I met an autistic boy today in the waiting room, and reconfirmed that the difference between them (autistic boys) and us (autistic girls) is really more on a surface of things than on the inside. As in, we feel the same things, but we express them, and our reactions to them, completely differently.
(We were both very uncomfortable because the lights in the room were too bright, and it was interesting to watch how he expressed himself and made sure the lights of specific color were turned off.)
It’s such a strange difference.
It also kind of feels that it’s more stressful to be an autistic girl, because we are the one’s who mask, mimic, hide, keep things inside, care about others’ reactions… While autistic boys tend to be very rigid in their routines and needs, and show their issues on the outside.
Girls try to tiptoe and camouflage (while not always successfully) while boys drive over everyone in their tanks and often don’t even notice they are doing it.
Sometimes I wish I could also drive a tank. It probably would be a bit less self-destructive than how I usually end up dealing with situations that drive me mad (as in not dealing with them and trying to endure until I get too overwhelmed and too exhausted).
As if I didn’t have enough expensive audio devices already. At least I decided not to buy Solaris because they seemed a bit too big for my comfort to buy without testing them out first. And Polaris seemed like a better fit for my emotional needs than Andromeda. Fun fact is that out of the pretty big selection of earpieces they come with, I can only comfortably use the very tiniest ones. I don’t know how I feel about that. Did I always have such tiny ears or are they closing up on their own gradually because there’s too much bullshit to deal with in the world. Great sound and noise cancelling. (Without relying on weird technologies for noise cancelling.) Feels like having a concert hall suddenly appear in your brain and take up a lot of space. Which is a really good thing.
I’m also writing about earphones because there are too many emotional things I wish I could write about but can’t really.
Somewhere inside, even if I pretend like I don’t, I still believe all the negative things people told me about me, all the hurtful things they said about me, simply because no one ever told me anything else.
Even if logically I can understand that they mostly said those things not because of who I am, but because of who they are, there is just nothing to counter-balance it with. No one ever showed me different. It’s all I know.
You can’t counter all the negative things people do to you all by yourself. It’s like physics. If the force applied from outside is only ever applied in one direction, how can you ever gather enough energy on inside to move in the opposite direction?
That feeling when you have two different book stories developing parallelly in your head, but can’t write either. And that’s on good days. On bad days, there are five of them. Plus-minus.
If I were to pick a single most superimposing feeling that has followed me for the last couple of month, it would be ‘alienation’.
It’s not a foreign feeling to me on everyday basis either, but the last few months… When I look at the outside world I find it dominated by certain shared sentiments that are conveyed by many voices on the internet and television…and the I find myself absolutely unable to resonate or agree with them.
Day after day, I find myself feeling something very different compared to the loudest things I hear from outside, and I have to tell myself that it would be better for myself and everyone to retreat deeper into my own world and not get involved. Keep my opinions and feelings to myself. Do not react. Turn away and do my own thing. Stop thinking what does this inability to resonate with human society make me.
They were talking about all the bad habits of ‘sekkachi’ (impatient, restless, rash) people on the TV, of how they (we) constantly think of ‘what’s ahead’ and keep skipping over what is going right now… When you put it in words like that, that’s a nasty way to live.
But then, when you’re made that way it’s not like you can really change the way your brain works. These things are not just ‘personality’ you can ‘fix’, they are built in into your structure. (Even if you think it’s possible to fix it from within, it would require a lot of patient work on yourself, and thus it becomes a loop of impossible–to get the thing you need you need to already have the same thing in the first place.) And the only thing the ‘professors’ could recommend for fixing it is ‘to get fat’…because apparently big and fat animals are slower and more patient, and slow metabolism will help slow down your brain… (It’s better to not look at this sentence too closely.)
But all this reminds me very painfully of all my book projects where I have written the beginning and some ‘important plot parts’ and climaxes, but can’t find any patience to sit down and write everything that comes in between.
I keep going back to school in my dreams. Tonight, though, I also moved to Australia to become a singer. And go back to school.
I feel like I’m staying mostly quiet these days because I’m very much afraid to jinx too many things. You know, the way universe likes to play cruel jokes on you, the moment you express your hopes and feeling out loud.
I’m afraid that we will have to go back to the way things were before.
I’m afraid to make a wrong move and scare off the positive changes that’ve been going on.
After taking a nice quiet 40-minute walk home in icy wind without a scarf, also getting lost a couple of times, I feel I won’t even need corona to get myself a nice two-week vacation being sick at home.
When it comes to doctors and therapists… I can’t help to feel like I’m screaming into a void. I’m constantly trying to send an SOS. Tell people that something is wrong. That walking around with daily headaches, chronic exhaustion, thinking ‘I’m so fucking tired…’ from morning to evening every single day without exception, feeling like my consciousness is slipping away multiple times during any day, having to force myself to move because I keep freezing in space, getting lost in time, forgetting what day it is, and especially what day of the week it is really not right… And yet not a single medical professional I’ve met has taken it seriously enough to actually look for WHY, instead of trying out a collection of medications, and then shrugging me off when I tell them none of those work.
Then, I face a situation where, having a very stressful and anxiety-filled week, I can’t even rely on any tranquillisers because I’m too groggy and scatterbrained as I it is, and I’m too afraid to add any chemicals (or not so chemicals) in the mix that can make me feel even less ‘present’ in the reality.
Instead of tranquillisers, today I have to rely on food, therapeutic activity of copying books by hand, and first seasons of Great British Bake Off.
had an anxiety attack because I painted my nails.
Not even an anxiety inducing colour.
I don’t even guess anymore
Every time I see a person on tv being portrayed as having a hangover—nursing a headache, wearing sunglasses, grimacing because everything is too bright and too noisy, and moving too fast is rewarded with spikes of nausea—I get this disturbing feeling and just want to say… … … But that’s exactly how I feel every day (that I have to go outside)?… And without any drinking.
And summer ‘vacation’ is gone.
With regards to the to do list, I’ve managed only the web page design update. Mostly.
Also, got back to OmmWriter in an attempt to rewrite the Prologue to the main ‘Chronicles’ series…and realised that, since it’s about to go over 10,000 words, I probably shouldn’t really be calling it just a ‘prologue’ anymore.
(Also, found out that I own at least 6 pairs of shoes I have never worn more than once…likely bought in a wrong size because I wasn’t able to handle being in the store. Trying to get rid of them using Merucari app now. In order to prevent the repeat of this in the future, I do believe I will now mostly only buy shoes using Amazon Wardrobe option (tried once, worked great). Because, apparently, unless we are talking about boots, I can spend 2 hours in a store trying on various shoes just, trying find a pair that will fit and won’t hurt (everything hurts), and still only get something in a wrong size and a skull-crushing and stomach-turning migraine from just being in the store…)
The bad: Had to go to work in the middle of summer holidays, right on the next days after I got back from the airport in the evening.
The good: Managed to finish everything in 1 day, instead of 2.
The good: Didn’t have to turn on the lights in the office with no one else there and it was great. The best.
The bad: The people who passed by did believe it necessary to ask me if I just didn’t know how to turn them on.
I wonder if I’m getting worse with age, or is it just the constant exhaustion that makes my senses oversensitive, because I have no resources left for tolerance.
I don’t know which one is the worst one, sight or smell. The sound is the easiest to deal with, and touch is controllable once you find right clothing. Unfortunately, too much about smells and light is shared with other people, so they are very difficult to control, unless I stay locked in alone.
This time around I had to use such measures and carrying a lamp stand from the corner of the room into the bathroom, because there were 4 lights in there and I couldn’t turn them on/off separately. If there wasn’t a lamp I could bring in, I’d probably have to bathe in darkness or use my laptop as a source of light. I don’t understand why people think they need so much light for one tiny room. Or for any room…
I also had to waste money on buying 2 separate room aromas, Febrese, and bath bombs. For a hotel room I’m staying in for 3 nights. I don’t think I ever had to go as far before.
While I love to pretend like I couldn’t be happier about escaping the chaos, the buzz, the heat, and the air pressure, and all the ‘too much’ things about the overcrowded megalopolis city I live and work in, the first thing I notice when I reach one of the small towns I like to go hide in, is that I have very little ability left to deal with little things about living and being outside without the anonymity the state of being one speck of sand in the overflowing sandbox that is Tokyo provides.
I’m making this about more than it is.
I just can’t really handle the difference in amount of human attention you draw just by existing in a small town, and the way that difference feels on my skin when I say, enter a cafe.
And the fact that there are no easy chain coffee shops where I can pop in, quickly buy a few giant cups to go and haul them back to my room to read and write in peace nowhere in the vicinity is throwing me more than it should.
I’m too used to have a selection of various coffee shops on every corner… And now I need to gather courage before I can enter a new kind of place.
In fact, I wonder if I even can discover a place where I can get a coffee to go at all around here at all…
I sometimes manage to stay away from television, news, and real world in general so well that when I catch a glimpse of it by chance I suddenly find out that parts of country are being washed away with level 4 (out of 5) evacuation alerts, a number of very prominent and very famous tv figures got in organised crime-related trouble (which in this country means a big reconstruction on the tv scene because they will need to replace big tv shows that were in the same spots for many years and people who everyone was used to seeing all the time), and that some of my favourite (and very talented) musicians were arrested.
Feels like this world is never going to convince that there might be a merit in not living like an ostrich.