Lighten up. It’ll only feel like an eternity.

I’m back in Denver.  I’m only here for the weekend.  I needed a break from my anxiety.  It was intense, but I’m not feeling much anxiety right now.  Just a little bit from unfamiliar sounds.  I got my iPhone 7+, and brought it, but not my Galaxy 7 Edge.  I forgot about the lack of an audio port, and didn’t bring my new wireless Bose QuietComfort 35 headset.  It’s become too treasured to risk losing on a trip.  I wish I thought to bring the earbuds that came with the phone.  I’ve never bothered with Apple earbuds, since the original version didn’t fit in my ear.  I’m not an audiophile, but even I know to toss any earphones that come with a device.  My feelings about wireless earbuds remain as before; they’re ridiculous.

We’re not yet where we need to be in tech prowess to create wireless earbuds that don’t suck.  We’re getting there, but trust me, Samsung and Apple are using their customers as beta testers.  I’m not saying that’s wrong, it’s logical.  But some people don’t realize this before buying first generation gadgets.  If you buy something new that was recently made available, and it uses batteries or electricity, you’re going to be disappointed.  It will have issues.  Underpowered until they figure out how to eliminate overheating issues.  Shitty battery life.  A design that’s quickly declared fugly, and soon after, replaced with something sleeker.  Missing options that show up in a near-future release.  It’s cool if you’re not the type of person who loses it when you pay several hundred dollars, then find out it wasn’t anywhere near a final revision.

I’m able to think a lot easier now.  I’ve accepted the election results, of course.  Not with a smile, but I’ll get over myself.  Every time I recall how shocked I was, and how excruciating it was to adjust to something I wasn’t expecting, I just remind myself that Hillary Clinton is back at work.  I don’t have the gall necessary to continue whining, knowing that fact.  I’m proud of her.  That was some serious testicular fortitude.  Epic, even.  I’m adjusting my attitude, because I can’t afford it.  I am, and always have been, against the concept of hating people who support a different candidate than I.  Obviously, they have a different perspective.  The smartest thing to do in that situation, is listen.

First of all, hating someone is a waste of energy.  I’ve never met an adult who has energy to spare for such things.  They’re either rejecting hate, or something else in their life is suffering for their indulgence.  I say rejecting, because I understand that sometimes we hate for a minute, then abandon it, because we understand how this works.  The only difference between the average supporter of candidate A and the same for candidate B, is perspective.  How can you hate someone for having a different perspective than you?  It’s ridic.  Now, I’m not talking about the people who do nasty things to other people.  There are people like that supporting all candidates.  I cringe when I see tweets about people being hateful, loudly, in support of a political candidate.

But it’s always a few, not everyone who supports the candidate.  In every other aspect of life (I’m aware of), this rings true as well.  But for some reason, we don’t get as worked up about it, (unless it’s religion).  The word extreme exists for a reason.  Every political stance you can think of has a supporter.  I know a lot of POC and LGBTQ people who are freaking out in advance of what they suspect will happen once Trump takes office.  I’ve heard some grim predictions, but I’m not as certain they’ll all become a reality.  Some probably will.  It’ll suck, and I’ll fight in every legal way I can think of, to support a reality where everyone in our species is afforded the same liberties.  I read a lot of sci-fi.  A lot.  I’m realizing it’s warped my perspective.  It’s fascinating.

The authors I enjoy the most in the genre have a common vision for the future of humanity.  They see us overcoming poverty, hunger, and intolerance of other human beings for reasons beyond their control.  That’s never the focus of the story, but it’s an aspect I adore.  My favorite authors in the genre are Neal Stephenson, Peter F. Hamilton, John Scalzi, James S. A. Corey, and that’s all I can think of, because I’m stoned.  But those four are pretty amazing.  Well, five.  James S. A. Corey is a pen name used by two authors.  I’m usually not keen on collaboration where art is concerned, but The Expanse series is as fun as Firefly.  I like the TV show, too.  I hope it stays on air for years.  Unless Netflix purchases the production, and keeps it going even longer.  That would be ideal.

I’ve wandered back to my second point.  Freaking out in advance.  This is illogical.  If we turn out to have something to freak out about, we should freak out then, (and rise together soon after).  Now is the time to enjoy the status quo, not worry about a future that may never come.  Worrying is right up there with hating.  Avoid both like they’re poisonous, because they are.  Freaking out takes an incredible amount of energy.  Doing so for a few months will land you in a hospital, or morgue.  It will do absolutely nothing but make you sick.  It’s too close to fear.  Fear is one of those things you need to come to terms with as soon as possible.  If you’re an adult, and you don’t know how to cope with fear, you should work on it.  It’s important.  Focus on your strength.  You have more than you can sense.

If you’re a parent, anytime you freak out, so do your kids.  They usually find creative ways to express it, too.  It’s just not worth the cost when the future is unknown.  Worry and fear are siblings.  Feeding them your attention when you’re not in immediate danger is expensive, and you likely can’t afford it.  If you visualize yourself in the role of a victim of (society, circumstances, etc.), that’s what you’ll become.  Don’t waste your visualization ability on visuals that portray your life sucking in any way.  Do the opposite.  Humans are dreamers.  Dream what you want and need, not what you fear and dread.  I believe there’s a threshold to negative thoughts, and exceeding it has dire consequences.  Controlling what you think is easier than breathing.  If you’re easily distracted, practice until you master it.  Lots of meditation guru’s break down the process of controlling your thoughts while they teach meditation techniques.  If you catch yourself worrying, find a distraction, and do that instead.

Apparently, I saved up my words from the last five days, and poured them all into this post.  Um… For your convenience, not because I’m still stoned, (hahaha).  I’m still not feeling anxious.  I won’t for a few days after I get home, at the least.  I forgot to record how long it lasted, for obvious reasons.  Things are absolutely funnier when I’m stoned.  I love that.  I’d tell you some of the silly things that amused me, but I can’t remember.  I normally have a good memory, so this would probably be upsetting if I wasn’t stoned.  Okay, I’ll stop.  You’re welcome.

buzzcut season

I watched Sisters again.  That movie is so funny.  It wasn’t as crude as Bridesmaids, but just as hilarious.  I loved the cast.  Samantha Bee is in it, too.  Tina Fey and Amy Poehler portray generation x so honestly.  They do shit you did when you didn’t think anyone was watching.  My face hurt from smiling and laughing so much.  It’s absolutely going into my depression box.  I’ve been having a great time on the staycation end of my vacation.  I’ve also been sleeping since I got back from Denver.  Regular, nightmare free, sleep.  Each time I awaken, I sit there for a moment and bask in the wonderful feeling of being well rested.

This feels like my default.  My garrison.  This is the “me” that I strive for when I’m struggling.  I’m normally pretty happy.  Somewhere between the giddiness just before delivering the punchline, and on the verge of laughing.  I’m aware of my surroundings, but they’re muted enough to ignore effortlessly.  I feel creative urges, bordering on compulsions.  If I engage in any activity surrounding my interests, I begin to hyperfocus almost immediately.  I’ve been rocking and pacing a lot, but not like a drone.  While I’m stimming, I’m also brainstorming.  I either brainstorm about algorithms, or I brainstorm about creating something.  Like a poem, song, digital painting, or short story.

What I love the most about my default, is that it’s me at my almost best.  It’s like running at 80% speed in progressive intervals.  It trains you to push your 100% effort for longer.  It builds me up.  It’s awesome.  I’m loving my time here.  I know it’s temporary.  Sometimes, I push myself to my 100% best in order to achieve a goal I’ve set for myself.  I don’t do this very often.  I try to make it really count, when I do, though.  I’d rather get 3rd place most often, and go for 1st place when it matters most to me.  It’s a lot like a self esteem exercise you’d get in therapy.  Identify what you really want, then go after it with everything you have.  Put the mission first at all times to avoid getting distracted.

Eventually, the Depression Monster will come to call again.  Anxiety likes to try and make me her bitch on a daily basis, but I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping her in check.  Running is my best weapon against both.  Swimming is an alternative.  It’s probably better in that it makes my body strong all over.  Running requires additional exercises to prevent injury.  But it’s the most flexible.  After that, all I really have is distraction.  I have a depression box full of activities I normally enjoy.  I have a canister I decorated, and filled with small papers with activities written on them.   I draw one out, and just do it.  I have a sign on the wall next to the shelf with my depression box that says, “Just Do It”.  It’s a Nike ad, but it works for me.  If you insert, “just do it”, as a rebuttal to every argument with yourself as to why you can’t do something, it works every time.

Here’s a little something no one tells you about depression:  It makes you dumb.  You’re just so distracted by the chemical warfare going on in your brain that you can only focus on clear, short commands.  You don’t want to do them, but you can if you push yourself.  It’s incredible, the amount of effort it takes to do one simple task, when depressed.  So when you push through, and do it anyway, you just kicked the Depression Monster in his junk.  Each time you push a little further, you deliver him another blow.  But he’s a trickster.  Don’t fall for it when he tries to make a truce.  He’s really trying to trap you into accepting meh as good enough.  It’s not.  Meh sucks.  Meh is a depressed stupor in which you can function, but can never quite remember why you bother.  Fuck meh.  Aim for your default.  Your place where you feel most like yourself.  The depressed you is an imposter.

I know some people hate it when others claim it’s possible to fight depression with sheer will.  All I can state is that it’s possible for me to do so.  I have PTSD, and depression is a major part of it for me.  I have never experienced the depression of someone else, for obvious reasons.  In many cases, there are commonalities among those with the diagnosis, and this allows us to share what methods in fighting it prove successful.  Often, they are helpful to many people.  But I acknowledge the fact that there are exceptions, and I don’t want to imply that what works for me will work for everyone.

The more time I spend learning about diversity among humans, the more I recognize the mistakes I’ve made in the past.  I regret them, and am learning new ways to be respectful to other humans.  While I personally have a no malice, no foul policy, I don’t assume others do.  I don’t want to hurt anyone without realizing it.  It sucks ass when someone is insensitive to you for a reason you have no control over.  It hurts.  I can cope with it, but I can’t assume everyone else can as well.  So I’m interested in learning ways to avoid it.

One thing I want to note to other Autistics and similar who try weed, is that  you should remember to stretch before going to sleep.  Our proclivity for remaining in the same position for a good bit of time is magnified by weed.  I sat at a 45% angle for no apparent reason at some point, and didn’t move until my abdominal muscle spasmed.  The next day, I was so sore.  Mostly my neck, shoulders, and stomach muscles.  But my joints were sore, too.  I sit on my legs, and don’t move for a long time when doing activities.  They go to sleep, and then pain settles into my joints.  Most people move when they fall asleep.  Weed messes with your ability to communicate with your body a little.  Nothing frightening, just a heads up for when you wake up a little sore.  It’s so worth it.

Dude…

Today was a really good day.  I’m proud of myself for following through with my plans, even though I started getting pretty anxious a few hours before it was time to go.  I used an app on my phone to hire an Uber to deliver me to the restaurant where we all met up for the tour.  I arrived early, but the majority of the group did as well.  I wasn’t hungry for lunch, so I got a chocolate Rice Krispie treat that was the size of a coconut, and a lemonade.  It was less than $4 for both.  We had to get nametags and show our ID before we could board the buses.  There were 2 full buses of us for this tour.  I sat down with a couple from Indiana until it was time to board at 12:30-ish.

First, we went to a grow warehouse.  It was large, but not more so than I had imagined.  It was a very tight ship in ways that surprised me.  I had no idea so much went into the process of growing multiple strains.  Even the air quality and pressure are micro managed.  We saw plants in various stages of growth as we looped through.  Afterward, we visited the same dispensary I went to yesterday after arriving.  I even had the same person help me, and she remembered me.  I got cartridges of a specific strain and a rechargeable vape stick.  No odor, no smoke, no taste.  I tried it yesterday, and learned that it doesn’t take much.  But today was a whole other level.

Before we even left the restaurant, 2 people in my bus lit up some pre-rolls and started the puff, puff, pass.  Then they turned on the music and light effects.  Unlike school buses, the seating was all along the perimeter, and walkway in the middle.  There were drink holders behind our seat in front of the windows.  They gave us bottled water and pop for those who wanted that instead.  I tuned out halfway through the safety speech just from the second hand effects.  The music was old stoner classics, including reggae.  I recognized bits of songs here and there, and enjoyed listening.  Normally, the loud music would have had me so tense I would have gotten a migraine.  But for some reason, this music strongly urged me to play percussion on my seat.  I do like playing drums, but I’ve never felt such a strong urge to play along with the music before.  So I did that while watching out the window for most of the ride.

The first people I talked to were the couple from Indiana in the restaurant.  After them, I sat next to a couple from Arkansas.  I think I might have seated myself too closely to them, but they didn’t seem to mind, and by the time we were all aboard, there wasn’t much space left.  It’s something I’m working on in OT.  The extra effort to be present in the moment when I’m moving.  It’s a lot harder than it sounds.  But the benefits of mastering it will be far less bruises, scrapes, and bumps.  And less instances where I sit or stand too closely to someone else, because I miscalculated the distance due to not paying attention closely enough.  I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have at least 2 bruises.  So it’ll probably be worth the effort.

Across from me was a couple from Atlanta and a couple from Chicago.  We talked about politics, weed laws in our states, and startups.  The younger couples sat in the back of the bus.  I sat in the front with the Gen-X’ers.  The ones in back got things started, and kept them going the entire time.  At no point from the time we pulled out to the time we returned, was there not at least 2 joints making the rounds.  They passed out joints to whoever wanted them, and went over the itinerary.  After the first stop, they brought out the bong.  I had never used one, so one of the tour guides showed me how.  It was easy, and then I coughed so hard I had tears in my eyes.  A short time after that, it hit me.  It was noticeable, but in a gentle way.  It was similar to the feeling you get when you step out of a loud, chaotic environment, and into a new space that is utterly silent.  You marvel for a second, and then smile.

I’ve been back for a while now, but I still feel quite stoned.  I don’t know if it’s because I had so much, or what, but I’m not complaining.  More like apologizing for any typos or misspellings due to my present state.  I don’t know what strains we were given on the tour, but it was probably a hybrid.  I didn’t feel like I melted into a sofa, but I felt very relaxed both mentally and physically.  When we arrived at our next stop, we got more educational information, and another dispensary visit.  The last tour was glass blowing, but I stayed on the bus for that.  I have a high sensitivity to bright light.  While I waited, one of the tour guides took my phone in with her and photographed the process for me.  She did a good job.  At least some of my pics won’t have mostly my fingers in them.  I’ll go through them when I get home and run them through Photoshop if they’re as bad as I suspect.

I’m very surprised by how much I had, and breathed, but still feel fine.  They did warn us about dehydration, and being mindful of the elevation.  Apparently, alcohol has an increased potency effect at this elevation.  That explains Coors.  Fortunately, nobody in my group had been drinking, or at the most had very little before the trip.  Nobody pulled out early.  Nobody got overwhelmed or anything.  Everyone was kind, and the atmosphere was joyful the entire time.  There were probably about 20 of us on each bus.  I didn’t count, which is amazing.  I usually count as many things as possible.  I didn’t count anything today.  This is a good thing because sometimes it feels more like a compulsion than a desire.  I don’t like it when I waste a lot of time on automatic pilot.

There was one guy on the tour whom I’ve met before at a conference.  He’s also a former googler.  We spent the first half of the tour taking turns staring at eachother, trying to place where we crossed paths before.  It was a nice mix of Caucasian, African-American, Hispanic, and Asian.  About half Millennials, and half Gen-X.  It was an amazing amount of information, too.  That was awesome.  I didn’t expect them to go into such detail, but I’m so glad they did.  That’s one thing I like about Denver.  There is an undertone of excitement among the people here.  It’s contagious, and everyone I pass has a smile or a head nod.  This kind of blows my mind, as it’s so much larger than Sioux Falls.  I never realized this before, but there’s a different type of relationship between big city dwellers, and small towners.  But it’s not less, or more.  Just different.

I expected a big city to have a lot of distrust and disconnect between strangers.  I don’t see that here.  People are calmer.  This is a big deal to me.  It’s so much easier to be around calm people than chaotic.  It’s like the difference between cashmere, and a hair shirt to me.  It helped a lot today.  I had such a good time.  My face hurts from smiling and laughing so much.  I was fine up until the final 30 minutes.  I needed to pee badly, but didn’t want to use one of the public facilities during the tour.  I made it in time, but it was a close call.  I tried to picture in my head what would happen if I lost the battle.  I didn’t manage to do so, which is probably a good thing.  I’m proud of myself for managing this challenge.

Weed For Autism

I’m home.  I had a lovely time, but I’m so glad to be home.  My cat made loud, long meows when I came in.  Like she was saying, “Just where in the hell do you think you’ve been?  I’ve been waiting for you to come back, and started to lose confidence.  I ransacked your kitchen as a demonstration of my anxiety.  Don’t even think about finding a remote control anytime soon.  And you know that place you always insist I get down from?  Been sitting there for hours.  And here you come, walking in like you own the place.  Not to mention you forgot to leave the heat on! It’s freakin’ 61 degrees in here!  You. Are. Grounded!!”

Or something like that.  She opened my freezer and left it open.  My popsicles were warm liquid when I discovered this.  I tossed them, shut the door, and it kicked back on.  I imagine my electric bill will reflect this.  But the worst part of getting home was the fact that it was bitterly cold and windy.  And dark.  And I was unable to find my car in the long term parking lot.  They all looked the same while covered in a foot of snow.  I walked about in search of it for about 10 minutes, during which time I cursed myself for not bringing a hat.  Then my face and ears felt like they were on the verge of frost bite, so I went back into the airport.

I sat down and waited for my face to defrost.  I wanted to cry, it was so cold.  At one point, I started thinking I wouldn’t be able to make it back inside.  But that was just Anxiety talking.  She’s such a bitch.  After warming up, I went back outside to the one and only remaining taxi.  I asked the driver if he would drive me around to look for my car, (out loud!!!).  We negotiated that I would pay him $10 plus parking fee to do so.  We drove about, but it was too dark.  I didn’t find it.  So instead, I asked him to take me home.  He flipped on the meter and took me home.

I didn’t get high yesterday because I didn’t want to be compromised while in public.  But the lingering effects are noticeable.  For one, I normally wouldn’t have gone up to a parked Taxi and talked, (out loud mind you) to the driver.  It was the first time I’ve spoken out loud in weeks.  I wasn’t freaking out while this was taking place, either.  I was thinking only of my mission to get home.  While riding, I normally say nothing to the driver.  This time, I initiated a conversation.  ME!!  I asked him if he’s lived in Sioux Falls for long.  This was a safe assumption because he was black and had an obvious accent.

He told me he’s lived here for 2 years, and that he loves it.  He has 2 kids, and feels it’s a great place to raise children.  He told me that prior to moving here, he lived in West Philly for 10 years.  And yes, during the rest of our conversation, I heard The Fresh Prince of Bel Air in my mind;  “West Philadelphia, born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days.”  That made me laugh internally.  I thanked him, gave him a decent tip, and went inside.  I checked my mail, and inside was a nice, new,  warm hat I ordered.  I laughed instead of crying, and got on the elevator.

I’ve since unpacked, and opened the big gift waiting for me since I left.  It’s a beautiful new electric guitar.  It’s a dark blue, almost purple.  I’ll post photos later.  Then I read for a bit, and went to bed.  I slept hard.  My cat has been glued to me since she finished going off.  She’s very happy today, which is fun to see.  She’s been steadily purring since then too.  I think she may have worried I had abandoned her.  Poor baby.  I don’t think I’ll be able to leave her for days again.  Next time, I’ll get my doctor to transform her status to medical companion, or some shit.  Then I’ll take her with me.  I saw a woman playing with a cat in the Denver airport.  The carrier was sitting open on the floor, and she had a harness and leash on the cat.  The cat was all black and beautiful.  I wanted to go over and play too, but I refrained.

My cat is too loud for commercial travel.  I mean, normally she’s quiet and sweet.  But when she’s not happy, she yells and carries on.  It would be too stressful.  I’ll think about it more another time.  I need to call a Taxi to take me back to the airport to find my car.  I’ve decided I’m going to do that tomorrow.  I didn’t feel like it today.  It’s stupid cold with the wind chill.  Actual temperature is 6.  But with windchill, it’s -17.  No wonder I thought I was going to freeze, walking around without a hat on.  But I didn’t get frostbite or anything.  I like the cold, but only when I can dress for it.

I’ve always thought that my Army training made me a little bit intimidating to strangers.  I guess I just figured it was an automatic thing once you learn to kill effectively.  I was wrong.  In fact, I must be the opposite.  People kept talking to me.  Kids kept sitting beside me, leaning ON ME, watching me play on my 3DS.  Their parents didn’t seem at all concerned.  One told her kid to stay there while she went to the bathroom!  She went, returned with food, and still didn’t mind her son all up in my game.  I kept playing, and was reading a lot of prompts to understand what was going on in the game, when the little boy started hitting the button to get past the text.  He was probably too little to read well, and didn’t want to wait.  I laughed and let him.  Then I looked up and noticed 2 more kids, one who then started to lean over my back while standing on the seat behind me.  I laughed again.  Then I held the game up and looked at them.  This is the universal sign for, “Who’s next?”.

The kid who was still trying to figure out how to get the best watching angle snatched it out of my hand and stared at the screen for a moment.   Then quietly, without looking up, said, “Mine because I couldn’t see”.  Kid logic.  Then he looked at me and smiled.  I laughed again.  The other 2 were rearranging to get the best view.  I instinctively wanted to pull out my PS Vita and start playing that, but I caught myself.  We migrated to the floor and continued taking turns.  Then one of the planes came in and a bunch of people started walking in from off the plane.  Then 2 out of 3 of the kids were gathered up to leave.  The remaining kid was having his turn, and without looking up, asked me which Pokemon games I have.

I shuffled through my cartridges and lined up my Pokemon games.  He tapped the ones he has.  It tickled me to recognize that since I wasn’t talking out loud, he decided not to either.  I love this about children.  He switched games to Pokemon X.  We played until our plane started boarding.  Then afterward, he sat with me on the plane, along with 2 little girls.  I looked around, and yep.  Every kid on the plane was sitting with me.  This isn’t the first time this has happened.  I think this means I’m not intimidating at all.  I figure since I don’t and won’t be having any children, the least I can do is allow a parent to use the bathroom in private once in a while.

We’re supposed to get more snow, so I’d better go get my car tomorrow morning.  I’ll have to dress warm.  Owning a white car sucks right now.  I hate that part of me wishes I could just abandon the car and start with a new one.  I love my car, but I’m not looking forward to retrieving it.  When I move, I won’t have to drive.  I will be able to, but I hate driving, so I doubt I will much.  Knowing me, I’ll use GPS to go everywhere until I feel comfortable driving there.  Then I’ll use public transportation as much as possible, and get rides from my aide when it’s not feasible.  I want to lower my carbon footprint.  Living in a largish city should have that result.  In South Dakota, having a car is necessary.  We drive everywhere, but we also consider greater distances as “within driving range”.  We can drive across town in 30 minutes, but we think nothing of driving 4 hours to Minneapolis or Omaha to shop or see a show.  Anything under 5 hours is fair game for a day trip.

I’ve done day trips to Minneapolis, Des Moines, and Omaha.  It’s not that we don’t have things to do here.  It’s just that there are a lot more things you can do in the twin cities.  It can make for a long day, though.  I’m glad to be home.  I missed my pillow.  And my stuff.  I got gift cards to Puzzle Warehouse, which is my favorite place to buy puzzles.  Much better this way, as I get to choose which ones I want, and no doubles.  I also got a lifetime supply of candy.  Maybe not lifetime, but lots!  My nephews loved the gifts I got them.  A drone with printed out instructions to register it.  And for my other nephew, a PS4 the Darth Vader edition and some games.  Rock Band 4, and a few others.

My sister has sent me 3 texts so far today.  She wasn’t with us this time.  I thanked her for the guitar.  It’s not as heavy as I thought.  I’m holding off on playing with it today.  I’m just relaxing and reassuring my cat today.  I think it’s awesome that weed had such a positive effect for me.  I wrote down the names of the strains I liked, and will be using it again when I move there.  I’m seeing that it’s not something I’ll need to do every day, as the lingering effects are still working for me now.  Maybe a few times a week.  It doesn’t take much, either.  It was a hybrid that worked best for me.  Called Blue Dream.  There are several dispensaries that have that strain in Denver, so that’s good.  I’m off to read.

Last stoned entry

I hate that WordPress is forcing these changes on us.  I liked the old format better.  This new format is too white.  I’m stoned again.  My nephew is keeping the excess I purchased for my next visit.  I misplaced my iPhone.  I was going to take pics for a friend, and haven’t figured out where I left it yet.  Normally, I would be freaking out about this, but I’m too stoned to freak out.  It’s a good thing.

I tried to take a drag off my nephews oversized joint, but it burned my throat and made me cough.  Then it hit me hard.  I won’t be trying that again anytime soon.  I was going to say ever, but I figure I should leave myself some room for changing my mind.  Tomorrow (technically today), I fly home.  I miss my cat.  I left out plenty of food and water, and left fresh litter in her box.  So she’ll be okay, but will probably tell me off when I first walk in.  Last time, she created a fur nest in front of the door that let me know she’d spent a lot of time sitting there wondering where I went.

Tomorrow will be busy.  It’s snowing here, but not really accumulating.  It’s done this on and off all day and night.  Glad I brought my coat.  Wish I brought a hat.  I’m going shopping in the morning, then heading home.  It’s been a fun trip.  I’ve laughed so hard.  I didn’t run on the treadmill today as there was someone in there when I showed up.  I hate missing a run.  Oh well, I’m off to read.

Stoned entry #1

I’m stoned.  I probably shouldn’t try to write a blog post in this condition, but oh well.  Here goes.  I’ve been partaking of recreational weed while on my Christmas vacation in Denver.  I purchased way too much, as I had no idea it lasted so long.  I’m a lightweight for sure, but I’ve tried a sativa, an indica, and a hybrid so far.  I like the indica.  The hybrid messed with my off switch.  I felt like I was glitching while on automatic pilot.  It was too far back for my comfort level.  It felt too autistic.  Too cut off.  The indica was perfect.  It allowed me to exist without anxiety for about 6 hours.  I was in tears.  It shocked me how wonderful it feels to be without anxiety.  I kept telling my nephew I was crying because I’m happy.  He was worried it was having an unpleasant affect on me.  The opposite was true.

I’ll admit, I’m very much pro weed for medical usage.  That’s just logic.  I’m also pro weed as a recreational drug for those 21 and older.  With the same laws as those surrounding alcohol.  I think anyone who says they drive better when high is lying, regardless of how they got high.  I absolutely feel differently than what’s normal for me.  It’s a pleasant feeling because of the break from anxiety.  It’s easy to only notice anxiety when it interrupts me, and forget about the low levels that never fully go away.  I understand that this has at least as much to do with my autism as it does my PTSD.  PTSD comes and goes, and is an often, but not constant bother.  Autism is 24/7.  However, right now while I’m high, I feel less autistic.  I can only explain this by relating that the background struggle constantly going on within me regarding unavoidable interruptions and sensory disturbances becomes less.  I’m basking in the less.  It’s a nice rest.

I also noticed that Blended, with Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore is hilarious when you’re stoned.  I think I was more able to pay attention, because I noticed all kinds of funny things I missed when I watched it before.  I could tell there was some ad libbing.  It also seemed like everyone in it was having a great time.  This made it even more enjoyable.  I haven’t gotten the munchies.  I’m a little bit disappointed about that.  I was looking forward to feeling strong hunger.  I think it might really be a decreased ability to stop doing an activity.  The repetitive motion of putting food in your mouth is a stim.  (Non-autistic people are unaware that they also stim when their inhibitions are lowered enough.)  The behavior is stimulating, so you continue to do it.   The high feeling from THC is probably the best way for a neurotypical person to experience neurodiversity on a low, temporary level.

It’s ironic to me that we’re considered frigid in our thinking, when in reality, we’re far more fluid than the neurotypical mind can easily grasp.  I suppose any extreme can have an opposite.  We spend a lot of our early life building bridges of thought in order to connect and communicate.  The motivation to do such a thing comes from many factors and are varied.  Feeling motivated to connect with my Mom was natural.  My brother, Steve, too.  He could always make me laugh.  Laughing has always been one of my favorite things to do.  Laughing and flapping is heavenly.  Try it sometime when nobody is looking.

Made it

I made it to Denver without a single catastrophe.  I did, however, hit a few bumps in the road.  The first was when I left to drive myself to the airport.  I debated about calling a taxi, but parking is cheap, so I parked in long term parking.  The second I stepped out of my car, I looked down and saw I was standing on ice.  I managed to unload my luggage and walk in without falling.  It was windy and cold when I walked in.  I had gone back and forth about just wearing a hoodie instead of a coat.  I’m so glad I went with the coat.

My plane was delayed because they had to de-ice it.  It took about an hour.  When we landed, a couple seated behind me started freaking out because they had 1 minute to get to another gate for a connecting flight.  Denver has a huge airport.  I had to take a fucking train while still inside the airport just to get to my ride.  It was super crowded, and people kept smiling and pushing their way aboard even though we were already so close we were no longer strangers.  When it took off, I started to fall into a guy next to me, who laughed, caught me, and braced me just before we stopped.  The stop was even worse.  It was like the way you drove for your first year.  You always followed too closely, waited too long to apply the breaks, and caused passengers to jolt forward and fear for their lives every time you stopped.  Like that.

Finally, I arrived at the agreed upon door and found my ride straight away.  I got in, fastened my seatbelt, and was handed a portable vaporizer.  They vaporize the THC with heat rather than burning it, so it doesn’t cause a contact high for the driver.  I think it might be illegal, though.  I’m not sure.  Anyway, I went from the airport to the dispensary.  It took a lot longer than I was expecting.  They had me smell various types, and explained the difference between indica, sativa, and various hybrids.  There were several ways to ingest, and they showed me various tools and forms available.  I got flowers and some new thing that was recommended that’s supposed to be an improvement on a previous thing.  I was stoned beyond comprehending by that point.

One of the tenders was so hot.  Too young, though.  He looked to be about 22.  He had a ponytail.  I must finally be growing out of my attraction to a military buzzcut and a uniform.  This guy looked to me like a cross between a skater boi, a stoner, and a granola eater.  I need a skater boi, stoner who eats meat not just because he finds it delicious, but also out of spite to vegans who mention being vegan to people who aren’t on the verge of preparing them food, but still loves animals.  And reading.  And speculative fiction.  And computers.  And software development.  I’m so stoned that I just noticed I went from an excruciatingly long, run-on sentence, to a few really short sentences.  I’m amused by this, which is how I know I’m stoned.

I can’t feel the back of my head.  It’s a delightful feeling.  I haven’t stimmed since I got here.  I’m not shaking at all.  I wish I had my violin.  I think I’m going to sleep well tonight.  That alone makes this trip worth it.  I’m having such a good time so far.  Tomorrow I have to eat at a restaurant I haven’t been to before.  I hope they will make me grilled cheese.  Flying dehydrated me and my legs hurt from random charlie horses.  I know this is another reason I need to sleep well.  My body wants to heal from my last long run.  I’m going to try to sleep now.