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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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 🙂

Escape from my spiral

Click on image for more amazing photos

Escape from my spiral

by Alienhippy

Hollow calls beckon into the darkness of silence

My heart rips as soul is dragged into its empty cavern

A sealed fate of unenlightened despair

Bleeding me of my being, sucking at my energy

Stop your ways you creature of not knowing, you will not win

Stop with your lies you blackened beast, this cave has a way out

This inviting twilight, a glimpse, a glimmer of inbetween

Fragments of a memory will not hinder my voice

An awakened rapturous hold takes me better ways

The illumination of this inner call

So tenderly spoken, a loving whisper

Bringing me up out of my spiral, my twirling doom

Away from its gravitational pull on my mind

I have a voice and as my worth grows you weaken

I can fight you with words, heart words victorious

Your terrors are not my prison any more

Escape your fear, I am no child under tyrant’s restraint

Climbing heart, learning mind, lifted spirit

Levitated from your darkened crevice

I will not be silenced any longer, I will not be caged

I will live and breathe and speak and be

And, I will love

Even from the depths of my pit

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

Self worth, or house proud? (Aspie trying to process)

Hello my lovely Bloggy friends,

I have been thinking today about the drastic change in my attitude towards housework. I grew up in a messy home, my Mom tried so hard to stay on top of things, but my Autistic Dad is a complete hoarder. My Aspie traits and my need for a safe place of calm took me to my bedroom a lot. In my room I had everything in its place. I loved order and I loved clean.

When I left home at 18

I moved into a flat with my first husband we both had a lot of pride in our home. For me I just needed my safe place, a place of knowing, I can see this now. For him it was more of a sense of achievement, he had grown up with very little and he enjoyed having the very best. For both of us home became very materialistic and it made my Mom feel uncomfortable when she visited. She once said to me that she really didn’t enjoy visiting because it was like stepping into a magazine and she felt like her being there was making a mess. She was right, it was like that and for all the wrong reasons.

Roll the years forward to the birth of *AJ

At this point things were not going so well with our marriage and I took comfort in order. My home became OVER organised and EXTRA clean, in fact it was sterile. I developed terrible OCD and what was my safe place was also *AJ’s safe place. He was a tiny baby, I was feeling EXTREMELY insecure with what was out of control in my life, so a phobia of germs took control. My cleaning routines and rituals had to be done, it was the only way I could function at that time.

I wrote a poem about this….here is the link

The Land of the Cleaning Disorder

I was a single Mom for quite some time.

No one noticed my routines and rituals when *AJ was young, I knew they were odd so I hid them well. I had been isolated in my first marriage and I lost all my friends after the divorce. This tends to happen when your couple friends have to choose. Me being the less social one missed out on grabbing the friendships. I lost my home and my belongings (it’s amazing how freeing that can be actually) I didn’t see it at the time, I was seriously depressed. I had a loving family and a good friend who helped me through. I didn’t have anything to clean for a whole year and this broke me of my habit. I was living with those who would put a roof over the head of a young Mom and her 2 year old hyper active son.

Not my rules, they were the rules of the homes I lived in

No belongings, means no cleaning. I was helpful to those I lived with and really just kept out of the way. When I got my home back *AJ was 3 and he no longer needed things to be sterile. I kept a tidy ordered home that was relaxed and friendly. At this point in my life I was in a religious sect and my time was consumed by the indoctrination of this particular fellowship.

When *CAL was born *AJ was 7

My germ phobia kicked back in, Mr Locoman is a lot more loving and patient than my first husband was. He was able to bring me through this, he helped me to feel secure and not have to keep control of the environment.

11 years later I no-longer feel I have to have an immaculate home to impress people, or even be liked by people. Part of this though is because I have spent so long trying to please everyone, trying to imitate or impress friends that now I really don’t care anymore what people think. I know I am loved by God and those God has put in my life.

After the building work was completed we were left with an awful lot of mess, the problem is I seem to have lost the motivation.

I want my home nice again, but there is a kind of fear

Don’t get me wrong it’s not that bad, I can invite people round. But I feel like I am only wanting it nice for me. I think I have been trashed that much in my life by others, and I have allowed people to treat me badly because I didn’t really understand I deserved and was worth better. Now I am having a re-think and wondering if I have lost the “self love” that I should have to motivate me into wanting nice for myself. I can easily do everything for others but for myself I tend to not bother. I don’t feel pressured into doing things to please my husband, my kids, my family or my true friends because I know they love me regardless. I’m very blessed. My kids are both older now and have their own things and their own rooms. I feel content but my home isn’t exactly how I want it.

So how do I find the balance?

What is self-worth?

What is house proud?

Is this an Aspie thing?

Or me just struggling to process my past again?

Just my thoughts, I know God loves me so I should love me too!

There we go, my post of babbling nonsense for the day.

Love and hugs all.

Lisa. xx 🙂

Status update by Joyce Meyer

No one is perfect—each of us is a work in progress. (Phil. 1:6)

Philippians 1:6 (NIV1984)

Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

Obsessions

Obsessions

by Alienhippy

Sometimes my obsessions scare me

Although some can bring my mind rest

They consume my thoughts with their tangents

Then the looping is not always best

~

Some obsessions will call and inspire

They bring freedom and show the real me

But others will make my brain tire

Of the nagging and negative I see

~

I fear that when I am focused

I forget all the things that are real

All the people I love and live for

Will not understand how I feel

~

The days all seem like they merge

My obsessions will pull on my time

I’m so focused on what I am doing

No need for food, not hungry, I am fine

~

I realise that this is not good

I need to show me some loving

My ways are often misunderstood

But for me this is just called living

~

I have made myself a timetable

And set an alarm on my phone

It’s good to be so intense sometimes

But it’s better to not feel alone

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

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
~1 Corinthians 13:4-7~