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asperger’s, behcet’s, rants, raves, life, love n’ me

10 feb 2010 – good memories

what is it abt the human mind that wants to cling onto the bad things, the negatives, at the end of any journey, and dismiss all the wonderful things that the journey has brought into one’s life?

aspies are no different in this. perhaps even worse inclined. going over and over and over ad nauseum all the mistakes we think we made but hv no idea if we did make them becos nobody is telling us anything anyway, going over and over the pain, the hurt the frustrations… like anyone else but more obsessively, more rabidly, and more confused becos of undeveloped theory of mind…

maybe we just want someone to blame, if not others then ourselves, but blame we must… a human compulsion? perhaps…

but i want to break that terrible vicious cycle in me now… i hv been going crazy processing, and it is making me physically sick… stop it, spunkykitty!!!

we found affection together… we found a way of tender communicating that was nothing like what the too many others offer me now… his music has touched me – shimmering surfaces but with achingly beautiful reverberating depths… he is very sharp, and pushed me to think better, to see things clearer… he is beautiful – i cannot begin telling how so, becos i wld never stop if i did, but it is all etched deeply inside the canvas of my heart… his voice, i found such magic in it… he was far more patient with me than i expected, and it filled my heart with longing for more… i felt acceptance, even if only for the short while that he was fascinated by me, and that feeling i will store in my data bank to pull out again when i need to use a reference in the future… and most of all, he revived my heart from the abyss and i began to hope and reach again… and i am changed by that now… it takes just a soft nudge to send a marble rolling in a whole new direction… and that is what he did for me…

good memories… must not be smothered and smeared by the bad ones… becos they are important parts of our existence, and they give us strength and hope to go out and make things happen…

i love u, pixie face… thank u, for so much…

asperger’s sensory processing in social relationships

“The social world is fluid, ever-changing, the same yet different in subtle ways. Perhaps that is one reason why children and adults with ASD… do so poorly in areas that require extrapolation, interpretation or integration. The brain pathways that facilitate the crossover of category to category are undeveloped or under-developed in the autistic mind. It’s like having a million pages of information on various subjects but not having a cross-referenced index. Compound this scenario by thinking in picture, rather than words, and the possibilities for misunderstanding and miscommunication rise exponentially.” p98 “Unwritten Rules of Social Relationships” by Temple Grandin & Sean Barron

well, here’s a spunkykitty perspective:

“stop second guessing” he would say over and over to her… she tried very very hard to interpret the emotional nuances behind each of those many many words… but in the end, if they had an argument, she felt always wrong… always in a state of utter confusion… never really grasping with any concrete cognition of what he was saying to her… and all the more ashamed, because for someone with her intelligence, why was it so impossible to understand simple verbal / textual communications?… she would break down in tears always… trying to understand but sensorially there was a heavy palpable blanket wrapped around her, a dark rough veil…

all she felt was blindness… a blind bat flying at high speed inside a cave with a faulty navigation system, the sensory radar was not getting feedback other than incomprehensible signals, which in her fear and panic she interpreted as that of aggression, accusation, exasperation and a faint hint of mockery… words become a jumbled mass of patterns translating into meaningless sounds in her head… because she can only understand touch, smell, taste… warm embraces, soft smiles, kisses, a stroke of the hand, and she wld calm down, her radar system wld clear enough so she can then slowly process the sounds coming at her, and make sense of it all…

but who has patience for a bat with a faulty navigation system?…

when she wrote to him the words “i love you”, she had in her own sensorial realm a full data package of a plethora of things, not just warm fuzzy emotions but concrete ideas beginning to take shape, building up a constantly growing and evolving wealth of things she wanted to do for him, with him, plans she wanted to make, sacrifices, adjustments, etc…

but he was confusing to her, not because he intended to play games but just because she didnt understand how to wrap her mind around those texts… without any supportive sensorial data…

and so in all their many conversations… she never quite knew what he meant when he talked abt feelings and emotions… especially his feelings for her… “i love you” now echoes in her head like a searing painful scream, there are no pictures to translate these words into, there are no touches, smells, tastes, no memory bank of data to support the meaning of these words in text… only black texts inside white boxes…

and she will never know… because all she hears now is “we cannot be”… and she has had to leave the porch and bid farewell to the closed door… walking away dressed in nothing but that blanket of confusion inside the silent foreboding…

she tried so hard… and she will keep trying… she will not give up… but she just wishes someone will come along, take her by the hand, hug her tight, and give her a manual with illustrations about how to do all this… actually, more truthfully, she wishes he wld… but she knows, that cannot be… tho she cannot for the life of her figure out why…

asperger mental doodles

ever made random doodles? i do that in my mind obsessively… these days it’s mostly abt a pixie…

does it take courage to admit wrong? to me it does, for i m a proud person, pretending to be strong… and i think u r too…

i was not wrong to love u, but i was wrong in some of the ways i reacted…

we all want to dream dreams… last few days, i went back shopping in ur grand supermart… i wanted to see what it was that drew me to u… that first impulse i had to bridge the divide… and i found it again… i wld hv done it over and over again… i mean, love u…

too late now to say what i shd hv done… do u regret me?… i dont u… i cherish u…

and i miss u…

is it weak to admit this truth?

xxx

so i kiss u over and over again silently in my head

and doodle doodle doodle on…

we all dream

yes… we all dream… but how many of us are willing to get out there to chase these dreams?…

when i found my pixie, i acted upon a deeper inner instinct, a prompting from my subconscious, to seek one who wld share my dreams and me… one with whom i can walk alongside, and listen to his dreams, and find out how we can support each other and help each other to fulfill our dreams… as well as make new ones together…

he had his own list to tick off, i guess… but i am by nature not quite organised with lists and calculations… i am embracing, accepting and heart wide open to possibilities, while at the same time wrestling with fears, dark thoughts, doubts and flitting shadows of past failures… but isn’t this what dreaming and making dreams happen all about?… we are brave not because we do not fear, but because despite our fear we forge on ahead… refusing to be cowed by fear…

i miss him very very much… but i have to tell myself this – he had already written me off, even tho i told him many times over i wld find a way to be with him, to make it happen… hence, my hanging on was becoming meaningless to him anyway… i was no longer the one he declared love to, i became the one who was ready, available for some light entertainment, to fill the gaps while he continued his search for another who’d make him feel the warm fuzzies and who was not so disobligingly far away. he didnt want to face the perils, he calculated the odds and decided… i know, i shd hv bowed out at that point, but the tenacious kitty held on… no fault of his, it was my decision… and in the end it was also my decision to stop standing naked at the door knocking for just a peep inside…

we all dream… that too is his catchphrase… i love this beautiful creature, and i wish him the fulfillment of his dreams… albeit with a deep sorrow that i wld not be there to walk alongside him on his journey… that is the thing about love… i never quite know the length, breadth and depth of the other person’s declared ‘love’ until i know it and finding out can be either exhilarating or completely devastating… we all dream, for love, and we pay the price… but it is still worth the price to pay… and so i will continue to dream… and cherish the memory of my pixie deep in my depths…

and so, my pixie, au revoir… until and unless we meet again, “sleep little one, close your eyes, slumber on in my ocean so deep”…

rocking

rocking… one feature of asperger’s and autism… i seldom do this… nobody knows, not even my family, but i need it when in deep grief… and so  today, i comfort my burning bursting senses, calming rocking… and listening to sounds, like a little swathed child inside a blanket of warm enveloping aural nuances… and rocking… it’s all i can do to stop myself from reaching for you… i dont want ever to show you the way i am crying, weeping at the threshold of namelessness, a silent pathetic wailing in the wind… lest you mock me, call me calimero… and so i must do this… i never wanted cheap comfort… you misunderstood… i told you, i am blind, a bat in the dark, i need to hear your echoes to guide me, where i should fly… and i wanted to go towards you… but you were silent… and i had to stop crashing myself into cold rough walls… and so, i only have your music, in short disjointed clips, to embrace my aching soul, inside which i curl up and hide…

and this image of me, tear stained face, eyes glazed, trembling, whimpering, rocking… is what nobody will ever see

brush strokes

gentle brush strokes… soft delicate fibres… feathery kisses from deft meanders of my wrist… fingers dipped in gold… i never got to paint my dragonflies upon your soft white skin… shades and hues of love, textures of yearning, the fragrance of lilies, vanilla and apricots lingering in my imagination… ringing like a voiceless hum, plucking and strumming strings, reverberating inside emptiness… where are you now?… why did i let go?… i did not, but i let you let go of me… i left the closed door… i grew sad, heartbroken, from knocking upon cold window panes and looking in when the curtains are drawn shut… listening for you, waiting, just for a small sliver of light to emerge… i was slowly breaking… can u understand that, pixie face?… and i will go on alone, because you gave me no choice… every brush stroke, every dip in liquid brilliance, every caressing pressing sweeping dancing flicking turning… will whisper whimper moan your name…

08 feb 2010 – still loving u

TMJ, burning eyes, vertigo, ulcers, arthritis – a behcet’s day this morning in the cold wet muggy grey blanket… wake up bunny, there’s lots u must do today…

it will be frenetic today… i need energy, and i hope the combination of stemetil and simple paracetamol will help get me thru…

but beneath the flurry of activity, i can hear scheherazade softly weeping… tears inside an ocean… breaths in the wind… lost in anonymity… she is still loving u inside the mocking silence… a secret life within the mind… hidden… and perhaps shall remain unspoken… for who wld believe or understand, what he was to her?… and there is none that she wld want to share this with… so she holds the pieces in her heart, shreds of cold blue marble, how they now  cut, but yet she turns and turns and turns them in her hand, bleeding inside her pocket… nobody will know, nobody need know… still loving u, in a secret life…

secret ocean

deep deep deep inside a bottomless ocean… in a secret life… little ephemeral creatures wander, darting to and fro, cutting the dark with flickering neon eyes and diaphanous wings… iridescent cobalt, turquoise… flashing red, dancing vermillion… shimmering ochre… eerie green… singing in silence, haunting lilting tuneless melodies… weaving a symphonic blanket of myriad dreams… nobody knows who they are, except for one, but scheherazade, in all her stories, will not reveal their names… u will hv to dive deep, lose ur feet, exchange ur eyes, learn a different way to breathe, discover the sounds inside soundlessness… but how many wld bother to make the journey?… for every journey like any another, transforms u, and this one demands too much – too much risk, nakedness, fragility, patience, time, space…

“too much for not much” – that was what the pixie said to all her ramblings… “i am no deep sea diver” said bluebeard in mocking contempt… breaking her heart in another realm, where beginnings were sweet and endings forlorn…

how she wanted to take him by the hand, draw him inside… a world undiscovered… but he said to her, “you like to think you are so different but you are just like everyone else”… nay, beloved, he misunderstood, all the words, all their messages to each other, more than five thousand lights now floating in suspended space and time like cold distant stars, all could not express what she wanted to say to him, what she wanted to show to him… no claims of immortality, no false elixirs, nay, non, all she ever really wanted, no speaking, no words, just to take him into her secret ocean… no words no words… but words were all she was allowed to have and words destroyed her… for he, like bluebeard before him, was unwilling to go with her to the bottom of her ocean…

she cannot be revealed in full in the realm of words, but instead she lives and burns, radiating her own mellow brilliance, in nebulous glances, silent gentle echoes, tender caresses, feathered kisses, liquid wings of desire, luminous fires… and love deep deep deep in a bottomless ocean…

bird

there it is again… my little bird… that familiar song… piercing the quiet of the dark blue silence…

i m awake again… it has been awhile since i kept such waking hours… scheherazade has returned… i m not pleased with her resurrection… i wanted her to lie down to rest forever… she has seen too much, borne to much… too haunted…

just said goodnight to craig… staying with me thru the insomnia… while i multitask listening to a lecture by temple grandin… sweet… i m glad for the caring and company, but i will never tell him, how much i miss my pixie… i will never tell anyone i kw… too bizarre… and who wld understand this?.. now a problem arises… i dont want anyone to care too much abt me… it will not be fair… i dont play games for my own comfort… I AM NOT CALIMERO, i dont solicit comfort everywhere… i yearn only for one… but that is no more… he has shut the door… and i must not stand outside knocking like a cheap whore…

parmesan

i love cheese… yes i m somewhat lactose intolerant but i do love cheese… except for dear old cheddar… and i still remember our trip to wales, and a place called cheddar where they made the cheese of course… ummm, i was surrounded by cheese but nothing i liked to eat… no emmanthal, no brie, no cammembert, and no parmesan… just cheddar of all vintages and flavours…

parmesan… i made baked broccoli and shaved some parmesan from a block over it – instant yummy… i dont like broccoli but it is good for me, so the healthfood books say, and it was cheap at the supermart today… well, the cheese made it palatable and oui, miam!

that’s life for me… i guess for everyone aint it?… parmesan… smells rather strong, stinky even, but so good to eat when u get over the initial pong, and it makes things more palatable… for me anyway…

we all need our parmesans… what is yours?

i remind myself every day: why get stuck on impossibilities, why not hope and embrace possibilities?… then i too hv to embrace even this possibility, among all the others that i m so bravely embracing, striking out afar to develop myself, my skills, study, learn, grow and discover, then why not love? i hv a great record as friend, even if only to a special few, that is all i need… so why not the possibility of finding that special one?…

pixie said he did not believe in fate, he believes in making things happen – did he not believe in himself enough to make us happen… or did he just not really love me after all?… i may never know, but i will keep believing… with or without him… just like i went and made things happen, regardless of the blue frog leaving me stranded with words that meant nothing but empty clanging cymbals, and it was such a wonderful learning growing and enriching experience with the sand between my toes, the sound of the sea, and even spending time with two fabulous friends…

oui, d’accord, i will keep going, and stretch afar, regardless… and who knows what wonders i will find for myself?… oh but i know i shall find wonders, becos if we set out to find, we will indeed… i hv parmesan in one hand and all my dreams in another (thanks in part to u for giving me back my hope), who knows where my road will lead me? i’ve turned up in the least expected places…

my pixie, petit garcon, i never closed my doors to u, i just became weary of knocking on ur closed doors that was all… it made me feel sad, and cheap, holding on when u clearly had let go of me, and i didnt want to turn into someone i myself despised… so i had to say good bye… but i m still here… i hv kept my door unlocked for u… find me if u want to, becos i hope u wld…