The Battle of the Burnout saga continues

I hate fighting battles that I cannot win, or slow down or subdue even a little. Shutdown Burnouts are like that, formidable enemies which leave me weaponless and run my life.

I hate that too, not having any control over my life and what I choose to do. Shutdown says "you are down for the count; you're only option is rest; stay in bed." And I have no say in the matter.

Part of me thinks Shutdown is like a failsafe, a kill switch, a self-preservation mechanism that forces me to retreat from external stimuli kindof like how your hand feels the heat of an open flame before actually touching it.

Shutdown is an early warning system screaming in muted colors of red and blue, stop, stop, stop, you are doing too much and have hit overload.

It bothers me that I cannot shorten it, mute it, end its mad, unforeseen end. I do not like being prisoner to it.

One difficult challenge is making peace and trying to accept this bothersome thing called Exhaustion, Burnout or Shutdown. Take your pick. They all mean the same thing. Knockout. Down for the count. Unable to physically get up and out of bed. Fatigue beyond belief. Tiredness without sane reason.

It's Autism, baby. Yeah, one of the parts, one if the main players, actually, that few people know about and fewer still understand.

Sigh.

Autistic Burnout, too tired to move

I continue imprisoned by an Autistic Burnout Shutdown, with extreme exhaustion and fatigue.

It's like, my Burnout is a 20 pound brick. If I try to remove it via acupuncture, massage, reiki, supplements, it gets heavier, more solid and stubborn and states even more firmly "I am a brick, unmoving, unyielding. You must rest."

It boggles me that a physiological condition cannot be treated or helped or speeded up or removed.

Rest is the only answer.

It isn't that I don't want to go for a nice leisurely stroll at the park, it's that I physically cannot move that much or that far.

Any physical activity increase the weight and length and breadth of the Shutdown.

The only remedy, really, is prevention, closely monitoring all physical activities. It's like I have to "check in" with my body each morning to try and determine how many steps I will be able to take that day. What's in my fuel tank? How much energy is available to me. Then I have to prioritize the chores and activities.

The biggest, easiest, well it's actually the only indicator I can read, is do my feet hurt? And how far up my lower leg does it hurt? That pain is what tells me whether I should stay in bed or go for a walk. I have no other clear physical clue.

I cannot plan outings or activities, chores or hobbies to engage in each day. I merely have a "suggestion" list prioritized with the things I would like to do. There is no given, no surety.

I live each day on a whim, wondering how far my body can take me. I cannot make set plans. I do the best I can with what I've got.

I'm not lazy, depressed, physically ill or unmotivated.

I am Autistic.

Sometimes my body gets overwhelmed and shuts down.

Right now, I'm a 150 lb brick.

A Documentary about Adults with Aspergers Autism; Too Sane For This World

I watched this movie the other night. I have oppossing viewpoints. 

At first glance, I was thrilled to see a show full of Adult Autistics. They did a good job of representing the whole range of the Spectrum from the "normal" appearing Aspies to the mildly verbal ones. I shared a little commonality with this one and that one, and i thoroughly could relate to the entire film. That is anomalous. 

Usually, I turn on a tv or watch a movie and it is all neurotypical. Here, here was something completely different, a show about others like me. 

Then, about halfway through, tears. I found myself crying. The individuals were describing how they only discovered they were Autistic when a spouse or partner pointed out their odd behaviors.

Aspies cannot self-see that they are Aspies; that they are quite different in a majority of subtle ways. But I saw it. I saw the deficiency. I saw the slow on the uptake, confused lostness, and naivete. I saw the challenges of holding a job, being in a relationship, going to school, and getting through an ordinary day.

It's like people run a marathon, uphill, carrying motorized scooters and not realizing there was an easier way. Not seeing their own struggle. Mistaking it for normal.

I looked it the rare uncovered mirror and I was saddened to my core. If I ever ventured out of my isolated existence, that is how I might appear to others, stupid, slow, with a glaze of perpetual confusion plastered on my face.

I continue to walk around, in the dark, holding a burned out candle and having no clue how to ask for a match.

Grief. I felt grief.

The movie is well done in presenting a wide variety of Autistics in their own words. My feelings are a mixed bag of trash and treasure.

Talking and Public Speaking

I was watching this lecture series on tv. It was unusual in that it was a full 50 minutes of one person speaking the entire time without a break.

Carefully I studied each lecture to see if I could detect breaks wherein the camera stopped, the speaker took a break, and then the filming resumed.

A few of the lectures, I could detect zero breaks which brings me to my query:

Can a person speak, non-stop, for 50 minutes and not be completely and utterly exhausted?

Even at the end of the talk, the speaker did not appear tired. Their speeches did not start to slow down or trail off near the end.

My question:

How????

I am stymied by this. Especially given that, say, a college professor may give more than one lecture in a day. I think about grade and high school teachers who spend the majority of their working day talking, day after day.

Clearly, this is an accomplishable feat, for many people.

Aspie me has difficulty managing a ten-minute conversation. The idea of speaking aloud for an hour perplexes, intruiges, and enrages me.

Why them and not me?

The normal, everyday sundries of verbalizations are like stars dotting the nighttime sky. They exist. They are real but just completely out of my reach. A mystery, yet I marvel at them.

Speaking and Autism are uneasy friends in the world of all things on the spectrum.

This is yet another shining example where the everyday and mundane of the neurotypical, is nothing short of a small miracle fraught with extreme effort for the Autistic.

Incest Happens, Surviving

Where I am, a poem by me

The window is open

I hear a distant river rushing

Outside

The brown-green narrow pathway

Meets tall and short, slender grey woods

Over the silent, soon-to-be stream, now Puddle

Up the hill to flowery, grassy knoll

Abrupt against scrabble, pebbled sidewalk

Curving gently downward, concrete yellow curb

Sharp against angry, blackened, vast asphalt

Stretching curiously into cement topped by beige rectangles stacked two by two

Surrounded by soft meadow housing orchard renegades

Contrasting mightily against the rich green forest wall

Sequestered by spit split rocky boundaries 

Asphalt strip spotted yellow, sandwiched white

Up on which flows the erratically noisy river

Forms of plastic-metal conglomerates careening 

Miles away

Yet visible to my ears

I opened my window

And heard where I am

In space and place

Aspergers, Small Talk and How are You?

Do you think it might be possible, that the reason so many Aspies cringe and dislike the phrase "How are you?" is not necessarily because we do not like small talk but rather we have no idea how to answer because we cannot quantify what it is that we Are feeling?

I continue to hypothesis that one of the greatest challenges of being Aspergian is the inability to find words to express how we feel and think.

Then, in addition, I do have to add that "How are you?" is an open-ended, abstract question in which the Autistic cannot directly ascertain exactly what it is the inquirer is asking about.

Are you asking about my health? How I'm physically feeling today? As opposed to yesterday? Or is it my mental health and emotional wellbeing?

Are you asking because you want an answer? Or is this a platitude like "Hello" or "Have a good day"?

One many occasions it is anticipated that I actually do not answer that specific question, instead I am supposed to "parrot it back" simply repeat the question back to the asker, no response needed on my part. The number of times that this has happened are great.

How are you, the question, it stymies me because I can rarely put words to how I am.