Do you remember?

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Do you remember?

Before the big bloggers, the sponsors, the adverts and the competitive edge of Pinterest perfectionism there was a community of friendly bloggers. It was a place where we found connection with others who were walking a similar path to our own. It was a place we could find friendship with people who had similar interests, and it was a place where there weren’t any trolls. Sitting down to write a post was as easy as writing an email to a friend.

I miss those days. I miss those bloggers.

Yesterday I was reminded of just how much I loved the blogosphere when a friend/author and fellow blogger posted me this link of a list from 2012.

21 Exceptionally Valuable Asperger’s Sites

I’m on that list, I’m number 7. 🙂
When seeing the list I actually cried and struggled to process. A lot of my Autism blogger friends no longer write and who I was, how I wrote back in 2012 holds a special place in my heart that I miss deeply. I also felt that I have let slip away a special interest and the joy of writing because of worrying too much about what other people think of me.

I got a message from a lady I met last week, her message was just what I needed to read. The message said, ” Thank you Lisa, I’ve learnt so much about myself from you xXx” (This was from a lady who suspects she has Aspergers.)

It made me think a lot, it made me ponder to why I had stopped writing and it made me feel deeply for other females undiagnosed in their 40’s who are still trying to find a way to fit. Then I went to find one of my most helpful posts that I read a lot when I struggle to remember why I feel so alien and why I constantly get so hurt.

I’m not ashamed of my Aspie traits.
Knowing I have Aspergers answers all the questions that have bogged my life. It’s just that it’s a lot easier to pretend to be NT and hide my feelings so no one else can hurt me. I can’t help but feel that hiding isn’t the answer and that I can push past the fear if I press into my faith.

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

This is who I am…

(Post from 2012)

SPD,EFD,OCD & all that jazz!

I paced around my house this morning, talking to myself. Motivating myself to actually sit at my pc and write. I know when I need to write because I can find a thousand other creative things to do with my hands but my mind keeps speaking and looping on the words.

Writing for me is part of my process, a part of my healing from past hurts. It is also a way for me to move forward. Writing is my deliverer from

EFD (Executive Function Disorder)

SPD (Sensory Processing Disorder)

OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder)

All these “disorders” but still I keep going!

I have found my own way, it takes me longer and I might seem to get stuck at times or repeat myself, but I will get there eventually. What my brain cannot execute in the neurotypical way, my reflective reviews, journaling, ANT’s charts and blogging will help me sort through the fluff and confusion. I find the backbone, the root and the will.

Writing helps me to find my confidence in a world where I am constantly trying to learn an ever changing language. Favoured items are static they are easy to comprehend and automatically will gain trust and care. Animals can be studied and act in a predictable way most of the time with a need for self care. People are constantly changing they are unpredictable and fascinating. Change can cause me major insecurity, anxiety and even paranoia when I am not focused on helping myself but allowing myself to just drift along.

Sharing is like my accountability, it’s like me opening up a covenant I make with myself. In my openness and honesty I can no-longer keep making excuses and finding ways out.

A way out of what?

Honestly…I’m still coming to terms with not being able to fit!

That’s right, I’m still coming to terms with not being able to fit! It is so much easier to take my stroppy teenage view and think that people are just plan nasty. But I don’t believe they are, I know that there are a lot of lovely people in this world. Growing up undiagnosed without any early intervention has caused me deep scars. I will not let my past define who I am today, or who I am growing into tomorrow.

I document me because my process might help another

I went to see a psychologist a few weeks ago and the main thing I took away from this meeting was how deeply I hurt from always feeling socially isolated. Growing up always being the onlooker that would have loved to have had just one true friend. To have always been seeking deep and loyal friendship but never understood why I got left out. I now have to fight the mental scar of never really feeling that I am acceptable.

I have wonderful online friendships

They are with the most beautiful and loving people and I am so very grateful for each and every one of them. However in my everyday life I have surface level acquaintanceships where I can never really be myself. I still wear the mask.

I know how to look like I fit

I can look like I fit that well no-one even notices how much I am struggling. I found my own way of hiding in the mass, I’m the quiet observer that speaks when spoken to. I have lots of personas I can use for different environments. They are all so very well rehearsed within the loops and replays predicted in my mind. When in unfamiliar circumstances I pass as shy with a touch of eccentric, but that is not who I truly am. Truth being told being part of the social norm means I am forever treading water, swimming against the current, feeling out of my depth and it is so mentally draining and such bloody hard work.

My shutdowns have become a place of comfort

Within a shutdown I can block out everything, everyone and every thought. I know in this place that I can also block out me as I take a step away.

Over the years I have learned to switch off me so that I can focus on others and show the empathy, sympathy that I have been told I don’t understand. I have learned to take on another’s pain and carry it inside as to not be uncaring. SPD makes sure I feel it too. I didn’t realise that for most people it doesn’t physically hurt when they cry. I didn’t cry for many years when I shut out and shutdown to people. I can understand feelings, I have my understanding of empathy and I feel pain for others within me. I have always understood and I have always felt but I had to learn to show and express in the appropriate way. I have learned to show social kindness to others by being unkind to me.

I can forget to switch me back on

I then lose myself in the maze of life and the passion of people puzzles. My brain loves puzzles, my brain loves finding answers, my heart wants to love and feel loved. People are not puzzles and trying to help is not always what is needed. This is not logical in my mind but I learned to not speak and just to show a certain facial expression I learned from watching my Mom.

I get so busy pleasing others, being who I think they want me to be, that I simply forget to be me. I need to remember to find grounding. I need to remember to return to self. I need to remember that I am worth knowing. I need to remember that I am a unique and loving individual. I need to remember to find my safe place. My Mom was my safe place and without her I can feel very lost. I can find comfort and safety within my faith most of the time. I can also find my safe place when I find me again within my special interests.

What stops me?

I’m still coming to terms with being a dyslexic aspergic geek!

So this is my next step

I need to let the geek out, I need to let me be me.

Face to face female friendships are so socially confusing for me. My geeky intensity and passion for interest is avoided by most NT women. I totally get this and that’s why I don’t let me out very often. When I do I have a wonderful time just being myself.

Let’s face fact though, Aspie women are good at hiding, we are excellent actresses. We learn how to fit or not be seen. When we do get real and some polite person chats and makes us feel accepted, we get excited and forget to hold back a little, we think we have found a friend and can’t wait to see them again. Then we are avoided and the pain we feel from rejection brings back every foul memory from every negative loop we have.

We don’t do the chit chat well. We tend to be too honest and open. We take the conversation to a level that stimulates our own mind without realising we make others uncomfortable. I mean who really wants to get deep and intense about …(insert your own special interests here)… writing, poetry, art, spirituality, ASD’s, animals, fishes, quotes, images, blogging, fantasy and trees.

I find companionship within the blogosphere and I LOVE it

One thing I don’t have is face to face communication with like minded friends.

For any future friends this is who I am.

  • I need to feel accepted and loved for just being me.
  • I need friends who understand I can’t always maintain eye contact but it doesn’t mean I’m not interested.
  • I sometimes need to be intense, it’s how my mind stays focused.
  • I will drift off into daydreams and tangent thoughts but it doesn’t mean I’m not listening.
  • I sometimes just need to be quiet and I need you to be quiet with me while I think.
  • Just because I stop talking doesn’t mean I have finished expressing.
  • I want to be a good friend, I will think of your needs more than my own at times which can make me somewhat annoying.
  • I can get very insecure and feel my ways have hurt you, I fear rejection so I over compensate by being too open and over loving.
  • I am honest and I care deeply
  • I look for what is good in a person but I can be rather naive and gullible.
  • I can be very silly and giggley at times, in these times I may seem insensitive to your needs so I need you to tell me if you need me to be sensible.
  • I won’t just pick up on your feelings by looking at your face.
  • I need to be able to trust, without trust I can’t function within friendship.

I know that God will help me find a way forward. I’m just sharing as I process.

Love and hugs. xx 🙂

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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

I started to lose myself again

THIS IS ME

THIS IS ME

What have I learnt about myself?

I am more than loyal, I give my heart. I feel deeply and I hurt intensely. I give above and beyond what most people expect, what most people are used to. I give my all and I wear my heart on my sleeve. People can’t always cope with who I am, I think that who I am is probably challenging, but I don’t know how to be any other way. A lot of people avoid me. Maybe they like to stay hidden? I don’t know, I don’t pretend to understand. I just know it hurts.

I know that I once viewed life through a mask, never showing who I truly am, it was so very lonely. I kept a piece of me locked away because I could no longer trust, I had been hurt more than I could process so I stopped trying to.

Maybe this is why people run and avoid me, they trusted once and now fear the worst. Perhaps they can’t see that I am real, that who I am is open and honest. I love, I have love in me to share and only want to give love and feel loved. I trust in my God and in those that He has shown to me. I am blessed in the few close friendships I have. I don’t ever need to hide who I am from those who truly love me.

What have I learnt about others?

People will be who they can be, I don’t have to like the way they act, just love and accept them for who they are and where they are at. We are all on a journey. Some people are not nice, I have to accept this and keep myself safe. I don’t have to be their friend, they only ever do what is best for them. These people are the ones who will use me, they have ulterior motives and I can’t always see this until it’s too late. They become my friend for what I can do for them, what they can get off me, out of me. I’m starting to recognise the signs a lot quicker these days. I can be too nice for my own good at times.

Then there are people like me, there are not so many as what there seems to be selfish people, but they are out there. A lot of good people are in hiding, they hide because they too have been extremely hurt. I know because I have found some of them. When we connected it felt like we had already met, that we were destined to meet. Within these relationships I see a glimpse of what God calls friendship. A little piece of heaven in the smiles of compassionate and loving souls.

What do I need to do different?

I need to be MORE myself! I need to be me to the max! I need to not imitate or follow the crowd, crowds are not good for me anyway. I get lost in the crowd and no one ever sees or hears me. I do much better one to one. I need to accept I have a fear of loss and change, but it’s ok most people do it’s not just an aspie thing. Also remember that when these things come it makes room for new adventure.

But people move on and I don’t like change. I’m aspie, what aspie does truly like change? I will survive and I will look back and see just how much I grew through it. I can always set myself new goals, I can always dream new dreams. I will keep growing I have God on my side and He will always love me just the way I am. He will never leave me.

What do I need to practise?

I need to set myself clear boundaries and keep sticking to them.

I need to plan projects, things I am good at, and make them happen.

I need to have a routine that helps me, stop making excuses.

Don’t let other people control my time, time is precious.

I need to love me and see that I am worth loving.

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

“Silhouette”

Lyrics by Owl City

I’m tired of waking up in tears
‘Cause I can’t put to bed these phobias and fears
I’m new to this grief I can’t explain
But I’m no stranger to the heartache and the pain

The fire I began is burning me alive
But I know better than to leave and let it die

I’m a silhouette asking every now and then
“Is it over yet? Will I ever feel again?”
I’m a silhouette chasing rainbows on my own
But the more I try to move on, the more I feel alone
So I watch the summer stars to lead me home

I’m sick of the past I can’t erase
A jumble of footprints and hasty steps I can’t retrace
The mountain of things I still regret
Is a vile reminder that I would rather just forget (no matter where I go)

The fire I began is burning me alive
But I know better than to leave and let it die

I’m a silhouette asking every now and then (now and then)
“Is it over yet? Will I ever smile again?”
I’m a silhouette chasing rainbows on my own
But the more I try to move on, the more I feel alone
So I watch the summer stars to lead me home

‘Cause I walk alone
No matter where I go
‘Cause I walk alone
No matter where I go
‘Cause I walk alone
No matter where I go

I’m a silhouette asking every now and then (now and then)
“Is it over yet? Will I ever love again?”
I’m a silhouette chasing rainbows on my own
But the more I try to move on, the more I feel alone
So I watch the summer stars to lead me home

I watch the summer stars to lead me home.

 

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

ASD, who do you see?

I still feel at a loss for words

Everything I am seeing and hearing in the autism community is too much. I have shared before that when negativity hits me I can’t switch off my brain and this is not good for me or my family. My way of coping is to retreat. A lot of over sensitive aspies/auties are all doing the same, afraid of our own words and saying things wrong, we focus on what keeps us functioning and happy. This I feel can make us look like we don’t feel, for me this is so untrue, I feel intensely. It’s not that we don’t care it’s that we can’t process what we are experiencing at this time. Our thoughts are with the families of those who died in the event of last week, but also the negativity that has been irresponsibly placed on who we are. We spend our lives trying to understand why we feel so different, why we feel so isolated. Then we start to understand why and claim our place on the spectrum. It’s hard to tell people because so many refuse to acknowledge it or even accept what we are saying. This week has hit quite a few of us extremely hard on so many levels. Some of us have kids and the visuals of this haunts our loops, and we can’t switch off our loops no matter how hard we try.

I wrote a post some time ago, my reflections on Autism and Empathy an explanation as to why a 10 year child would give all her toys away. I had no choice I wanted to help and in my mind I solved a puzzle, a problem that hurt me deeply. My toys would save the lives of little children, so I gave them all away. I know who I am and Aspergers is part of who I am, who do you see when you read me?

I can’t find a way to express any better my feelings of what has happened than with my own words from that old post.

ASD’s and Empathy?

I know that over the years I have had to shut down to my feelings because they are so intense. I can get so overwhelmed by emotion that I can barely function. I know that when I love a person they become as important as myself. My children are more important and I would die for them.

Because I have visual reruns of things that either hurt me or confuse me, I end up rehearsing and chatting and analysing, this can be quite tiring. I will have so many conversations going around in my head. I have managed to stay in touch with my feelings, emotions and show empathy by being careful what I feed my brain with. Being careful not to overload myself. I know now what will replay in my constant thought loops and which things to avoid. I can also praise up the less noisy loops and help myself to do the things that are hard to do.

I think that the lack of empathy thing is just a shut down mechanism of self protection because emotion is so intense…it will overload the system and cause sensory difficulties and eventually complete shutdown. But this is just a whole load of Lisa Lingo from my babbling thought loops.

No mentions here

I am only linking this post to ASD and Empathy. I do not want search engines hitting my blog with people seeking out ridiculous Google searches. We all know what I am writing about so I am not going to even write the words. Instead I offer prayers to those grieving the loss of loved ones and I share a poem for all children everywhere, those on the spectrum and those who are just a little different. Also all those who are childlike in mind or heart who cannot comprehend the pain, confusion and fear that this tragedy has brought.

 As a child

by Alienhippy

As a child I would call to you, I knew you were always there

I had the words and a way to speak, I understood you’d always care

But as I grew the words got lost, the light then left my eyes

So at the floor I downward looked, I put on a masked disguise

˜

I tried so hard to live like this, to fit and not be seen

A daily battle to wear a smile, in my mind I still had the dream

That one day you’d come and sort me out, and make my life make sense

You’d take away the pain I carry, freeing me from feeling so tense

˜

So you called to me when I was hiding, by this time I didn’t even care

But you pursued and did not give up, knowing I’d meet you there

You took my hand and gently guided, you understood that I was weak

You walked the path and checked the way, giving me the heart to seek

˜

You showed me love when I was alone, and filled my life with hope

Explained the way that I’ve been made, you now teach me to cope

You are my friend you are my Lord, and Autism is part of me

You really love me “JUST AS I AM!” so now I can just be free

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

SPD,EFD,OCD & all that jazz!

I paced around my house this morning, talking to myself. Motivating myself to actually sit at my pc and write. I know when I need to write because I can find a thousand other creative things to do with my hands but my mind keeps speaking and looping on the words.

Writing for me is part of my process, a part of my healing from past hurts. It is also a way for me to move forward. Writing is my deliverer from

EFD (Executive Function Disorder)

SPD (Sensory Processing Disorder)

OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder)

All these “disorders” but still I keep going!

I have found my own way, it takes me longer and I might seem to get stuck at times or repeat myself, but I will get there eventually. What my brain cannot execute in the neurotypical way, my reflective reviews, journaling, ANT’s charts and blogging will help me sort through the fluff and confusion. I find the backbone, the root and the will.

Writing helps me to find my confidence in a world where I am constantly trying to learn an ever changing language. Favoured items are static they are easy to comprehend and automatically will gain trust and care. Animals can be studied and act in a predictable way most of the time with a need for self care. People are constantly changing they are unpredictable and fascinating. Change can cause me major insecurity, anxiety and even paranoia when I am not focused on helping myself but allowing myself to just drift along.

Sharing is like my accountability, it’s like me opening up a covenant I make with myself. In my openness and honesty I can no-longer keep making excuses and finding ways out.

A way out of what?

Honestly…I’m still coming to terms with not being able to fit!

That’s right, I’m still coming to terms with not being able to fit! It is so much easier to take my stroppy teenage view and think that people are just plan nasty. But I don’t believe they are, I know that there are a lot of lovely people in this world. Growing up undiagnosed without any early intervention has caused me deep scars. I will not let my past define who I am today, or who I am growing into tomorrow.

I document me because my process might help another

I went to see a psychologist a few weeks ago and the main thing I took away from this meeting was how deeply I hurt from always feeling socially isolated. Growing up always being the onlooker that would have loved to have had just one true friend. To have always been seeking deep and loyal friendship but never understood why I got left out. I now have to fight the mental scar of never really feeling that I am acceptable.

I have wonderful online friendships

They are with the most beautiful and loving people and I am so very grateful for each and every one of them. However in my everyday life I have surface level acquaintanceships where I can never really be myself. I still wear the mask.

I know how to look like I fit

I can look like I fit that well no-one even notices how much I am struggling. I found my own way of hiding in the mass, I’m the quiet observer that speaks when spoken to. I have lots of personas I can use for different environments. They are all so very well rehearsed within the loops and replays predicted in my mind. When in unfamiliar circumstances I pass as shy with a touch of eccentric, but that is not who I truly am. Truth being told being part of the social norm means I am forever treading water, swimming against the current, feeling out of my depth and it is so mentally draining and such bloody hard work.

My shutdowns have become a place of comfort

Within a shutdown I can block out everything, everyone and every thought. I know in this place that I can also block out me as I take a step away.

Over the years I have learned to switch off me so that I can focus on others and show the empathy, sympathy that I have been told I don’t understand. I have learned to take on another’s pain and carry it inside as to not be uncaring. SPD makes sure I feel it too. I didn’t realise that for most people it doesn’t physically hurt when they cry. I didn’t cry for many years when I shut out and shutdown to people. I can understand feelings, I have my understanding of empathy and I feel pain for others within me. I have always understood and I have always felt but I had to learn to show and express in the appropriate way. I have learned to show social kindness to others by being unkind to me.

I can forget to switch me back on

I then lose myself in the maze of life and the passion of people puzzles. My brain loves puzzles, my brain loves finding answers, my heart wants to love and feel loved. People are not puzzles and trying to help is not always what is needed. This is not logical in my mind but I learned to not speak and just to show a certain facial expression I learned from watching my Mom.

I get so busy pleasing others, being who I think they want me to be, that I simply forget to be me. I need to remember to find grounding. I need to remember to return to self. I need to remember that I am worth knowing. I need to remember that I am a unique and loving individual. I need to remember to find my safe place. My Mom was my safe place and without her I can feel very lost. I can find comfort and safety within my faith most of the time. I can also find my safe place when I find me again within my special interests.

What stops me?

I’m still coming to terms with being a dyslexic aspergic geek!

So this is my next step

I need to let the geek out, I need to let me be me.

Face to face female friendships are so socially confusing for me. My geeky intensity and passion for interest is avoided by most NT women. I totally get this and that’s why I don’t let me out very often. When I do I have a wonderful time just being myself.

Let’s face fact though, Aspie women are good at hiding, we are excellent actresses. We learn how to fit or not be seen. When we do get real and some polite person chats and makes us feel accepted, we get excited and forget to hold back a little, we think we have found a friend and can’t wait to see them again. Then we are avoided and the pain we feel from rejection brings back every foul memory from every negative loop we have.

We don’t do the chit chat well. We tend to be too honest and open. We take the conversation to a level that stimulates our own mind without realising we make others uncomfortable. I mean who really wants to get deep and intense about …(insert your own special interests here)… writing, poetry, art, spirituality, ASD’s, animals, fishes, quotes, images, blogging, fantasy and trees.

I find companionship within the blogosphere and I LOVE it

One thing I don’t have is face to face communication with like minded friends.

For any future friends this is who I am.

  • I need to feel accepted and loved for just being me.
  • I need friends who understand I can’t always maintain eye contact but it doesn’t mean I’m not interested.
  • I sometimes need to be intense, it’s how my mind stays focused.
  • I will drift off into daydreams and tangent thoughts but it doesn’t mean I’m not listening.
  • I sometimes just need to be quiet and I need you to be quiet with me while I think.
  • Just because I stop talking doesn’t mean I have finished expressing.
  • I want to be a good friend, I will think of your needs more than my own at times which can make me somewhat annoying.
  • I can get very insecure and feel my ways have hurt you, I fear rejection so I over compensate by being too open and over loving.
  • I am honest and I care deeply
  • I look for what is good in a person but I can be rather naive and gullible.
  • I can be very silly and giggley at times, in these times I may seem insensitive to your needs so I need you to tell me if you need me to be sensible.
  • I won’t just pick up on your feelings by looking at your face.
  • I need to be able to trust, without trust I can’t function within friendship.

I know that God will help me find a way forward. I’m just sharing as I process.

Love and hugs. xx 🙂