Outspoken and Loud....Pain

"I am not a broken toy", is still my current favorite catchphrase.

Outspoken and Loud, are two words that can be used to describe my certain accent these days. It's another one of those ying/ yang thingys. There are good aspects and bad.
Oh, and I should add crabby, to the mix. Pain makes me much irritable and I have a toothache. Saw the dentist today, and he proceeded to discover the source of pain. It's a good thing he stood a step back or I would have grabbed him, twisted and asked Him, "Now does it hurt there?" I was positively livid and enraged with pain by the time I got home. Eldest was hanging around and I yelped a warning to him to stay away from me until the pain meds kick in. It was that ferocious. I just wanted to beat the crap out of something. Anyway, I'm full of drugs, but not enough to lose lucidity.....need more:)

 I've been in an extremely verbal "phase". If you don't want to hear what I think, don't ask, because I will say exactly how I feel. This is new stuff for me. Not sure if it's progress or due to therapy or just getting in touch with some deeper, dark aspects of myself I've kept hidden away.
  I've been looking at the volume of friends and acquaintances that have come and gone. There are probably a dozen peoples that no longer speak to me anymore or who ignore me. And that was when I was trying so damn hard to be super nice. So I figure, what the hell. I can't make things worse by being loud and outspoken.

 It's interesting....a couple people I know...have actually shared more about themselves with my bluntness out in the open. Can't figure that one out. It's like...they are attracted to it, like moths to a flame....or they somehow...trust? me more?
 Yup, I have definitely pissed some people's off. I joined an Aspie support group online. Wrong group for me, as it was a bunch of whiny nt parents trying to force their kids into normalacy. I really spoke out there. Then figured it was a lost cause that just made me angry. So I dropped out to save myself from the backward and stupid. I can't handle stupid very well.
 Yikes, now you see where I'm at these days. I'm just done playing games. I am more in touch with how I genuinely feel about things. And I am acutely aware of how much I have been hurt and trompelled on.


Speaking of Pain
I've been getting in touch with some of that old, stored up pain. You know, the kind wrapped up tight and hidden in the farthest corners of my mind. Yeah, life has been that good. The best description I have of it...it's like being set on fire and forced through a meat grinder. I have lots of that.
The other thing I realized.....you have to verbally tell someone you are in pain, and to what level, in order to get some relief. With this neck pain, which has improved greatly via acupuncture....if I wasn't able to somewhat accurately describe its intensity, I would....well, I was for awhile, left in great discomfort, because I couldn't find the right words to explain its intensity and duration.
Pain is one of those abstract thingys, that autistics can have trouble grasping and identifying.....describing to others how one feels. How do I know if my pain is a 1 or a 10? Sharp, intermittent, dull and achy, intense, overpowering? When I reach the teary point...it's gone too far. But I don't know the point or two before tears.


It reminds me of hunger. Too often I ignore low degrees of hunger and frequently, suddenly, realize I am ravenous and have to quickly eat whatever is available. See...I ignore low intensity...sensations, so big, overwhelming sensations throw me off. Hunger and pain, when not addressed early enough, can be very distressing and annoying, tough to get back under control.
I'm learning what level of pain requires what amount of meds and intervention. It's a necessary botherment. Self-care is quite a process for this autistic.



Ughughugh.
On the upside, my boys find me quite fun, amusing, daring and unpredictable. A couple of times we have engaged in loud, obnoxious jungle animal noises that were positively hilarious. I say some...hmmm...non traditional mom stuff. I can be...politically incorrect but temper it around Younglink. We have definitely been definitely been having a lot more spontaneous fun....tickle fights and weird noise fests. It's been real.
Anyway, lots shaking in my small corner of the galaxy.
I hope you are well:)

Where I live

This is the street I live on. Every time I turn onto it, it looks like a magical Emerald forest.


The colors, right now are a blazing. Spring green is a hue all it's own.

To Sharon One Small Square

Drive by shooting.....LOVE IT!!!!

Celebrate Autism. Autism Is the Power of One

I get tired of people trying to cure me and fix me, as if I'm a broken toy of no value. I'm autistic, not disabled. Maybe in addition to finding a cure, because some Do suffer with it, we need to celebrate and appreciate who we are.
 How can we acknowledge, accept and even revel in who we are, if everyone says we need adjustment and management and a fix?
 Autism is the Power of One.

 I was born with a unique and varied way of communicating. I had to learn, teach myself, how to speak and learn the foreign language of those around me. Few can understand the immensity of such a task for a small child.
 Through observation, reading, research and mimicry, I have self-taught myself the weird and varied societal norms, rituals, customs and vernacular. I have worked my hiney off, to no ones notice but my own. I have accomplished mega milestones that would befuddle the average person on the street.
I say, I proudly accept who I am. I celebrate the fact that I see the world in a most unique lens. I enjoy having a mind that acutely focuses on detail, can research obscure subjects well past the time others quit and can fascinate myself with, what others may say, are mundane special interests. I love to see and discover the patterns all around me. I adore the intricacy of a single, magnificent blade of grass. I feel the beauty of a gentle Spring breeze and the labyrinth-like bark of a tree.
My super hearing allows me to hear the gentle flapping of a birds wings, the sound a water skidder makes on a pond and the varied tones of leaves hitting the ground.
My acute touch sensitivity helps me determine good people from bad, let's me feel where someone hurts and comforts me like the softest, most caring of pillows.
 My inner world is a fantasmical creation of wonder, logic and magic, never to be fully shared or realized by anyone but me. My imaginary friends are the Best!! They don't fight or argue and are always there for me. My imaginary friends can beat up your honor students, cept they are completely non-violent.
 I worry that my child-like naivety and curiosity will be maligned and destroyed by the unsavory outer world. I have the highest of moral codes and had to learn to tell white lie, to spare others feelings. I try so darn hard not to hurt anyone else, because I know, all too well, of pain.
As I can experience great beauty, I can feel depths of pain. I will not sacrifice one to avoid the other.
  I refuse to stay in the box and color inside the lines. I generate new ideas and novel ways of looking at things. I am a creative problem solver.
 Don't try to cure or fix me, cause I'm not broke.
 Celebrate my many abilities. Recognize that I am a fully healthy and loaded with gifts.
 I am proud to be autistic.

The More I Talk, the Better I Feel...friendships

Life isn't a primrose path of happy feelings. I am a nice person, but not always. Acknowledging, talking and writing about my irks and "unmentionable" negative emotions, is really freeing me up.


I'd judge...well, I continually judge, whether a thought or feeling is politically correct and sayable.
I try hard not to hurt others feelings but maybe it's just time for more truth and less censorship.
It's been to my emotional and physical detriment to keep so much sequestered in. It's becoming clearer and clearer how closely tied my physical condition is, to the state of my emotions.
Unhealthy, unspoken, clogged emotions lead to a sick body.
I'm tired of stuffing. I'm done putting up with bs.


It's ironic...today, on my walk, I spied, from a distance, one of those unfriends who denies we ever were friends...kinda like a "known stranger." I've learned with these people, to just ignore them without altering my own path. I run from people no more. They have an unknown beef with me, they can monitor my movements out if the corner of their eye....my path will not change.
With this specific "known stranger", I am absolutely clueless as to why she stopped calling. Can't say I really care at this point. She obviously had issues.



  I was just talking to another Aspie this week, about how hard it is to figure out the parameters of any friendship. How often to call? When, time wise? How often to ask to visit or hang out? We try really hard to figure out these individualistic boundaries and it's challenging. We really mean not to infringe or overwhelm. Someone hand me the friendship rule book please:)
Funny, I went for a long walk by myself....kept thinking....Autism=the Power if One. And how much easier and freer it is, to be absolutely alone...no strings, no trying to figure this out or that person out....it was nice.
I'm okay alone. It's not necessarily a bad thing. I have moments when I'd like a friend...then the moment passes.


I am not a bad person, in any way, shape or form. I am complex and very hard to get to know. I don't trust easily. I don't play well with others, at times. And I'm okay with that.
I just like having people that care about me and that I can be honest with.


I'm getting more truthful with myself. I'm able to identify, yeah, actually identify and put names to how I feel And I'm willing to write, talk and deal.
Live long and prosper:)

Inside Autism..A Photo Essay

When I am alone, it's easier to be who I truly am, autistic. Today I went for a walk. Here are my thoughts:

I saw this old wooden sign on a tree. I wonder what it used to say.

A broken piece of glass. I wonder what broke. Was it an accident? Was anyone hurt? Should I pick it up, bury it or leave it alone?

Hmm, an artificial daffodil. I wonder where dead artificial flowers go? It's completely useless and out of its element. I'm at the cemetery,so someone must have placed it on a loved ones grave. I wonder what will happen to it? Probably get chewed up by the lawn mower or raked into one of the piles marked abandon. It isn't mine to take or save. Sure does look real.

Looks like old curbing, no longer wanted or needed. I wonder where it was originally. I wonder if this is it's final resting place. Cement decays so slowly, softly, with not even a hush.

I don't know what these are, but there are piles of them.

An old tire that looks pretty new. I wonder what it fell off of, how it broke

I can't figure that these old oil tanks were ever used in this cemetery. I'm guessing someone, probably one of the cemetery workers, just dumped them out here. You never know what you will find walking the back roads and outskirts of a cemetery.

There were quite a few of these...abandon..urns. Guess they just pile them all up. Someone had paid for them. Probably had plants or flowers in them. I wonder how they lost their place. Maybe they just couldn't figure out which place they belonged to, now they dwell in nomans land.

Ahhh, I found the artificial flower graveyard.

I wasn't sure what to make of this. It might be an old rusted plow. Hmmm, I don't know for sure.

I was going to walk down this two-track, but an old woman spirit stopped me. Apparently, something that would have disturbed me was back there or had taken place in that area. She was a kind and helpful ghost spirit. I could have walked past her. I was veryvery curious. I heeded her warning and stayed away.

Lots of pipes. Probably for irrigation. They looked both interesting and out-of-place.

Miscellaneous concrete slabs left to die. Probably going to rest against that tree forever. Maybe they will even become part of the tree, you know, tree grows over them...if left long enough.

Two posts with a chain and a small piece of that PVC pipe from a previous picture. I had crossed it to get these pictures and look around. I didn't see any no trespassing signs. I don't know if the pipe and chain is like a no trespass sign or like a "watch out, don't drive into the chain and down this path by accident." I didn't feel internally bad when I crossed it, so I think it was alright.

Ahhhh, a whole bunch of pretend flowers hiding behind a pine tree. These flowers had a suspicious, nefarious feel to them...like someone deliberately ripped them off a gravesite, in anger and dismay and callously, with great vengeance, tossed them in the nearest hide spot.

Probably an old flag from last Veterans day. I wasn't going to take a picture because sometimes people get reallyreally upset if they see an American flag crumpled. Then I chuckled to yself and thought, hey, I'm not the only one that an attach huge meaning to inanimate objects!

Contrast...the dead tree, the life trying to grow all on its own in the discarded container. Sometimes life needs nothing but it's own impetus to grow. It doesn't necessarily need anyone or anything but opportunity.

Discarded, in death springs life. Nothing's ever wasted. The end begets the beginning. The cycle of life.

See, I really am at the cemetery. I liked the perspective.

The horse chestnut trees are starting to open their leaves.

A better close-up:)

I am always grateful for the volunteers who put the flags on the veterans graves. I saw them doing it today. Our veterans are our greatest heroes.

I see lines, boundaries where most don't. I have to think and decide if it's okay, acceptable and safe before I cross any. There is a division between the grass, which I had previously deemed, acceptable to walk on and the myrtle, periwinkle coated forest floor. I still felt squimish, unsure setting foot into the myrtle.

A big, man-made concretion, of unknown origin. Looks old judging by the stones conglomerated together. Doesn't look like a house foundation or anything. Unknown.

A closer view. You can see more of the rocky substance and all the moss and plants that call it home.

Well, this was my funnest anomaly in the cemetery...a very old, rusted box spring from a bed. Ya gotta wonder how it ended up here, why no one has removed it and the story behind it:)

Just had to get a nother view:) Cool, huh?

This is a root from a tree that had started growing above ground. Poor tree. The lawn mower has run over and chopped at it dozens of times. It's formed a pretty healthy looking scab scar. The wound is actually quite beautiful and intricate. Poor tree....that had to hurt.

Whilst walking near the forest, I found this piece of very old headstone. I felt kinda sad. I'm guessing it broke apart with age and then unceremoniously got swept away by the plow truck into a pile. The snow melted and left it partially buried. Looks like trucks have driven over it. Sad

Whatssup?

A piece of birch amongst the leaves.

Strange concretion of unknown origin or use. A quiet, silent monolith to....something.

This is where the dead wreaths go. There is a metal burn bucket nearby. Note to self: if I ever place a wreath, remove and dispose of in a timely manner.

This cemetery two-track, also has a chain with little colored flags. They don't want unofficial cars driving down here.

See, the post with wire cable and makeshift flags.

I went back to that broken headstone I found. I just couldn't leave it there to be trampled and run over...so I brushed it off some and put a bunch of sticks upright in the ground so the cemetery workers would notice it. :) I feel a little less sad.

I marveled at this tree with a massive old wound. How did it manage to survive and thrive?

Absolutely amazed and astounded!!! Beautiful, magnificent!

I went for a walk today. This is what I saw and thought.
Autism= the power of one