avenue of treatment but I really wanted to share. I know, all to well, the desperation of having Lyme.

Some relationships be like...

Sylvia Plath in Love

 It's fascinating reading Sylvia's journals. I can readily deduce her mental states and how they vary in intensity. The first 150 pages, she writes in a deliberate, almost manic way. Reading, my mind whirls like on a roller coaster and I consciously try to slow myself down.

 Around page 150, her entire tone slows down, like heavy sighs and she languishes in relating her time with a much loved young man. She exudes peacefulness, inner longings finally satisfied. She is happy.

Lonely Haiku

How Others Treat Us

Silence is my favorite sister

See Me

I don't want to go to sleep, Sylvia Plath gets it

I need...

Sylvia Plath Quote....Sleep

Sylvia Plath on being a girl, a mother quote

Truth...suck it up

Truth is

Good as Gold ...almost

Living under a rock

I never thought much about myself

I feel like an Alien, Living Autstic, Aspergers Syndrome & Me

 Aspergers & the Alien is the perfect name for my blog because having Aspergers, I feel like an alien, like I don't belong and that I'm a perennial outsider never able to get inside. I'm odd and I know it, but can't accurately describe it.

  I feel as if I'm stranded on a strange planet whereby everyone is speaking a foreign language and my universal translator is broke. There are a plethora of social norms that I fail to comprehend. Words are highly confusing and subjective. Each being is like trying to decipher a code. Simple words and phrases, subtle and overt glances each mean something different to each and every individual. I feel perpetual confusion.

 I'm afraid to ask for clarity on questions, paperwork and in verbal interactions because I fear looking stupid, subpar and moronic. If I open my mouth, I risk ridicule. So I keep myself in silent consternation.

I'm not anti-social, per se, I just avoid drama, stress and sensory overload. I prefer to be alone because it is the least painful option. If I'm in the same room with anyone, my stress and discomfort level rises, multiplying with each additional person in the room. Living alone is my best option.

  I feel like a weirdo. I need to eat the same, exact foods everyday and my wardrobe is quite specific with button collared shirts and jeans. I pick my clothes for the day based on mood, weather and environment, if I have any plans or appointments for the day. I try never to schedule more than one appointment on any given day. Leaving the house, any social interaction wears me out and makes my head hurt.

 I am acutely aware that I am different. Sometimes I love it, other times I hate it. I am brutally honest in a world where half truths and bold face lying is rather normal. I have no interest in gossip, talking about or judging others. It isn't my business. I have zero thoughts on a persons appearance, what they are wearing, or how they choose to live their lives.

 I don't understand relationships. I'm not sure if I've ever genuinely felt love but my understanding of hate and anger increases everyday. Feelings, emotions are these dense foggy clouds that are difficult to grasp and name. I feel a multitude of sensations yet have no words to express them. Eternal frustration would be an accurate catchphrase for me. Lost within myself and my own abstract thoughts and waves.

   Social obligations are terrifying and highly unpredictable, to be avoided like the plague. The amount of distress, panic and confusion is immense. I feel misunderstood, as if the only people that can truly understand are other autistics around the same degree on the spectrum a I. 

 Each day is a challenge to navigate. Figuring out what needs to be done and how. Time management is not my strong suit. In a way, I have no grasp of time and how long it takes to do this thing or that. I set alarms throughout the house to remind me of scheduled events and must do's. I have two choices, stay silent and confused or speak up, ask questions, seek clarity and risk looking like a fool. It's painful to yearn vehemently for independence whilst understanding that the simplest things can stymie me. 

 I'm trapped in a bell jar observing a world that I will never fit into or understand. Everyone is kept safely at arms length. Being a reticent recluse is natural for me. Speaking is unnatural, a forced effort that produces distress, exhaustion and produces mixed results. I'd prefer a quiet, silent world where people moved slowly, wore name tags and job descriptions and minded their own business.

 Friendships, like relationships are...funny, challenging, near impossible to succeed or sustain. I've grown to accept the comfort of aloneness. Ships are too risky, too much work, always end up sinking sooner or later.

 I am highly sensitive. I can walk in a room and feel tension, others pain or happiness. I avoid eye contact as I feel I'm intruding on the persons personal space. I see too much private info written on their face, in their eyes, standing beside them. Things I have no business knowing.

 I don't have any interest in television, celebrities, movies or whatever the latest fad is. I have no interest following the crowd, being politically correct or repeating the same mottos day after day. To me, the world is a trivial, superficial place whereby most adults are shallow and emotionally stunted.

 I am extremely polite and can rarely say a persons name without a prefix of Miss, Mister or Sir. I prefer to dress in gender neutral clothing and carry an overall ambiguous style. 

  I don't feel like I fit in anywhere. I've grown accustom to the inherent lostness, confusion, frustration and aloneness...it's all part of this game.

Shhh, secret fears that I feel silly about

You will rarely find me talking about the half dozen or so, secret fears that keep me awake at night. Saying them out loud...well, they sound far-fetched and ridiculous, even though they are quite real to me. Maybe I'm a little worried of my image, being laughed at or the look of "are you crazy?", that I've seen on people's face at times.
  I worry that I will do something stupid, something wrong that will get me thrown in jail, locked up or embarrassed for life. It's like...I'm not aware of unspoken rules and boundaries that NT's instinctively know. As an example, I thought it was okay to surprise a friend by looking up her family tree. Turns out that this was invasive and I was completely clueless. One friendship down. Or what if I'm driving 55mph but I'm not aware that I'm in a 35 mph residential zone? I'm overly cautious because I have this constant fear of accidentally committing a crime or egregious error.
  Those few who know me are well aware I don't have a mean, criminal, evil bone in my body...but being autistic, I make hellatious mistakes that haunt me for years. Yet another reason I tend to be hesitant to speak or act.
I think I've only spoken of this to one close friend. I treasure those friends who understand my autism and inherent harmless nature.
Just wanted to share. I don't know if anyone else shares this secret fear.

Food tastes different is its cut, chopped, finger food or forked

Long have I noticed that, say, a slice of pizza tastes different if eaten by the entire slice, cut into small pieces or very small pieces and whether I use a fork or spoon.
Granted, the palatable differences are subtle but most definitely noticeable.
It's a point I never bring up at the dinner table because I understand it's rather queer.
I'd launch into an analysis of the subtle nuances but I'm not in the mood for ridicule tonight.
This is a statement, a fact I believe. It's true for me.

Asperger's and Odd Eating Habits

I have highly unusual eating habits. I have  consumed the exact same  breakfast, peanut butter toast, every morning for five years. I love the absence of stress or thought involved in figuring out what to eat in the morning.
  Lunch and dinner are a different, more sordid story. Finding words to accurately state my mealtime dilemma doesn't come easily....but I'll try.
I cannot just eat anything. I have to ingest what...the inner chef wants and desires. If I have something that is not what "the inner chef" wants, I feel hungry even after eating a plateful of food. As an example, for the past three months I ate bologna/ pickle spread, once or twice a day. I'm a small serving, frequent meal kinda girl. If I ran out of bpickle spread and substituted last night's leftover chicken that I cooked for my son, even if it was a large portion, I would continue to be hungry until I went to the grocery store and made more spread.
For those three months, I made bp spread and pasta with sauce every few days. Combined with my habitual breakfast that was 90% of what I consumed, every day for three months.
It's a good news, bad news habit to have. The good, nay, the great news is the only thought given to mealtime was, do I have all my items? Do I need to go to the store or just cook up some pasta or grind up bologna? Mealtime was predictable, simple, easy and relatively stress free.
The bad news? Argh, the deeply unpleasant feeling where the "inner chef" wants to change the menu...and nothing works...I cannot find the correct food for the chef. I try this or that but nothing sounds or tastes good. The chronic, gnawing hunger refuses to abate. I feel empty, unfulfilled...nothing is right. I'm continually starving until I find the "correct" food for inner chef. I try eating this, that, the other thing but I'm still starving, no matter what or how much I eat.
My steady diet was at least three months. I think that was a record and I could see it coming down the pike, rolling down the hill, like an avalanche that I knew would bury me alive.
I wish I were joking, or at least capable of exaggeration but, honestly, it sincerely is a miserable experience between appropriate meals. Think constant hunger for a solid week. Seriously, it's non-stop. I am quite grouchy, off balance, insatiable and starving. My only hope is that my belly, brain and inner chef find a menu item that will work, and soon. I grow fat, despondent and more miserable with each passing day.
  I doubt few can comprehend my dilemma. I wish it were a joke or that I knew of one other person that experiences this.
This is not a favored event for me...this starving in-between time. I have no idea when it will end. What is it my body requires to feel full? The formula changes every few weeks or months.....
  Enormously unhappy

I don't like to talk much

...much, a lot, often. There is very little worth saying. I am an introvert, a staunch recluse, but I also find meager value in verbal exchanges.
Talking to myself tends to be warm, instructive and comforting. Speaking with others, well, I just don't see the point.
A large part of it, the i-don't-care-to-talk, I was born with. Autism is having little need or use for anyone outside of oneself.
I don't like to gossip and talk about others, and I tend to abhor talking about myself, so...it leaves me in...a quiet place with very little to say.
There is nothing wrong with my difference. I am a "lite speaker" who wields words with this...odd thing called forethought and weight. I analyze before I part my lips, not after.
The gift of gab, those incessant, long winded speakers who talk in paragraphs instead of sentences, I avoid, as that too, is an inbred trait that can't be modified or subtlified. Avoidance is the best medicine. Long talkers make me ears hurt, head spin and overwhelm me to exhaustion.
I used to think something was wrong with me for being of "litespeak"...but, I know better now. There is nothing wrong with me, not a single strand. It's perfectly okay...to have nothing to say.
I shan't feel negative about being kind and different.

Autumnal Haiku

I Don't Like Being Handed Things, My reasons for Chiraptophobia

  I've long known that I don't like being handed things. Just like Tony Stark of Ironman fame, I am quite uncomfortable if anyone tries thrusting objects, items, envelopes or cards into my hand.
I think the majority of it is due to the fact that I have Aspergers and my hands are more acutely sensitive by nature. I figure I have about 3x the number of sensory detecting neurons in my being than non-autistics...and they all work acutely well.
I remember the psychologist who handed me a series of cards for the Rorschach ink blot test. I immediately threw them on the table and refused to pick them up. In the psychologists 25 years of testing, he obviously, never once, took a little soap and water and wiped the cards down. They felt positively grimy and most icky. I don't have a fear of germs, mind you, it was simply too much for my hands to process...Like a sudden, overwhelming feeling akin to my hands being slightly on fire and vehemently needing a strong bath.
I've also noted that I am slow to process information. I've had objects thrust in my hand that I don't want. Being autistic, if I touch something I have to take it. Lol, I have to be quite cautious at the grocery store and when buying clothes because once I handle something it's proven very difficult to return it to the shelf. It sounds silly admitting this fact, but looking back, this has been a pattern my entire life.
Possession is nine-tenths of the law. If it's in my hands, my cart, then it is in my custody and legally binding, as this age old, legal maxim states, in my autistic view.
  People invade my space when handing things. I'm quite fond of the personal, invisible barriers that separate and define me. An invasion of my space automatically sets off internal alarms and my defenses elicit a panic mode. The hair on the back of my neck becomes prickly and itchy. I start sweating profusely and, most importantly, I look for the nearest exit so I can run, if need be.
  I clearly remember the first time that I publicly freaked out being forced to touch something. My kind, caring, never-even-thought-to-hurt-a-fly kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Bailey, insisted that I put my index finger firmly on a string, so she could tie a bow. Little did I know that she would, basically, put a knot on my finger and hold me captive. The event made me lose all my marbles. She kept asking me to do it, and every time I whisked my finger away before the evil, cutting string captured and engulfed my finger. See, I didn't know what was coming. I hadn't witnessed this common way of tying a package. Once bitten, twice shy. I tried never again to put my hand into such an egregious position. My teacher, as well as myself and my family, had no idea I was autistic at the time so I can't fault them for thinking me a queer and rebellious child. Teacher eventually gave up trying to tie my finger, permanently and painfully to this box, and had someone else perform this innocuous task. I learned my lesson.
  The most painful, "here, hold this" experience happened just a few years back. I was visiting my friend at her horse farm and one of the mares was ailing. The vet came out and I offered to assist. Before I could even process what was taking place, the vet had taken an oversized pair of pliers and smartly grabbed the mares nose squeezing  tightly. She told me to hold said pliers. Omg, what a quandary I found myself in! I could see and sense the pain I was causing the poor animal whilst trying to rationalize that the vet said it was, "harmless and needed to hold the horse still"....the pliers felt like they were burning in my hands...I started trying to figure a way out of this torment. Finally, I said, "I can't do this", whereupon the vet looked ever so strangely and quite agitated at me, then beckoned for the only other person in the barn to hold the pliers.
I felt hotly, embarrassingly awful. I failed to help the ailing horse. The vet was taken aback and the places in which my hands had held the pliers burned and hurt something fierce. This was the last incident that anything was thrust into my hands.
From that point forward, I learned how to avoid any similar situation. I learned how to use a variety of words and phrases, in addition to employing body position techniques, taking a step back and  keeping my hands in my pockets, to prevent any such reoccurence.
  People may find my behaviors odd but these are simply self-protective devices to help prevent me from being sensory overloaded and freaking out.
I used to feel bad that I was so odd and had such eccentric mannerisms, now I know that it is simply who I am and what works best for me. I'm not embarrassed or ashamed to be autistic anymore.
And yes, I don't like being handed things.
    I'm okay with that 😊.
  

Upon being murdered in class

The Turning poetry

Teardrops

I hate giving and receiving gifts

Gift giving is overrated, highly stressful, embarrassing and something to be avoided whenever possible. It is a social custom that stymies and bothers me.
First off, the social protocols are not well defined. Who receives a gift, subject matter and price range is highly individualized. Determining what an individual perceives of as a "wanted gift" is akin to rolling the dice and hoping for the best.
I have given gifts that caused another to do the prefunctionary mumbled, "thank you", where upon said gift vanishes into obscurity in a closet, drawer, trash or local thrift store.
The amount of thought, I put into selecting a gift, has proven to be time consuming and pretty much useless. I can't count how many gifts live in this house that were never wanted or appreciated....so, I stopped giving gifts. Problem solved.
Then, but of course, I'm met with the childlike disappointment of others who feel...less important or valued because I failed to buy the right number and type of gifts indicated by some obscure mental tally in their head.
Gift giving is not a simple, easy thing.
Receiving gifts is mostly an on-the-spot exercise in how quickly I can pretend to be grateful whilst processing the meaning of the gift; it's intent and the prefunctionary, oh my gosh, did I give a gift of equal value? I feel my reactions are watched acutely, which is horrid anyway. I'm trying to figure out how the gift giver would like me to react....and then, depending on the item, after a few days processing, I figure out whether I like it, will ever use it, want to keep it or throw it out.
It's simply too much thinking and figuring out. It is big stress with huge uncertainty on both sides. My blood pressure rises just writing about it and I feel I need a stiff drink and a toke.
Autism and gift giving...I don't wanna