I love him, I love him not

I’m sure that I am not an easy one to live with. I’ve been told. My mom was eager to get me out, even before I was 18. I graduated High School at 18, with an apartment.

Since then I’ve been independant. My whole like I had people making choices for me and now I could do it for myself. I didn’t like the change at first. I missed sleeping with my mom. I missed the smell of her house. I missed my mommy. But once I got settled, I got set in my ways. Hey if I want the table here. Here is were it will go. If I need the couch and chair to line up – fine – Its mine!

But then I met him… he lived with him mom and pops, never had what I had. He was childish, outgoing, and fun. Something I desired. Something I was not but not by choice. Remember I never knew why I was the way I was. Always happy with myself I saw I was different and I saw that I was the same. Nobody could ever see that. Nobody could see this side of me because it hid inside and masked itself in a quirky artistic way. So I hung out with you and we had a really great time. You were my best friend. What you don’t know my name? You asked me hey aren’t you that girl at my school. So maybe it was just me having a good time watching you have a good time. I was posted on the wall like the fly. It was the best time of my life.

Well when I met him , he made me feel like that but he remembered my name. I may have been a fly on the wall but he noticed me and played with me. He kept the conversation going. When he was loud it was goofy stuff and it made me laugh. I never laughed before unless it was me being the “funny” one with my bbf (my true friend that saw past the shell) or my bub that was stranger than I. He could be somewhat obnoxious and it was awesome to have that taken from me and be able to find humor in it.

But then somewhere things changed. Me saying shit thats down right mean because I thought thats they way to but the way I felt into human words. And the lack of shutdown time. I needed recharged and I didn’t and still do not know how to get this out (well I think I do but nobody listens- so I guess its not quite right) .

I want a family. I have a family. But I feel like I’m doing in alone with him watching. I’m the watcher and if I’m not watching get your ass up here with me. I’m tired of not being heard. Hes tired of me not talkin or “bitching.” I see it as I’m right and honestly I’m not willing to change much. I’m me. I’m who I have always been. He is the one that changed. The only change is he has not grown up any. Except hes mean now and it rare that hes funny. Its not cute being a kid when you have kids.

gwigfwgf gfuegfi nothing got out. Not only can I not talk but I can’t seem to get it out anywhere other than my head -Which BTW fully understands. Since he has came back – I’m not so happy. He yells a lot. He scares me – no startles me. He touches me. He asked me what I’m doing and makes me want to stop doing anything. (I don’t know why) He makes me feel down. I’m not a down person although I appear to others as a sad depressed person. (But I am not!) He says stuff he don’t mean and then he don’t follow through. If you say you want to leave and move out this weekend – of course come Monday I wonder WTF you are doing here. Wait what monday? Fuck. This shit confuses me. We certainly did not make up. I went to sleep I woke up. Nothing changed. I don’t understand this crap. He says to tell him when I need help. I was raised that a “real” man would do it when he was it was needed. But I compromised and started asking him. He ignores me or complains or acts like a hooker that would only do whatever if I gave him something. Huh. Now we have two problems you were a lazy fucking loser who was not man enough to do the “dirty” work and you ignored me. Then you are made when I do it myself and other guys asked what the fuck is wrong with my so called man. Then you get mad when they help me do what you should have done. And he call him my boyfriend or start stuff with them. Or wait you didn’t want it done at all. I’m confused. Man up or get over it.

People = Unhappy Drama (why I say no thanks)

It just seems as nobody can keep me happy with them. I attract assholes and rejects. I’m surrounded by them. Not a soul around me understands me. All of them seem like they are around me for their own selfish reasons. They all seem to be a bunch of button mashers and I’m tired of having my triggers going off because others want to place their own unhappiness on me. I don’t make you unhappy. You make you unhappy. If I make you so damn unhappy…. walk away. Remember I’m fine alone. I like it like that. I rarely piss myself off but others are a different story…

I do not feel good and I’m not in the mood to play a game of charades with you. And yelling at me or talking too loud,aggressively, toward me – is a sure one way ride…. right out the front door.

Most people irritate me and I like to spend most of my time alone because of it.

My Quirky Traits (known as symptoms)

I would not say “symptoms” because I don’t feel “sick”. I just feel “different,” in a way. The other way, people see me different and I don’t see it. Huh?!

So here is a long list of quirky traits that the norms (NT) find strange.

I will start with the most noticeable one first, then randomly!

Socially Awkward. Social Misfit. Socially Challenged. 

Weirdo, freak, out cast, loner, rebel, painfully shy… call in whatever. They all mean the same damn thing and fit me too a “T” [T, Whatever that means, perhaps I should google it?! I learned the ‘meaning’ but I have no idea what the fuck it’s referring to, why a T and not an X or Q or P? Why does it meed to be a letter at all?!]

Anyways…

I’m a total misfit, socially. My entire life I have never fit it with the others. Here and there, I would manage to stumble upon a friend… but it was rare and it involved the stars and the moon aligning, just so. It also took great effort and a special person to chase after my friendship. I never really fit in with the household either and the same with my extended family.

My mom tried so hard to make me normal. I was her only kid. She pushed me into social groups and left me to fend for myself. I never knew how to approach the others, even on the odd occasions, when I thought it may be something interesting. When I was approached my others it would catch me off guard and my 3rd grade I was specious on others intent from so much teasing. I was often in a world of my own… far, far away.

When I was there, it was like I was just there, just a body, no personality, nobody controlling the plane. Just on a lump on a log, or a fly on the wall. In my mind, I had joined in with the others but not necessarily. I may have invited myself into a group without permission or I was standing back from the group staring at them like a freak stalking them.

While other times I would be playing alone. I would not be aware of my surroundings, meaning those around me. I’d notice them aware of them near, most of the time but not engaged.

Faceless People (prosopagnosia)

I would describe this as an unblurry blur. They are not actually blurry but I just can’t seem to make them out. You know, in video games the people in the bleachers are back there but they don’t have faces. They blend together as a blob of faceless people. This is sort of what I see when I’m in crowded places. My partner and girls (all norms) see faces on each and every one of them. They can spot a friend or loved one out of a group. I can not. I can walk by my very own mother and not see her in a crowd. Unless she gets my attention. (would be hard) I would walk right by without ever knowing.

Also since I don’t look at people much I don’t remember the way they look. People I went to school with (or worked with) will recognize me and approach me awkwardly. “You don’t remember me?” they ask.

Me: Ummm, no… should I remember you?

“We used to work together.”

Me: Ahhhhh, I fake like I remember. [Slap on a fake smile] Usually until they give me a clue to that I can connect with. Sometimes I never remember and I think it was just a nutty person.

Eye Contact

Never ever do I look people in the eyes. Is about as uncomfortable as having someone break  into your home and raid your unmentionables.

I can look at my boyfriend in the eyes, now. I can look at my children in the eyes…. oh what beautiful eyes they all have. It amazes me!

As I have grown into an adult, I can now briefly look at the eyes of others. I can even fool them into thinking I’m a normal. Ick, I must come home and shut down. That shit drains me!

Hugs

Umm, no, please.

Hugs are one of those “normal” things norms like to do, that I do not get. I do not understand the need to ‘smoosh’ ones body against another. To me they are awkward and unpleasant. I avoid them at all costs. People that hug me, general do not see me again for a long while.

Personal Space

Like hugs, I do not like other in my space. If I can swing my arms and punch you, you are too close and I’m likely aware of it. Most likely I’m visualizing doing it but trying very hard not to. No really, back the fuck up!

Since I don’t like people close it was rare, even as a child that I stood too close. I was usually reverse and standing too far away.

Since Of Direction

When god created me, a human compass was optional. An option I obviously did not get.

I have absolutely no since of direction. I do not know how others can tell where they are going so easy. North, West, South, or East… 15 feet, 30 yards… how should I know!?

Example: When I was 15, we moved to the other side of town. It was the middle of the school year. I needed to ride the school bus to school. The bus unloaded all of us at a school a few blocks from my home, where I would then need to walk home. My mom showed me how to get home a few times in the prior days. I felt confident I could find my home, after all in was only a few blocks, right?! Wrong. I was lost. I turned somewhere or didn’t turn somewhere because I had walk for much longer than a few blocks. I found myself in the projects before too long. I wanted to cry but I kept walking I would find home before too long if I kept walking, right!?! Well sort of. I got home hours later. I was embarrassed about it. Thank goodness I was home alone for the night. I needed it! I did this for several days at least. I’m not sure what I was doing wrong but I did figure out a path to get me home much faster after a while. Now I know the projects are about 3/4 of a mile away from mom’s house. I know that I then came from the other direction toward my home. I’m guessing I had walked several miles, turning dozens of times, to get to my home 4-5 blocks away that only had one turn.

I tend to stay close to home and travel familiar routes only.

If I do go someplace new I check Google maps and study the street view feature to help me some. I’m still easily lost and prefer someone else to take me.

Three little bears voice

Too loud at times, too quit at others, rarely just right. I can’t seem to get it right to people.

Time to Check out

Like a hotel, I expect, and need a check out time. This time is like a recharge or shut down. At some point I will checkout like I ran out of battery juice. I can delay this by letting me recharge myself by being alone. When I’m done, I’m done. I need to leave or go into something that is soothing to me. I need to be in my own world and leave the earth that norms know and love.

Stupid List of Facts

Just like this one! I make excel spreadsheet lists, to-do lists, seasonal bucket list, list, list, list, of mostly pointless crap. I’m not sure why I do them. Sometimes I’m also embarrassed or ashamed to admit my newest lists to people who will make fun of me or say, “why?” [because to me, that is making fun of me] It feels important at the time and to move onto my next thing it just has to be done or at least started and left unfinished, I do that too! 🙂

Where’s the volume button?

Loud things hurt. Not a hurt hurt – but a sensation that makes me want to freak/flip out. My ears feel sensitive to loud noises. Sitting in the car with bass throbbing gives me anxiety because I can not make the person stop it. I have visualized jumping out of the car at a high rate of speed to get my point across and avoid hearing it any longer. It clogs my head.

Emergency vehicles bother me greatly. The noise is unbearable. Thank god they speed by. I don’t think I would be able to handle anymore than that.

Vacuum cleaners – where the hell are the quite ones at. I can not stand the sound of them. I’m not sure why they need to be so darn loud.

SHUT UP

Blah blah blah blah blah. I stopped listing at blah, I don’t care, blah. Your voice annoys me, blah. It’s interrupting what I’m doing please just shut up asshole. What face do I make to look uninterested?!

Church/ Higher Being

Do people really believe this spiritual shit? Really? No fucking way! Really? Hmm and I’m the one that isn’t normal?

Emotions & Empathy 

I cry when others would not. Often it’s something that seems strange for a norm.

Same goes in reverse, I can go to a funeral for a dear loved one and not shed a single tear. I sense that people are sad around me. I can see they are crying. I feel sad, sort of. I mean after all they are gone now. I will never see them again. But what will my tears change? Why can’t I cry like the norms? I have even tried as an adult to cry at a funeral just so I didn’t look like a fucking asshole but nothing. Nothing but an awkward pouty lip would come out. Really. Thank god I had my son with me. He looked like an asshole with me! The only two dry eyes in the whole damn place. I could look around and see this because it didn’t mean eye contact. My son looks over at me, whispers, mom do you think grandma will have bugs all over her when we bury her? I smile and whisper back to him by tonight sweetie. He bites his lip to hold back that grin that wants to explode into a laughter. We loved the woman but she is gone, its sad, but we think differently. I smiled because I was just thinking the same kind of things. I’m sure I looked like an asshole that raised my son to be one too.  Don’t confuse that with not caring. I felt sad, every now and then, when I’d think of her. We planted  a garden in her memory. I let the kids pick a prized veggie from it to place on her grave. I’m sure it was strange for the groundskeeper to see this in lieu of flowers that norms typically bring. For my boy and me this garden was the closer we needed. Not tears seeing her body before it rotted away and was eating by bugs. I also do not feel the need to visit her grave anymore either. I know she is not their. I know she is not with us.

I have not went to funerals. Not because I didn’t care but I just think it was important. I was later told my family that they were hurt by my absents but I knew I couldn’t cry with the norms. I knew I would stick out like a sore thumb and I didn’t think it would matter that I didn’t go. I did not need it for myself as closure. The person was no longer with us. I didn’t feel the need to see this for my self again. (I had visited the hospital a few days before. I thought I had already paid my “respects” to the family) I saw a dead body I let people hug me and cry on my shoulder. (Ugh talk about taking one for the team.) I didn’t care to see the hole or wooden box. I know I don’t listen to people talk much when I ‘m in a crowd so I would not hear much. On this day it was really cold and snowy. Both the brightness and cold bother me. I do not like bright white snow reflecting the sun and the cold feels heightened and uncomfortably to me.

Difficulty Expressing Anger

Some things roll off me that would piss off others. When I was younger excessive anger would explode from me. Now I just bottle things up. I can hold a grudge for the longest time, especially lies, or trust issues. I just have a hard time letting go of it or getting past it. Nothing ever leaves. I never forget.

Metaphors and Jokes

I appear to some as stupid or like I have no sense of humor. I’ve heard that I seem uptight or too good. People have said I can not take a joke or that I take things too literal.

I would say I have a huge sense of humor. I laugh at shit all the time, in my head. People tell me jokes and it takes me a minute to get them. I don’t always find humor in jokes. It does not mean  that I don’t have a sense of humor. There are other ways in which people are funny. Most of it has to do with me not getting some of the pun included in jokes. I don’t get some of the metaphors.

Some of the jokes seem to zoom right by me. How is it funny, if I do not understand what you are talking about? Sometime the jokes are long and I’m not sure what facts to focus on. They all can not be important, just get to the point!

I no longer bother to listen to the joke if it starts with: A priest, a rabbi, and a jew… I NEVER get those. Never.

I know that if you say are so hungry, you could eat a horse. You’re measuring your appetite. I’ll even be honest and even I may chuckle in my head on a silly day when I visualize you trying to catch the horse to take a bite BUT I know that is not what you mean! 

I will use metaphors. However I’m not so sure if people always get what I am saying. Sometimes I feel like people take me out of context. Same with jokes. I say some funny shit sometimes, at least I think so! Other people crack up at stuff I can’t even fake as funny.

yuieurge gfeugf husdbh dsuduisg uiuis – language

Some days I get it better than others, some days I don’t hardly get anything. Some times I feel like the English language is my second language that has been acquired for my stay. Like one would learn French to visit France. I have days where I feel like blurting out hfoihfiodscsnc hufghuc hfuehgfuc uhfuh hfhc hurfnfos gibberish cause some times it’s all I ever hear from others. Clogging my brain with feign crap that I must sort and translate into something I could understand.

I don’t know how to explain it but sometimes I feel like an alien in the body of a human. Not that I feel this way. But its a feeling I can only describe how different I feel but don’t look. Hope you’re still with me!

I’m not into music that much. But I can tell ya almost knew what the fuck Eminem was saying in that song “Got It Twisted

I’m just gonna make a new language ‘fubba you cubba cubba, ubba you ubba uber, you can bizsucka my dibidick toowa’

Flinch when you touch me unexpectedly

I get startled when someone touches me. They may think they gave me a Que they were about to but I must miss that subtle sign. At the time, I feel startled and it makes me a minute to regroup although I try to not show it.

Voice Mail gets more calls than me & twice as much incoming text than outgoing.

I ignore phone calls. My phone rings and I get irritated. I start wondering it I could just save that money and just not have a phone. No phone would be awesome! I would much rather get a text than be called but that does not mean I want to chat via text. If I feel like its chit-chatty wait to answer them and then forget about it for hours… opps!

Did I say that… or not?

I have caught that I often answer questions in my head instead of out loud. I know my boyfriend gets annoyed with this. He’ll ask me something. I’ll think of the answer, reply in my head, and wonder why he’s still looking at me saying hello you gonna talk. Opps! LOL you didn’t get that memo! Just like I don’t pick up on other people’s non verbal communication  I guess they don’t get mine either.

Live. Think. Relive. Rethink. Fuck it & Guess

Like it wasn’t enough to experience it the first time. I have the urge to relive conversations.

I try to listen to what you say. I see you there. You move your arms, your hands point. It’s like you are saying something else. One at a time please. Wait I can only understand when one of you talk at a time. Are you going to use sign language or are you going to speak because you are doing both and I can get it all. So I don’t get much in the end. It didn’t make much sence to me. Likely I missed something you said or something you signed to me with your hands, or those funny faces you were making. I will now go home and replay this shit so that I can try to piece this crap together. I’m sure I mix up a lot, sometimes I can not quite remember it and will guess. So I then rethink and re-guess some more. I’m sure it’s totally twisted now. Maybe next time they will only speak one at a time.

I have learned that I listen much better if I appear to not listen. Likely if I look at you (or your eyebrow or ear to fool you) I do not hear anything since I am trying to look engaged and normal. I have to think about where to put my hands, what my eyebrows should do, what’s my mouth doing, should I nod? Sure nod, norms like that it seems to fool them! Anyway I can not multitask well so I was not listening to you. My effort was used looking like others. If I stare at an object or doodle I hear so much more. For one I’m not looking at your sign language meaning only one person is talking. (I don’t have to listen to your body language too, which also speaks but I can not seem to hear at the same time, if any, since this is only my 3rd language)

Shiver at the phase “Look me in the eye”

This is enough to make me cringe. My father would always get inches from my face (personal space), screaming (noise & negative), look me in the eye (me = no eye contact). Ugh it still brings back memories. It’s much easier to look other people in the eyes than him. He was the person I would vote least likely to know me. As a child I would have an urge to kick him in the nuts. I would act on them most of the time. He would cause me to melt down like none other and he lived in my house. He was my own worst enemy. Everything I did was wrong. Stop looking stiff. Turn your head, move your hands, have some personality. Talk damn it. Shut up damn it. I laugh at it now. I have realized he was no good in my life. I also did not feel connect to him, ever. It was an easy choice that was easy to do. It feels good not dealing with him anymore.

Secrets & To lie or not to lie

I can lie but not well. People ask me something. How does my hair look? Do these make my butt look big? I wonder why they do it to themself and to me. They know I will tell them and I never know how to candy coat things. I blurt out my reply and it hurts their feelings.

Other times I’m told to lie – I can’t. I always give it away and feel stupid. Or I have a secret I must tell someone. I don’t judge who to tell so well and I have been known to confess the secret or lie to the person closet to the subject. Opps.

But then that does not include the “interest lie” if I’m really into the lie I can convince anyone. This is rare and it was something I enjoyed doing as a kid and teen. I found it entertaining!

Short Term Memory

I can remember when my cousin was born that I have not seen since I was 11. I know my first phone number that I have not used since I was 6. But I can not remember what you told me 20 minutes ago. I can pull out my cellphone, remember to press the call button, *light on*, swipe to unlock, BIG ASS CLOCK SHOWING TIME. Put phone away. Wait for it…  wait for it… FUCK. I forgot what time it was. This seriously describes most everything I do.

Short Talk

I forget words, can find the correct word, or just can find the word to use at all. So when I talk I will say you know that thing we talked about, the kids went to um, pause, um, they went with grandma to that place she took them. If I’m luck the pause will be brief. On bad days, I will stop mid sentence and never restart. I will leave the listener sitting there awkwardly.  On even worse days, I would casually walk away following that.

Mispronounce

Some words are over pronounce, some under. Then they’re words, I will not even attempt anymore. I have butchered some of the english language. This was not a problem until I moved to the north from the Carolina’s. It’s “the” not “theee”. It’s “hill” not “heel”.  When you do not notice subtle differences, this wedding is horse shit. So, I try to avoid certain words all together. Now not only do I feel strange and unable to communicate but now everything I have learned up until now no longer counts. These people do not under stand ANYTHING I say. At least back home, they knew somewhat. They also spoke much s-l-o-w-e-r and I was able to translate better that way. How can my accent be so heavy. How can speech classes and training still leave me with it, 20 years later? I have lived here longer than I lived there, by double.

Right to Left or Left to Right

On the rare occasion, I actually look at a magazine, I start at the back. I like to get to the point. If the point is something, I will skim the rest. Somewhere in the middle I’m board and lay in down and never touch it again.

Startled Surprises

I startle easily. People catch me off guard or touch me and I will jump out of my skin. I hate this surprised feeling. It’s the same feeling I get on roller coasters. I do not like to feel scared. I do not understand the enjoyment behind fear. Same with surprises. I need to know in advance. I need to prepare myself. Do not jump out and say surprise. This makes me have animal instinct. I don’t wanna feel that way, yo!

I dance to the beat of my own drum, literally.

I have no normal rhythm. I do not see this. This stare that norms hear I must be deaf to. I hear other sounds crisp. If one things off its, bad. Awful bad, I may hurt the feelings of the band, bad. I know I appear awkward and look goofy, when I dance. This is why you will never see me dance! I do not seem to get the rhythm everyone else does.

Lines, straight lines, curved lines, but only lines please

When I was a kid, I would sort M&M’s, line them up, and eat them in order. Everyone would, right? Wrong. I would be annoyed at how people could eat there M&M’s out of the bag, without looking, or worse looking and knowing they were eating them too randomly. Ugh, how could they!?! So adult me isn’t quite so judging. If I could eat M&M’s, I’d eat them by color. Pour them in my hand and gobbling up the greens, followed by yellow, blue… and so on.

Now I plan things so I have my lines. I like curves but I need “lines”. Here’s where we get tricky. The line can curve as long as it flows but I must still be able to see a “line” and not chaos. Planning when I place things in the house depends on the lines. If I sit here, does the TV “line up” to the table. If I move something it has to match up. It’s a quirk thing. But it’s a thing with me. If this isn’t correct, my boyfriend knows I will watch it and notice it instead of him until its fixed.

Even as a kid with my M&M’s my “lines” did not have to be a straight line they just had to be my way in an order of a line, even if it formed a circle it was in my line. Make sense?! I do not like squares because they are too perfect. And they have that sharp corner. I would rather have a rectangle. I like circles but an oval is too off balancing and drives me nuts. I like groups of 3’s but not 4’s. I like 5’s but not 6’s.

If we switch to colors, I cringe at the sight of drastic and sudden changes in colors. I like subtle changes or colors to compliment each other. If we are talking about walls then dark is a no-no. Although I like dark colors they make the room feel cluttered and smaller. If it’s to fucking bright or too many colors it’s nothing but chaos.

Spinning Fans, Wheels, Toys, and more.

I particularly didn’t like getting dizzy but I do like circles. I would ride my bike in large circles so I didn’t get dizzy. I would walk in large circles. Lots of left hand turns and I’m not a Nascar fan! Actually I was more of a righty-tighty. I would roll down the hill in the yard in a barrel. Fans of dear fan blades. I could follow that damn blade all night. Round and round and round. My bike tire was fun. I like to flip in over and petal until the wheel would go really fast. One day I followed the reflector around and around. I had a neighborhood friend over. Man we had that tire going. I watched that reflector it seemed to go around and around. I had the urge for my finger to follow it too. I watched and planned the moment I would jump in with the reflector…. Weeee. BAM. Fuck fuck fuck I almost took my finger off. It never downed on me that the fork would prevent my finger going around the whole ride around. The tip of my finger still slants in the direction of the crash.

I like movement. It does not need to go around and around in a “circle” but it does need to be a pattern.

Painless or Unnoticed

Some things hurt like hell as a kid. Somethings were so annoying or bothersome I could only say, awe, to get people to stop. Other things I had such a high tolerance for. For example I would jump off from my bunk bed and land on my knees. They would bruise, people would gasp in pain for me, but I never felt the pain. Pinching, poking, banging, slamming the door on my chest piercing everything on my body – none of it hurt. It only made me want more.

Other times something as little as a loud sound would hurt me. My dad grabbing the back of my neck playful would send me into tears.

Ice. Crunch Ice, please.

Just thinking about it makes me want some. I love to crunch ice. If I see snow, I crave it. I will get the urge to scoop up a handful and put in my mouth. I’m sure I’m annoying with my obnoxious crunching.

My Even Steven Game

Step on a crack with foot left. You must step on a crack with the right in the same exact spot. Oopps not close enough. Now you need to step with left foot, where right foot messed up. Right foot still needs to step in the correct spot. Get it right or well add more steps. Try doing this in your head when you walk with your class. Try and look normal when you do it. My classmates would always bother me, hey don’t step on the cracks, you’ll break your moms back. Shut up kid your fucking me up. Hey you must hate your mom I would hear as I stopped on a crack the same stomping way I did with the left foot. This must have been “even” before we go to where we were going. If not, I couldn’t think about nothing else. It would bug me so much I would be set on planning my steps on the way back to get it right.

Speaking of OCD’s: My mom would smack me. I would insist she smack me again, in the same exact spot, the same exact way. If she messed up and smacked the shit out of me the first time, and tapped me the reverse time, she would have to do my game above. I mean she would HAVE to do it. I would go over the deep end, lose control, send the house in utter chaos until I got what I needed. There were no get over its, with me. It was mom getting over it and fixing what SHE started. It’s no wonder my mom gave up spankings! Try that in public.

Obsessed Special Interests

This year I will like coupons. Also this month I like landscaping. I will get board with landscaping. I still love my coupons. I spend a lot of time with them. I rarely take them to the store and use them. But I know what I have, where I have it, and where the best place to use it is. Using them would mean going into a store and that is something I don’t really like doing often.

I’m also into Box Tops. I’m raiding everyone’s cabinets for them. I even bought a tool that makes cutting them out easier. It’s in my back pocket. It has the tiniest little blade on it so that the package will not be cut completely through. You never know when you’ll see one and you do not want to rip it. I know everything about box tops. Really I could probably get a job with general mills. I can tell you what product they are on. I know which store is offering bonus box tops. I can match them with my coupons in order to collect more for my money. I volunteer at my children’s school. I collect them and mail them off so the school gets a check. Sucks because its one of my interests. I know it’s here today and it will be gone tomorrow.

My computer is the only interest that has stayed with me over the years. Me and the computer have a love hate thing. I most certainly can not live without it. I hate when they die on me. I over use them for sure. I know them inside and out. I hate calling tech support to get a warranty related part because I know more than they do and they want me to do the shit they are reading from their script. It’s crazy, my hard drive died asshole, send me a new one. You read your script when I mail back this broken one.

My computer is also been a friend to me and help be have that social area in the comfort of my own home. It’s my preferred way of having a friend.

Ramble

I realize I ramble. I don’t like hearing people ramble but I notice (too late) that I ramble too.

True Friends & Fake Friends

How do you tell this? I do not really know. Maybe this is a small part of why I am friendless. A very small, if any. When I was younger I didn’t know who my friends where. Their were people who showed I not see wanted to be friends with me but I noticed the kids begging me to sit by them. They had a reason they wanted me their but the sarcastic liked me. I never saw this. They wanted money or answers. They always wanted something. I have seen many of them in my day. Same with those that would tell you how pretty you looked when you were ugly as hell. I’m pretty now but I was not eye candy back then. I never knew when to trust someone or not.

Compliments

No thanks. I like complements. They make me feel good inside later. At the time I feel awkward. I never know what to say. I don’t know to trust them. I can’t tell if they mean it. I feel twitchier and noticed too much. I don’t know to say, yeah I know? Thanks? Yeah right? Nothing? Ahhhh.

Shut Down

A huge must. Like a computer I must shut down and allow myself to recharge. Sometimes I will need an entire day if I did something really overwhelming for too long. This is expectantly so as an adult. I can not just melt down or through  a fit to remove myself from this overestimation (not sure if that’s the correct word for it but it will do). I have my tricks to get by but I will pay for it later, no avoiding it. If I do not get it you will likely get an adult tantrum or see me throwing a fit.

Lame, Lonely, and Boring

Yeah people think I’m all. Some times I feel them too.

To rebel or to look weird – you must choose one.

I chose to rebel. It was the best choice at the time. I would rather in school the other people see me as the bad ass vs the freak. I did everything I could think of to fuck up, to raise hell, and then I quite school entirely. I took my tests to prove my knowledge on my own time and I passed with flying colors without actually going to school.

Catch Phases

If you say something that is in the line of a movie, I will follow behind you with the next line or a catch phase from it. I don’t like movies but I pick that shit up some how it gets embedded in my head! I don’t watch a lot of movies. My bub and I used to drive my mom nuts. We would watch a stupid show or movie and react the whole movie for weeks. He also has Aspie traits but never Dx and carries a different Dx now that excludes him from the Aspie criteria, I do not share those particular traits he has. While I played to myself a lot I did not actually hear other voices talking to me. I only assumed my own voice in my thoughts! It’s great I’m my best friend!

Kitty Cats

I love my furry friends. My kitties are quit. They do not require much and they are easy to approach. They never judge me or bother me. I never have to find a word to use. They are happy to see me, even when I’m weird. They don’t seem to mind when I push them away for some alone time either. I never need to explain what that face was for or tell them “what’s wrong”. They just get it and I like it!

As a child, I loved cats too. My mom tells me about me hurting them. I remember doing it. I don’t know why I did it other than I was having fun with them and I did not know that it was hurting them or they did not like it. I thought it would be fun for my cat to ride the bike with me, on a rope, by his neck, behind me. He could surely keep up, right!? He did good when I looked back to see how much fun he was having! I think the small hill I when down may have been a bit fast for him. By the time I got to the bottom he was dragging behind with the rope snug around his neck. I drove him back up the hill so I could get the rope loose. By the time I got back up, the neighborhood kids had told my mom, who was now standing in the road with her hair in a towel. Uh oh she never comes out with her hair in a towel. I got my ass whipped. Not fully aware of the reason my saved the cat and I lost my bike and was not allowed to have fun with my cat anymore. 😦 I loved the kitty why was she so mad?! I know now but she did not explain that the cat was not enjoying himself.

Reading, Spelling, Grammar, Time Management

These are my weak spots. I can loose track of time. Going to the store takes me HOURS. If I run in to grab something I take HOURS. I do not know why. Reading I don’t read fluantly. Sounding out words are difficult for me. I had a great teacher when I moved here. She worked with me and told me not to read outloud. She wrote it on my IEP! Wahoo! She then told me when I read to my self to read how I want. If I wanted a word that is spelled “broccoli” to be read as “trees” then read it like that. Nobody would know just as long as I knew the codes of my puzzle.  This was the best advice ever. I can read now. Not great but it gets me by!

Spelling I can spell for shit. This is probably because I can not pronounce the words correctly. Nor do I hear them correctly. I hear them pronounced much different than I would spell them. It’s so similar in talk that I do not notice until I’m  trying to spell it or read it. Thank goodness for spellcheck and kids. Hey hon, how do you spell…!

Them, Too, They, Here, Their, To, There, They’re, Two, Hear… What, the, fuck, ass, hole

That wise guy is a douche. Why is my only question? If I say it that way why must we spell it so many other ways? This shit has be all messed up. My buddy online helped me learn a few tricks but I still mess up on a lot of those tricky spellings.

I know but it’s stupid or why?

So over the years, I have learned a thing or two. I know lots of stuff the world expects. I mess up on somethings. Their are somethings I may never see for what they are. The rest was drilled into me and beaten into my head. I have them stored in my brain somewhere I can pull them back up when I need to scan for them. Many things still do not make sense. I think this is why I feel so different, at least part of it. I also have a hard time relating to stuff and people. I’m sure this has much to do with not understanding the reason.

Hugs are something I do not relate to. I know they are expected. Normal people expect them. I only “give” them at random to those I live with. If I’m approached for a hug, I will give one then push back if it last more than a second or two. I also pat to help get me through it. I would never began to know when to give one and to whom. Hugs are just yuckie and so in your face. Ick!

Eye contact is another. I can give it at times. I can fake it at others. I don’t know why its so important to people. How does that make things better?

Dyspraxia

Movements and Lack of

I have a difficult time getting my body to do what I want it to do. Sometimes I look awkward moving. I feel like my movements are ridged and unnatural flowing. I will some times twitch or make jerky movements uncontrollably. Some times I flip out and randomly and suddenly do a spontaneous movement.

Poor handwriting

My handwriting is crappy. I hate having to write too much. If I write more than a few lines my hand feels tired, a weak stiff feeling. If I write very slowly I can make my writing neater but it makes my hand feel tired more than normal. Other factors that contribute to my writing comfort is the pen I’m using and whether the paper is padded (Stack of papers vs single sheet). The same goes when I’m using scissors. I have a hard time with comfort and keeping them straight.

Lack of Coordination and entire body movements

I have a difficult time judging distance and depth. So I mistime physical things like catching a ball or swinging the bat. My aim is pretty bad. I can not dance because I do not understand the rhythm and because I have a hard time controlling my movement of my upper body and lower body at the same time. I can never remember the steps to certain dances. I remember a few but never in the correct order. Riding a bike is hard for me.

To be continued… (always updating!)

An Older Aspie Mum

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