Time has been flying by of late. The results of rebuilding myself with small changes are continuing to reveal astonishing outcomes. This butterfly effect is fascinating, and I’m surprisingly fearless in its midst. Letting go of my need to feel in control whenever possible is likely involved. I didn’t anticipate this skill as part of growing, but I’m delighted by it. (Bonus!) 🙃
I believe it involves a level of trust in myself to be able to cope with whatever comes my way. Experience and reflection are far more valuable than I ever imagined. I spent time lamenting the challenges, unfairness, trauma, and despair I’ve endured without recognizing the gifts that grew from the devastated ground. I failed to focus on how painful periods of fire-and-fallow eventually lead to regeneration.
This newfound understanding is a powerful anti-stress tool. My transformation from extremely high-strung to calm and tranquil is incredible. It feels as if I stumbled on it accidentally, then noticed in hindsight. My world moves more slowly now. I’m no longer stuck on a permanent three-second delay. I’m not continually racing to catch up to the present, but instead, exist here. It’s wonderful here. I can look around and breathe.
Initially, I credited this phenomenon as part of aging. But after more consideration, I’ve concluded it’s about growth. I recall being upset when I realized growth and aging don’t necessarily correlate. Based on my observations, they’re not even related. I’m perpetually attracted to those whose energy reflect tranquillity. (It’s likely because I’m highly sensitive to that of others.)
I know my proclivity for solitude is born of rejecting the exhaustion that results from proximity to chaotic energy. I used to view it as a weakness, but now I believe it’s nutrition for my soul. I’m confident it’s afforded me the ability to grow. I notice this feature in the lives of those who capture my interest and attention, as well. It also clarifies the diversity of individuals to which I’m attracted. I even appreciate the thought required to connect the dots. 🙃
For the first time in my life, I’m thankful I was interracially adopted, and raised in racial isolation. I can finally see the ways it’s had a positive effect on who I’ve become, rather than merely regret the overwhelming sorrow and pain it also entailed. While I’m still amazed I survived to adulthood, I acknowledge the fire-and-fallow created many opportunities to regenerate and grow into who I’ve become. Today, I love the beautiful garden that evolved as a consequence.
I’m having a good week. There was a near-meltdown moment that initially devastated, but quickly developed into reaffirming communication and connection with people significant to me. After taking some time to process the experience, I recognized positive aspects worthy of celebration. I went from lamenting the challenges of being autistic in a neurotypical world, to strategizing new ways of coping with them in the future, in mere hours.
The speed and clarity of resolve astonished me. I realize I’ve leveled up in the game of life. I’ve been floating on a cloud of joy ever since. The process of rebuilding and learning myself still feels new and intriguing. I almost fell into a pit of sorrow over letting go of things I once held so close. Examining the root of these values, and acknowledging the fact they were never mine, but only acquired by rote, helped me bypass the trap. Yay. 🙃
The changes I’ve made are small, but the results immense. I drink herbal teas, now. In the past, I rejected all hot beverages, without bothering to determine why. Now I know it’s because they require me to be present in my body while partaking to avoid injury. (It’s funny to me in hindsight.) Asking myself why turned out to be an excellent method of understanding myself in many ways. Naturally, it led to delving deeper with more questions.
Instead of feeling regret about being different, and trying to force me to change and pretend to be like others in pursuit of acceptance by strangers, I’m using my energy to know myself. I’m no longer accepting the values and beliefs of others as my own. If they don’t originate within my soul, they aren’t mine. Pretending they were was slowly erasing the essence of me. I have no use for acceptance based on unreality.
I’d rather be alone in the dark. – Sheryl Crow
I began watching another series on Netflix titled, Black Mirror. It’s not a show I can binge watch, (she said while giggling.) The first episode is excruciating. It’s also brilliant. It’s a 44-minute test to determine if you’re eligible to continue watching. It’s a mental tattoo. I’m pleased it exists as I love things that lead to new paths of thought and discussion. It also provokes me to question and learn myself.
It’s dark and foggy this week, and I struggle to sleep when it’s so humid. Last night, I lay in bed listening to Amy Lee (Evanescence.) I thought about how her music has accompanied my life through many hardships and growing pains. I think I finally grok why certain musicians reach me so profoundly. It’s about energy. My knowledge and vocabulary are presently limited on this topic, as I’m relying solely on intuition. I plan to explore it further, though.
I used to get so offended when people would question my choices in music (often based on things as superficial as race.) I think it’s because I didn’t know why some appeal to me far more than others. I’m thrilled to understand. Amy Lee, Stevie Nicks, ABBA, Lorde, Sheryl Crow, Bach, Mozart, etc. These musicians create music I can climb inside and bask in energy that soothes my soul. That’s why. 🙃😂 I’m off to band practice. 💜✌🏽
I haven’t posted in a while. I was distraught and found solace in silence. During that time, I did a lot of thinking, growing, accepting, and letting go. I purged several rote beliefs that weren’t working out. I forced traumatic memories into a distant room in my mind and unimagined the door. I can’t forget them, but I don’t want to be owned by them, so they’ve been banished from my thoughts. The resulting lessons are all that matter.
Rebuilding myself was a painful process, but it was necessary. I like who I am now. I’m in the midst of transforming, but the groundwork exists. I know I’ll experience far less stress in the future. I’ve kicked guilt and regret to the curb, as I’ve finally grokked the ridiculous concepts they are. (Needless to say, I still have no time machine and am not actively trying to create one.) 😂
I looked back on the choices I’ve made thus far and noted patterns. When I was a teenager, I joined the Army. Soon after that, I joined a fundamentalist Christian church, as well. I see now a lot of my choices were because I didn’t know how to do life. I wanted instruction and desired to know all the rules. I believed and enjoyed following rules. They made me feel like I was doing life right.
I thought there was a right way and a wrong way, and I wanted to be sure I made right choices. The Army was excellent with rules and telling me what to do, and how to do it. I loved having manuals with diagrams for virtually every action, lots of tradition, history, and guidance. I fully intended to serve as long as permitted. I believed I made an incredibly wise decision by volunteering. I fell for all the recruitment tactics, thinking I was helping my community and nation. I thought I was a brilliant teenager doing noble work for a good cause. 😂
In reality, I was an American teenager. I don’t fault myself for volunteering to be (further) groomed by my country. I was clueless, enthusiastic, and incredibly naive. Now, when I remember reciting the Pledge of Allegiance as a child, I forgive myself. Of course, I fell for it. I was born without wisdom. I’ve since acquired a smidgen. The purpose of grooming is rape. I’m quite literal. I know myself well enough to accept I had to experience it to understand. I recognize I’m slow to grok reality.
The Army also afforded me the chance to visit other countries, which quickly led to realizing patriotism, nationalism, etc., were mere tools to create tools. People are as different as they are alike. Individuals, every one. At this point in my life, my only reliable classification system for humans: asshole or not. I hate assholes. I want nothing to do with any of them. I used to choose only to behave in a manner that doesn’t cause deliberate harm to others, regardless of how they treated me. After much thought and experience, I’ve abandoned this strategy.
There are a lot of humans on this planet. Most are striving to live their lives to the best of their ability in harmony with those around them. They have no interest in going out of their way to hurt other people. These are the people I love. There are also a lot of assholes living on earth. I no longer hold any compunction against killing any asshole who deliberately seeks to kill or torture me or those I love.
Assholes choose to be hateful, spiteful, vile, and destructive. They kill people for existing while being different, despite their not harming anyone. They lie, steal, cheat, and create misery merely because they choose to do so. I don’t care about them. They’re troglodytic vermin who are actively seeking to destroy our future as a species. I don’t value assholes. I’m glad they’re all going to die, (even if I don’t lift a finger to speed up the process.) I’m going to enjoy what remains of my life while avoiding them like the plague they are.
Not all are entitled to kindness, respect, etc. I’m so glad I finally believe this. I’m going to go enjoy being my new self; Alison who thinks, who hates assholes, and only values those who don’t seek to destroy. Me who throws away trash, and doesn’t look back or agonize where I can’t affect change. Yay.
P.S. Thanks for reaching out to me in my absence, Lily. Also to those who gently nudged in other ways. I love and appreciate you. Comments close automatically after a few days due to spam, (digital assholes.) 😂
I was going to put a content warning above this post, but after a few moments consideration, I recognize it’s a ridiculous notion. At least I got a good chuckle out of it. I’m amused. It’s likely because it seems I don’t sleep anymore. Aside from feeling like I’m a week into recovering from an epic ass whooping, I don’t mind. It’s afforded me plenty of time to think.
Since I can’t figure out how to stop thinking, I decided to embrace it. Funnily enough, it occurred to me I’m just intelligent enough to recognize how stupid I am. I’m astonished by the depth of my stupidity. Fortunately, most things I do that allow me to exist are automatic biological processes; breathing, circulation, etc.
I’m most amused by how humans attempt to measure intelligence and use the tenuous conclusions to determine who has access to specific information, as well as justification for abusing those deemed incapable. I fell for it. I’m an idiot. I fall for all sorts of nonsensical bullshit. Eventually, I recognized the difference between genius and idiot is irrelevant.
In my lifetime, the only relevant factors for homo sapiens are white skin and dominance capacity. Dominance capacity probably equates to having the biggest stick, although, if you can convince enough people you have the biggest stick, you don’t even need one. The universe is the best comedian ever. 😂
I spent years believing I was superior to others because I was dumb enough to accept and embrace the genius narrative. I took pride in obtaining a doctoral degree without spending any of the imaginary currency I believed I could own; all because I performed well on some test that claimed to identify my intellect as exceptional in comparison to others who took the test. It’s hilarious and tragic at the same time. (It’s also excellent evidence I’m an idiot.)
I’m also amused by how humanity has developed a manual and several professions aimed at identifying those who are sane, and those who aren’t. Let’s take a look at how a random internet dictionary defines it, shall we?
Sane:
adjective, san·er, san·est.
free from mental derangement; having a sound, healthy mind: a sane person.
having or showing reason, sound judgment, or good sense: sane advice.
sound; healthy.
Yeah. I’ve yet to encounter anyone who meets these criteria. Not a single human being in my over forty years of observing. I’ve only witnessed sanity as mood-like; fleeting. Sometimes people are sane; sometimes not. Nobody I know of is always rational. There are degrees of sanity and valid illnesses that affect it, but that about covers it. It’s fleeting in everyone I’ve observed, including those who purport to treat and define it. (In my experience, especially.) 😂🤣
Homo sapiens are good at separating people into groups. These groups are used to determine who gets access to resources, or more to the point, who gets to live. It’s a complicated and convoluted big stick wielding exercise. It’s poorly veiled domination. (I don’t get to judge it as poorly done, because I’m an idiot who fell for it.) I’m so dumb; I fell in love with homo sapiens because I haven’t been able to train a computer to do even a fraction of what most of us can do, after spending most of my life trying.
That’s right. I wasted most of my life teaching a computer to be an even dumber version of my dumb ass. Worse, I almost accepted a shit-load of imaginary currency because I managed to do it more effectively than others. It seemed a smart thing to do; to acquire access to far more resources in exchange for the product of my wasted effort that sucks more than I do.
My life would probably last a lot longer if I took the fake money. I’d have a massive stick. Unfortunately, I somehow figured out what my big stick would mean for other humans. I messed around and noticed the way humans live on earth means only a finite number get to survive; and at the cost of other lives. Stupid as I am, I’m sure lots of others figured this out too. It just seems most don’t care. Self-preservation trumps all else for most people, I suppose.
We have a bunch of ancient texts that state otherwise, but from what I’ve seen, most use them as a manual on how to appear good to other people, not how to live. They’re quite fascinating to read, though. They profoundly contradict the sanity narrative, but somehow manage to be considered the accepted exception. They’re infinitely twistable to fit nearly any agenda. Useful, that. Humans are exceptional at creating imaginary sticks, eh? Sadly, they’re often supported by those who carry real ones, which is why they work. ☹️
I’m so stupid; I’d rather die than kill. I’m not even interested in owning a stick, real or imaginary. The US military couldn’t cure me of this affliction. It doesn’t matter how many people beat me with their sticks, and many have. I fully expect more blows in my future. I was born into several undesirable groups that pretty much guarantee a shortened journey by one of these blows, sooner than later. Perhaps I’m just smart enough to recognize it as a blessing. I’m off to beat my drums with (non-dominating) sticks. 😂✌🏽
