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

Thursday, November 8, 2018

Safe is a pretty word

Safe is a pretty word; I've often admired it from afar. In all honest, I have no idea what it feels like. I'm longing to know it intimately; its breadth and depth. It's a feeling I've only dreamed of.
Yeah, therapy was one large emotionally cathartic event today.
To minimize, the first ten years of my life was one continuous danger zone. My psych split and fractured due to lack of any love, physical and emotional hunger and ongoing, unpredictable abuses. I've never really been a whole, singular being. Never.
I live a reactionary life whereby I continually react to the people and circumstances around me. This thing called "free will" is another pretty term that I have yet to experience. Mostly, I'm avoiding pain, stress, discomfort, unpredictability events and laying low. Like I'm in a batting cage, naked and without a bat and I move, twist, duck and jump to escape the onslaught on hurling projectiles.
I'm armor. I'm embedded behind walls and bunkers fighting my forever war.
PTSD makes me feel like everyone is a potential enemy. Autism makes me feel similar including environmental factors.
It's a constant onslaught. I spend considerable energy avoiding pain.
I have these inner rooms filled with boxes of memories, feelings and thoughts I was never allowed to share. I spend tons of energy just keeping my shit together so it doesn't all spill out at once, or in the wrong place or in front of the wrong person.
This is my war, Amy's war, aka, welcome to my life. I am fathoms from normal.
I'm often jealous and feel bad that others were and are loved. I can see it on their faces and it's in the spring of their walk. Can you imagine the first ten years of your life engrossed in pain and lacking any love?
It sucks. It hurts.
Thos first years have set the pattern I live and have lived, a reactionary, dark and gloomy life.
That I made it this far with being given such sparse external resources is nothing short of remarkable.
I'm different, ok. I'm just really, really different.

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