Who else is going to share?

Has anyone noticed that I’m not really blogging much these days? I want to, I really do, but every time I open up a fresh document to start typing I feel a bit lost. I don’t know why this has happened, it just has. I have been feeling like this for a few months, I have been finding inspiration in my old posts. I’ve reposted old posts and added a few new poems but nothing I feel I will look back on and say, “Oh yes that was a turning point for me!”

Writing helps me

I will keep pushing through knowing that this will soon pass. I have been having no problems at all with writing in my prayer journal and reflective journal. Also I have shared many deep thoughts and inspirations privately with my closest friends. Its just blogging I’m struggling with. I seem to have lost the effort.

I thought maybe it was because I felt hurt

I have been struggling to comment on blogs because of fear. I have been blogging four year this year and other bloggers have not always been kind. Some have taken me wrong; they don’t know me or see my heart. I stopped commenting a while back and only comment on my friends blogs where I feel safe. Where I know they will protect me if I get taken wrongly or if I get bullied or verbally attacked.

I thought maybe it was time to call it a day and make my blog private. I even thought at one point of deactivating my blog; thank goodness I didn’t as all 667 posts I have shared would now no longer exist.

My not knowing loop is a big black hole

Some time ago my lovely friend Fi, from Wonderfully Wired wrote a post called “The Spinning Question Mark.” In this post was a beautiful conversation that she had with one of her little boys. Both of her sons are on the spectrum and reading about them helps me to remember. They are so very like me in their aspieness, especially *Harley!

In Fiona’s post *Harley speaks to his Mum about seeing in pictures. To me this is my normal; it was only four years ago that I realised that my way of thinking is different. He talks about his spinning question mark when he doesn’t understand something.

Here is small piece from Fi’s post.

So I thought I’d take it further.

“Harley, what do you see if I say the word ‘Volkswagen’? Do you see that same car again?”

“No”. He said. “I see an empty box with a big question mark over it spinning around and around because I don’t know what a Volkswagen is”.

Wow. I knew I was onto something so I dug deeper and asked him: “Do you see a spinning question mark a lot?”

He nodded. “Yes, every time someone says a word that I’ve never heard before. It is what I see when I don’t understand what the other person is talking about. I hate it when I see that question mark. I feel stupid and that’s why I sometimes get angry”

My thoughts that I shared.

My spinning question mark is a hole, a black hole like in space. And yep, when people all talk fast or over each other the pictures make no sense. Talking with one person at a time is so much easier. When in a group of people I can’t really listen and will zone out, daydream on a tangent thought triggered by an image.

I just thought everyone thought like this. It makes so much sense now I know they don’t. No wonder other women can chat like they do. It really fuzzes my head being in a group of women all talking at the same time, way too many pictures bumping into one another…hehe

I cope by either being the quiet onlooker, the one that looks shy and listens. You know me better than anyone Fi; you know I am not shy or quiet. Or, I can cope by being the loud one that doesn’t listen at all, the one with loads of ideas who is a bit bossy. This depends on my confidence level and who the people are.

The pictures are so strong they can stop me from eating. I tried to explain this to Mr Locoman the other day. I cooked a soup and couldn’t enjoy it without my soup spoon. It just didn’t seem to taste at all. I told him that all I could think of is my soup spoon because I am at home and when I am at home eating soup I need to eat it with my soup spoon. I did try a different spoon but the size was wrong and all I kept seeing was my spoon with the pretty engraved roses on it. As a kid I would have refused to eat. As an adult I try to fix things, I try to fix me. So many of my past experiences can be explained by understanding myself and how I tick. Understanding why I am different and why people have treated me the way they have.

I have hope that things will change

I believe that it is when NT parents and adult aspies combine their journeys that we will bring true awareness of Autism. I only know my spectrummy ways but having a friend like Fi (who is NT) helps me to understand the way others think. Also me helping her to see it through my aspie eyes has helped her to understand her boys, she told me so and that has got to be helpful…right?

So, why do I keep sharing?

I share because:

  • I have a head full of thoughts that might just help someone.
  • I have a life time of history on the spectrum.
  • I love all people even when they show very little love in return.
  • I hate the thought of any child going through school unnoticed.
  • I hate the thought of any child sitting thinking of space because of all the black holes in a day. Then being told they are stupid, ignorant, thick or a nuisance.
  • I hurt inside knowing that there are kids whose parents want them fixed.
  • I believe that maybe my life has a purpose and me sharing is a good thing.
  • I know that through fighting my fears I grow and I want to grow and learn.
  • I want people to understand that Autism doesn’t mean lacking empathy.
  • I have traits that are unnoticeable but every day I struggle, writing it out helps me.
  • In writing I have found connections, I no longer feel alone.
  • I have a need to communicate; most people are not interested in what I have to say.
  • I can’t always talk; sometimes I go for days without talking at all even though I want to. I share to release a build up of stored away expression.
  • I need an outlet and writing is very freeing for me.
  • Also…One day I won’t be around to tell my kids about this journey.

I share because it’s the right thing to do even when the fear of being me to the world keeps me awake at night. Even when I know there is a possibility of waking up and finding comments on my blog that are full of hate and manipulation. Even when I know that something I share might not be what someone close to me wants to read.

This is my journey and I will jolly well write about it.

I’m sick of hiding behind a mask, I’m sick of walking on egg shells. I will keep writing and I will probably get it wrong a few more times yet but I will not be sitting in a corner with my coat pulled over my head. That was me at school. I am not a child anymore, I have found my words and I will use my words. People need to know and little aspies can’t speak it out for themselves. I remember and I can write about it, it’s up to others if they want to read. Who else is going to help? Textbooks given to teachers and a few lectures is NOT enough in my opinion. I have lived it and my life is not worthless, it is worth sharing.

Who else is going to share?

perfectlove

Who else is going to share?

Hello my lovely Bloggy friends,

Has anyone noticed that I’m not really blogging much these days? I want to, I really do, but every time I open up a fresh document to start typing I feel a bit lost. I don’t know why this has happened, it just has. I have been feeling like this for a few months, I have been finding inspiration in my old posts. I’ve reposted old posts and added a few new poems but nothing I feel I will look back on and say, “Oh yes that was a turning point for me!”

Writing helps me

I will keep pushing through knowing that this will soon pass. I have been having no problems at all with writing in my prayer journal and reflective journal. Also I have shared many deep thoughts and inspirations privately with my closest friends. Its just blogging I’m struggling with. I seem to have lost the effort.

I thought maybe it was because I felt hurt

I have been struggling to comment on blogs because of fear. I have been blogging three year this year and other bloggers have not always been kind. Some have taken me wrong; they don’t know me or see my heart. I stopped commenting a while back and only comment on my friends blogs where I feel safe. Where I know they will protect me if I get taken wrongly or if I get bullied or verbally attacked.

I thought maybe it was time to call it a day and make my blog private. I even thought at one point of deactivating my blog; thank goodness I didn’t as all 653 posts I have shared would now no longer exist.

My not knowing loop is a big black hole

A few days ago my lovely friend Fi, from Wonderfully Wired, wrote a post called The Spinning Question Mark. In this post was a beautiful conversation that she had with one of her little boys. Both of her sons are on the spectrum and reading about them helps me to remember. They are so very like me in their aspieness, especially *Harley!

In THIS post *Harley speaks to his Mum about seeing in pictures. To me this is my normal; it was only three years ago that I realised that my way of thinking is different. He talks about his spinning question mark when he doesn’t understand something.

Here is small piece from Fi’s post but please go and read it, it’s one not to miss.

So I thought I’d take it further.

“Harley, what do you see if I say the word ‘Volkswagen’? Do you see that same car again?”

“No”. He said. “I see an empty box with a big question mark over it spinning around and around because I don’t know what a Volkswagen is”.

Wow. I knew I was onto something so I dug deeper and asked him: “Do you see a spinning question mark a lot?”

He nodded. “Yes, every time someone says a word that I’ve never heard before. It is what I see when I don’t understand what the other person is talking about. I hate it when I see that question mark. I feel stupid and that’s why I sometimes get angry”

Comments I left for my lovely friend Fi

My spinning question mark is a hole, a black hole like in space. And yep, when people all talk fast or over each other the pictures make no sense. Talking with one person at a time is so much easier. When in a group of people I can’t really listen and will zone out, daydream on a tangent thought triggered by an image.

I just thought everyone thought like this. It makes so much sense now I know they don’t. No wonder other women can chat like they do. It really fuzzes my head being in a group of women all talking at the same time, way too many pictures bumping into one another…hehe

I cope by either being the quiet onlooker, the one that looks shy and listens. You know me better than anyone Fi; you know I am not shy or quiet. Or, I can cope by being the loud one that doesn’t listen at all, the one with loads of ideas who is a bit bossy. This depends on my confidence level and who the people are.

The pictures are so strong they can stop me from eating. I tried to explain this to Mr Locoman the other day. I cooked a soup and couldn’t enjoy it without my soup spoon. It just didn’t seem to taste at all. I told him that all I could think of is my soup spoon because I am at home and when I am at home eating soup I need to eat it with my soup spoon. I did try a different spoon but the size was wrong and all I kept seeing was my spoon with the pretty engraved roses on it. As a kid I would have refused to eat. As an adult I try to fix things, I try to fix me. So many of my past experiences can be explained by understanding myself and how I tick. Understanding why I am different and why people have treated me the way they have.

I have hope that things will change

I believe that it is when NT parents and adult aspies combine their journeys that we will bring true awareness of Autism. I only know my spectrummy ways but having a friend like Fi (who is NT) helps me to understand the way others think. Also me helping her to see it through my aspie eyes has helped her to understand her boys, she told me so and that has got to be helpful…right?

So, why do I keep sharing?

I share because:

  • I have a head full of thoughts that might just help someone.
  • I have a life time of history on the spectrum.
  • I love all people even when they show very little love in return.
  • I hate the thought of any child going through school unnoticed.
  • I hate the thought of any child sitting thinking of space because of all the black holes in a day. Then being told they are stupid, ignorant, thick or a nuisance.
  • I hurt inside knowing that there are kids whose parents want them fixed.
  • I believe that maybe my life has a purpose and me sharing is a good thing.
  • I know that through fighting my fears I grow and I want to grow and learn.
  • I want people to understand that Autism doesn’t mean lacking empathy.
  • I have traits that are unnoticeable but every day I struggle, writing it out helps me.
  • In writing I have found connections, I no longer feel alone.
  • I have a need to communicate; most people are not interested in what I have to say.
  • I can’t always talk; sometimes I go for days without talking at all even though I want to. I share to release a build up of stored away expression.
  • I need an outlet and writing is very freeing for me.
  • Also…One day I won’t be around to tell my kids about this journey.

I share because it’s the right thing to do even when the fear of being me to the world keeps me awake at night. Even when I know there is a possibility of waking up and finding comments on my blog that are full of hate and manipulation. Even when I know that something I share might not be what someone close to me wants to read.

This is my journey and I will jolly well write about it.

I’m sick of hiding behind a mask, I’m sick of walking on egg shells. I will keep writing and I will probably get it wrong a few more times yet but I will not be sitting in a corner with my coat pulled over my head. That was me at school. I am not a child anymore, I have found my words and I will use my words. People need to know and little aspies can’t speak it out for themselves. I remember and I can write about it, it’s up to others if they want to read. Who else is going to help? Textbooks given to teachers and a few lectures is NOT enough in my opinion. I have lived it and my life is not worthless, it is worth sharing.

Who else is going to share?

perfectlove

Listen to the Raven

Sharp_Raven_wallpaper_by_LadyLuminalToday we saw a raven and I thought of Elijah. Then in conversation with a friend I mentioned ravens and God using them to feed His friend. I decided to read a post I wrote some time ago and it helped me today.

In 1 Kings 19. I believe there is some wonderful advice that I have in the past put into practice. It works for me. I need to start finding that special time for me again, to keep doing that which works well with my soul.

I have had many thoughts about Elijah and I have read this chapter quite a few times. This post is one I keep returning to because I keep forgetting to let God look after me.

I have an online Bible devotional come through that is a excellent place to start. There is reference to this as I share my thoughts on Elijah. However the devotional started with Mark 1:35

Jesus Prays in a Solitary Place

Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.

There are two guys I know

Both of them want to please God and both of them are emotional beings. They were created this way and God understands them. They have all the same feelings and hurts as us. They also have the same fears and anxieties too. The one guy I have written a poem about in the past I also painted a picture for him. He is always there when I hit the pit. He is so real to me, so open honest and transparent. His name is Jonah.

The other friend of mine, his named is Elijah

Elijah helps me to get through my worst meltdowns. God has been allowing past hurts to surface lately and things I never believed I would have to face are being healed. In prayer and through tears I feel me growing. God is so good!

Reading 1 kings 19 is a Godsend for me.

When I first got the email I felt totally drained. I really couldn’t be bothered to read it. But that Still Small Voice inside spoke and said, “Read it Lisa!” I said, “No, reading is too hard and I feel like crap!” Again the voice inside said, “Read it!” I struggled with this for a bit, but I know when God directs it is always for our good. His plans are to prosper not harm.

This is part of what I received and decided to follow.

In the Bible we see many who experienced times of burnout. After Jonah’s miraculous delivery from the big fish and prophetic announcement to the people on Nineveh, he sank into a depression and wanted to die (Jonah 4:3). After Elijah called down fire from heaven that miraculously burned up the sacrifices of Baal, the fire in his own life went dim (1 Kings 18-19). Elijah prayed, “I have had enough, LORD. Take my life,” (1 Kings 19:4). Both of these men wanted to quit.

How do we avoid those same feelings of burnout? The first step is to realize that it can happen and does happen to the best of us.

What was God’s response to Elijah?

Let’s take a look at 1 Kings Chapter 19.

  • He allowed Elijah to sleep. (19:5) – rest
  • He sent an angel to provide food for him to eat. (19:5) –  refreshment
  • He allowed Elijah to sleep again. (19:6) – more rest
  • He sent an angel to provide food for him to eat again. (19:7) – more refreshment
  • He caused Elijah to ponder what he was doing. “What are you doing here?” (19:9) – reflection
  • He spoke to Elijah personally. (19:11) – response
  • He caused Elijah to ponder what he was doing, again. “What are you doing here?” (19:13) – reflection
  • He told Elijah what to do next. (19:15) – redirection
  • He showed Elijah who He had appointed to help him. (19:16) – reinforcement

Rest

Refreshment

Rest

Refreshment

Reflection

Response

Reflection

Redirection

Reinforcement

Burnout happens when I focus on people and fitting in.

That includes me thinking too much about myself too.

“You can’t see yourself “in yourself,”

you have to learn to see yourself in Christ.”

~A Joyce Meyer’s fb status.

There was a reason why Jesus went off to solitary places to pray.

If Jesus had to do it maybe I should be more willing to do it too. My shutdowns are not such a bad thing if I give them to God at the foot of the cross. But I do believe that if I was more ready to listen, I wouldn’t overload myself in the first place.

Love and hugs.

Lisa. xx 🙂

Dear Doctor, did you know? (ASD)

Written in a note book

I found it in my bottom draw, a letter that I wrote to myself quite a few years ago. It was from when I first started to realise that I have Aspergers Syndrome. I had gone to see my doctor and had not been treated very well. The doctor had laughed in my face and said things that made me feel really stupid. I had not long lost my Mom, I needed help, so this hurt me intensely and delayed my understanding of self and my acceptance of me for an added 6 years. I still struggle to visit any doctor even all these years later. I only go when I really need to.

My Mom was the person who helped me make sense of this world

I really needed her with me as I walked into the surgery. My head looping with rehearsed words and I felt so alone in what I was facing. My Dad has classic Autism; he is practically non-verbal outside of the home. He has basic understanding but not enough for me to have turned to him for comfort. I had no friends and no-one who could understand how I was feeling. So I wrote down what I needed to say. This was before I had any professional counselling, and before I started to keep a reflective journal. I just felt a need to write. I had forgotten all about this letter and the poem. Funny how you find things when you need to. It’s what I like to call a God-incident.

My poem come to me at the end of the letter, I posted the poem when I first started blogging. Before I could open up about me all I posted was my poems. I thought I would share my poem in the context it was written in. At the end of the letter where it is supposed to be. That is where it truly belongs.

The letter,

My Trip to the doctors.

Walking out of the Doctors I felt half an inch tall. I wanted my Mom; I felt 12 years old again. Within 10 minutes that woman had undermined every conversation practised in my head. Every piece of information I had gathered on Aspergers Syndrome became locked away, un-retrievable.

I was no longer the Lisa I had practised so hard to become; I was a school girl again. While she went on, I returned to my dreamland only this one was with my Mom. This Doctor would not be talking to me like this if my Mom was here. Yes it’s true my Mom would have stopped her dead in her tracks and put her right in her place. But I’m alone now and Mom isn’t here to protect me anymore. Since she died all I can do is keep hiding, no-one understands.

Well I hope that doctor is proud of herself. She bullied me right back to looking at the floor. I couldn’t look at her; I just kept my head down. I ended up biting my lips and rubbing my face. Just answering her with yes and no. My breathing changed and I just wanted to get out of there.

I hate the way people treat me like this. Did she not realise how hard it was for me to get into that room in the first place. I had rehearsed what I needed to say, I felt quite confident about it and then she ripped me apart. My only defence was inside myself, back inside my shell where I have spent my whole life. I should have taken someone with me, what was I thinking. Someone who could have spoken as soon as I clammed up. I have been different though since having my kids, I do speak up and defend them. But this was for me, not my kids, and I don’t defend myself. I act different when it’s for me.

Ok it’s all over now, as soon as I became hostile towards her she wanted me out and said she would refer me. I hate it when I get angry, why can’t people be nicer to me so I don’t feel so threatened.

But…I’m the one up at 3:15 in the morning, writing this out, trying to deal with my feelings. I feel so hurt, embarrassed, frustrated and angry. I bet she’s asleep in her bed, she probably doesn’t even remember my name. I should have refused to see her, I made an appointment with the nice doctor, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

My confidence left me as soon as I walked through the door and saw how she looked at me. She stripped away all the progress I had made in less than 10 minutes. It is so hard to be part of this world when most of the people here are like her. I prefer my bubble it is safe.

Alienation

by Alienhippy

Inside this shell are two,

Who I am, and the one who speaks to you.

I’m so confident, intelligent inside,

But when I speak that person will hide.

~

The frustration and anger is sealed,

When who I really am, is never revealed.

The humiliation and fear I keep,

It’s locked away inside so deep.

~

I practise how to talk, what to say.

It all comes out wrong on the day.

I come crushing down like a ton of rubble,

I think I’ll stay safe here in my bubble.

~

This planet all seems so wrong,

There must be another place where I belong.

I try to be like them………. but I’m not

Perhaps like E.T. I’m the one they forgot.

~

So……..I’ll sit and reflect as the world goes by.

Breathe in and swallow yet another sigh.

There’s not a lot that I can do,

Because normal to me, is not being like you.

**************************************************

NOTE: This is part of a post written back in November 2010. The letter was written shortly after my Mom’s death (2004) and my Dad’s diagnoses of Autism and low IQ.

I am revisiting my old posts because it is showing me how much writing has helped me.

I am still struggling to write on my blogs.

This post explains why, “Autism Awareness or up on a soap box”

Love and hugs friends. Lisa. xx

Oldies are the besties

I have been having difficulty writing posts after reading some not very nice comments about bloggers and their writing styles. At the time I thought I was ok, but it has been looping in my head for nearly two weeks now and I can’t seem to be able to shift it. Some people can be so hurtful with their opinions. Writing is something I used to find release in, a way of me processing and feeling I would connect with those like me, those with similar struggles. Over the last few days I have found myself struggling to even share on my facebook.

I helped myself today by re-reading a few oldies

I need to go back to “Just Being Me!”

My blog is, “A place where I can be me!”

Trying to remember…

I am Aspie-happy.

I’m a multi coloured rainbow.

I turn negativity upside-down.

It’s not just about

“Me and my loops”

Or my supermarket Shutdowns/Meltdowns

It’s about Coping…finding new ways forward

Discovering those Lightening jumps and connections

Having those moments of recognition and true friendship

Yes, I’m the queen of the loops, but I “Listen through the Loops”

There maybe a LOT of “Missing Jigsaws & Excess Lego”

Change is good when God prompts it

So, Hello my lovely Bloggy friends

Yes, this post is full of links and each one of them is a post about me struggling, persevering and overcoming. It’s about how I live and find ways to not be affected by a world that pushes for conformity. Where society makes me feel so different. My acceptance of being different but not less, feeling like an alien on the wrong planet but making it work for me the best I can. Learning to rise above the storm and say, “Bog off frantic thought loop!”

The following post is an oldie that made me giggle today,

It’s one I had totally forgotten about but it helped me to find me again. I tend not to take myself too seriously, and I like to see people smile. So here have a giggle on me. I’m processing as I write and I think I’m on my way back.

Love and hugs. xx 🙂

Just a babble and a giggle! (Embarrassing moments)

image found on Google

~

Hello friends out in bloggyland,

~

I just got back from dropping my *AJ off at his girlfriends.

I do love our little chats in the car we have such a giggle.

~

*AJ talked about a misplaced face.

The Aspies in my family do this all the time, we know faces from places.

Put them in a different place and we haven’t got a clue who they are.

Quite a few years back

Before I’d ever heard the word Aspergers, I bumped into a neighbour in a petrol station and she chatted with me for quite some time before she asked me if I was ok. I was completely confused to who she was and how she knew me. I was in my early 20’s and wasn’t as good at smiling and nodding as I am now.

It’s funny because I saw this neighbour at a social gathering I was dreading going to and she remembered this incident and I was able to explain to her. Only 20 years later…hehehe

Well me and *AJ then went onto EMBARRASSING MOMENTS

So as I LOVE to babble and I don’t really worry too much what I babble about, I thought I’d share probably the worst and MOST embarrassing moment of my adult years…In other words the most recent one.

If you follow my blog

You will remember a post I wrote about collecting and the emotions of parting with things of sentimental value.

You will remember the hurt I went through when the extension was built on my home and I had to part with the unopened boxes.

Those boxes full of memories.

As an Aspie I connect strongly to my emotions, thoughts and feelings when I touch things.

It triggers off the replays in my head and I can almost feel back in the time I would like to be in.

I LOVE being a Mom, it’s something I dreamed of

So parting with certain baby items was extremely hard for me, well the building work meant I had to clear out the loft space.

So here we go, my most recent embarrassing moment.

I never learn where speaking is concerned, I constantly get things wrong.

On my less confident days I don’t speak a word, but I think LOADS and LOADS.

On my confident days…..well, I tend to say what I think, I get myself into terrible pickles with this.

On this particular day I had revved myself up to doing something I REALLY didn’t want to do.

I was taking *CAL’s travel cot to the charity shop.

I had loads of bags and boxes of things that I was fine about taking.

The travel cot however, was NOT one of them.

I stood it up the side of the car while I put everything else in, and then when I looked up a young couple was walking towards me holding hands.

I thought perfect I can help them out, this travel cot has hardly been used.

I got so excited, I so love helping people,

I thought to myself…God has REALLY helped me here.

“Excuse me love, say no if you don’t want it…but it’s hardly been used,

would you like this travel cot?”

She said…“WHAT?!” and screwed her face up at me.

So me being the plonker I am… repeated myself,

“It’s hardly been used, would you like it…I’m just about to take it to the charity shop?”

Then she says…“Why would you think I want a travel cot?”

Yes I actually DID say this…

“Well, because you’re having a baby aren’t you? You look about 6 months pregnant!”

I’m laughing my head off now writing this, but at the time I thought she was going to kill me.

So there you have it, my most recent embarrassing moment.

Also I learnt a very valuable lesson.

…….Assumption is the mother of all cock ups Lisa!

My 15 year old self (Repost)

Hello my lovely Bloggy friends,

I was reminded of a post I wrote back in October 2010. I wasn’t going to repost it but it just won’t leave my head. I wrote this post while having counselling. I was still processing my realisation of being an Aspie and how not knowing why I felt so different as a child had hurt me so badly.

I am only sharing this because usually when something is looping in my head there is a reason for it. Also it will keep looping unless I do share it. 🙂

Love and hugs.

Lisa. xx 🙂

Alienhippy age 15

This photo was taken at a family party when I was 15. I wanted to go home, no-one was speaking to me and I felt really alone. The music was NOT to my liking and was actually hurting my head. My brother took the photo, I was not aware he had taken it. He had a thing for photography.

I have decided to do something different today.

I was thinking about my Teen years and how hard they were. Trying to fit in with everyone else but constantly feeling like no-one liked me.

I learnt how to giggle when the other girls did, even if I didn’t know what I was giggling about. I learnt how to not be noticed. I also learnt that if I hung around with the bullies, I sort of had protection. I was their look out and a source of cigarette money.

At least I felt I belonged though…..to a degree!

School was a nightmare, I had stomach problems every Monday morning at the thought of another week there. I couldn’t read and that was a wonderful opportunity for everyone to taunt .

The subjects I was good at, I wasn’t allowed to take as my options. I had constant board rubbers and bits of chalk thrown at my head for daydreaming.

The only time I was happy at school was in my Art lessons, where I had a wonderful Teacher, who allowed me to be me. Shame I only got 2 hours of Art a week.

At the age of 11, I started to isolate myself in my bedroom. I was happy most of the time at home but my bedroom became my comfort zone. I spent far too long on my own, thinking back now. I had far too much time to think and obsess and hurt myself in many ways.

I couldn’t express how I felt and I couldn’t lose myself in a book, like my friend did. I spent a lot of time sewing and listening to music.

So…. I revisited 1985 in prayer today and tapped into my 15 year old self, and we wrote a poem.

My 15 year old self

by Alienhippy

I wish I knew just what goes on

In a neurotypical mind

‘Cause my mind goes at sonic speed

But answers I seldom find

To all my many questions

They seem to bother me

And…all the different social rules

I never seem to see

The faces they all seem to change

A smile can be confusing

When I smile back I get a glare

It’s only ‘ME’ they’re abusing

Look at the floor that way I’m safe

From all the angry eyes

I miss so much by trying to hide

But at least it stops my cries

The pain is brief, I’m given relief

Isolation takes it’s hold

Sat in my room all alone

Feeling safe but growing cold

It’s so easy to take me apart!

wonderfullywired.wordpress.com

Hello my lovely Bloggy friends,

Wonderfully Wired is what I’m learning to see

My wonderful friend Fi helps me so much with this. How? It’s so very simple really….she loves and accepts me for me! She accepts my quirky ways and doesn’t put unrealistic expectations on our friendship. She also prays for me and my family. This is something I have never had in a friendship before, but it is something I have always prayed for.

In my last post I said I’d been inspired by one of the photos Fi had sent to me. So I’m going to share some thoughts I had about it.

Let’s talk about an Autistic trait of mine…

Analysis

Analysis is the process of breaking a complex topic or substance into smaller parts to gain a better understanding of it. The technique has been applied in the study of mathematics and logic since before Aristotle (384–322 B.C.), though analysis as a formal concept is a relatively recent development.

The word is a transcription of the ancient Greek ἀνάλυσις

(analusis, “a breaking up”, from ana- “up, throughout” and lysis “a loosening”)

Taken from Wikipedia

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Taking things apart is something a lot of ASD kids do

Not just kids though adults do it as well, I really enjoy taking things apart it’s like an adventure into another world. It’s a time of discovery and learning in my own way and in my own time. Not too long ago I took an old computer apart, just for fun, and collected all the pieces that I know I can use in a sculpture one day, when I get the time that is…. 🙂

When I’m taking something apart I can see how it all works. I can imagine rebuilding it in new ways. My brain just comes alive and I don’t notice anything else around me. Or anybody actually…I get lost in there, in the WHOLE process of it. AND….it’s so very lovely. 🙂

Putting things together is different

Why?

Instructions…expectations…a feeling of failure and disappointment.

Confusion, complications and always someone telling you you’re doing it all wrong.

I do love solving puzzles though, I just like to do it on my own with no help at all, away from everyone.

Having someone around “hovering” while I am building/making/solving something is very distracting. I have my own way of doing things, but because of how people have been in my past, I’m used to feeling like I do things wrong all the time. So having someone watching me build something (like a flatpack) while trying to follow instructions, actually throws my brain into meltdown mode.

I can keep this in for quite a while now, but as a kid the model, puzzle or board game would get kicked into the air or thrown across the room. I would then stamp off in a vile mood to a safe place, this made me feel guilty and wrong. I would then get REALLY told off for having a “temper tantrum” Yes…that’s what happens unfortunately when you are high functioning or undiagnosed. People have expectations of how you should be, because who you really are is unseen.

The invisible disability…“The invisible people”

Your intelligence in other things is noticed but your behaviour with so called simple things is unrecognised as a difficulty. This caused me a lot of confusion as a child. I felt so clever with some things and so stupid with others.

As a child I had no control over my reactions, my body acted in a way to protect me. I learned as I got older but I also learned to internalise TOO MUCH! I became far too quiet. Even the things I was good at, the things I had gifts with were no-longer enjoyable, I felt I did everything wrong.

Creating is different

With creativity it’s like building something while taking it apart. It gives me both! I see something being built/made/created but also feel the adventure of seeking and discovering. There are no rules in creativity, no instructions, no right or wrong way of doing (or there shouldn’t be)

School changes this, they place rules on the arts, they tech techniques and place expectations. I was always very good at art at school, but on my bad days I couldn’t meet the goals of my teachers.

Lisa is a quiet child with a lot of talent, she is naturally gifted in art, however she needs to try harder. She tends to drift off into daydreams and not finish the work set for her.

(one of my teachers)

I love this quote by Pablo Picasso

“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.”

It’s so easy to take me apart!

With God’s love I am learning to put me back together.

God’s creativity flows through everything and also through everyone who lets Him in. I’m learning to use my Wonderfully Wired mind to see through my Aspie eyes. True creativity comes NOT from learning techniques and reading from books but from within, from who we are created to be. Creativity and expression are a scary thing to share, but it is also very healing when we do. I have always naturally wanted to learn about the things I love doing, the things I am interested in. My Aspie mind needs to feed on information, when I am interested in something it’s all I can think about.

Fi’s Blog title is…

Wonderfully Wired “Created to be remarkable…”

Created to be remarkable…I see this in my kids and Fi sees it in her kids.

“Different, but not less.” Those of us with spectrummy kids all see this and want everyone else to see it too! It’s not easy being a Mom to kids on the spectrum, not for NT or Aspie Moms. Our kids are unique and wonderful creations. They are blessings from God that we feel a need to protect. We see their quirkiness and we love it. The world however….well, let’s not go there!

As parents to kids with quirks we see its affect every day!

We already know how some people mock that which they are ignorant about, that which they refuse to try to understand.

Bringing awareness to the needs of those on the Spectrum is so very important.

Without people sharing what it’s like there will always be people who tear Aspies/Auties apart.

There will always be the bullies, the manipulators and the abusers. But through sharing our journeys we are building a path for others to walk on. We are making a safe place for others to share. We are telling our stories in the hope that things will change.

I love blogging….. WHY?

Because God has given me a way of taking me apart and building me back up, in a group of loving and accepting friends. In a little community I like to call Bloggyland.

“A place where I can be me!”

Love and hugs friends.

Lisa. xx 🙂

1 Thessalonians 5:11 (The Message)

So speak encouraging words to one another. Build up hope so you’ll all be together in this, no one left out, no one left behind.

I know you’re already doing this; just keep on doing it.