“No, it always has to be explained to me, and then I have to have someone explain the explanation.”

Off Switch

I accomplished a great deal yesterday. Today, I’ve barely managed to pull off the mandatory tasks. I squeaked by with incredible effort. I can’t believe it’s early evening. I feel it should be around 2 PM at the latest. So much for my plan to turn in early tonight.

My off switch has never worked properly. Once I’m engaged in a task, it’s difficult to stop. I’d like to believe I have a bit of control over it, despite evidence to the contrary. I haven’t definitively determined what triggers it to become worse. Not even close. I have two hypotheses; both discouraging. Sigh.

I love being completely absorbed in what I’m doing. It’s like stepping out of time, letting go of everything, including my body, and focusing only on what I’m doing. Leaving that state makes me want to weep. But I’ve accepted I must, often. Not doing so often enough is the equivalent of living under a rock.

I’ve learned it’s not the way I want to exist, much as I love it. It murders my ability to socialize, for starters. (I’m always going to regret not finding out about Stevie Nicks sooner.) There are excellent reasons to check in with the rest of the world on a regular basis, and I’m absolutely interested.

The thing is, acknowledging the world outside my head is borderline sadistic. There’s a shitload of pain out here, and I’m unshielded. I don’t have the experience in coping necessary to navigate without rivers of tears; so I tend to retreat when I sense I’m failing and have no clue what I’m doing wrong. (I despise that feeling.)

My decision to attend a Fleetwood Mac or Stevie Nicks concert in the future is turning out to be an effective retreat deterrent. (At least when it’s voluntary.) I need to stay connected, so I’ll know when they go on tour. I already had the terrible, awful nightmare where I discover I missed out because I was too distracted to get tickets. I woke up and immediately began bawling like it really happened. I’m such a doof. Heh. But it was horrible!

I’m going to work out a new time management strategy. I keep adding new things, but there are still only 24 hours in a day. My bad. This is my reward for bragging about my math skills, eh? The universe is hilarious (sometimes.) I’m off to read.

“It was more like a full-bodied dry heave set to music.”

For the music

I’m sad about the passing of author, Ursula LeGuin, yesterday.  Today is Virginia Woolf’s 136th birthday.  I decided to spend the day listening to Lorde.  I’m not done yet, but it’s been a soothing day so far.  She’s one of my healing sisters, along with Stevie Nicks, Beyoncè, Amy Lee, Sheryl Crow, Agnetha Faltskog, and Aretha Franklin.

They’re who caught me up through their music when I was (barely) enduring a period of devastation.  Losing my parents and closest siblings, divorce, surviving rape, etc.  All leveled me.  I can’t really wrap my head around the concept of such powerful bonds with people I’ve never met.  It’s too abstract.  (Much easier to just cherish it and enjoy the music.)

I’ve come to an important decision.  The next time Stevie Nicks or Fleetwood Mac tour, I’m going to go.  I’ve imagined it and tallied up the known consequences as well as potential unfortunate situations.  If they all happen, it’ll still be worth it.  (If nobody shoots me,) it’ll be an incredible experience.  (That’s the only thing I can think of at the moment that would utterly ruin it.)

I’m not going to let autism or PTSD rob me of this experience.  (Because hell no.)  I already know it’s not possible to die from being too happy.  So it’s all good.  Whatever I have to pay afterward (stapled to the floor) will be worth it.  Depending on when, I’ll either be going with M. or his sister, S.  Hopefully both.

I have noise canceling headphones to wear when the band isn’t playing.  Also, dark tinted glasses if it’s an outdoor show, or they flash bright lights at the audience.  I have lots of pocket-sized fidgets and anxiety focus figures.  Mini Tina (From Bob’s Burgers) is my favorite.

Tina

She’s only 2″ tall.  I also have a 24-Karat-Gold:  Songs from the Vault keychain from the Stevie Nicks website.  I love how it feels to hold, and it’s always cool.  I used to have a tiny Garnet from Steven Universe, but I lost it.   (I love cartoons.)  Now I want to watch Hey Arnold!, or Rocket Power.  Heh.  I’m off to read.

 

 

“So, Elaine. Are you going to dance this year?”

Beautiful and alive

I’d like to take a moment to share something important to me.  I’m surprised it’s come up, but at least now I know I need to do this.  If you encounter someone dancing to an internal rhythm, the proper etiquette is to stop what you’re doing, pick up the beat, and join in.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a good dancer.  Be cool enough to dance, anyway.  The only way you can fail at this experience is to stand there and stare as if you’re new, (on earth.)  Bob your head and move your feet, spin your wheelchair if you have one, or something.  Bust the moves you’ve been practicing for years in front of the mirror alone in your room.

It’s proper because you’re answering the unspoken question;  You’re saying, “Yes, I’m beautiful and alive.”  It’s one of those things I don’t feel comfortable saying with words, (because I was raised to fear hippies.)  So if you were previously unaware of this bit of human language, now you know.  You’re welcome.  Tell a friend.

I’ll let you imagine the scenario that led to this nano-rant.  🙃  I’m super excited because I get to play drums with other musicians tomorrow.  I’m bringing my violin, just in case.  (I know, but I’d be so sad if for once it was welcome and I didn’t have it.)

I’d better take a Benadryl tonight, or I won’t sleep.  I got a contract at work to create a custom AI with precise parameters.  I can’t say what, which is unfortunate because it’s hilarious (to me.)  I spent at least ten minutes thinking about how incredible is the human mind after making sure I understood the project.

flashduh

I also have a logo to create, so I’m anticipating a fun weekend.  I changed up my creative workstation a bit to flow better.  Also, I’m using a better mechanical keyboard for typing a book, now.  (It’s a WASD.)  And I replaced my wireless mouse with a Mionix Castor because it’s a dream for creative apps.  I figured out how to use the flash for the photo, so it’s not as painful to view.  😂

“I almost had my own show in Japan.”

Content warning:  suicidal ideation.

Message in a bottle.

I have a confession.  Every time I read or hear about humans behaving abominably toward other humans, I think about suicide.  Last year, I thought about it almost nonstop.  It was distracting, annoying, and a little scary.

I think I’m supposed to feel ashamed of this, but I don’t.  It just is.  I’m capable of being as cold as space and utterly indifferent.  I trained myself to reject those feelings.  Now it’s habitual.

I could change this internal thought process by forming a new habit, but I choose not to do so.  I don’t want to live as an unfeeling, unattached, and unaffected entity.  We have computers for that.

This is one of the few instances where I regret being too intense.  That’s not quite what I mean…  (I was going to say unbalanced, but it failed the rudeness test ((and made me giggle.)))

Sometimes I wish I could attach an attenuator to my brain.  I’ve thought too many steps ahead, and now I’m more interested in pursuing the new thread.  This is precisely why I’m such an airhead.  I do this constantly.

I can’t complain about being an airhead because it’s the most potent tool in my survival kit.  If I couldn’t distract myself, I wouldn’t still be kicking it.  I’m just far too good at it.  It makes it difficult to communicate with others.

I’ve always journaled since a child.  It’s how I talked to my mom about things more complicated than nodding and head shaking could dispatch.  I began using a typewriter when I was six because writing longhand is (still) difficult for me.

When I don’t blog I go silent.  It’s usually not immediate, but when I don’t have my computer to help me express my thoughts, I gradually stop sharing them because it takes too much effort to mostly fail at saying what I mean.

The longer it goes on, the harder it is to start talking again.  Deep down I’m always terrified I’ll lose the ability to speak permanently.  It’s kinda twisted how the more I fear, the longer it takes to reclaim the skill.   I have to convince myself to stop being afraid of that scenario before my voice returns.  (It’s rocket science when you’re exasperated.)

When I let go of the world outside my head, it’s dangerous for my lifespan.  I overanalyze to death, literally.  It’s not logical for me to exist, and I’m a surprisingly good extemporaneous speaker.  (Even when it’s just in my head.)  It wouldn’t take long to recognize I’m insignificant in any mid to large sized picture.  Then weigh it against the price I pay to participate, and conclude it’s not worth it.

(Fortunately?)  I discovered I have a new tool in my arsenal.  It’s a song by Evanescence called, Imperfection.  When Amy Lee sings, don’t you dare surrender, she sings it like she means it.  She put feeling in it like Beyoncè.

Now, when I remember 45 is still faking it, that sound byte plays in my mind.  It’s an incredibly powerful rebuke.  Startling, even.  I’m a little bit freaked out by how well it works.  But more pleased to have a new empowering tool.  Music is powerful.  (Use it responsibly.)

secret door

Oh shit, you were probably expecting a point.  It’s this:  Feeling all the feels takes incredible strength and courage because it’s not always fun or even tolerable.  Lying and pretending you don’t feel things intensely is weak sauce.

We all have survival strategies we use to function in society.  I’m just confessing my own in case someone thinks they’re the only one who has similar experiences internally.  I have a tough time trusting people (over age 21) who have never contemplated suicide.  (They smell too much like a liar.)  I’m off to beat my drums with sticks.

“Next thing you know you’re saying they should have their own schools!”

three-yellow-life-saving-buoys-on-beach-PWNY4RC.jpg

I feel like I’ve gotten a second wind.  (It probably just means I’ve recovered homeostasis.)  Before I forget, any geniuses who want me to link their blog, I’m happy to oblige.  You don’t have to be autistic.  I’d love to add links to our allies;  people who support actually autistic people as a self-advocating group endeavoring to improve our access to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

I enjoy celebrating and encouraging others who are driven to be their best self.  If that’s you, dear genius, just let me know in the comments section below.  🙃  I know I go on and on about how amazing humans are as a species, but in my line of work (AI dev), this is reiterated on a daily basis.

One of the blogs I follow is Editing AdvantageEA just graduated with a bachelors degree in English.  (You know Ms. Grammatically Challenged is wicked impressed.)  I hope you all take a moment to congratulate her.  I’m definitely going to hire her the next time I need to write an investment prospectus.

I’m heading to Denver tomorrow to meet with a new client.  I’m excited as I’ll be designing a custom musical instrument for a musician with a recent spinal chord injury.  I discussed my latest project of creating an electronic drum kit for a drummer with cerebral palsy (my bro) to a former client.  They were intrigued and mentioned me to the new client.  It led to a long FaceTime chat and a new project.  Yay.

My boss said go for it, as long as I don’t quit.  I have mixed feelings about that conversation, but it’ll keep for now.  M. is supportive of my plan to pay back Stevie Nicks, (Amy Lee, Beyoncè, Sheryl Crow, Eminem, etc.) for all they’ve given me through their words and music by paying it forward.  (He agrees it’s a better idea than trying to figure out how to send them more shit that will likely confuse them at best, from someone they were previously unaware existed.)  😂

Back to Hogwarts to learn more wisdom.  Peace.