Hanging onto words

Glad you made it in, my therapist said.

That's a drawing of her, er the back of her head anyway. Rudimentary but accurately conveys.

I nailed each letter to my inner wall with hammer and four inch nails.

The words, impersonal. After not having an appointment for three weeks, I had hoped for something more, something personal or maybe warm. She was acknowledging my effort but nothing more

Had she said,

I'm glad you're here or It's nice to see you, those would have been warm words. Those were words I felt but could not speak. That happens, the not being able to speak, the mute, the silence, the six inch invisible wall that prohibits me from communicating when excess time has passed between our meetings.

The familiarity of that open stream that passes from one to the other shuts down, gets diverted, or rather is dammed. With no where to flow, no regularity, the tap turns off. No need to flow watery words when no one can hear them. Turn off the hose, those flowers are already damp, dead, or have pulled up their roots like skirts and scurried away. Those no receptacle. So turn off the tap and shut the door. Don't just shut the door, lock it, turn the heavy wheel to seal it shut from the inside. The great effort of verbiage need not be used, wasted, or expended.

I listened to them, the outers, the neurotypicals as I lay in my hospital bed wavering with my latest mystery pain. They talk as if it is effortless, without expenditure, with ease. Their words have no weight, are light as air and careless like dust sprinkled every where.

How strange and queer those multitudes of creatures are. There words flow, spill and cascade as easily as my tears. Yet, they think little of them, the words strung together like loose daisy chains for all to see like flimsy crowns upon their heads.

They don't seem to pay any price for them. A dime for a hundred dozen while I pay a penny per letter.

Glad you made it in.

I take the words I hear, especially the ones directed at me, and I nail them to my wall. They stay there for reminder, for further analysis. They have great weight.

I won't take them down. Just next time the therapist says words, the new ones will be nailed underneath and gain prominent position.

Be aware of what you say. Autistics are listening and remembering and nailing your words to walls.

Nothing lasts forever

I sound stupid, but only when I talk

 On the inside I am this uber smart, intellectual Aspie who occupies a small, quiet corner of the world minding my own business and leaving others to tend to theirs. But...

When I open my mouth to say how I feel or what I think or what is on my mind, I sound uber stupid, like a flake from the lake that leaves in the deep woods and keeps feral rabbits as pets.

I Can Hear My Own Stupid!!! And its maniacal and immense. I can hear how my ideas and my thoughts deviate from the majority NeuroTypicals. I can hear that my words are spewed in rapid fire, staccato like packets of whistling rockets spiraling in all directions.

No one can understand me.

I like being smart. I keep my mouth shut so I can retain that imaginary feeling.

The Lighted Room

There's a room I can see, day and night and night and day; the light is forever on. The close shade drawn. The far shade half open. Sometimes I see a cat. Mostly I see nothing at all but a light forever on in an empty lonely room.

Is the switch hidden? Have the residents forgotten that the room exists? How many days and nights, weeks and weeks, has the light been on for no one but an errant cat?

I once witnessed the residents bring home a new puppy. The puppy never again was let outdoors for days and days, weeks and months. Maybe the puppy lives in the room forever lit.

Forgetful. Noncaring. Nonplussed. 

Perplexed, I continue to witness, the room with the light forever forgotten and on.

My Biggest Regret

Aspergers syndrome definition

A developmental disorder characterized by social and emotional deficiencies [ah, but that's the key word isn't it] but accompanied by normal or above-average verbal skills and cognitive ability.

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Verbal skills- the extent to which a person can approach words, sentences, written text verbs, as well as the extent to which they can comprehend meanings, produce synonyms, antonyms, know the meaning and use of words...

A second definition of verbal skills:

Written communication 

Oral communication 

Nonverbal and visual communication 

Active listening

Contextual communication 

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Ah, no. I do not possess normal or above-average verbal skills.

I use words well and have an above average vocabulary but my comprehension and communication of words is subpar.

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Cognitive ability definition [because I wasn't sure what this meant]- general mental capability involving reasoning, problem solving, planning, abstract thinking, complex idea comprehension and learning from experience. 

My cognitive ability is poor.

Definitions

Dictionaries 

Used to be, far ago, that I thought if I could read and memorize words that maybe I wouldn't be so confused and understand the chaos around me.

Plus, I love Dictionaries and the clarity they offer.

Parties

Watching another unfortunate show on tv in which people are engaged in a dinner party. I hit the mute button and walk away. This has zero relevance in my life, now and forever.

I will never understand the appeal of people congregating, telling stories and engaging in the sharing of food and drink. Looks like Hell and punishment to me.

I've given up watching my once beloved NFL football. I witnessed a gruesome head injury and I feel scarred. I have no need to be witness to any more pain. My own suffices.

Maybe there is no longer a need for televised entertainment and time passing with loud box on. 

Can't seem to find any value in watching other lives that stymie, perplex and confuse me. Those are neurotypical lives with which I share no commonality. 

I'm not lost. I'm set apart. I'm different. I cannot relate and I have no interesting in trying to conform into something I am not. It is not my nature.

I run free.

To be who I am, I need to be alone, unencumbered and unridiculed.

These people around me, on tv, in the movies. They offer me nothing but confusion and disinterest.