“Here’s to those who wish us well, and those who don’t can go to hell.”

All who live carry luggage on their journey

I realize I don’t explicitly discuss autism on this blog very often.  It’s because I’m autistic; it’s an intrinsic part of my perception and life, as is PTSD, and my ongoing battle against depression.  On my journey to becoming my best self, I encounter many allies who share their experiences and understand every aspect of my struggles.  Some are also autistic, but many carry luggage with different labels.

I’ve learned to apply caution when inviting others into my world.  It’s a painful, repetitive lesson.  I’m aware of other autistic people who choose to be hateful while gleefully invalidating those who don’t have a formal diagnosis.  (As if the medical community has even managed to produce definitive criteria that can pass a casual bullshit test.)  I’ve encountered people with mental or physical illnesses who decide to be mean and spiteful to others for who and what they are; as if it’s something anyone can control.  Their pain hasn’t yet taught them of its presence in the lives of all who live.

In hindsight, I’m always embarrassed by my naivetè.  I admit I once assumed marginalized people automatically possessed a more profound understanding and compassion for those who also suffer.  It’s brought me a great deal of pain as I recognize my mistake.  Going forward, I hope to be wiser.  It hurts so much to know there are people on this planet with whom I must guard my heart.Humans are diverse

I still feel like a new member of the autism community, years after discovering the online fellowship:  especially now that I’ve seen the pettiness and hatred spewed between members.  The irony is particularly disturbing;  autistic people who shun other autistics for being different than themselves in their challenges and experiences.  😲 🙄

I remember when I was thrilled to learn about neurodiversity and finally recognize my tribe.  I’m sad to realize it’s not as inclusive as I once thought. I remember how lonely I was, and I didn’t expect alienation from fellow aliens.  Nevertheless, I’m incredibly grateful for those who do accept and support me.  I cherish the love and fellowship of others also journeying on the path to their best selves.  It matters not to me what baggage or labels others carry, so long as they walk with kindness, compassion, and sincerity.

I’ve learned it’s easy to embrace diversity among humans.  I celebrate it.  It enriches my life, stretches my mind, and strengthens my spirit.  The smallest bit of effort ensures I can relate to anyone I choose.  No matter how we’re different, we’re all human.  We’re all incredible individuals who decide what we will become through our choices.  Thanks to those who help me grow. 💜  listen up

Thirty-three days until the Fleetwood Mac concert! (Performs the pre-choreographed dance routine.) 🙃✌🏽

Delayed P.S.  I’m sorry I said money is the only god on this planet.  It’s been eating at me ever since, but I only just figured out it’s also why I haven’t been able to sleep.  I’m sorry.  💜

“It’s pretty hot under these lights, huh, Seinfeld?”

Her Majesty, Amelia Bedelia

I had to pull out my weighted blanket, last night.  It didn’t help immediately, as in the past.  I was burning like Daenerys Stormborn when I first attempted sleep.  Whenever I feel overheated or short-winded, my body wants to move as if the activity will validate my discomfort.  I played Amelia Bedelia’s favorite game of hiding and stalking.  I suspect it amuses me as much as it does her.

I discovered she has rules for the game.  They’re simple:  The cat always wins.  I lay in wait for what seemed like minutes, trying not to giggle.  Then I pounced and startled the shit out of poor Amelia Bedelia.  She let loose a long, loud meow of disdain after landing from her gravity-defying leap of panic.  Then she smacked me in the face with her little paw.  (I imagine she was informing me I broke the rules, and she didn’t want to play with me anymore.)

I melted into a puddle of boneless belly-laughter while feeling mildly guilty for upsetting my sweet baby girl.  Then I silently scolded myself while replaying the hilarity of her reaction in my mind, (giggling all over again.)  Finally, I stifled my laughter and attended Her Majesty in her soundproof Fortress of Solitude.  She glared at me, daring me to reach in and try to pet her.  So I knelt before her and softly sang to Her Grace until she forgave me.

I created two new fairy lights recently.  I’m pleased it didn’t involve bleeding, for once, but the glue gun managed to exact an equally painful toll as quilting.  I used cardboard from a shipping box on the first version and a thin sheet of wood, the second, along with transparent film canisters as diffusers.  It produces a lovely, moving rainbow glow and reflects beautifully on the chrome stand of my drum kit.  It’s no wonder I can’t help smiling while I play.  (My band has accepted this after repeatedly suggesting it makes me look like a doof.)  Fairy light for drumkit

I placed the other above my Mac workstation.  It amazes me how fairy lights set the tone of a room.  I copied Ray Bradbury by surrounding myself with things I love when I pursue creative projects.  His desk was far more cluttered than I prefer, but my addiction to synthesizers promises I’ll catch up before long.  (My intention of only collecting software synthesizers didn’t survive my first catalog from Sweetwater Music.)

Teenage Engineering just released their latest portable synth, shattering my resolve.  I haven’t ordered it yet, but I know it’s only a matter of time.  There are always people with more money than patience and a willingness to master new tools.  I call it the Dork Discount.  It’s surprisingly reliable where pretty synthesizers are concerned.  Yay.  My former days of refusing to RTFM are history where synthesizers are concerned.  Instead, I read everything I can find about them.  Then I head over to YouTube to watch tutorials.  I’m such a noob.  😂

Fairy light 2

I stepped up the pace in my Game of Thrones viewing.  The season 6 finale was so fabulous I’ve watched it three times, so far.  The music score for the episode is my favorite part.  It’s just so perfect it made me tear up.  I haven’t begun season 7 yet;  I need to allow for some processing time.  So much happened, none of which I predicted from reading the novels.  Lady Mormont is my new favorite character.  No spoilers.  🙃  I can’t wait to watch it again.  I’m off to beat my drums with sticks.  💜

“I’ve driven women to lesbianism before, but never to a mental institution.”

kittens wrapped in a blanket

I’ve draped myself in the comforting blanket of music, of late.  It’s gently healing the many wounds I’ve acquired on my journey so far.  In this pleasant space, I’m building a better survival strategy for when The New and Improved Depression Monster (TNAIDM) ambushes me in the future.  I’ve acknowledged how it affects me; out damn pride.  First to go is my wit.  I cannot rely on my keen mind when stapled to the floor.

woman listening to music

I don’t know how TNAIDM steals my intellect and rationality, but the evidence is overwhelming.  I must plan accordingly.  My inner gamer sees this as a challenge.  There are no walk-through videos to study on YouTube.  No strategy guides on message boards.  Only me, my presently uncompromised wit, and my shelter of music.  Challenge accepted.  Victory awaits.

Today, this blanket consists solely of music by Sheryl Crow.  As I listen and sing along, the lyrics reach me.  My strength and resolve rebuild.  My focus broadens, and my sorrows fade.  I remember who I am and embrace the biggest picture I’m able to perceive.  I’m stardust floating through space.  Soon, my minute of life will end, and what remains will drift on with the expansion of the universe.

All my pain is insignificant from this perspective.  I can breathe.  I can even laugh over the concerns that leveled me yesterday.  They fail to weigh me down when I zoom out and allow myself to float.  Snapshot.  Save.  Remember.  💜

 

“You think sickness like that grows on trees?”

redwood trees

I recently was alerted to a service that enables one to become a tree.  I’m as pleased by this as I am about the upcoming Fleetwood Mac concert. 😃🙃 Here is their website.  I ordered the redwood version.  I’ve never seen one, aside from photos and video.  I think they’re fabulous.  I hold land where it will hopefully thrive.  Yay.  I’m off to watch more Game of Thrones.

redwood forest

“Bozo the Clown. That’s who Bozo is.”

 

It’s dreary and raining, today.  Thank goodness for the Gettin’ Grown podcast with Jade and Keia.  While I listened, I played around with my first stop-motion video.  The sound is courtesy of a protest in NYC.  It was fun and surprisingly easy to create.  (The mini-figure of 45 is from minifigures.com.)  I recently finished reading a memoir titled, Educated, by Tara Whelan.  It’s about a woman who grew up in Idaho.

It details events she endured as a child of a mentally ill prepper.  It’s disturbing, engrossing, and brilliantly relayed.  I learned a lot about a lifestyle utterly foreign to me.  It’s rich with insight into human behavior and fear.  It gave me a glimpse into 45’s support base, as well.  I’m less baffled by their betrayal after reading it.  They don’t know 45 looks down on them like trash, yet.  Sad!

Spoiler alert. 

I survived the horrifically graphic episode of Game of Thrones, titled, The Mountain and the Viper.  Barely.  I had to fight off an urge to hurl, and I shook for a while afterward.  I witnessed my best friends corpse after her husband bashed her head in with a hammer when I was in my late teens.  It’s weird how the TV show evoked such a powerful reaction when the real event only caused me to withdraw emotionally while still managing to protect her little sister and infant son from seeing it.

There be giants

The Watchers on the Wall, at the end of season 4, was spectacular.  I’m going to watch it again on a bigger screen.  Probably several times.  I hope HBO won every possible award for it.  Blockbuster movie level CGI on a TV show blows my mind.  I also have to admit, watching Prince Oberyn fight was thrilling.  At least the parts before he lost his mind figuratively and literally.  (He died of arrogance and rage.)

The Children of the Forest looked just as I imagined while reading.  The three-eyed crow was visually disappointing, though.  I expected him to be more tree-like and less wizard-like.  I laughed when they zoomed in on mini Gandalf the Grey.  But the tiny woman throwing fireballs at the living dead popping out of the ground was fabulous, so I can’t complain.  I probably jumped a few feet when one grabbed Jojen Reed by the ankle.  He was a favorite, so I’m sad he’s gone.

Peter Dinklage

Watching the Hound get his ass kicked by Brienne of Tarth was satisfying.  She’s awesome.  I like Podrick Payne, too.  And Arya, of course.  She’s my favorite main character.  I’m so curious about what comes next.  I haven’t watched seasons 5-7 yet, and much of the content varies from the novels.  I’m gradually combining the storylines as I go.  The only spoilers I’ve encountered betrayed the fact all the Lannister kids survive to begin season 8.  (Yay, Tyrion.)  I have a crush on Peter Dinklage (assuming he shares Tyrion’s wit.)  🤫  I’m off to watch another episode.