The Problem with Talking

At a friend's house for dinner, learning about friendship

I was actually invited over to a new friend's house so we could have dinner together. She cooked and asked me what I'd like and I brought some homemade biscuits.

I hadn't been to her house before. Well, about once or twice a year, I set foot in someone else's domicile. It's a rare occurrence. I was suitably nervous but we'd been texting for a month or two so I felt reasonably safe going to a strange house.

I cased the joint, did a driveby to see where it was, where to park and how long would it take me to drive there. Anti-anxiety medicine was a nice prerequisite, too.

I did really good. I listened and asked appropriate questions. I shared bits about my self but not too much. I hit a point when I started talking about where I grew up, and I could feel myself going too far down an unpleasant rabbit hole, so I pulled back, took a drink of water and changed the subject. I recognized that I was in danger of sharing too much unnecessary and unpleasant information. This was huge progress for me!

For those two hours,( and I realized that at that time I should inquire as to whether I should leave, and it was appropriate timing!) I was, by all appearances, a normal human. Whew.

While I get some major credit, an equal amount goes to my friend. I was comfortable speaking with her and being in her house. Hell, I actually ate food prepared by someone else and lived to tell the tale!!! Huge, huge, humongous!!

Because I felt safe, respected, listened to and seen. Heck, for two hours another human being actively engaged with me....tears...it's been awhile and a rarity...it's been years. Someone I get along with and share much common ground with. What a delight. What a treasure. How bizarre. How wonderfully pleasant.

I'm guessing these feelings are experienced by neurotypicals on a regular basis. Aspie Amy only encounters this .... with great irregularity between large expanses of time.

It was really cool. One of those warm experiences I'll carry with me the rest of my life.

I invited her over to my place, cause that's how it's done, and she agreed.

I'm learning about friendship. I am Aspie. I am Autistic. I am 60 years old.

January's End new painting

Day 6 of Ice Seige Corvallis 2024

It's the 6th day that I've been confined, housebound, due to icy road conditions. Schools canceled again. The outside traffic noises have yet to return though cars sounds have increased by 25%. That is my best indicator of current road conditions near me, counting cars and listening.

I continue to have enough supplies, food, drink and dog food. I must admit, though, it feels quite wretched and miserable being indoors for this consecutive amount of time. Screaming wouldn't help though it feels the appropriate response to the frustration. I'm a walker, a driver, a nature loving photographer, artist who welcomes and enjoys the out side.

Sad. Bummed. Disappointed. 

Each day I say, well, I'll probably be out and about tomorrow,  only that has not been true. Since Tuesday, it now being Thursday, I have thought the next day would bring sun, warmth, and clear roads. Each day I'm disappointed and party to gloom. Hopes dashed.

I sleep extra. Move furniture. Write. Paint. And think maybe tomorrow...

Apocalyptic

resembling the end of the world; momentous or catastrophic;

I take the word to mean, events outside of one's control that prohibit and restrict all movements outside of one's own home; the inability to venture outside

*

I did not know or comprehend the deep fear associated with apocalyptic events until I moved to the Willamette Valley of Oregon. Previously, the only reasons I could not leave my house of my own healthy accord were due to weather, snowstorms, lighting and such.

Here, the first widespread incident I encountered was simply called "fire season". The months of July and August, wherein no rainfall is normal, and grass and trees turn to tinder. Smoke fills the air turning the skies a sickly yellow, stagnant and thick. The ability to breathe becomes compromised. Masks, particle masks do help filter out some of the airborne hazards but going outdoors requires caution and preparation; it is no longer a given.

I've had to learn to check sources for air quality, daily and hourly, and how many supplies I need to have on hand for each day during fire season.

I had never experienced the air around me, all of it, everywhere, as something dangerous and hazardous, and not healthy to breathe before. Sour. I learned to read the color of the sky to determine healthy versus nonhealthy air. Every year in Oregon, we have fire season, like a normal season, it varies in severity. That was my first awakening.

The virus was another. Too complicated to talk about here much. People became carriers, spreaders and sickness and death threatened. One could not leave one's house under general order and common sense. A bigger topic yet generally agreed to be a major life experience. 

Today, I write as I endure day four of being confined due to ice. There is but an inch or two of snow covered neatly with a coating of slick ice. I cannot venture off my porch without grabbing hold of the railing. I haven't been able to walk the 50 feet to my frozen car to start it or warm it up. No trips to get groceries. It's apocalyptic in its scope. 

All traffic, well, most car travel has stopped. My first indication that something was amiss was when I awoke Saturday morning and the familiar sound of cars nearby was absent. The typical birds could not be heard either. The distant highway, which I could hear if I listened hard enough, it too was completely silent. All Stop. Something was wrong, and widespread.

The silence signaled a massive event in which all people, all everyday normalacy was stopped. People became trapped, once again, within their homes with the supplies they had on hand. There was no way out. To me, that is apocalyptic when one is confined against their will by external forces beyond their control.

It becomes a waiting game. Waiting for some beneficial external forces to appear, whether that be a strong wind or a sunny, warm sky.

 I have become aware and learned so much about my self and others through these far-reaching, majorly disruptive and captivating events.

Maybe tomorrow the Sun will shine and melt the ice and people can buy food, get medicine, go to school and back to work.

I take nothing for granted, especially the air I breathe and the ability to leave my house. I stay supplied. I watch the weather reports. And I'm always praying the Wind is in my favor.

Open Window Poetry

Cold Harsh Poem

Ice Storm, confined to home 4 days Poetry

I'm exhausted

As long as I can remember, I get tired out, physically exhausted rather easily. I am healthy, reasonably fit, eat remarkably healthy food yet I just wear out quick.

Today, I did arise from a fitful night of tossing and turning. Sleep eluded me until sometime after 3am, as per the usual.

I stopped by a thrift store. A woman my age kept bumping into me. She reminded me of me, in no hurry and alone. As I thought I should speak to her, she was on her way out the door. Maybe I'll try speaking to a stranger at some point.

The grocery store, I loaded too much into my carry basket. My arms were sore by the time I checked myself out.

At home, my goal had been to locate and use the vacuum. It never fails. I get the first floor complete and I start to get tired half way up the stairs. I made it to the top with great effort. The second floor is for another day. My mission completed.

Then I griped, groaned and whined the rest of the afternoon because I was sore and my internet went out again.

After a very nice half hour chat with a kind woman from the Philippines on live agent chat, my TV and internet are gone till the tech shows up at my house tomorrow morning.

I'm too tired to do anything but complain. Lol.

I did get some necessary tasks completed.

I think the planned dinner of homemade biscuits and chicken livers may have to wait until tomorrow.

It's okay. 

I forget I can't

I forget I can't do normal.

I joined a group of like-minded others online. Today, they posted pictures of the event they just edited hosted, an event I had tentatively planned to attend.

People were dancing, picking from a buffet, huddled in small groups and generally looking to be having a great time.

There is no way on God's green earth that I could have ever lasted more than ten, fifteen minutes tops, at such an event. The idea sounds like ice cream; I want some. But in reality, it's just chocolate syrup all over the floor; it doesn't hold; its not reality for me.

There is a wall within me. One side thinks, plans, and tries to act as others do. The other side of the wall, is the hermit who lives amongst solitude, closed windows and locked doors; it is my Autistic reality.

That damn wall prevents me from seeing and planing realistic events. One-on-one events in quiet locations, at a coffee shop or park.

The first side, the side of the walk that always points outwards, sees the outer world, wants friends, and is desperate to find interaction. The far side, the inner side that is aware of our capabilities, anxieties, and well, years of experiences, probably doesn't have the heart to tell all that wishful thinking exactly what it is, futile wishful thinking.

Thus we accept invites or plan get-togethers and disappoint ourself with alarming regularity.

In a way, a big part of me is not based in the reality of Aspergers. It isn't denial, more like we forget that we can't do some things. We forget the past attempts and failures as they are, these days, spread out months apart. We may sign up for a class but we never are in attendance. Maybe we want to quickly forget our failures. Who wouldn't want to overlook their own shortcomings?

We see things online that look fun but if we were to attend, it would be all anxiety and meltdown. 

Seeing clearly, who we are and what we truly are capable of, is an aspiration I have yet to achieve.

Party on

Why Bother? I don't know what to say

There are times when it is of no consequence whether I state my opinion or not. Why bother saying something when it will haven't impact upon the present or future?

Case in Point

A couple of coworkers at my therapist's office have given me distinct unpleasant, wary looks, as if I'm some monster and I better not say or do anything to harm therapist.

Granted, they have probably heard my loud, angry voice a few times, in the seven years that I have been going to the office. I'm not the only client who is an angry sexual abuse Survivor, I'm sure. Yeah, what do I have to be angry about? 

The looks they gave me made me feel, as I stated, like some type of unpredictable, violent potential predator.

I am, quite the contrary, a completely nonviolent person. 

The way those workers made me feel...that will not change. Discussing it wouldn't change a thing. So, why bother bringing it up?

Words can be so useless, as can opinions be, too.

Nothing can change that.

I'm at an impasse where I am questioning my voluntary verbal interactions with others.

I'm struggling. I don't want to say the wrong thing, a useless item, something that may hurt someone, or too much about my inner chaos.

I've canceled all my interactions for the week. I'm too uncertain and anxious and I'm not sure what I should say or not say.

Best to remain quiet and nonoffend.

I got angry then fell into deep sleep, Shutdown and Spock

Thursday I experienced a righteous angry outburst. That was followed by feeling absolutely terrified with a side dish of high embarrassment. 

I was rattled yet continued to function until evening. I crawled early into bed around 9pm and did not wake till next midday. My puppy required an outing and food, other than that, I heavily slumbers without any thought of food or drink until the next day.

Friday was a wash, all gone, soaked up in sleep and dreams.

Saturday, I was awake for a few more hours. I craved chicken broth which told me that I was quite dehydrated and needed fluids and salts. 

This is a typical Shutdown brought on by overwhelming emotions, in this case anger, fear and shame. Whatever chemicals the brain and limbic ? system produce in response to those emotions flooded my physiology. Those chemicals produced an uncontrollable, mandatory sleep much like the narcolepsy I have heard about.

It is completely involuntary and impossible to stop, hinder, slow down or make go away, this Shutdown Sleep. The only recourse is to sleep, remember to have fluids nearby, and wait for equilibrium to return. This takes anywhere from a few hours (rarely), to a few days (often), to a few weeks (mostly). Until that time, I am fully engaged in self-care which involves avoiding emotions or situations that can cause them. Because Shutdown confines me to bed or couch, and I live alone, I don't have to worry about others.

My main focus is on fluids. My appetite typically diminishes which isn't a big problem as a body at rest requires few calories. Plus, digesting food requires body energy so lack of appetite makes sense.

If I has an appointments, I would cancel them. I do not have the energy to walk more than a few feet, at times.

As I've been laying here these past two days, contemplating my worth, I have actually, finally found a couple of positives regarding Shutdowns. One, I spend less money going shopping or driving around (that whole not being able to get up, walk and move thingy). Two, I spend less on food. This is the first month that I have not gone to buy groceries the day of receiving my food assistance.  Two plusses. 

The sleep and fatigue are my body's attempts to recover safely, away from others and outside stimulus. At the same time, my physiology is "balancing out", removing the excess emotional chemicals that are causing problems. 

Man, I always wished to be Spock, no emotions. Now, I see one reason why.

Emotions Can Cause Shutdown especially high, excess emotions. That anger followed by terror followed by humiliation and shame was way, way, too much for this body to handle. That's a major Morpheus maker.

Now patiently I rest and wait. At some point, on some day, I will feel hungry and want to do dishes and cook. 

I will continue to work to avoid emotions in large measure. 

I'm thinking my best, most suited occupation is Hermit. It's not a bad word or bad career. It actually sounds pleasant, well-suited for me, and what I was born to do. My inherent nature is to avoid...for so very many reasons, many of which are physiological. 

it's the shame and embarrassment that hurts so deep and forces you to withdraw because you just can't explain one more time how much the bright lights hurt you or the loud noises or erratic behaviors.

I am an orderly regiment

Living in a world of chaos called The Norm

I am the outcast, the hidden one.

The constant embarrassment and shame of being different, of being confused and unclear of what is being said and taking place around me, forces me to isolate in the safety, security, and normality of my own home.

Only there am I okay, understood and not a huge freak that needs constant consistent accommodations.

Autism Sucks

I'm strange

I know I have to continually explain myself if I want neurotypicals to understand my bizarre existence.

I live aline.

I rarely go out.

Rarer still, I have no friends or family so to engage in a conversation of more than a couple minutes, happens to me about once a week, and it is usually with a cashier or clerk.

Conversations. Yeah. Nope. I don't do those much.

a small poem

I like taking pictures. sometimes I hear words when I look at them

I don't know how to title this

How I know that I am Autistic