You know when… it’s time to move on.

You know when you’re so angry with someone you want to rip their face off, but you know you won’t because you never want to see them again?

You know when there are so many things to say and people to tell, that you’re not sure you can even face starting?

You know when something was so much a part of your life and your soul, that you’re not sure if you’re the same person now it’s gone?

You know when there’ve been so many lies, that you don’t know if there were ever any truths?

You know when you wish and hope more than ever that karma is true, so that the universe will resolve things for you?

You know when something was so known, that to realise that it’s unknowable is unthinkable and unbearable?

You know when you’re thinking about some things and someone says, “you look really angry”, and you think, “yeah even I noticed that”?

You know when something is so devastating, that you know you have to find a way to get over it quickly before it destroys you?

You know when you finally see the light, and it’s so bright that it melts all the scales from your eyes?

You know when you feel so many things at once, that you’re not sure if you’re feeling anything at all anymore?

You know when something is so despicable, that it absolves you of any self-blame or guilt you ever, ever had?

You know when you’re so afraid of what people will think, that you tell them you’re ok?

You know when someone is so bad for you, that they highlight all the good in your life, what you do still have, the people who make your life better, the things that are there to look forward to, and it happens at just the right time, at a poignant, life-changing time?

I guess everyone has a purpose.  It’s time to move on.

© Catastraspie, 2013.

Truth lies

Truth lies (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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Superpower envy!

Normally when I think about Aspies and being Aspie, I think of us as the ones with superpowers – being logical, being exact, being effortlessly quirky. However, this week I learned about a neurotypical (NT) superpower that made me green with envy – that of being able to literally sense other people’s emotions.

I knew I had heard that NTs were supposed to ‘know’ how other people felt without being told, but I’d never really thought about *how* they did it. Then when my counsellor was telling me that I seemed a lot brighter and more relaxed than the last few times she’d seen me, she went a bit further.  She said that she feels my emotions – she *FEELS* them!

She can sense extra or different emotions that she knows aren’t hers, in something called counter-transference (which I had also heard of, but also not given much thought).  I don’t think I am quite conveying how much that blew my mind, my eyes nearly went out on stalks.  It was like she’d told me she had x-ray vision and could see through walls.  I can barely detect my own emotions, so the concept of feeling someone else’s, knowing they’re someone else’s, and being able to explain them to the person concerned, seems amazing to me!  It also made it much more real than just being told ‘NTs know how each other are feeling’.

I know counsellors have extensive training, but this is something I would be incapable of doing even after a lot of training.  I might become a little better at not flying off the handle when my partner comes home irritable, and I become irritable because I have somehow ‘caught’ it off him and attributed it to myself (that’s the closest example I could find to think about what it might be like).  However, I could not do what she does and I really wish I could!  I need the step by step walk me through it – tell me, show me or make it obvious.

I spend a lot of time worrying about how other people are feeling, and whether they are ok, so it would really help me to understand and look after those I care about.  If I seem to ignore others’ emotions, it is because I don’t know how they are feeling, not because I don’t care.  This discovery has definitely put to bed anything wonderings I had about whether I should have trained in a clinical role, it would be like trying to teach dancing with no sense of rhythm – possible, but why would you?

Now I’m not saying that all NTs can necessarily perform this feat, well or at all – I’ve had plenty of well-meaning but completely clueless people tell me (incorrectly) how I am feeling (I’m also not saying that no Aspies can do this, because not all Aspies have alexithymia and they might have better spidey senses than me…).  But I do hope that people who can feel others’ emotions (I am deliberately avoiding the word ‘empathy‘, you may have noticed) realise they have a superpower, and don’t assume everyone can do it.  And that they use their powers for good.

Anyway, I know I haven’t written for a while (I’ve written drafts, but seem to have become afraid of pushing the ‘publish’ button), so I thought I would share that with you.

© Catastraspie, 2013.

Deanna Troi

Deanna Troi (Photo credit: Tram Painter)

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Figure 2. Integration paths used in proving th...

Figure 2. Integration paths used in proving the sufficiency conditions for compatibility. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ve been told my partner and I aren’t an obvious match.  We’ve even joked about it ourselves.  He used to say that we were opposite ends of the spectrum, but since he has also now been diagnosed as Aspie, that joke doesn’t work anymore!  We have very different backgrounds and occupations, and apparently to some people those things are important.  I guess they don’t take the time to see the depth of understanding, that we think the same, that we share the same hopes and dreams, how we use our complementary skills to fill the gaps the other one might have.

The other week something happened that to most may have seemed quite trivial, but which was about to have a massive impact on me.  I didn’t have time to make that much fuss, I think I was still processing it.  But before it had a chance to really mess up my mojo, my partner sorted it out.  Not because he was supposed to, or so that it would impress anyone, he did something he would rather not have had to do in order to catch me before I fell.  Without being asked, he just got it.  He just gets me. 🙂

© Catastraspie, 2013.

Fractal Flower

Fractal Flower (Photo credit: Jonathan Gill)

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Why I’m too scared to stop my contraceptive…

If the Too Much Information fairy gives you the ‘icks‘, this might not be the post for you.  If you’re interested in mental health, maybe give it a go.

I’m in my mid-thirties and (to my mother’s horror) have not reproduced yet.  Most people who know me will know I have mixed and contradictory feelings about becoming a parent, which may come over as ambivalence, but is actually a result of the tension between the rock and the hard place inside my head.  What few people know is that in addition to the deep moral contemplations about whether I could cope, whether it would be irresponsible to ‘give it a go’ without knowing I could cope, and the, quite frankly, cold sweats over the combination of my pain sensitivity and labour, I am scared of returning to what my life is like without synthetic hormones in it.

I had two very good reasons for getting a coil fitted, even though I had not had a child (they prefer to fit them in women whose cervixes are not clamped shut like the Stargate Iris): 1. Fairly severe hormone-related migraine; 2. Fairly severe hormone-related depression.  I had unknowingly kept both in check for over ten years by being on the pill, but the escalation of my migraines after I stopped taking it prevented my doctor from restarting it, despite my pleas of accepting any extra risk to get my normal life back.  Because for every three weeks of being and living as myself, I had one week of being and living as someone else.  Someone I didn’t like or recognise, who, between fits of crippling migraines, was trying to dismantle my life.  Ending relationships I liked, taking risks, quitting jobs I liked, drinking too much, trying to get back with unsuitable exes…  Like some sort of mid-life crisis crossed with a teenager whose parents are away for the week and left them in charge of the house with a full drinks cabinet and a debit card.  Then after a week, back to reality – the regrets, the cringing, the ‘what was I thinking’, and sometimes the relief that I hadn’t acted on my very-real-in-the-moment feelings.

After trying various unsuccessful solutions, I somewhat hesitantly conceded to trying a coil, because it couldn’t hurt (actually it really did hurt, but that’s not what I mean).  I can only say that it has been the best thing that ever happened to me.  If it hasn’t saved my life, it has certainly turned it around – stable job, stable relationship, stable stableness, with much more manageable mood changes and migraines.  But now, the time has come to take it out.  It’s been running out for nearly a year.  I’ve been struggling more and more with migraine symptoms, and a gradual increase in low mood.  Even if I have another one fitted, this one still has to come out.  To transition me, I’ve been put on the mini-pill, which from memory didn’t do anything magic before, so I don’t know what I was expecting.

Having said that, what I wasn’t expecting was to be plunged straight back down the pit.  In the space of a few days I’ve gone from being on top of everything, to disliking my job and not wanting to leave the house.  I certainly haven’t missed the crawling into bed after work to cry, where nothing interests or excites me, and I don’t want to see or talk to anybody.  I know it probably won’t last, and that I don’t really feel like this, and that things will go back to how they were, but it feels so real, so hopeless, so permanent.  I try to cling on to my cognitive meta-awareness of my previous happiness.  I KNOW I like my job, this is an illusion.  I remind myself that I am lucky, some people feel like this all the time, or at the very least for months on end, and it must be so hard to keep up the hope that things will get better.

But, this brings me back to my fear, and my childlessness.  If you look at the stats, a fertile couple can still take up to a year to get pregnant.  One whole year.  Even assuming (best case) that pregnancy suited me, and I didn’t get post natal depression afterwards, that’s one whole year of epic unpredictability, and let’s face it, how much damage could I do to my life in a year?  Quite a lot.  I’m not sure it’s worth the gamble.

© Catastraspie, 2013.

I've had a migraine/headache for 6 days straig...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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Stop making value judgements about empathy, please.

I get really uncomfortable when people discuss “empathy” in relation to Asperger’s, and sometimes I get a bit annoyed.  Ok, so I might not intuitively know how you are feeling or what you need, but I care deeply about your wellbeing and have your best interests at heart.  On the other hand, a psychopath might intuitively know how you are feeling, and know what to say, but not give a monkey’s about your wellbeing, or have your interests at heart.  I know which I’d prefer in a friend.  Knowing and caring are two different things, don’t confuse them please.

© Catastraspie, 2013.

English: Marvelous feats in mind reading. Post...

English: Marvelous feats in mind reading. Poster print, lithograph, B&W, 70cm×53cm (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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Giving my all when it doesn’t feel like enough

I am always trying my best, and I always try to please everyone, and I always try to be as good and fair as possible.  That’s why I don’t take criticism well, because I am trying my absolute hardest already and someone is saying it’s not good enough.  People are always saying that my standards are too high and that I am too hard on myself.  But people seem to expect so much of me, and are ready to be hard on me if I don’t do what they want, so what am I supposed to do?

I have a new job and a new manager, and at my first appraisal this week she told me that I am always pushing myself to do more and to do better.  I guess I knew that already, but I didn’t realise that it was unusual or notable enough to be mentioned in an appraisal.  I suppose I thought that everybody does the same and it was pretty much part of life.  It’s not perfectionism, as I am more than happy with a job that is ‘good enough’, provided that it is my best effort.  I am aware that my approach to myself can be problematic when I apply it to others.  With high expectations, clear rules about fairness, and constant striving for self-improvement, I imagine that I am easy to disappoint.

From a distance I appear fluid, but up close I am inflexible, in part due to running at full capacity already.  Push me too much and I break; I’m like an iced-up pond.  No I can’t do that small, seemingly innocuous, favour for you that would make your life easier, not because I am unreasonable, don’t care, or don’t want to help (trust me my desire to help rules my life); it is because I can’t do any more than I am doing right now.  I would have to leave something else in order to accommodate you, which would have knock on effects, and the time it would take me to prioritise and evaluate what I could stop with minimal consequences, is itself time I don’t even have.

If you’d asked me a week ago, it might have been ok.  But in this moment I am the person who took an over-stuffed suitcase on holiday, and with only 10 minutes before the flight home, finds that they forgot to leave room for souvenirs, and has to leave behind some other needed thing in order to make room.  What you see as ‘free time’, a luxury or something to be filled with people and activity, is in fact processing and preparation time, a necessity for me to manage my daily living, and something I need to do alone.

The values I look for in a friend include integrity, honesty, predictability, acceptance, and a sense of fairness and justice similar to my own.  The things that hurt me the most are disloyalty, moving goalposts, irrationality, lack of trust, and seemingly unfair criticism of my genuine actions and efforts.  You get the best out of me when you realise (and perhaps acknowledge) that you know that is what you are getting, at all times.  I don’t do halves.

© Catastraspie, 2013.

Shattered ice

Shattered ice (Photo credit: ellensamuelsson)

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Happy Valentine’s Day… if you do that sort of thing!

Valentine’s Day, it’s a bit of a funny one.  You can’t safely wish someone ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ like you would for their birthday or a national holiday, because for many of my friends it is a negative, irritating or unsettling day.

I find card sending in general quite difficult.  It’s never felt natural, I find it almost impossible to know the right words to put in cards, and I’m bad at judging who to send cards to and when.  On top of that, Valentine’s Day has become so commercialised and compulsory, that it’s almost a bit of a turn-off.

Personally, I’ve not had a proper, anonymous, wondering-who-it’s-from kind of card for nearly 20 years… until yesterday, when I found a gorgeous and mysterious hand-made heart in my in-tray (from a dear friend, which I guessed after looking at her face for only half a second – go me and my non-verbal skills!).

So, surely romance is about being spontaneous, doing something unexpected and at the time that feels right – everything that a planned and fixed celebratory day cannot deliver.  Still, as I sign my actual name at the bottom of my predictable, shop-bought, pre-written card, I find myself wondering why I can’t resist joining in.  Then I write the envelope in funny handwriting and quickly bung it in with the post, just to confuse my partner!

© Catastraspie, 2013.

Valentine's Heart

Handmade Valentine’s Heart

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