“I hate asking for change. They always make a face. It’s like asking them to donate a kidney.”

Radioactive doll

I’m closer to mastering The Art of Not Making It Weird.  I’m ready to graduate from Just Because You Think It, Doesn’t Mean You Should Say It 101.  I believe the next course is, Yay, You Didn’t Say It! Now Stop LOLing Over It; It’s Still Weird.  Effing sigh.  (My prodigy turned 13.)

I suspect I hurt the feelings of someone I care about a great deal.  I did it unintentionally because I was masking intentionally.  Sometimes, rather than admitting I’m unable to do a task without significant clarification and assistance, I seek an alternative.

Sometimes, I don’t find one before stressing out over how long I’ve spent searching.  In those instances, I usually just go silent and add the stress to the pile of things that make my stomach hurt until I figure out how to discharge them.

Then I low-level analyze.  It’s how I recognized where I probably went wrong.  I also noticed I had an underlying shameful motivation.  Part of why I chose an alternative is because I was subconsciously (?) upset someone (whom I decided should just know without my saying a word) didn’t see it as something I couldn’t do without the patient assistance of another.  (I hate asking for help with things I think I should be able to do on my own.  Issue #29078145.)

Yep.  Hella audacious of me.  I brought luggage to the situation, and it’s led to hurt feelings.  😶  I don’t want to be an adult right now.  I just want to cry it out, then apologize, and hide for a while.  But I don’t even know if it’s appropriate to apologize for something I’m merely intuiting (assuming.)  (Glares at the center of the universe.)

You know, being an adult usually isn’t worth being able to have animal crackers and Mt. Dew for breakfast.  Even worse, you can only do it every so often, or the bill comes due, and the interest is hellacious.  I’m stuck.  I’m going to listen to Lorde and figure out what to do.

p.s.  My band doesn’t have a name yet.

“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.