Why should I hire you to be my latex salesman?

It’s nice today, but windy.  I slept really hard for 2 nights in a row now.  Yay.  I don’t feel as floaty.  I used my weighted blanket on top of a quilt.  The glass beads inside make my weighted blanket stay cool, which is awesome in summer.  I’m so hot blooded, so it’s good to have an alternative to central air at night.  If I hated the planet, I’d set my thermostat at 67 all summer, and 65 all winter.  But I love the planet, so I set it at 70 all summer, and 63 all winter.  But I am big on windows being open as much as possible.  Even when it’s -20 F outside, I will crack a window for a few minutes just to get the fresh air exchange.

Friday night, I didn’t dream or even roll over during my sleep.  Last night, I remember having a panic dream where I made a serious coding error in a situation with dire consequences.  I have that dream scenario about as much as the one where my cat is in peril, and I can’t save her.  Fortunately, they’re easy to break free from.  I went back to sleep fairly quickly afterward.  I still feel a little tired, but much better overall.  Insomnia is expensive in ways I haven’t even pinpointed yet.  I hate to admit this, but the more tired I become, the more visible my Autism becomes, and I don’t like that.  I want to say I have absolutely no shame about being Autistic.  But obviously I can’t, because I still engage in passing as neurotypical in certain situations.  So I guess it’s more like, I’m striving to let go of any semblance of shame surrounding my Autism.

I love black and white, but my life is mostly grey.  I agree that forcing myself to hide my Autistic traits from others is less than ideal.  Passing as neurotypical takes a huge toll on my energy levels, and it can take weeks to recover.  Stimming in public can result in encounters with assholes.  Neither option is ideal for every situation.  I fall back on my Mom’s advice in this regard.  I take a time-out, and put the world on mute for a while to regroup.  My Mom figured out how to help me cope as a kid.  She didn’t know my diagnosis, but she wasn’t exactly new at parenting when I came along.  Between that, and her experience with the foster babies, she was prepared to help me navigate this world.  Some of her methods unsettle some of my Autistic friends when we talk about it.  They see it as her pushing me to pass as neurotypical.

To me, it was my Mom parenting me specifically.  Pushing me to expand my world was necessary for me.  It’s not a one-size-fits-all approach.  I suspect I was content in my own little world, and would have been fine to remain there.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t an option.  I grew up in a big house with lots of siblings and only 2 parents.  I needed to expand my world in order to get my needs met, so my Mom gently pushed me.  Each time, I became upset and miserable for a bit, then adjusted.  Then I would recognize my Mom’s wisdom in pushing me.  I do recall feeling singled out when I was 10ish.  Why does Mom only push me, but Heather and Steve can do what they want?  Typing that made me giggle.  I sent my Mom a typed note asking her this question, and she saved it.  I still have it.  And a few other notes I sent during my childhood.  The first one I hand wrote, and it said, “I hayte you, I hayte you, I hayte you.”  When I first found that note in my Mom’s stuff after she died, it upset me.  But now, it amuses me.  My Mom knew I loved her.

I’ve never been sophisticated.  Not even close.  My Mom knew me well, and could often tell what I was thinking, much to my frustration.  I remember being so angry that she could read me like a book when I was a teenager.  It wasn’t the same as Heather speaking for me as a child.  It was like my Mom could read my mind.  It felt like she knew me better than I knew myself, which is what angered me.  It felt incredibly audacious of her to me.  “How dare you tell me what I’m thinking!” I can laugh about it now.  My brother, Gar, has always been into photography and videography.  There’s a lot of footage of me from the time I arrived at 3 days old, till I was 15.  I saw myself as a 5-year-old walk up to my Mom, ask her a question, then turn around and high-step march to my room.  It’s hilarious to me, but it doesn’t register that it’s me.  Spaz4Life should be my nickname.  We got it all transferred to DVD’s a while ago, but most of it is with the Dr. who diagnosed my Autism.  She uses them for training or a study or something.

I’ll be going to the office to work tomorrow instead of working from home.  I hope it goes well.  Then I’ll get groceries on my way home.  I’ll work on visualizing it going well later.  The book I’m reading now is intriguing.  Menagerie by Rachel Vincent.  It reminds me of that HBO show Carnivalè in that so far it’s in a similar setting, but in the 1980’s.  I bailed on the series before finishing because it was too tense, but I liked it.  Very well cast show.  This book is dark in different ways so far.  The lore isn’t original, but that hasn’t detracted in the least.  I like the writing style, too.  I got hooked quickly.  That’s always nice.  I’m off to the gym.