I’m so overwhelmed. Yeah, I saw this coming, too. Sleep deprivation is expensive. Typically, I feel like I’m a few seconds behind the world. I’m used to The Pause. Presently, my mind is racing. I have too many things I want to process at the same time. I’m demanding my brain keep up, but it’s like trying to make the rain stop by shouting at it. Nevertheless, I’m still shouting. I know it’s futile, but any action seems better than stillness.
I’m struggling to understand Americans who hate me so much, they’d rather destroy America than tolerate my existence. It’s not going well. I have a glitch I was apparently born with. It scares me, sometimes. I’ve never in my life managed to hold a grudge for more than a few days. When I hate someone, it takes over my mind and becomes all I can think about. I can’t read, listen to music, watch TV, or socialize, and hate someone at the same time. Hating is essentially cutting myself off from all else. It’s exhausting, and my hate-stamina is pathetic. I always end up rejecting it, and as I’ve matured (shut-up 😂), I often skip the process and let it go straight away.
My sister, Heather, seemed the opposite in this respect. I remember marveling at her ability to remain furious at someone, seemingly permanently. I assume it’s a survival mechanism to some degree, but mine’s broken. It makes me feel vulnerable. It used to make me question my intelligence, but I decided it’s irrelevant. I know a lot of people are feeling the tremor in The Force resulting from Americans hating Americans. I suspect many of my fellow neurodiverse people are struggling right now. One of the lovely perks of membership is often a high sensitivity to strong emotions of others. A tremor in The Force is nearly literal, (depending on your level of Star Wars/life integration.)
I’m focusing my energy on removing my contribution to the tremor. You’re welcome. I’m having a Healing Day to get back in sync. I went for a long run early this morning. I listened to Chiquitita by ABBA, Whenever I Call You Friend by Kenny Loggins ft. Stevie Nicks, and Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks on repeat. I mostly love repetition, but when people ask me the same question more than once, I get stuck. (I wish more people would get behind my idea of a universal visual signal and/or sound whenever sarcasm is used.) Remember the cartoons with crappy resolution and expressive soundtracks? The music was an essential part of comprehending the humor. At least for me.
Oops, there I go again, wishing. I just rolled my eyes at myself. Part of me believes others should be considerate enough to let me in on the joke. The eye-rolling part thinks it’s ridiculous to even desire the world where others put forth some effort to enable me (and many others) to participate. Guess which part of me I like better? I just cracked myself up. Also, if you haven’t spent some time experiencing Stevie Nicks, stop being mean to yourself and get to it soon. I’m off to play the violin to some cows while the humidity is tolerable.