I’m sure this is title is going to become a series – This is ASD 2 and so forth. Certainly I seem to fuck up enough to give it a decent go…
It’s nearly 6:30 am and I haven’t slept all night. Not even a wink. I feel sick and I was that stressed I popped a few ribs and still can’t breathe properly. Or maybe that is because of stress. To be honest, I can’t be sure.
I had a social altercation last night. I said something and it wasn’t taken well. Maybe they didn’t understand what I was trying to say, or maybe my opinion just sucked in general, but they made assumptions about me that hurt. A lot. And to be honest, I got quite pissed off that people who are so wrong, could be so self-righteous.
I used to know a guy like this – he thought he knew stuff. And then he came to visit us for an hour. One hour, in our home. That was all it took for him to see that he didn’t know as much as he thought he did.
And thank goodness he had the balls to admit that to someone who then told me – because it was that thought that kept me going when I was bawling my eyes out and fighting the urge to just curl up and die.
Yes, that is how I felt. Over a social interaction online with people I have never met. Ironically, they accused me of being too emotional, among other things. That is one thing they got right – I am overly emotional. I don’t apologise for that. It is who I am. I don’t throw tantrums anywhere but here (or at least, I try so hard not to – I *think* I am usually ok in public). My ex used to tell me not to be so emotional the same day he would slam my face into a wall, so yeah – I am a little over being told how and what to feel. My feelings are my own. I own them. I am not going to apologise for having them.
Besides – I am at least articulate.
For the most part.
Anyway, shit happened, and as it’s a private group, I’m not comfortable going into details. But it ended with me trying a couple of times to explain my position more clearly, until I realised I couldn’t. There are some things that just don’t translate well to words. People have to actually see it with their eyes, in the flesh. Goodness knows it’s not the first time this has happened. And while I accept that I suck at socialness, it’s not all on me. Nobody really knows me. Not even my husband. Not anymore. Nobody has the right to make assumptions about why I say what I say – why I think what I think.
The thing is – this keeps happening. And the common denominator is me. So I’m guessing that I’m the one at fault. Except I don’t know what else I could have done. If I shut up so that people liked me, I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror without feeling ashamed. And I try so hard to explain my position and be articulate so that this sort of thing doesn’t happen – but I obviously suck at it.
When I first started realising that my physical disability wasn’t going to go away, and the luxurious employment opportunities of fruit picking were unobtainable, I started making other plans. Other plans that I haven’t shared with anyone, because I would have been embarrassed if they didn’t work out. I’m not telling you now either, because they’re not going to work out. I can’t do it. The whole social thing and me just never did work out. When I first found out I had ASD, I started hanging with parents of kids with ASD – and that didn’t work out. This latest rendezvous of souls typing was the last of a few online groups of people with ASD. Apparently I am supposed to get along better with like-neurological souls. Apparently I still suck.
I always thought that I could make a difference. That my experience in crappy life events gave me an edge of having been there, and my intellect gave me the gift of knowing what I don’t know. All this talent and potential and fate didn’t think to endow me with a little social grace??? Really???
That is just fucking cruel.
Anyway – I don’t know if all this is ASD shit or not. Maybe it’s just me being average and clueless. But regardless of the origin of the events themselves – I know that not being able to sleep because I feel so wound up is just not normal. I’ve done all I can to calm myself down enough to get some shut eye, and after years in and out of mental health, my technique repertoire is quite extensive. Still, it is now nearly 7 am and I think I may be up for the long haul. So I am thinking – this is ASD. I may not be having a meltdown, but my emotions are fucking intense and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.