Yes… No… Maybe?

Are you a good judge of character?

I am an excellent judge of character in other people, but what I don’t know is how much of my behavior is inspired by me. I tend to pick out emotionally unavailable people, anyway, so I wouldn’t know if I was doing something annoying or not because they would not volunteer that information. Therefore, I could not change.

It’s why I had so much empathy for Jon Armstrong during his divorce from Heather (Dooce). He went through absolute hell with her, and I know this because my caretakers are often overwhelmed when I get mentally ill. I go into autistic meltdown and burnout, which is code for “doesn’t play well with others.” So, when Jon said “she told me everything that was wrong and just left so I couldn’t change it” (not a direct quote, I’m paraphrasing), my mirror neurons went off and my heart went out to him. Mentally ill people can be so ungrateful, but it’s not because they are actively trying to be emotionally abusive or narcissistic. It means that they’re in so much pain they can’t see past it.

I don’t blame Heather for leaving, either. Her feelings are absolutely valid. I just know from experience that perception is not reality. Whether what Heather saw was accurate or not is missing the point. There is no wrong feeling, there are consequences for acting on them. Depression, particularly bipolar, blows everything out of proportion because sometimes you’re depressed and sometimes you’re manic. You are not seeing what things are really like, you’re seeing them in a fun house mirror.

Whether I’m a good judge of character depends on when you meet me. My perception is different depending on my mood, and that’s not a good thing, but it’s real. It’s my work to do, because mental illness is not the whole answer. It’s developing coping mechanisms and safety nets. Depressed and anxious people do not actually believe that we are loved and we are not a burden on our families or society at large.

The hardest part of a mental processing disorder and/or mental illness is that you’re either slow or crazy, take your pick. I’ve never been called “slow” mentally, but I pick up facial expressions and microaggressions easily. I know what emotions look like on people’s faces and even when my perception is wrong, my judgment on other’s motivations/moods are generally correct. This is because in order to understand a conflict, you have to understand both people’s interests and what motivates people to get closer to you vs. further away.

Most of this is through looking approachable, not being nice. Nice is not kind. Those are two completely separate things. “Nice” says “no, we’re all good” while you continue to distance yourself from me. I noticed discrepancies between words and actions quicker than others do when the words are actually coming out of their mouths, because since my intuition on what I’m going to do is rock solid. I don’t make bad leaps by judging character, but by noticing the hypocrisy and seeing what happens if you call people on it. If they’re angry you noticed a problem and want to talk about it, that’s the biggest red flag you’re ignoring if you’re a people pleaser who lives not to rock the boat.

Most abused people exhibit this, particularly those who have been emotionally abused young by people who are supposed to take care of them. For instance (this didn’t happen to me, just an example), children raised by alcoholic parents are programmed to invert the dynamic. Boys are just as susceptible to becoming a parental figure as girls, though with girls it generally comes faster because women are designed societally to be people pleasers, anyway. But I know this to be true from the number of “mama’s boys” I’ve met, both straight and gay, who weren’t babysitting their mothers because they just wanted to do so; they realized their mother or father couldn’t take care of themselves and didn’t want to watch them struggle, because watching them struggle means that they’re angry and absolutely will take it out on them.

My stepfather is a perfect example. His mother was a horrible alcoholic and actually died from it in a roundabout way. She didn’t live long enough to die of cirrhosis. She was on a drunk and passed out in the snow. She didn’t wake up….. and obviously, he married my mother. The classic image of a “mama’s boy” is not him. That being said, he had to grow up fast. Running a household was nothing to him because he’d been doing it since he was five.

Again, he ran the household as a child until she died in the snow and someone (I don’t remember if it was his family or a neighbor) just found her. I cannot imagine that kind of trauma, and I don’t want to try.

Everyone is fighting something, which is why I believe there are no red flags. I have never met anyone, particularly a woman, that wasn’t fighting massive trauma. Absolutely all of my girlfriends have been sexually assaulted, more than not raped in childhood. That’s not an anomaly where I just went out and picked women who were abused. I have experience with abuse because again, ALL women. All of ’em. Every woman you know has at least a creepy story about a man, and in this culture it’s surprising when you get off that easy if one in four women is raped at least once in their lifetime.

In fact, for most of history it wasn’t rape if you were married to them.

Some mothers are even vicious enough to tell their children that they’re a product of marital rape and make their kids walk around with that knowledge until they’re adults and start unpacking it. It gets worse before it gets better. I cannot stress this enough. You will recover, but at times it feels like you should give up.

But here’s the thing….. during the Renaissance, beautiful statues were often finished in wax to cover mistakes. This is a double-edged sword as an illustration when it comes to PTSD. The first is that the statues weren’t any less beautiful. The second is that when finished with wax, it didn’t mean that the flaw wasn’t still underneath. What you get out of healing is what you put into it. Are you using the wax to cover your wounds, or are you examining the dead spots in your emotions? Are you using the wax as filler not because you are ignoring pain signals, but because you’re rerouting them?

A statue without wax is called “sin cera.” “Without wax.” A statue sin cera was incredibly rare….. another truism because you can make a statue sin cera, but no person ever could be. It is the nature of being animate, fully human and fully divine.

The sculpture you start carving after abuse looks completely different than the one you were carving before, because you don’t have the same thought processes anymore……. however, you do not get a new piece of marble. Maybe you’ve chipped more away. Maybe you’ve taken the “clippings” and rearranged them into something new.

People who have been abused and then are driven to success sometimes drive me insane because they’re so insistent they’re fine. Meanwhile, it’s not that they’re so perfect, it’s that everyone has learned to tiptoe around them. They’re not fine in terms of their emotions, but they don’t notice because why would they? Everyone around them is FINE.

Meanwhile, families who have someone with PTSD become the planets revolving around the sun…. in effect, nurturing it and asking it to warm them when they’re not capable of it. If they’re scared of their emotions, they’re scared of yours.

A lot of the women in my life are or have been a big deal. The two most successful women I know are complete wire monkeys, both raped in childhood and driven to control their entire universes so it never happens again……. not realizing that by trying to control everything, that includes controlling the people around them.

The planets orbit the sun, completely dependent on its behavior and not daring to deviate from the pattern that’s currently working….. but it won’t forever and instead of calling bullshit, the people around “the sun” adopt new ways of trying to please to avoid emotional injury.

Are you people-pleasing because you’re naturally programmed to give all of yourself away, or are you giving all of yourself away to try and mitigate damage?

I don’t know. Sometimes I’m a good judge of character. Sometimes I’m not. It’s especially wishy-washy in trying to determine my own. I am selfless and giving to an enormous degree, but not so much that I’d be willing to do anything to get love. But that’s a relatively new development. In the past, I was so afraid to lose a connection that I just wouldn’t do it. I would cower in fear instead of saying “this is bullshit. You don’t get to control my feelings in addition to yours.”

Whether or not the person listens is the best judge of character there is, because whether you’re wrong or not, your feelings still deserve to be heard. I am the worst person in the world at giving up in relationships, because I believe that certainly there must be a combination of words that will unlock you and make you open up, but it has never worked with a woman who has been raped.

Ever.

But that’s a perception with empathy, not a judgment call. The most upsetting thing is that statistics don’t lie and culture doesn’t change.

But you can.

The Mundane and the Insane, to Riff on Irving Stone

Tell us one thing you hope people say about you.

Some days, I talk about how much I love Diet Coke and cartoons. I talk about that to not talk about the ways in which I’ve emotionally abused people because that’s “how I was raised…” Not by my parents, but by someone who became a parent figure because my mother checked out. You cannot convince me that she didn’t let it continue because she didn’t want to raise a lesbian daughter, and you cannot convince me that despite my mother’s warnings, I got hurt anyway. However, it is a truism that the more you tell a story, the more it loses power. Supergrover is coming to mind less and less because I realize there is nothing more I can do except turn my attention. She’s going to be whomever she wants to be, and I can’t help that. If she wanted to make anything better, she would have come to me long before now.

Funny thing about that, though. Once I said something healthy and would return her fire with healthy boundaries, she wasn’t interested in me. She’s not a narcissist, so she wasn’t using me as a dopamine source…. but she only knew how to answer rage with rage, so when I answered it with “I love your anger- let it out,” she was done. It let me know that we were always going to fight like that, because I did the work and she didn’t. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have had the willingness to walk away from someone I truly, deeply love. She doesn’t understand me, because she doesn’t understand her. When she says she wants to understand her, she will- and not before.

She also won’t learn it from me. My breaking her trust was the beginning of something for her, because we had to resolve our conflicts in order to go back to loving each other as rabidly as we do when other people hurt our friends. If she learns like I do, someone else will say something that triggers her back into my letters, and they will make sense to her in a way they didn’t before, because it’ll be the same thing I’ve been saying for 10 years, but it’ll look different coming from someone else because she’s not attaching her preconceived notions about me onto their words.

It’s something she will really love learning. She’s a people pleaser, but not at work. That’s because she can negotiate logical boundaries and gets lost with emotions. If she was in the military, she’d do very well because she’s a perfectionist. If she was a therapist, she’d burn out quick because in addition to being a boss, she’s also a people pleaser because her reality is just as fractured as mine was; I started my own therapy- my blog more than my psychologist. I am almost solely responsible for my recovery and not because I had a shitty doctor or anything. It’s that there is no possible way to recover from PTSD on one hour a week. Just like having diabetes, the doctor doesn’t hold your hand every day. You go in for appointments, but they can’t manage you every moment they’re not there.

I have been startlingly self aware since I was a child, but I didn’t have the confidence that I do now. I didn’t say things like:

  • That’s mean. Please rephrase.
  • I am too tired.
  • It’s not that I don’t love you, it’s that I need space. Please go away and leave me alone for X amount of time. We are all good, I’m overstimulated.
  • I am not lazy, I am autistic.
  • I am not flaky, I have ADHD.
  • AuDHD is a lifetime gig, and we’re going to have to manage it because otherwise, you’re going to get angry and resent me your whole life if you’re my partner.
  • If you cannot handle any of these things, you cannot be in my life.
  • I am responsible for my actions, but I’m not responsible for yours.
  • I am not “throwing things back in your face. You don’t want to admit that you do the same behavior repeatedly.”

The reason I drop people quickly is that I have good boundaries. If I’m not happy, it’s because I tolerated something I didn’t like, some times for years and years. I am using my own examples to bring insight to others on why they do what they do………..

laying out my own flaws and failures from the mundane to the insane…….knowing joy does that, too. If there’s anything I hope people say about me, it’s that it works.

So Much More

What could you do less of?

I could do less of a lot of things.

I could do less writing. It would be worse for my portfolio and better not to spend so much time lost in my head. I am not sure I get a choice on that considering how much quiet I require, but I do recognize that my mind is a busy place and I get lost there. I have said this before, but there are times when autism makes me feel lost to the rest of the world, and I wouldn’t have said that before because I have had that constant feeling since I can remember, I just didn’t have a word for it.

Because, I mean, of course I’m not autistic. I did not equate myself with other autistic kids because my school wasn’t mainstreamed, therefore I rarely saw any. There is also more and more evidence that ADHD and Autism are missed in many, many women because of the way we were raised. I didn’t look like a “special” kid, so I wasn’t. You get on YouTube and you find out that there is no “look” to autism. I do not have mental retardation because of autism, and those two things are conflated often. Autistic people are either savants at coding or developmentally delayed in popular culture. What is missing in the zeitgeist are regular people who also have that processing disorder. The kind where some doctors say, “I’m hesitant to give you a diagnosis because I don’t want you to be unable to see outside it.” Trust me, this is not just for patients. New parents of autistic children are equally shellshocked as me.

What is intimidating is receiving the same amount of information as autistic parents because it’s a lot easier to make decisions for someone else than it is to make decisions for yourself. You don’t have demand avoidance in mentally healthy parents because it is an inborn trait, the reflex to nurture. A baby’s cry affects men and women differently, but they both respond at the drop of a hat if they see a child in trouble and they are in any way parental.

It is so much harder when you realize the child you’re trying to keep alive is you. Like, in middle school there were not consequences this dire for my Tomagotchi. I’m older and less flexible, more demand avoidant because I’ve either been guided away from handling because I didn’t know I was autistic and didn’t realize that ADHD gives it to you as well (not mentioned in any of the layperson’s ADHD books I’ve read). I also didn’t know that if you have it pathologically, that is also part of the autism spectrum, and because I haven’t been diagnosed, I don’t know which is which. Pathologically Demand Avoidance is somehow part of autism and its own thing. Basically, you get treatment. If it doesn’t work, it’s PDA.

Social stigma around figuring out your processing disorders and mental illness is big and difficult because you get it on both sides. From neurotypical people, there is a constant need to reassure you that things aren’t that bad, you’re not autistic (because in their minds what I am saying to them is worlds apart from what they hear), you’re just too hard on yourself and if you X, then……… Their answers are not my answers because I am incapable of their thought process.

It is not a matter of pity on my end, it is a matter of acknowledging disability and illness. There’s a huge difference between acknowledging something and “making it your whole personality.” No one has said this to me, I just know I talk about it a lot because that’s what I’m reading/watching right now- educational videos. It’s not that “it’s my whole personality,” it’s that you didn’t come here on leg day, capiche? I am obsessed with getting the diagnosis of my neurodivergence right, not fitting the facts to a certain outcome. There is such a thing as ADHD with autistic traits, and there is a lot of overlap between the two diagnoses, so it’s not always clear which is which. I already have an ADHD diagnosis. The “huge leap” is in your perception, not my reality.

Here is the other very serious thing. I am the same amount of different now that I will be after I’m officially diagnosed, or after I’m told I have ADHD with autistic traits. ADHD is not valid in the way that autism is, because in other people’s minds, an autism diagnosis is devastating and if your child is ADHD, it’s bad, but at least it’s not fucking autism…………. when the reality is that the introverted form of ADHD can be just as debilitating. It’s invisible because it doesn’t come with physical symptoms and again, a processing disorder that doesn’t affect the development of the brain so that you can’t figure out how a person can be so smart and so stupid at the same time. But that’s neurotypical perception/stigma, not what’s really happening.

For instance, women’s voices were largely absent from ADHD research because to the researchers, ADHD became invisible in people without hyperactivity. People often don’t see autism because I do not have extraordinarily regimented sensory issues. I do not have a meltdown when I touch or taste something unfamiliar, so therefore I cannot have sensory issues. Some people have autism but do handle sensory perception well. Some autistic people are mentally delayed and some aren’t.

High IQ autistic people have two archetypes in society…… the manic pixie dream girl and “Comic Book Guy.”

I know what you’re thinking. Shut it.

No, I don’t identify with Comic Book Guy at all……….. eyeroll.

Now that everything is so expensive, I feel like coders who live in their mother’s basement are the luckiest bastards on earth. They live with people who love them on a salary that really helps everyone while acknowledging that they- are in some ways- able to take care of themselves and also not. I feel a jealousy toward programmers that I don’t feel in other areas of my life because they created the standard that all their sensory issues being tamped down was critical to the way they work and no other department in an office functions that way…… so if you’re autistic and not a programmer you’re just shit out of luck.

For instance, lights are usually very low in a server room, as are sounds. A server room has the same decibel level as a library. I live like Mr. Robot, because CPTSD and AuDHD being comorbidities means that I am constantly more comfortable with less stimulation through sound and more information through sight. Loud noises and bright lights are anathema to all of those things. I do not have a problem with flashing lights, but office fluorescents. I have a problem with prolonged eye contact, because sensory information becomes too much; I also become self-conscious about my eye drifting. It’s why I’m much better about maintaining eye contact when I’m wearing my baseball cap. I don’t think it’s much of a distraction, but my brain believes it is.

I could do less caring about my appearance, and so much more. By caring about my appearance, I could do more in terms of skin routines and putting on makeup once in a while when I actually feel like it. By not caring about my appearance, I mean constantly worried about how I look in front of other people because it’s not whether I’m attractive or not, it’s whether my social masks are working.

If I don’t call attention to my disability, you won’t notice it and I’m grateful until we get close enough that we can’t social mask around it anymore. It gets more intense with more connection, because social masks fail on a whole other level when you live with someone. I have never had a partner that truly understood me, partly because I’m a complicated case psychologically and partially because I didn’t have the tools to express myself.

You know what I also couldn’t do? I also couldn’t say, “I know you’re feeling personally attacked, but here’s several videos of other people explaining how their symptoms affect them so that you know I’m not just ‘using my disability as an excuse.;” The “motherfucker” is implied. I do not have a problem taking responsibility for my behavior as it is sometimes problematic, but I draw the line at seeing only my behavior as problematic and not acknowledging that things don’t happen in a vacuum. I can say that moving to DC was the last thing that happened, but Dana put us on the road toward divorce originally because of my reaction to her DUI, not blaming her because she got one. There is a cause and effect to everything.

In short, I can take responsibility for developing a wandering eye in a relationship not built for it, but I will not take responsibility for Dana’s drunken mistake that changed my whole sensory perception of life.

You are not the same person at work after a full night’s sleep, and one of the things that would have saved our marriage in retrospect was me putting my foot down and saying, “you’re on your own, kid.” This does not mean me stopping helping her. I mean forcing her to quit her job and get a different one if her boss didn’t move her schedule. That taking her to work in the middle of the night while holding down an office job would bring about destruction for me because I am not capable of it. I got fired from Marylhurst for the same reasons I got fired at Alert Logic. Especially when I don’t sleep at night, I cannot listen and talk at the same time, nor listen and write things down. The reason that transcribing the constitutional law class was easy is because I was transcribing, not taking notes. I was not having to constantly make a decision on what was important to write down and what wasn’t. I got that on my own, by going back and reading what I’d written down, faster to process because I’d heard it once.

I cannot blame Dana for her mistakes, but I can blame my reactions to them. Dana getting a DUI doesn’t make my words and actions okay, or let me off of any kind of hook. I am acknowledging that in a relationship, I only own half.

The problem came in thinking that my issues were so much worse than Dana’s. That Dana needed help and I was just a bad person. There was no medical explanation for why I did what I did, so it was worse….. and yet, there was a medical explanation. I was overloaded and overwhelmed, depressed and anxious except for when I was hypomanic and at no time able to regulate those things. So much was said without thinking, which is why there’s such a disconnect between my thoughts and the words I used in the heat of a moment.

With autism, the heat of the moment is everything. If your words are charged, we will pick up all 7,000 subtexts and our brains are immediately overloaded because we don’t know how to respond. This is why it’s easier to communicate with a neurodivergent person in text. It’s a balance, though, because we have to get to know your voices well enough to have context for when we leave it out. For instance, I think our conversations would have gone a lot differently had I known in the early years that hearing Supergrover’s voice feels like watching molasses drip……. she is a velvet hammer. I might not have been so quick to attribute rage if I’d known she was so laid back in person. She does not portray that through text. In text, she’s strident and it’s “pull yourself up from your bootstraps.” I only get frustrated when she can’t see I’m barefoot.

I choose to be butt hurt over this right now, while it’s happening, because what I know to be true is that my history is to save it all up until I explode, and as Supergrover herself has said, my anger isn’t helpful. She’s right, and in a lot of cases it’s due to lack of coping mechanism. In others, it’s autism and I can’t work around it. That’s because coping mechanisms fail when sensory overload is happening.

This relationship was a new level of sensory overload because we are both so different from each other. I cannot blame anyone else for anything, but I can get it all out so that I can look at it and see what I can do about my own situation.

I think more about it now, so that I know I can and will do less later.

I could do a lot less thinking about all of this. But it wouldn’t turn out the way I think it would. I would be even less able to regulate my emotions.

I cannot do less of that.

It’s Hard to Quantify

What positive events have taken place in your life over the past year?

This year I started taking care of me for the first time in my life, ever. People who learn a little bit about boundaries install them with spikes, because they don’t know balancing language yet. So many, many times have I been fed this year on a meager emotional diet, because someone would cross a boundary and alarm I’d never had went off. There has never been anything loud enough in my mind to say that my opinions are valid, because I get intimidated and fold easily………………… in person.

On paper, I am not anticipating someone else’s reactions, so I come across as judgmental when I actually want your input/correction, I’m not dictating to you what our situation might be. My work to do is to learn how to control my autistic brain symptoms, like “I have explained this six times and it hasn’t resulted in any change at all, so that means I only have to explain it ten more ways and we’re golden.” I will absolutely argue with a signpost……… in text. If a waitress served me soup with glass shards, I’d be so mad I’d only leave a 20% tip.

I talk a lot about the first blush of excitement on both ends at Supergrover and I meeting each other, and it’s those memories I focus on when I feel the kind of desperation you absolutely will not admit to anyone, I am fine……… meanwhile, your eyes are rolling out of your head because you’ve thought I was an idiot about it for months why has this taken so long dear Jesus get a life…….. and actually, that’s not true at all. It’s how it feels to write out pain. It doesn’t change all at once. It changes a little every day.

I do not have any interest in telling our story as if it is our facts. No, they are only my facts, and I am a hundred percent certain that our stories are different, but I will never know to what degree. I’ve guessed at the extremes and the middle and been wrong every single time. I just don’t do that anymore. I don’t have it in me. I cannot drag a relationship kicking and screaming into the light when I only own one half…… and if it sounds like I’m holding myself up as some kind of beacon, that’s not it at all.

We fucked each other up nine years ago. Our relationship shouldn’t be so dramatic and toxic all the time. It’s not good for either one of us as we both sound like Dorothy Sbornak and Ouiser Boudreaux in text. We are both first children. We fight until someone is bleeding, because we are not used to losing…….. and I’m laughing about it now, but believe me when I say I have seen Oppenheimer and I didn’t even know it was a movie until recently.

I am just as filled with rage as she is. We’re The Holy and the Moly because one day I’m the bomb and she’s the detonator……….. and then she’s got the big red button. We installed them in each other quickly and use them to great effect. After we fight, I will say “this is what hurt.” She won’t. She says, “I was licking my wounds.” I wish that just once this year she could have seen my face when I read it. If there are moments that make me want to reach through her phone and hug her, it’s lines like that.

Autistic people are not here to be nice, because we do not have all the social masks involved in sensitive situations. I used to be very, very practiced at it, but I’m not in front of parishioners all the time anymore. As I’ve been away from being a preacher’s kid, it has been a slow, painstaking process to unmask. Everyone does the public/private thing to a degree. There is a truly marked difference in “show mode” and “autism.” Most people are trying to hide their emotions a little bit, certainly. No one wants to ugly cry if Oprah’s not handing out Beetles. Autistic people cannot regulate their emotions like neurotypical people, and we can catalogue their behaviors by the hundreds, but what we cannot do is replicate them. This is because the reason we thought you had the reaction was different than why you actually had it.

Impasses are frequent because “I just don’t get it,” and I have empathy for how tiresome that is. I really do. That’s because if your’e exhausted, you’ve experienced a few hours of my symptoms and I live this way. Not said to shame you, just to say “I need empathy here.” There are other areas in which I’m stronger than my friends and we trade off….. no one is ever getting the short end of the stick……

And unfortunately, reminding Supergrover of that didn’t go over so well because I don’t think she was picking up what I was putting down. She told me several times some version of “why do you think it’s everyone else’s job to fix you?” First of all, that’s a huge red flag. If you tell someone up front that you have a disability like bipolar or whatever and that’s what they say, that’s not the healthiest response ever. The reason I ask people for help is that they’re the first person to ask me. In this one case, the tables were turned where I needed help first….. so, of course it felt like I “was the one who always needed help.” But it’s 10 years later and those words just don’t hit the same way anymore. Healthy people do not shut you down every time you want to have a dialogue. What would have been perfectly healthy is just to walk away for both of us, and yet neither of us did it. I don’t think we meant to be in a relationship this crazy for 10 years, but those tickets are non-refundable.

In some ways, I felt like it was really hard work and deservedly so. Most friendships like ours end quickly because of who we are jointly and severally. I am sure this is conjecture, but it seems to be that the key words are “friendships like ours.” What I see as trying for connection, she sees as “telling her every bad thing she’s ever done.” Sometimes when my sensory environment is turned up to hell, I do come across like I’m nitpicking. Because it’s all text, she can’t hear my tone of voice and she doesn’t ask for any clarification. So, whether I intended to provoke ire or not, I will have done it.

I have never wanted that for her, and I had to learn not to want that for me. I stepped all over her boundaries because that’s how it works in my world. If you troll someone, they’ll leave you alone. We just both met our match and wrote checks with our mouths that our asses couldn’t cash. I will never be as strident as she is in person. She will never be as over emotional as me in text……………… but not because she’s not capable of it.

She’s my fairy tale author girl. As in, not the author of my fairy tale but the writer friend I have who is interested in creating fairy tales for actual children. I keep telling her that “50 Shades of Gray” was so terrible I didn’t even read the whole first page, but it did prove to me that either one of us was capable of writing a book on our phones while using public transportation. I have more time in a day to dedicate to it, but I will never write something akin to the main quest of Skyrim, and she could. I don’t know what her future holds, but I do know that if she wrote a book, she’d sell a copy.

What I know is that if I keep talking, one of two things will happen. The first is that repetition gives the story less power. How do I know it has less power? When I can write essays like this and I don’t end up sobbing so hard I can’t see what I’m writing anymore. There’s so much to cry about, really, that doesn’t have anything to do with her. It’s universal. You lose someone significant in your life, and you adjust- but I do not know anyone who is downright happy about it.

It would also be easier to focus on this prompt at the end of the month than it is right this moment. Finnish Independence Day is always craptastic because it’s trying to replace the parts of my heart that are black with the lights and music of Helsinki. Finlandia, yes, but also Finlandia conducted by Esa-Pekka Salonen. The black parts of your heart will respond to music if you let them.

That’s it. That’s the thing I’ve learned this year. The black parts of my heart will respond to music when I let them. This means that I can author the destruction of someone I 100% regret having to cut out of my life because I didn’t have any other choice. I could no longer make decisions about the health of the relationship based on what only I thought, because what happened on a large scale a few months ago was happening all the time in conversation.

We hadn’t talked for a few months, so she was reading me without responding….. months of posts in which we weren’t checking the stories we were telling ourselves, and that always feels like “WE WERE ON A BREAK.” That’s what makes our bond cemented for life. She has editorial control and I’ve told her that. She also cannot stop herself from reading because she thinks that I’m out to get her……. or does she? Because she says it frequently and then she’ll take a line I thought about for an hour, just slaved over to capture her perfectly, and send it to me with a “thank you for this.”

The main reason this whole thing is important to me is that I have never been this person before. I wouldn’t be as safe and secure in who I am now if she hadn’t been sure of me first.

What makes her unique in my life is that she managed to get past all the barriers I’d set up. All the social masking that didn’t make me look like an alien, all the catering I do to other people to make sure everyone is focusing on having a good time and not the fact that I am standing here, damaged, in a corner because I don’t want to get my crazy spatter on you. I have never been that person on the outside. Why I don’t always come off as depressed, anxious, ADHD, or autistic. It’s all just a bunch of spaghetti code in there.

One day I’ll reach “eof,” and I know it’ll compile……………….. even when there are so many lines I wish I could have commented out. But that’s the thing, right? The first step to finding things that do serve you is letting go of the things that don’t. I wish I could say a lot of good things happened this year, and I know they did in small measures. But mostly this year was about learning to deal with pain and rage. How much I’d social masked away all of those feelings as a child determined not that my emotions were bottled, but how many six-packs.

In a lot of ways, all my social masks failed at once, and then I didn’t know who I was anymore. I had to build myself back up from 12 on, adjusting to new emotions that weren’t there before and mapping out the dead spots. If you have not done this in yourself, it is backbreaking emotional work and depression/anxiety medication make it easier, not easy.

This year I’ve felt infantilized more and bothered less. That is because I do not have a world-ending autistic meltdown if someone doesn’t like me. I just find out quickly who my people are in those cases and move on, because I’m past the point in my life where I want to justify anything to anyone, because I have enough belief in myself to know that I have limitations and to ask for help when I need it. People rush to parent the people with mental processing differences and psychiatric illness, and I have to anticipate it. I have to deal with it, because there’s nowhere I won’t. That’s a social mask I do have, though, because it feels very much like apologizing for your existence because you’re queer or physically disabled.

The hard part is being a realist without being too negative because I can control my environment, but only to a point. I do not like telling people I’m a Christian anymore because it invariably ends up being an image of me in their heads that just doesn’t compute. Either I’m a bad Christian because my exegesis is bad and God didn’t really mean all that stuff about inclusivity, helpfully written right there in the RED LETTERS……………… or their God is about the letter of the law and not the spirit; homosexuality does not occur in most, if not all animal populations……. it is a demon to which I am solely responsible for its care and feeding. If I just stopped queer behavior, I’d stop being queer.

Gay men are widely accepted as priests in the Catholic Church because especially in the third world, that’s where you go not to get bullied. Most families know when they’ve got a priest on their hands by kindergarten. Please know that this is in no way trying to be shady. Gay men are pushed toward being priests because of their sensitive/more effeminate natures, because then their families don’t even have to meet the boyfriend. They’ve been eating at his table for years.

I’m just trying to let myself evolve, and thinking about systemic issues makes me happier than thinking about my own progress or lack of it, because I have so much that’s up in the air and little that’s solid.

That’s just how it is in a rebuilding year. Next year might be one, too, but this is not to be taken lightly. I cannot be my authentic self until all the pieces are together, or at the very least, scattered on the table in front of me.

Pieces, for me, are thought fragments. The most positive thing in the world that happened to me this year, above all else, was that in January of course I knew I’d found a flawless diamond in my beautiful girl……………… but by December, I realized she had, too.

This Should Be Short, and Yet It’s Not

Name your top three pet peeves.

Before we get started today, I finally found the perfect keyboard for me. When I use it, I feel like Jason Moran (jazz pianist). The touch feels like it’s made to help me go faster. It’s kind of like having a new car, honestly. Like, there is a big difference in the feel of an accelerator on an old Toyota and a new BMW. With the brand new Bimmer, you’re going to touch the accelerator and be a quarter mile down the road. It’s nice to have a keyboard that is not in the way of being able to jump in that fast. The amount of force on the key to make a letter is almost negligible, but it doesn’t feel cheap. It’s that middle of the road touch between mechanical and laptop. If I had to name the biggest sensory issue I have in life, it’s the touch of a keyboard. I think this is because I know how important it is. I would not know that touch was important if I hadn’t lived with a pianist.

Because of my mother, I have words to express what I need out of a keyboard in the first place.

The prompt today is about pet peeves.

My biggest one is that my housemate has a maid and I don’t. I am terrible at keeping things organized, so my room is a mess and I white knuckle through the common areas because since we have a housekeeper, it is manageable. The problem is the six days a week when our housekeeper isn’t here. There are three of us, and only two of us help. Only the entitled one shares a bathroom with me, so I am constantly cleaning up after her. The way she does this is to say that because I have touched something, she cannot touch it. She comes from a culture that does not accept homosexuality and pretends that it is contagious and I am unclean. I have been laughing at her for nine years now, and it’s not funny anymore. I cannot beg her to do it, I cannot get my landlord to make her do it, because my landlord has talked to her about it also for nine years. So, if she washes her hair in the sink, it’s my problem. Has been for nine years….. because I’m gay and that makes sense to her.

Because it’s been so long, I feel trapped between “this is unacceptable” and “this is my weird little family.” There is no way I do not have empathy for someone so twisted in their world outlook that they make me treat me this way. It’s not anger. It’s pity. I look down on her because she does clean up after our guests whether she brought them or not. I say that her culture dictates homosexuality as unclean because it sounds like very Karen behavior, and she’s the furthest thing from it. I cannot see it all the way around as entitled behavior because she’s been taught since she was a little girl that I should be in jail or dead. Therefore, I can understand and be angry all at once.

Another big one is not responding to emotion with emotion. I do not ever want to hear the phrase “you should have known” ever again. I am out of the anticipation business. I cannot be the expert on how I felt and how you felt, too. Because then you’ll berate me when I haven’t anticipated correctly. You have to be strong enough to communicate your needs with me. It is only my job to become emotionally flexible enough to hear them without reacting in autistic meltdown. It is not pretty and I always regret it. Always. However, now I have new ways to learn coping mechanisms. I don’t want people to feel like they have to walk around on eggshells, the way I feel when I’m trying to guess how to make our relationship better.

My answer for this pet peeve is time. I need to hear/read what you think and walk away. Let me have time to process, because I will look at it differently if I change my environment and come back. I do not trust my first reaction. Please always remember that about me and when I say I need time, let me go. I was emotionally abused as a child. I have trauma reflexes. That means my first reaction to everything comes from that place, and I don’t want to operate that way anymore. I react with autistic meltdown because you’ve interrupted my reality so violently that my environment feels different in panic. I often react with panic because I have been corrected so much about every little thing that I feel like a dog surrounded by an electric fence in most relationships. In anxious/avoidant, the avoidant person will move the target to avoid confrontation, so you cannot please them. Meanwhile, the anxious person feels like they can’t do anything right. Every relationship I’ve ever had has been like this to some degree, because I am the common denominator.

If you have trauma reflexes, after the trauma is over you’ll gravitate toward one of those extremes, and they marry each other constantly. That’s because one of you is social masking an abuser and one of you is social masking an enabler. The younger you are when abuse occurs, the more that pattern is ingrained. The person you really are is hidden underneath those trauma reflexes, because you built them to protect the bubble an abuser creates with you. Everything about how I react as an adult is based on how I reacted as a child to hearing secrets that were too big for me. I have learned that my first instinct is to protect myself from violence. If when I express needs, I am met with violence, I will do anything to avoid saying something and I become part of the problem. So much of writing to Supergrover all those years was learning how to walk in the world in a different way.

Because she’s a boss, her thought processes got under my skin quickly. Every time she got angry at me, I made a note of how and why. It wasn’t to throw things back in her face. It was, “I’m a nobody and she’s not. What can I pick up here?” She’s also not a politician, so she could give a fuck if she wins and influences me. 😉 If she goes back and reads my blog, she will see that it’s just a collection of things she’s said in new contexts, and so many of those lines I got when she was adding new definition to furious. The reason I love her so much is that I find lines that flatten me in letters that are meant to convey annoyance, rage, whatever. I thought, “it must be love if you delight in even this.” For instance, when she said “be careful painting your feelings as fact.” I have quoted that in this blog at least 10 times because it was an image I could use and beautifully.

I wish I could get her to see that I stare at her Renoir like she stares at my Jackson Pollack. They are both beautiful in their own way. We are so magnetic when we are both painting our feelings as fact, because what is happening is that she has so much more to work with than I do. Whether she really doesn’t have time, or whether she’s avoiding writing back to feel guilty, the effect is the same. She knows more about me and can think about it than I know about her and can do the same. She has more context about my life, my mental health, my family dynamics, my entire heart and soul on the page, basically….. because when she said I could, I started using a finer brush- that I’d give her details and she’d write back.

Writing back became a pet peeve because she’d find the things she didn’t like and leave out the things she did. I didn’t like living in negative feedback, because then she started to feel like every boss I’d ever had. Assuming malice where none was meant, turning everything back around as if I’d meant to hurt her by being honest about something, and just generally dealing with the fact that she doesn’t deal in emotions and I do. I write so much about this relationship because it became a list of what’s wrong with me and why. But instead of just saying she was wrong, I dug deep into myself and figured out what was going on.

She did not. Therefore, every time we came back together after blowing each other to bits, nothing changed because she’d react in the old way and I’d regress. I got tired of feeling like she was provoking me and telling me I was the one always provoking her. I was not, I was asking her what was going on in her mind regarding where we are and where we’re going because we have shit to deal with if we’re going to create a secure attachment.

The exhaustion came from feeling as loved as I’ve ever felt and a complete dumbass depending on the day; I never knew which woman was going to show up. As a result, neither did she. It was tumultuous and extreme because we were fighting our own battles in ourselves. My way to cope is to use my blog to be Jackson Pollack. Just like an artist, I am throwing my feelings onto canvas so I can look at them from an objective third eye. Her way is to throw herself into work and pretend that our problems will go away. So, I think it’s better to be apart, because I can’t go on having issues with her that are infinitely solvable with any kind of real conversation at all…. and by that, I mean she doesn’t have to come and pick me up or anything. Just send me an e-mail with your Renoir so that I have two pieces of art in my museum. I have only been saying “I feel neglected and this isn’t okay” because I am asking for so very little. I don’t care that she can’t be available all the time, I care that when she’s here she’s present.

I need to be less reactionary, and so does she. I don’t want to end the relationship, but I also don’t want to live in highs and lows, either. It’s too disruptive to an autistic mind, craving stability and having a volatile monotropic thought process. I am not saying I never had security. I’m saying that her coping mechanism was to end the relationship every single time she was mad about something, and then we couldn’t stay away from each other. Just binge/purge for 10 years straight. If my writing had any effect at all on her, it’s that it didn’t make her fall in love with me, but it did make a future in which we were alternately mad as hell AND also craving each other’s words. What do you think it means to her to be a voracious reader and have crafted pages like mine for long haul flights? What do you think it means to me that I’m the author she reads? That bond is unbreakable, which is how I know with a 60-70% chance that she is absolutely hanging on every word here while also not saying a damn thing. Good for her, because if I can’t entertain her one way, I can entertain her another. The delivery method does not matter, and if she isn’t reading, I also don’t care. I just think her morbid curiosity is stronger than her will. 😉

I do not pretend she is dedicated because I’m writing to her. I am explaining my experiences with her, and it would devastate me to publish something just because I thought she wouldn’t hear about it. I have to consider the possibility because it would wreck me if I didn’t, because there could be repercussions for her, not me. I am trying to anticipate what will and will not be offensive to publish, working within limits. So many things here are analogies for something else that will come across to her differently than the point I’m trying to make…. and also having to be aware of that, too. How much am I entitled to my stories and how much am I just actively hurting her? She doesn’t see that it hurts me not to know, and keeps everything close to the vest.

That’s not her fault, either. That’s just the difference between us. I have something she lacks- the ability to spill my guts emotionally. She has something I don’t- the ability to protect myself emotionally by not constantly focusing on others’ needs. We are both lying to the other- she’s as much a people pleaser as I am, she just makes it look good……. and I only know because of how much she tried to please me. I regret every single time that I “made her feel like she wasn’t good enough for me,” because her feelings are valid and yet not a message I ever intended to send. How she got from “you’re the absolute love of my life and I’ll never put anyone above you again” is just beyond my comprehension, but it’s also my reality. I don’t get the right to make that reality untrue…. and she fucking knows it. That’s my anger issue.

That she cuts and runs when it’s hard, and it’s deservedly hard because it’s so fucking worth it. She does not see that’s what I’m saying. She sees it as “you’re a bad person.” I am not asking to change the nature of our relationship and make her act differently, I am saying that “this is a thing we should manage, not avoid.” Absolutely all of this is because of who she is as a person, but it’s not a dealbreaker at all. It’s that I need someone who can deal with the fallout, and she’s insistent on it not being her while also saying I shouldn’t talk to anyone else. It’s devastating to an enormous degree for both of us, because whatever she’s avoiding in me has nothing to do with me at all. I am asking for something she does not have to give. She’s 10 feet tall and bulletproof IRL while also putty in front of me, because she thinks she’s not good enough for me…. and has thought that about many other people. It didn’t start with me, and I know that.

For most people, she’d be a walking red flag. She doesn’t see that she gets to be that with me. That I’m the person who willingly said “the flag is a lie.” My feelings were deep and immediate because of it, and she’s run from it ever since.

The first fissure was treating me like I was suspect and avoiding me because I’d done something wrong….. except the story she was telling herself was fiction. It was a diversion tactic to avoid talking about the fact that she was wigged I’d told her I’d had feelings for her. I tried to be cool. I really did. But I was wigged that both she and Dana were angry at me about it, because I didn’t have a secure environment anywhere. Not at work, not at home, not in the cloud anymore.

It was a time of trial, and instead of blaming everything on others, I got the help I needed. But the problem with Supergrover never went away. Just avoid, avoid, avoid. Checking in once in a while and gifts were enough. It confused me, and she got angry if I said so. I began to walk on eggshells in a way that I don’t for anyone else anymore. I have explained both sides of the story; Dana was going down, but that didn’t not mean that Supergrover led to my decision to break up with her. I couldn’t deal with both their anger at once, and Supergrover was the more stable choice at that point. It wasn’t the whole story….. but it made cutting ties to Dana so much easier when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it would benefit me.

She just got freaked that I chose to come back to Washington to do it, because she thought it meant that I was leaving Dana for her. What she did not realize was that a tiny part of it was for her, but not all of it. I could have broken ties with Dana from Houston just as easily. What I could not do is live in a city without a car. What I could not do is find impartial friends who didn’t know me from Adam…. I know my friends. I know that they love Dana every bit as much as they love me. I also knew that Dana needed them more than I did and it was easier not to give them a choice. You can keep up with me online, she needs you to jump in. Go to her.

Just because Dana was a walking red flag didn’t mean I didn’t love both of them equally. Dana just didn’t like sharing me and didn’t have a choice. Every “come to Jesus” meeting was a rehash because she treated me so differently and I never knew which Dana was going to show up, either. We all have trauma reflexes, full stop.

The entire problem was that when Supergrover pulled back, she didn’t have that choice, either. She thoughtlessly put something into my head that will affect me forever and decided she had the right to just let me cope. I don’t have the right to make her do anything, but I do have the right to be angry that she did indeed fail me in some respects, and absolutely delighted me in others. She is a spectrum, a 3D character, you might say. 😉

I loved checking in once in a while. I loved getting gifts in my e-mail. All that stuff was so rock solid. What wasn’t was all my anxiety roiling underneath, the feelings she refused to acknowledge that she had created. The feeling of “not good enough” doesn’t come from the fact that she is failing me. She is failing us. I could love her more deeply and be less reactionary with more information. I do not feel anger at her, I feel angry about my insecure attachment and environment because of it. Her conflict avoidance told me more than anything I could ask her outright, because she thought I was hysterical and overemotional…. because she doesn’t see that my approach to life is so different. She sees it as needing me to get with the program while also not explaining what the program entails. Hard to be successful when you don’t know the rules, but she doesn’t do rules, either.

Therefore, I feel like she steps all over my boundaries by withholding information, and I step all over hers for asking for it. We are at an impasse and always will be, because now it’s up to her to accept my reality. If she doesn’t, a part of me will always be angry with her, but it doesn’t mean that my love gets smaller. It only means that it will remain unresolved, and that causes feelings of injustice. An INFJ does not do well with injustice, local or global.

So, now I’m just working on the anger, and she’s not working on the anger she “doesn’t have.” She says in words that I’m just projecting. In her actions, I feel on target. That’s because she’s never vulnerable about anything. When she’s mad at me, I don’t know it. As you can see, that doesn’t cause problems at all. I didn’t walk away because I was angry. I got tired of feeling like my emotions don’t matter to her while she’s saying that’s untrue in words and deeds.

She did something enormous for me when we met, and I think in some sense I’ve come across as ungrateful because she sees me pointing out problems as throwing emotional bombs. That’s not true at all. I can handle bigger emotions than she can, so I write from that place. She reads it while being buttoned up, so it feels like an attack because she can’t receive what I actually mean. She is moving too fast and accusing me of moving too slowly. Again, the leap between a neurotypical and neurodivergent brain with the exception of both having CPTSD. It’s amazing to me how our traumas are on completely different playing fields, yet our reactions are the same, yet mirror images of each other. I forced us into a bad pattern, and it is better to walk away and lick my wounds than it is to convince her I’m right.

My emotional strength makes me care about myself in a different way than I did before……. but not entirely.

“For all our mutual experiences, our separate conclusions are the same.” -Billy Joel, Summer, Highland Falls

Hers is a gift I’ll never be able to repay, because now I have the confidence to believe that if I speak, powerful people will listen because that’s what I’ve been taught. At the same time, I can’t go on with such an inflexible power structure, because the avoidant one always has it. They don’t do things wrong, you’re a problem.

All I want is reconciliation on my terms, because we’ve been on hers for so long and it’s not helping either of us. If it’s not helping either of us, I have other friends. She thinks of me as someone who points out everything wrong with her…. and in my mind, she is everything amazing about being on this planet.

The last pet peeve is that she’s funnier than me.

Charlie McCarthy

The reason I write stream of consciousness all the time is that I need a sounding board, and it can’t be me until I have had some distance from a problem. I can pick out my own problematic behaviors if I’m not in the heat of the moment. It’s the main reason I know I’m autistic and not a narcissist. I have pure motives, my social masks did not until my emotional abuse stopped. I only knew how to react from a PTSD perspective because since I didn’t think I was abused, I never bothered to look up trauma responses.

Therefore, the trauma bond transferred from the emotional abuser to Supergrover. It’s not because she’s a narcissist and I needed that pattern to repeat. It’s that we both laid our guts on the table emotionally and that had consequences beyond our control. In terms of my writing, nothing is under Supergrover’s control, either. That’s because in her absence, I spend time with her character because the lovable things about her are my new social masks, matching my values to my vision.

When I first lost my rose-colored glasses, my behavior regressed to that of the age I was emotionally abused, 14. Now, 10 years later, I am finally 11, the person I was when I met her. I am not yet 46 because I do not know enough about myself to be comfortable in my own skin right now. I am 21 at best, because emotionally I can be a fully-functioning adult. Logically, not so much. I have to tailor-make every job to me, so far unsuccessful, not due to effort. Due to every pattern I’ve had while working. It’s trite, but “I wasn’t born to fit in, I was born to stand out.” It’s what people always say when they’re fucked six ways to Sunday.

Burnout wears on you.

What restarts the fire is adding new kindling. The example I just thought of as a “spark” is finding out there are hackers who originally thought about sending me a SQL injection and changed their minds because “she knows the command line. She’s good.” This has never happened. I just think it’s funny considering how many hits I get from Eastern Europe (speaking of Eastern Europe, the new season of “For All Mankind” has dropped……….. #intelligence #iykyk). It’s an image of GRU, Mossad, NSA, etc. that doesn’t scare me. Considering how much hacking I’ve studied, I love espionage enough to know that I’ll never be off the grid. Cameras all over London are nothing compared to developing for the web……. and yes, I have seen people dumb enough to put a web cam on an HTML/DB server. It’s a special kind of stupid.

I don’t cover my web cam with a Post-It because I’m not interesting. I don’t even care if pastors use my sermon illustrations in their own without credit, because when you hit a home run, nobody cares about the brand of the ball. That is only my personal opinion; with other writers YMMV.

In some ways, being trained as a web designer taught me that it was like being trained as a sharpshooter. That respecting Internet privacy was every bit as crucial as respecting the business end of a scoped shotgun. There are consequences for content far beyond your reach, as Karens have found out recently and minorities have known for centuries.

Burnout wears on you.

It’s easy to rail on neurotypical, straight, white, cis people because they need it, frankly. Having the majority claim oppression is too fucking rich. Because whites own so much wealth, they are literally rich from ruining legit everything. Reaganomics wasn’t the best idea they ever had. When things were supposed to trickle down, the rich asked for and were granted bigger cups. It didn’t work, and we’re stuck. It was the equivalent of “let’s tell the poor to fuck all the way off.” Meanwhile, the rest of the world is looking at us like we’re crazy because we absolutely are.

It’s easy to say things like this when I’m not in front of a crowd- that my words have more impact because they flow easier and aren’t compromising with others’ stories because it renders me a weak narrator. People get onto me for creating my own narrative. Of course I do. What else am I supposed to do? Should I be beholden to anticipating your every need?

That has been paralyzing, because it’s always meant “I love your writing and you are entitled to your stories as long as you never mention we know each other.” Everyone likes reading my observations about everyone else. They are not going back and looking at their actions in third person omniscient like I am…. and not positing why I would do what I do in reaction to them, either. It is never their behavior, only the paragraph that triggered it.

When I acknowledge my inner angel and asshole, it doesn’t seem that others are brave enough to do the same. No one in the history of my blog has ever apologized for their behavior when they stepped all over my ass and got pissed when I stopped apologizing for my words as well. I also would never say anything behind my friends’ backs that I wouldn’t say to their faces, and sincerely dislike friends who do otherwise. If you have a problem with me and talk to everyone else about it, that’s on you. Nothing will get better by telling other people the problem, and clearly you are more in tune with those friends than you are with me, so please go ahead.

Your services are no longer needed because I cannot solve a problem if you do not tell me what it is. I will disconnect immediately from people like that because it doesn’t result in being able to shrug things off easily. The quicker the dump, the better. I waffle between holy terror meltdown and incapacitation; I’m done with those kinds of swings. I’m not going to pass out over anger anymore, because I don’t do much but self-soothe and my echo chamber is a hot mess.

I don’t disconnect quickly from people because I don’t like them. I disconnect because when people are angry, my echo chamber turns everything into “you’re the worst person who ever lived.” I can work on turning down the volume, but I can’t pretend a little bit of it won’t always be there because internalized homophobia and hatred of my processing disorders/mental illness is ever-present. Society reinforces it by people confusing autism with Down’s Syndrome… which I believe is the root cause of the phrase “you don’t look autistic.” Autism doesn’t refer to genetics. It refers to the way your brain processes your environment, logic, and emotions.

Logic is more disparate over the spectrum because of differences in executive function. I could be a therapist better than a programmer because my EQ is so much higher than my IQ. If there’s a MENSA of EQs, I’m certainly in it. I’m the Stephen Hawking of human behavior. I’m not the only one. Most autistic people are like this because they have to study neurotypical people so hard to social mask them……. because acting like themselves leads to “problematic behavior.” It’s not the behavior, it’s the context I got from what you said, which, if you’re neurotypical, will hardly ever match what you meant.

What I mean about logic being a spectrum is the difference between STEM autistic and creative autistic. Creatives don’t process things like scientists. Creative autistics have problems processing a process, essentially. STEM autistics have problems processing their feelings about a process. That’s a spectrum, too, and varies because so many of us also have ADHD. Autism in women is not generally caught when the person has both processing disorders. Their ADHD makes their interest vary so much that doctors tend to downplay their experiences.

If someone does not believe that I am autistic and low functioning in terms of logical processes, I don’t have anything to prove. You can see it in my life everywhere you look if you want to find it. If you don’t, you won’t. Neither of those things are my issue, I just respond to you the way you respond to me. Saying “you don’t look autistic” or “everyone’s a little bit autistic” is just dismissive of a devastating process. Your entire life changes from the moment that light bulb goes off. It’s better knowing than not. It’s debilitating knowing that in a lot of cases, it does not get better because it’s not all up to you.

People often like reading/writing about things they love and cannot do themselves. I was attracted initially to being a spy or a diplomat (or “both”) because I studied international relations and political science at University of Houston. I left UH (early, but not by much- if I went back, I could graduate pretty quickly); I wanted to travel the world, and working for the government was the easiest path since I couldn’t get into the military. I didn’t follow up on civil service because by the time I was rejected, I’d moved on from traveling because my autistic side showed up more and more as I aged. When I first moved to DC in 2001, I don’t think I left my house for six weeks due to meltdown and burnout from changing so much, so fast. I was not dissatisfied, I was exhausted.

I actually tried to join the military before I graduated from high school because I wanted to be in a jazz band that came to HSPVA called “The Airmen of Note.” Speaking of them, I once heard the joke that the Air Force is a group of people who stand next to the military, which is basically recycled from the “fact” that drummers are a group of people who stand next to musicians.

I am not an arrogant asshole out of the bandstand and kitchen, but I can damn well “play it on TV.” Being a dick on the line is child’s play next to being the only woman in the absolute cesspool of humanity that is top brass, and we’re not talking about the Air Force anymore.

It remains to be seen whether I’ll ever take the Civil Service exam, because I’m having trouble conceiving of being anything other than a writer, because I can shed light on things without having to work inside them as long as I do the research. I very much learned this from Rachel Maddow. She’s not a spy, a diplomat, a soldier, etc. She’s just an observer to all of it, painting her feelings as fact because she’s taken the time to read them all and digest, imparting what she understands based on what she’s read, not because of a pathological need to be right.

The moment I moved here, I started searching for a job as a cub reporter and found out quickly I was too old for the job because no one would look at me. It’s not the job I wanted, it’s the job I thought I could do. I already just pull the string and 3,000 words will come out. Deadlines are every bit as solid as ticket times, and you’re reacting to what’s happening rightthefucknow rather than having to sit on a story for weeks until you get it perfect.

I am glad I continue to train myself like a journalist, because my other works are going faster now that I “work out” before I get to them. Writing is a muscle, and my emotions feed it. I decide whether I like the feel of my craft or not, and what styles advance me, what doesn’t.

Being a wishy-washy storyteller is boring to other people, I am not a dictator over my friends. That’s because I don’t have a lock on our future. I have a lock on my reactions to our past. I’m never going to be nosier than you’ll let me.

It’s just hard to be curious and have people think it’s nosy. In my relationships, I want to know what makes those people tick. Them not telling me those things makes me feel rejected, because I don’t mean any harm and yet have caused anger. I genuinely care or I would never ask you anything.

I’m not going to stick around if my curiosity is intrusive because I’m autistic and I’m not going to walk on eggshells or change. It’s impossible. It’s not my personality, it’s my disability. You can deal with it or you can’t, and that’s not my bag. I have become better about seeing the people that show up instead of wanting people who don’t.

It’s only when I’m truly alone that I want Supergrover whether she wants me or not. It’s too powerful to grow through the thermonuclear war to not pay attention. I learned who I was, who I didn’t want to be anymore. I learned who I love and how. I made a list of what’s wrong with me and why. I don’t apologize for the things over which I have no control anymore, because I absolutely don’t believe I “should have known better” in front of people who don’t talk. They will never know how my responses would have changed if they knew how I felt and weren’t brave enough to ask.

In some ways, I write everything here to push through rejection sensitivity disorder, meltdown, burnout, demand avoidance, impulse control, etc. I could keep naming symptoms that suck for quite a while, but writing gives me structure I don’t get elsewhere. I don’t have demand avoidance over things I understand intimately. I also use my writing as a jumping off point for conversation, so people already know how I feel before I see them if they’re fans, and don’t if they don’t want to know. Their choice. Being a fan is not a requirement, but you’ll get more of me if you are. Full stop. This is because the autism doesn’t mix well with conversation. It is even easier to have a conversation through chat than verbally. A lot of autistic people process through writing to cut down on social masking, so I am very much not alone in this trait.

I’m admitting that I am not the person I thought I was because it makes me feel better about myself. That I am finding solid answers about working around limitations rather than being ignorant of them. I am also not using autism for anything but a Google or YouTube search term. It’s not an excuse, but it is very much my responsibility to let you know so that you do not hold me to neurotypical standards, which harp on a neurodivergent person’s greatest weaknesses. It’s a trap (Zoidberg gif)!

It feels like my only choice is to do this by myself, because even if people are dismissive, that doesn’t make it untrue or less difficult. You only have to study how much AuDHD and ASD is missed in women for five minutes to understand that what I’m telling you is not bullshit. You only have to spend another five minutes to know why so many people avoid an official diagnosis. It’s expensive and intimidating, leads to more discrimination at work. An official diagnosis can help you stay employed at some companies, get your resume left in the dust at others. It depends on how the culture of the office views neurotypical people as a whole. If you are any combination of the neurodivergent disorders, you have problems keeping track of important things because sensory issues impede your comprehension. Having an open office plan for every employee is like picking on kids for being fussy eaters. They’re both neurodivergent traits that result in neurotypical people saying “get over it.”

Autistic people can be astronomically talented and unemployed because they cannot “get with the program.” If you have a policy that I must be able to write, talk on the phone, and listen to everyone else’s conversations just because other people can do it is insane. People want to have hired neurodivergent people. They do not want to work with them. We are HR window dressings like all the other minorities.

There are two sides to every story. I also understand why having neurodivergent employees with needs so highly specialized is problematic. You cannot provide enough space to block out noise for me, and even if I wear headphones my eyes are tracking an enormous amount of activity. All of that matters in terms of performance. How many things am I expected to keep track of at once, knowing that the very same things that limit me at work make me the most frustrated at home. Guaranteed. I don’t dislike those things about myself any less than they do. I’m just tired of feeling like a failure, and see promise in my writing because it’s helping me. I have the attitude that it doesn’t matter if readers show up for not, because I do my bit in asking people to read without being obnoxious. There’s a difference between building my audience slowly and actively trying to be the center of attention. I don’t want to “go viral.” I want people to know my name when shit hits Amazon.

I ask for donations, you don’t get a paywall. To me, that’s enough. A few ads aren’t that obtrusive, and I know that because of my stats. People wouldn’t stay if the design wasn’t easy to read, and ads in paragraph breaks are mostly fine. I honest to God do not want to be famous. I want to be respected. I am, among a very small audience (small being relative for the web), and am growing every day. Life is small ball. You don’t hit a home run every time you’re at bat, or at least, I don’t.

It’s just so much different understanding the rules, and how they’re different in the National and American Leagues.

The Secret Lives of Puppets, by TJ Klune

What book are you reading right now?

I can’t tell you anything about this book, really, because I just started it last night. It’s not as fast a read as “House in the Cerulean Sea” or “Under the Whispering Door.” However, I am encountering my first ace character and we are not dissimilar. When I’m not thinking about it, it’s not important. Obviously. There were seven years between Dana and Zac because I was delusional. I wish I could put it better than that, but it was ridiculous to think I could make a mistake like that because it would be something she’d struggle to forgive. That being said, she also made a mistake I’m struggling to forgive, because it changed the course of my life in a way that I wouldn’t necessarily have chosen for myself knowing so much now that I didn’t then. What is important to me is that I have absolutely no problem with the entire world knowing I was straight up out of my fuckin’ mind, because that’s what made the mistake possible. I was in autistic meltdown and taking it out on her.

Then, I literally got burnout for seven years.

My executive function cratered because I felt so horrible. This is what I mean about her having a husband that can spoil her in a way I would’ve wanted, because I owe her a lot more than he does. She should have gotten all the best parts of me, and she didn’t. People can and do change, but not without a backbreaking amount of emotional work. I loved her so hard, I was willing to sit in the pain of rejection until it didn’t hurt anymore; I wanted us both to forgive each other and move on. I wrote her long letters into the night explaining my feelings to that end.

When they didn’t work, I had to stop the pattern of me needing her so much without her securing our attachment. It felt creepy because at the time I didn’t know I was autistic. I didn’t know I was a monotropic thinker and that every time I fall in love that woman becomes my entire special interest. Additionally, I didn’t love her because she was perfect, I loved us in our imperfections because I felt so powerful virtually “standing next to her.” I was a fool, but it was worth it and it always will be.

I don’t know why she wants me to carry the weight of her indecision, but I don’t have to love it. I just have to live it. It is perfectly ok to stop a toxic cycle and cry myself to sleep until it gets better. 10 years is not nothing, and everyone can tell I’ll never get over it because I won’t shut up about it. One of the friends I consider to be the most precious in my mind gave me that line…. “Leslie, you don’t have to love it. You just have to live it.” After that, I called her “the poet laureate of Skidmore Street.” What I do know is that “It Gets Better.” I don’t ruminate over the women in my past as much as I do Dana and Supergrover because they’re the most recent. The immediate reaction is that she’s my Achilles’ Heel. Over time, this will relax. I just have to let it happen because she seems bound and determined to let it.

This may not be the entire reason, but part of it is that my beautiful girl is so goddamn stubborn. She vows not to respond and does. We have done it to each other so much that it doesn’t mean anything anymore and I’ve stopped trying to make it. What I know for sure is that it could go either way based on past history and I’m prepared for every eventuality. That’s what I meant about being able to see living together (the spinster in the attic) to never speaking again. It’s a wide spectrum because we are as people. We are both so brilliant and so stupid about this. I thought yesterday about writing to her, “I wish you’d take it in that I love you like most people love babies…. that wild, crazy love no matter what their future holds.” I realized that’s how most autistic people I’ve met love others. I hope she sees that I’m trying to social mask the right way, but sometimes things are going to get lost in translation. Neurotypical and neurodivergent are two different languages. She’s speaking Hebrew, and it’s all Greek to me (little Biblical humor for you there). Autistic rage and burnout are tangible, they’re so loud. I don’t mean to be rude or avoidant. I am trying to cope with as much as I can handle, which as it turns out is a smaller amount than I’ve been led to believe.

I have covered my social masking until now. Writing is the only way I knew it existed. Being disconnected from Supergrover’s facial expressions while I talked cost me dearly, but writing letters to each other all the time drew me in, because you can’t social mask if you’re not adjusting at every eye twitch. I have said this before, but virtually it’s easy to go a long way down the wrong road very fast.

I have said that we looked before we leapt, but it wasn’t a bad move. It just needs to be managed, and I’m the only one that wants to manage it. It is unfathomable to me that she doesn’t see my point, so I’m done worrying what she thinks if she’s ignoring all my warning signs. That I am trying to tell her something without telling her something. But I can’t hold it over her head that she’s obstinate. I just have to wait it out and wear the wound on my skin until it becomes healthy, stronger scar tissue.

It’s not hard not knowing how she feels. It’s hard not knowing her reactions to what I write. At the same time, she wasn’t here when she was here, only once telling me I was too close to the hard out and making me afraid I’d ever do it again. I’ve seen her warning rattle enough for a lifetime. She has never seen mine, but mine is not about biting her. It’s about trying not to bite her. I am sure that I have made mistakes that I would absolutely regret in publishing anything, much less about this. But I don’t get to feel regret if you don’t tell me you were hurt and why.

Only strangers respond to my writing because it’s not personal. I respect that and like it very, very much because it means that I can be off in my own little world with my own silly observations and no one cares. The only time my friends respond to my writing, really, is when they’re so angry that they can’t see straight. Every deep, intimate, positive portrayal goes out the window because no one can see their own bullshit or respect that I did and have an opinion about it. This has been true since 2003.

There are only two exceptions to this. Bryn tells me when I’ve written something beautiful, and I love when she loves how I’ve portrayed her. She is the 3D character that sees she’s a 3D character. If we got in a fight, she wouldn’t give two shits what I said here, because talking it out personally is more important. She actually would say “what can I do to ease your mind about that?” The same is true of Supergrover, or was until 2014. After that, I was rightfully “PNG’d back to Langley” (slang at CIA for being demoted to a desk jockey- persona non grata).

I just hate it because we used to be Jack and Greer.

“The Secret Lives of Puppets” touches on this because since the protagonist is ace, the story revolves around deep platonic relationships. Sometimes, the universe sends you the book you need to read at the time you need the words most. Finding this book was a godsend in terms of learning about myself. That I focus on deep relationships whether they’re romantic or not. In fact, in this book, the “puppets” are mostly androids and robots.

Using androids and puppets doesn’t mean that I didn’t already pick up the message that friendship is valuable… and being a writer may not make our friendship continue, but it does make it immortal. She will live in me for a lifetime, and after we pass, our words to each other will still be here.

If people know me at all, they know that I might be a mess sometimes, but I love my friends and want to make all of us live forever.

………even without new dialogue.

Only Other People Can Do That

What part of your routine do you always try to skip if you can?

It is a slight exaggeration, but I (like all other autistic people) cannot survive while skipping any part of my routine. Mine just isn’t organized by time. It is organized by sense of security. The bigger the task at hand and emotions attached to it, the bigger the sensory issues, demand avoidance, meltdown, and burnout.

Taking medication and not taking it are both things that cause demand avoidance. My routine is generally waiting to get uncomfortable enough while unmedicated because if I don’t experience physical side effects, I will avoid taking pills. Even thinking about taking medication makes me gag. If I had no physical side effects, I would set a reminder. But I don’t have to. My brain notices when a chemical isn’t there and screams bloody murder…. so I got that goin’ for me.

I very, very much wish I could just tell a pharmacist what chemicals I need and be able to choose the delivery, because it would help me a ton to be able to inject myself or drink a suspension. Swallowing pills is hell on my sensory perception, and it wasn’t that way until I needed to take multiple pills every day. My throat has a Pavlovian response to the thought “I need my meds.” It gets tight before I even put the pill in my mouth. If I taste something bad, like the salt in the lamotrigine, my gag reflex will engage. This gets reinforced by happening every day, the reaction more intense over time. It’s a lot to manage. A lot.

If you have a tendency to tell smart/successful people “you don’t look autistic,” please stop. Success is relative. Some high functioning autistic people seem successful, and whether they are or aren’t can only be self-reported because money is not happiness. In every single video I’ve watched about Autism at work, it’s been a vlogger who has at least three degrees, but still no job has lasted more than a few years. Therefore, that means whether someone is working at Wal-Mart or partner at Baker Botts, the odds of them staying employed are the same….. why I admire people like Glennon Doyle, Brené Brown, and Mark Zuckerberg. They do wildly different things, but they all created their own jobs that played to their strengths rather than fitting into a system.

I’m pointing out Zuckerberg specifically because he’s the kind of neurodivergence that best represents me. I have the same sensory issues (I wear the same things, like hoodies), I write content for the web and know how to code some stuff, I social mask through everything and notice when he can’t (watching him in front of Congress was fascinating), etc. I’m just not as rigid as he is because my ADHD pulls me away from complete sameness. He is also the kind of person that whether you were e-mailing him or talking to him the conversation would be wildly different. I promise that people like us are hated all over the world for being cogs that just don’t fit. If Facebook hadn’t been his idea, he would have been fired a long time ago because he doesn’t play well with others. He would have had a better shot at staying employed than someone like me, but only by virtue of the fact that the coding he can do is so monetarily valuable. People are willing to put up with a lot of autistic quirks if not doing so means millions of dollars down the drain. Companies throw out a lot of talent by hiring autistic people without knowing what that really means.

This is why so many people are on disability that “don’t look like they need it.” Taking a shower is not routine. Brushing your teeth is not routine. Making yourself food is not routine. The reason it is not is that for a neurodivergent person, it’s like you learn that thing every day. You don’t “get into the habit.” The reason it feels like learning it again is that you have to put the same amount of effort into taking a shower now as you did when you were eight. It’s not secondhand nature. An autistic person’s strict routine is something they built to keep themselves safe and secure emotionally, but it’s not that they’re different than me. It’s that their structure, their routine is their single interest and they get it done with laser-like focus.

It is not, in IT vernacular, a cron job. Those people are white-knuckling it through life. So am I, because I do not experience my routine as iron like a special interest. I do not demand it of myself……… letting my need for absolute structure and my ADHD impulsivity fight for dominance. I can create a system to defeat ADHD and it will be brilliant. I do not have the executive function to stick to it.

I am the most successful in a relationship when someone else has a strict routine because I social mask it. I am not “codependent,” I literally have no idea how to create a routine to take care of myself and stick to it, emphasis on the repetition being harder than the creation of a system. I swear to God there were days in my marriage I only took showers because Dana dragged me in. It helped more than anything because it kept demand avoidance from eating my lunch. I am often pulled out of my comfort zone because my sensory issues are so high. I have said this before, but I experience demand avoidance in the winter the worst because doing things like changing my clothes is a bigger swing in terms of sensory environment. This is not a bad thing. If I showered every single day in the winter, my skin would dry out too much. It’s just an example of why autism is so hard. Demand avoidance isn’t being childish or lazy. It’s a disability.

I would be great at being married to someone that had an iron structure quirk…….. in some ways…….. as long as my partner recognized that my ADHD would HATE THEM SO MUCH and my autism would never let them go.

Stuff like this is why creative autistics have millions and millions of followers on YouTube and “won’t get a real job.” Creative autistics own things like writing/producing videos about autism (and anything else, but this niché is needed and lucrative). Neurodivergence is devastating and hilarious. They’re finding both ends of the spectrum on camera while I wrestle it out here.

When you’re autistic/ADHD, you start a job with disabilities that make you look “childish.” You don’t develop weaknesses at said job. That’s why if you get put on a performance improvement plan or whatever, you might as well quit. You social mask until you can’t, and then the wheels fall off…… because being autistic at work is a lot to manage all on its own. Demand avoidance will start eating your lunch, because you don’t understand why this keeps happening. If you are undiagnosed, things won’t get better until you research coping mechanisms for your experiences. If you are diagnosed, you know that there’s an upper limit on how much you can do to fit in.

I am also ADHD. I am not the kind of autistic who “gotta be home by 4:00. Gotta be home by Wapner.” Though social masking, I am the kind of autistic person who needs to watch Wapner and would be horrified to let anyone know that. Not watching Wapner would have to feel like gum surgery before the cognitive dissonance was enough for me to say something.

I do wonder what Raymond would have thought of Tivo, though.

Interrupting me is not interrupting a process that needs to happen the same way every day, but interrupting the way I feel as I adjust to a new environment. A new environment is also an old environment by the nature of how sleep works, so “easing into the day” is not a thing. I do not need to have coffee by 0500, get into the shower by 0545, etc. to function. I am disoriented by waking up and not having anything familiar around me.

I need a partner to function and don’t really want to find one. I think I do, but my behavior suggests that I’m really okay white-knuckling my way through life. That I feel more safe and secure by myself right now than I do with someone else. Yes, I have a boyfriend, but not the kind where I have to compromise all the time or learn his schedule/habits. I am glad he doesn’t need me for that because I don’t want to overpromise and underdeliver. I don’t want our relationship to be anything that it isn’t. I love him and Oliver, who is a dog. Love for them is a spectrum from red string to yellow, and we are choosing our adventure together.

I am learning in retrospect that I wanted to marry Daniel because I’d be social masking a doctor all the time. You do whatever you can to learn ways to cope in life, and look around for people you deem doing better than you. The War Daniel, in all of his flaws and failures, has always been a train wreck waiting to happen…… and so have I. Our cars just weren’t headed towards each other until we got so overwhelmed with our environment that we changed directions. We would have been great if we’d kept attacking only the problem.

Social masking Supergrover every day was handy because she thinks in a way that gets powerful people to follow her, so I haven’t learned more coping mechanisms to deal with my disability, but I have learned ways to be more effective in how I speak….. and by effective, I mean “concise.”

Concise is not something I am here, but that’s because this is entirely my place, my rules.

Additionally, every autistic person is an amalgamation of every neurotypical person they know, because they’ve been criticized for every neurodivergent behavior they’ve ever had. Third Rock from the Sun would have worked just as well with the exact same script only substituting aliens for an autistic group house. We are all trying to learn how people do things because our own ways don’t work.

That effort is how processing disorders quickly become mental illness. You don’t develop symptoms of mental illness from autism/ADHD. You develop mental illness from not fitting into the system and feeling horrible about it. My life would be different if I didn’t have the capability to tell when my needs exhausted people. The fact that I do means “80-90% of the time.” That’s because as a preacher’s kid, I have more heuristics for social masking than most people, and I’m female, which carries a rigid structure of behavior in and of itself. Neurodivergent women are often trained into making eye contact, giving affection, and dealing with the discomfort quietly.

When women aren’t social masking, they’re punished like children because their fathers/husbands have been trained to treat them like property, anyway. For lesbians, this is less of a problem, but comes in with male boss relationships if nothing else. Autistic men get away with so much problematic behavior that it’s ridiculous, because women didn’t create a system of power over them in which they have to live up to it. When it comes to how to be a good wife, there are a thousand books explaining the job.

There are a thousand self-help books for men, too, but being a husband is not from the perspective that they should tamp down their behavior- like a 50s women’s rag with lines like “freshen up and run the vacuum around the house before he gets home.” I can understand that a man is autistic AND mansplaining. Just because it’s his autism making him look like an asshole and not narcissism doesn’t mean it’s not offensive.

Perception is reality, but men are not expected to social mask to that degree. Their opinion is expected to be better than mine…. but who knows whether it is or isn’t? There are a million men smarter than me out there (lowballing) that I could learn a ton from, but that’s because I hold their reputations in high esteem, not because I think a man’s voice inherently has more authority than mine…… but they’re programmed to think it does.

There is so much that it takes to make me feel secure in my environment, but a routine is just a good cup of coffee or two in a mug that feels right in my hand. The feel of the mug is as important as the taste of the coffee. A routine is picking up my tablet first thing so that I can look at the WordPress writing prompt for the day and get the creative juice flowing while I wait for the cup to brew (I have a pod-based system; I use Café Bustelo from the can and a refillable pod.).

I only take the time to grab coffee, refill my water bottle, and use the bathroom before I jump into the writing prompt. I think one of my best qualities as a writer is being able to see what comes out when I just let my mind wander a propos of nothing. It’s a writing prompt, and whatever it made me think is okay. If the essay has nothing to do with the prompt, who the fuck cares? It’s not sticking to the instructions. I have understood the assignment because no matter what came out of me, the prompt for it was the same. In writing, there’s no way to really “prompt someone in the wrong direction.”

I write until I get hungry, or I bring my tablet and keyboard to the breakfast table and stuff my face between paragraphs. On those days, it’s generally eggs Florentine and toast, but I’m out of spinach and I’ve started writing before cooking, anyway. 😉

For those of you who are wondering, I’ll probably have eggs and cheese later. This week, real eggs were cheaper, but my actual favorite is those plant-based folded eggs you put in the microwave.

I read that last paragraph again and now it’s about a half hour later. I realized I was starving and went downstairs to grab a sandwich (wheat toast, egg, ham, swiss, salted butter, mustard, and black pepper). The first sandwich was so good I made another one with cheddar.

Cheddar and eggs go well with mustard because it’s a very, very, very rich Mournet. You can either scramble cheddar and mustard into the eggs before you serve them, or just make the eggs plain and put on the rest separately. I don’t know which texture will appeal to you better, but I do know that the flavor is famous. Mournet is a derivative of bechamel, a mother sauce in culinary school. Bechamel is a roux and some milk, reduced for thickness. Mournet adds cheddar and mustard. Stone ground is particularly pretty…. but I don’t notice presentation first. I am trying to make comfort food, my transition into the morning.

I used to binge caffeine, then I looked up this ancient technique called “going to bed earlier.” So, I don’t need as much coffee in the AM as I used to because I’m not counting on it as a replacement. What I do need immediately is water, and I keep a few 20 oz. soda bottles in my room for it. I don’t want to knock over anything without a lid. I ease into the day better with water than anything else, because I learned that sometimes by body said “coffee” because of addiction when it was really saying “I am a plant and I am not doing well.”

The thing about being an autistic person in an alistic world is that you don’t live in a hydroponics farm. All your basic needs are not automatically scheduled. You are at the mercy of yourself, and you’re not a very good boss.

Some people deal with that by having an extreme routine. Some people are paralyzed by them and avoid all social interaction, because when you have demand avoidance over your basic needs, you cannot begin to think about fitting into public because you cannot take on others’ demands if yours aren’t met first. It’s a spectrum of behavior and the masking of it.

You’re so afraid that people will not love you if you stop social masking that it just becomes the part of your routine that you always try to skip…….. if other people will let you.

Life is Like a Full Time Job

I ran across a post on Facebook about looking for friends. They said they were an enneagram two looking for another one. I had no idea what the hell that meant, so I took the test on my own. I am a four, The Individualist. Apparently, this is the INFJ of enneagram, because it had all the traits of a healthy four, and all the negatives. It was fucking brutal. Enneagram is one of those tests where it comes off like psychological “data” indicating what’s wrong with you and why……. through a web form, so that’s legit.

The good news is that my personality is as rare as I think it is. The bad news is that my personality is as rare as I think it is (before the ADHD/Autism/PTSD/Bipolar enter the chat). INFJ in Meyers-Briggs–speak is about leadership and finding yourself in order to find others. Four sounds like they want to make the world revolve around them……. but, of course, they do this while also giving examples of great “narcissist” fours in history- Jesus, Rumi, Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Jr………. and Leslie Lanagan.

Ok. I get it.

Amazing people, enormous flaws (even Jesus, die mad about it).

I believe that Meyers-Briggs INFJ is more accurate (kinder?) for me than Enneagram Type Four, because my personality does not lend itself to narcissism. My personality lends itself to being able to look at a situation from more than one angle and people believe I am two-faced. When life is a spectrum of possibilities, two things can be true at once. More than two things can be true at once.

I cannot control anything but me, and I don’t try. I, like the INFJ/healthy four I am, have retreated into the silence to regroup. I’m learning what I can about other people who are also like me, beginning the vamp to “Take Five,” and we started in common time.

With an enneagram, you lean more toward one number than the other in terms of lower and upper limits. For instance, if you are a four who also has characteristics of three, you would be a four wing three. I am a four wing five, which means that I am just as inquisitive about the rest of the world as I am about me. It seemed to be one of the few bright spots in which the results didn’t focus on telling you why you were fucked as a human. The only other bright spot is that I learned which enneagrams I’m most compatible with, so at least if someone asks me where I fall, I don’t have to pretend I know what they’re talking about…… At the same time, I also believe “four wing five” would translate to 4/5 time, not 5/4, but Dave Brubeck didn’t write a chart in 4/5. 😉

It seems to me that enneagram has a lot to learn from “Ted Lasso” about being curious and not judgmental…. because essentially what it says is that we’re some of the most unique people on earth and also have to let everyone know it….. when people don’t respond, we’ll isolate and say “I liked it better that way, anyway.” I am sure this comes out in autistic rage, but even if behavior comes across that way you can’t always attribute underlying emotions.

Because it’s a spectrum, I know that other people are going to read different interpretations into it, but I feel that Individualists/Idealists fall into the trap of alienation and have to cope. We’re not begging for attention and the description makes it feel like we are. There’s no narcissism to it, there’s only handling a lonely world for neurodivergents. What are people supposed to do when they feel lonely besides pretend they like it?

There is a strong correlation between neurodivergence, four, and INFJ; however, the enneagram four copy was very much like getting a performance review at HR where they list all your worst characteristics to your face because they can’t just say “autistic.”

Language around “INFJ” talks about the good things in your life- that you’ll love one or two people intensely (perhaps three, but no more than a partner and two friends at a time), but shun more superficial relationships. INFJs are all about relentlessly trying to understand themselves, and the enneagram does not speak kindly to this. The description makes you feel like a loser, because it seems like extroversion is an ideal.

The enneagram will straight up tell you that if you don’t make friends, you’ll have a tendency to make being alone your personality, that individualism is the point because we’re too unique for the unwashed masses (Jesus would like a word). All personality types have their good and bad sides, and it isn’t wrong as long as extremes aren’t overrepresented. They often are. That being said, I was relieved to find that I have a lot of healthy four traits, and the enneagram does tell you what they are. It’s just that the list is a lot shorter, because apparently people like hearing how awful they are in great detail.

The biggest of the positives about a four is their ability to laugh at themselves. The trap in being a four is thinking that you’re such a special little snowflake no one can possibly understand or love you. Again, the wording of the enneagram is harsh and I do not like it. In my opinion, it is ableist.

Most creatives are coming from a place of deep pain, and autistic people score four/INFJ in droves. Therefore, the population of INFJs is already a group of people who have been led to believe that they’re lesser than. There is no need for all that because we can whip our asses on our own time.

When you’re autistic, getting out of bed and leaving the house takes work. No one is making us dive into self-pity except for hearing people talk about disability as if it’s an excuse. The world is designed like that, not us. Telling you no one is listening and nothing changing is par for the course; neurotypicals put the onus on the disabled person to fit in and this is proven, not my personal opinion.

If you’re an INFJ and autistic, you probably love personality tests. It took me a while to figure out why, though. Learning ourselves in-depth helps us figure out social masking easier, because when we find out how we fit into the puzzle, it’s easier to see where the other pieces go. Output can be dangerous if you don’t know yourself well enough to know what applies and what doesn’t. It’s not an exact science, and there’s no way to score it accurately (what is true today might not be true under different circumstances later).

Reading your enneagram, to me, is like reading “What’s My Toxic Trait?” porn because then you can compare how awful you are to other people. If you have mental illness, the trap is not feeling sorry for yourself. The trap is entering the pain Olympics. I’m going to be the best at therapy by proving I’m way more fucked up than you. It’s especially gratifying to see your therapist realize this is, in fact, her first rodeo.

Part of the reason I’m such an intimidating case is that in medicine, everything combines into comorbidities. In psychiatry, if it’s not one thing, it’s your mother. 😉 When a therapist is deciding how to work with me, they’re doing a lot of processing on the backend. What they get with me that they don’t get with most patients is that I want to understand me as badly as they do, and I can speak their language. I have not done enough reading to diagnose anyone including me, but I have read enough to be confident discussing my own body and treatment. I come into therapy already more self-aware than most patients, and this is not something I’ve said about myself. This is what every therapist I’ve ever had has told me after I let them read a few blog entries. They joke about “what do you need me for?”

Technically, they’re right. I don’t need them. I want them to provide feedback on what I’m learning about myself, but therapy cannot be my only outlet for my feelings because it’s harder for me to process while speaking than writing. It takes the energy of having to social mask away, when in therapy I’d be trying to balance the energy in the room. I’d notice the therapist’s discomfort and change tacks, fully realizing that’s their job. I am not a very good patient, just like I’m not a very good parishioner. The struggle is real.

I tried “Better Help.” Perhaps it’s just that I didn’t get the right therapist, but she told me that the way it worked was that I’d write and she’d respond. The problem was she didn’t. I’d write just like I do here, and I’d get a link to a Google document about something and no actual treatment. I think their therapists are overloaded and I didn’t get the right one for me. Doesn’t mean I feel inclined to go back. I will find something- a hybrid.

What I know is that even if this isn’t the answer, it is an answer I didn’t have yesterday. Autism is a new and frightening world, because so much of it makes sense in the context of feelings and issues I’ve had since childhood. So much of it is new in terms of not knowing how far behind the eight ball I’ve been in not having a diagnosis. I have never learned coping mechanisms for rage and burnout. I didn’t know I was social masking, I just felt alone. Alone and overwhelmed with no ability to do anything except cry in frustration. You can’t get it right, you’ll never please your boss, and you can’t clock out.

With autism, you don’t have to get a job to know hard work. Life is like a full time job.

IFLS

Whenever one object exerts a force on another object, the second object exerts an equal and opposite on the first. -Newton’s Third Law of Physics

I knew I was attracted to Supergrover’s personality from the moment I met her. Again, cute, cuddly, and (works) blue. She was attracted to me because I was vulnerable with her in a way no one else could be- she read my thoughts here and thought she found a safe space. She did, it just took initiation into a really shitty club, the one in which I’m not social masking so there are maybe three people in it. Her husband spoils her in a way I would have wanted, because she put up with too much bullshit for discount yogurt coupon.

She talks me down off the ceiling, and the reason I’m over the moon is that she does it whether I need it or not. In those moments, I may not be able to look into her eyes, but I see the forehead kiss coming. The problem comes in when Supergrover doesn’t take the time to correct the story I’m telling myself and we get off track. But I don’t want to be off track. I am open and communicating, which comes across as rude and demanding. It’s how she came across after she didn’t want to solve anything anymore. Therefore, I used her tone thinking that’s how she’d respond to me. That when we came back together and regrouped after I’d had time and space to think about it, there would be a continuation of her giving me no bullshit answers and me doing the same.

What actually happened is that my no bullshit answers were taken as “you’re trying to hurt me.” Meanwhile, my heart’s all tied up and I’m lovesick because she thinks that. It leads to more anxiety on my part and avoidance on hers. It finally became untenable, because I was tired of having made a commitment to her like I did and not getting a say in anything…… while she said I dictated everything. Easy to be a dictator when I’m the only one who initiates and first response is anger. I wanted her to keep standing up to me by confiding in me. Being stronger by being vulnerable. Raging inside that she couldn’t and it was all my fault. After eight years of it, I finally decided something true. I matched her tone for tone and it wasn’t all me.

Turns out if I can’t date her, she can’t date her, either. That’s because we’re annoying as shit from different ends of the spectrum. I’m laid back. She’s persnickety. “Do not miss a detail or I will incinerate you if my ire is in full force” is on brand. Mine would be “your nachos look better than mine.” That’s because she’d never ask something of someone else that she wouldn’t do herself, and she wouldn’t miss a trick with nachos, either.

There are certain songs that remind me of her.

If you said “goodbye” to me tonight, there would still be music left to write. What else would I do? I’m so inspired by you. That hasn’t happened for the longest time.

She hides like a child but she’s always a woman to me.

Those are Billy Joel lines that have come through my head recently, but I’ve attributed others.

She’s like a one-way ticket and you can’t come back….. singin’ yeaaaahhhh, you want her, but she’s so mean.

I’ll never let her go, but only in terms of the character she presents here. There will still be music left to write because all creatives use their pain as art, no matter what kind it may be. For me, it’s having a love so deep and so ethereal that it has become a mind worm, but stopping our interaction has made it healthier. I do not ruminate on the questions when I know there aren’t going to be any answers…. as in, I’m not expecting them, waiting on them.

I never should have been waiting on them in the first place, but you’d have to understand details I can’t share as to why that didn’t happen. Why she got twisted further into me rather than further away.

We leapt before we looked, and were only now starting to see real promise- or were we? I don’t think so, because our relationship hung on thinking about perhaps one day maybe never doing something and what I could do for her. She is not selfish at all. I had time to be sweet to her and I wanted to do so. When she had time, she wanted to as well. We’ve sent each other all kinds of digital shit, particularly books and coffee because Amazon and Starbucks are the easiest to transfer back and forth.

We just don’t have the same time; people are right when they say everyone’s got the same 24 hours, but wrong at both ends of the spectrum. A poor person doesn’t get as much accomplished because they can’t travel very far, very fast. You have to have money for gas or public transportation. A powerful person doesn’t accomplish very much because they can’t focus on anything with everyone pulling them in all directions. The difference is small ball. Conversations and research add up. You might have had five minutes a day, but that’s 25 minutes at the end of a work week.

An ADHD or Autistic person does not do that consistently because their thought process is not going to pick up at the same place the next day. They have to come up with a new great idea, because they had it at 3:15, then Carol had an issue, then they got back to their desks and remembered the seed. But then there was only about an hour or an hour and a half left in the day, which isn’t time to fully flesh out the idea. By 5:30, it might as well be, “what idea?”

This is why conversations with Supergrover are so important to me. She’s big picture, and I’m details in terms of spitballing creative ideas or solving a problem. But that’s because she keeps track of everything and all my brainstorming will be off the cuff. My disability comes in where she shouldn’t be expected to keep track of everything, and I’m ADHD. We both have to learn to cope if we have a shot at friendship down the road, and it will be a long time before I’m ready to say we won’t. This is because traditionally when we try to separate, no we can’t.

There are just two reasons it feels final. The first is that I have a legitimate issue with her, I’m not just trying to be an annoying little shit. I’m sorry she’s busy, but I’ve been in the waiting room for eight years. The second is that she sabotaged one of my relationships and I let her because it was good for both of us. And yet also wouldn’t compromise with me on anything later when I felt I’d proven myself trustworthy.

I never railed at her for being straight, I never railed at her for telling me what she told me so that we couldn’t separate, I never tried to make her feel bad because she married a man. I never did a lot of things, she just assumed. She’d read a shit ton of my writing and decided what it meant and how to feel about it all on her own, which she should have. But she didn’t share with me any of her interpretations so that if her assumptions were wrong, I could correct them. She also wouldn’t correct any of my assumptions, then rail that I’d made them. It was not healthy, and her last words to me were “obviously, you’re the only person who can change…” as if I’d lorded my changes over her. I’m not better than her, I’m just different. I felt like I’d done a very good job of listening to her needs and responding, and I was being repaid in anger and guilt.

Reminded me of going to the hospital after Dana hit me and her saying, “must be nice to just be able to check out like that” after she’d hit me. Both Supergrover and Dana caused me to feel things that I’d never felt before in the extreme. I will never forget what it felt like to be hit by a partner. I will never forget what it’s like to be alone in a room with Supergrover, which is how I viewed our relationship- displaced in space and time, a room of our own. 😉 Different experiences, yet not. Different environments, yet not.

In the case of the failed relationship, I felt like I’d anticipated Supergrover’s needs jumping up and down for attention and it didn’t work out the way I thought it would. I don’t know what I was expecting given the previous few years, but it wasn’t what I got.

I got a big gift from her, but there was nothing on the card to indicate that it was transactional. Most of our gifts were “just because,” so if it meant “thank you,” I didn’t pick it up. Therefore, I recognize that she spoke to me in her love language and I am grateful. I just think it’s foolish for only one of us to study the language. It means only I’m in a foreign country.

Marcus? Marcus would get lost in his own museum.

And in fact, that’s exactly what I did. I wrote into the night, creating new memories with her and reveling in her old stories when she told them. I told her I wanted to be the Merlin to her Arthur, but I know in my heart of hearts that she did not believe I was telling the truth. This is not real? I ended up wishing that it could be more than each of us curled up reading each other from thousands of miles away, but grateful for even a 30 second interaction because her time is as precious as she is.

My beautiful girl is such a force of nature that I had to be mad at God for a while. First, railing at them because I’d been born queer because the relationship would be so much easier if I hadn’t. Then, railing because since she shut down communicating with me, it felt like she thought she was them.

She thought I was mean and vice vera.

Whatever objects of mine weren’t in motion before she appeared certainly started rolling afterward. The entry before last took place at Marylhurst, the year leading up to meeting Supergrover. Before I knew it was an emotional affair on my end, and I was always preventing her from being uncomfortable because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut and I knew she would be.

Not only was I blunt, I couldn’t get a read on what was okay and what wasn’t. Our reactions used to be so similar that when she put me in motion, we moved in the same direction.

Now, for every action there was an equal and opposite reaction in which her actions were always pure and she was perfect, and I was trying to take her for a ride. This was in no way true, but I see how she’d get that impression. I thought she would see with eight years of diligence that I wasn’t going anywhere and I was taking my end of the bargain seriously, but an avoidant attachment will run from an anxious one every time because they are not used to communicating with people clearly enough to avoid small anxieties that then spiral. Slights unfold in the memory.

I also don’t know when our relationship is affected by outside sources, and she held that against me, too. She asked why I wrote like she does everything because of me. If you don’t tell me there’s an outside force, I’m not going to look for it. I have enough problems not spiraling out without anticipating even more blowback because the moving goalpost would be “why do you attribute things to my friends and family?” I didn’t want her out of my life because I thought she was a bad person. I thought our relationship was difficult because I couldn’t love her any more than I already did unless she showed me how.

She has no idea how many e-mails I’ve written with tears streaming down my face because of it. Whatever you call it- a chord running between us, wearing her metaphysical ring, two toys in the same sandbox, etc.- I wasn’t prepared for how hard it was to undo a trauma bond, and I’ve been left with no other choice. I am not holding onto hope because I think it’s realistic. I am holding onto hope because neither one of us has been able to avoid each other no matter what our feelings have been for 10 years. It’s a tapestry.

I just decided to stop stitching until we went to Target together to buy fabric softener….. and she has to drive for many reasons. She doesn’t get to have an engine that good and not let me watch her play with it :::sly grin::: because she’d know how to raise the hair on the back of my neck safely. That’s why she’s the alpha in our relationship. One of only four or five people I’d trust to catch in one of those exercises where I just have to hope I don’t hit anything as I lean back.

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. I am angry that she does not see me as someone who would catch her and it has become useless to keep saying it and hope she takes it in. Maybe she will in retrospect, but even so it’s unlikely to result in reconnection. That’s because I’ve told her over and over that if she comes back, it has to be big. She has to lay all her feelings on the table so that I feel secure.

I know her first thought when she read that (the first time) was “why didn’t she just ask me to poke myself with a fork instead?” That’s because she’s cute and cuddly, but doesn’t indulge that side of herself. Doesn’t realize that the things she sees as “darts” from me are actually the things I love most about her. I’m not criticizing her, I’m telling her I notice her “-isms.” She has personal and professional quirks that make her unique. She doesn’t see that I think she’s uniquely inspiring and stupid gorgeous because she isn’t looking for it. That doesn’t make it less true.

I say everything wrong, but no I don’t because no one is ever wrong a hundred percent of the time. All of this has become a drumbeat because if I do not concentrate on resolving the issue and keep looking back across the river, I won’t be able to rescue myself.

She has told me to find people that bring good things into my life, that don’t cause me issues. Two huge problems with that. The first is that if I move on, she still causes issues because the bond is unbreakable. We leapt before we looked, and now I’m paying for it dearly. I am sure I am not the only one, I just don’t know her side of the story because she’s so adamant about not telling it.

So now, my task is to find something that will turn my attention, and I’m finding all sorts of temporary interests, but not anything so magical that it would interrupt how I’m feeling currently. Part of it is being a monotropic thinker caught up in a rumination that won’t go away. Part of it is that the situation cannot be duplicated, so if I lose her, I lose a once in a lifetime experience. My broken heart was caused entirely by thinking that I was the only one who got the chance of a lifetime. I forgot that when I saw her trademark and thought it was cool, she had met Leslie Lanagan.â„¢

I don’t think that because of anything but Newton. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Supergrover fell in love with my writing. I started believing in myself. Any belief in myself started with “you like Eminem? Explain exactly how I’m not going to fall in love with you. USE BIG WORDS.”

I was joking. We’d just met like, 30 minutes ago. It was a mistake, and a big one….. but not for the reason you might think. I didn’t pull a trigger in her that meant anything sexual, but I made her feel good and vice versa. We amped up each other’s dopamine so that we felt this heightened bubble around us that excluded the rest of the world for evil and for awesome. It was private and healthy until it was private and not. And I’m not even sure how private it is, sweating bullets over everything about everything.

What I know is that if I keep putting one foot in front of the other, my attention will eventually turn. I think that’s best because she’s given no indication that me asking her to step up would do any good at all, and in fact most things I say piss her off because she can only accept my truth when she sees herself the same way I do. If those stories are different, she will become defensive and accusatory. At that point, I’ll just explode because I am so tired of trying to make it work.

The reason I’m tired of seeming “demanding” is that I’m not asking for anything huge. If she actually asked what my terms were, filling them would be the bare minimum in a virtual friendship. It’s not that I blame her for always being busy. I blame her for doing everything she can not to talk about her feelings so that I constantly feel like the failure in our relationship because I’ve asked her to emote. Anything above clear communication in text, like having lunch, is above and beyond. Penciling in lunch is what I’m willing to do, not what I need.

What I need is her to stop moving the goalposts so that I actually get positive feedback. When she holds off reading because she feels angry/guilty, she opens the e-mail and responds to it with anger and guilt…… if the issue is between us. She has time to post-mortem with me if she is not a party. She will help me improve any relationship except for ours.

It felt like I was settling for a connection that would be insecure my whole life because I would walk on eggshells to keep her until I died…….. because bringing up anything about our relationship makes her avoid me. It has to stop for as much as she walks in beauty and I do because of it.

Two reasons for giving up. The first is that I genuinely don’t want to take up her time. The second is that I don’t want the occasions when we do have time to interact to be contentious. I can’t be one of those “Christmas and Easter” friends because we’ve been so close in the past that it physically hurts when we’re distant. Having that distance is the only thing that allows me to keep that thought process at bay. It’s exhausting for the feelings I have about her to rush in and out. Riding the waves is a good thing, but it’s dangerous when the water levels are so different at low and high tides.

I am astounded by the entry where she told me she had read as much as she was going to read, that it’d been okay up to now. There were tears running down my face; my face felt as if it had never really been washed before. The reason I was crying is that the entry was much later than I thought it would be, and she’d read everything that was truly important to me. She didn’t agree with all of it, and that’s okay. Just knowing she read it is enough. Knowing she was still reading while I was at full strength, not social masking. Letting my autism run wild over our experiences so that I could process them through my fingers.

Of course it hurt that she said she wouldn’t read anymore, but it hasn’t been true at any other time in our relationship, so I’m convinced if it’s not true now, it will be. I have no doubt she loves reading about you. For some reason, in her mind I am very perceptive about everyone on this blog as well as completely 100% wrong when she’s in it.

I am not surprised at this attitude, as it’s most people’s attitude about my writing. It’s irritating as shit because people will read me for days/months/years and really get a feel for my writing. They’ll fall in love with it and treat me like a hero. They’ll build me up til I think I’m James Dean on toast. Then, when they’ve convinced me they really want to be a part of my life, they see what I’ve written about them and it quickly begins a downward spiral if I say anything but “the sun shines out of their asses.” I have not changed a thing in terms of the way I operate, but they’ve changed their perspective on me.

I love that Supergrover read the entry about all the things she never knew, about telling the bees she was gone… and might have even heard me read it. If she did, I hope she likes it, because that’s the purest love letter I’ve ever written to anyone.

Falling in love with straight women is never advisable. It’s cliché for a reason, though. Happens all the time. When it comes to being attracted to someone, mistakes are made whether people are the same sexual orientation or not. Plus, even if we had both been queer, that’s no guarantee that we would have been attracted to each other. I’m not even sure I’d be attracted to her physically because I’ve never seen her in person. Yes, her photo is gorgeous; I can’t go on that because you can’t judge how you feel around them by it.

This is why I’m so sure that what she looks like doesn’t even matter. That whether we meet or not, our brains are connected and that’s what’s important to me. Our brains being connected is just not a good thing until we establish healthy patterns and tamp down all the rage.

She and I, like Dana and me would’ve if we’d gotten back together, restarted with a lot of hostility. Over time, we each came around and I kept growing. I felt like we were getting closer, but I think now that I felt the intimacy of opening up to her. That theory holds up because my feelings didn’t degrade if she stopped talking- still haven’t, won’t. What I went through with her was a dream, but a disjointed one…. the kind where you think you’re going to learn the meaning of life….. until you realize it’s all just a bunch of green glass and movie magic.

I am not sorry for wanting her to be my somewhere over the rainbow, but I am sorry that she knows it….. and I couldn’t get around it by hiding her to her because I’m just not that good a writer. Hiding her to people who don’t already know her is hard enough. The reason she knows I love her this much is not just because I told her. I thought it was easier to go the hard route and just be honest with everyone, including you.

Generally, after I talked to her, I talked about her…….. and she read it. The reason we didn’t leave it at a one-note conversation is because I wasn’t writing my feelings about her to her. I was writing my feelings about her to you and she was listening. Sometimes it made her angry. Sometimes I touched her heart. The worst days was when she perceived I was doing the former when I was trying to overdo it on the latter. All I’ve ever wanted is to change her mind and heart, because I wouldn’t be who I am if she hadn’t changed mine.

She knows how I feel about her, how I’ll always feel about her. I will stay in motion especially being acted on by an outside force. In so many ways because our relationship is virtual, losing her is losing me. There are moments when my social mask is her because none of my other friends know her and won’t pick up the imitation. We’re both good people. If something worked on me, it’ll work on someone else.

Supergrover is sort of neurotypical with ironclad boundaries and morals. Therefore, it was imperative to pick up her social masking. She is much more stable than I am in that arena (I’m autistic/ADHD and she’s not, but she has PTSD so I’d be surprised if social masking hasn’t been a part of her life since she picked a favorite Crayon.). We are both incredibly complicated constructs, what makes us attracted to each other on a magnetic level because our conversations just keep digging down.

At first, she was good about thanking me for calling her out and not immediately getting angry, but it didn’t last because I got on her last fuckin’ nerve. I’m not saying her reactions weren’t anything I didn’t deserve, just that I was thoughtless and it had bigger consequences than I could see on the current chessboard. You often don’t when you’re playing black.

I didn’t get anywhere in our relationship until I pushed over my king for the last time….. except it wasn’t, because Supergrover was used to having a fight and would provoke me when I said I needed time. I am responsible for not walking away at that point, but because autism, I’m not very good at that. So, we’d spend our days ripping each other apart when this is someone I wanted to love for all time.

It mystified me that we were fighting over how beautiful she was and I was losing. I’ve loved beautiful women since forever and I’d still never seen anything like her……… and I would say that if I’d never seen a pic.

Her letters were like uncut coke to an autistic brain. I lit up like a Christmas tree every time a notification came in. My senses were heightened because I’d been in burnout/depression when we met and the dopamine of new relationship energy pulled me out. I missed DC (I lived in Oregon then), and for as much as I thought of myself as a lovesick girlfriend obsessed with punctuation, I thought of her letters as “news from home,” too.

I had never had a relationship that was so deep emotionally without being physical, so it took a while to learn how straight women do that. Definitely something I needed to know because I’ve misinterpreted lots of signals the wrong way in both directions. One of the things that’s come from being so tired of walking in gray area is if I’m interested in someone, just tell them. Don’t stop to hem and haw over whether they’re straight or not. If they are, they’ll tell you.

I realized I was pigeonholing women by anticipating whether they were or weren’t based on a non-existent set of facts that are actually just stereotypes. I’m not saying that telling Supergrover I had feelings for her was wrong, I’m saying that I was an idiot for thinking it wouldn’t change things as much as it did, because she was already a monotropic thought process without bringing all that romance shit into it. I felt like a seventh grader. Ugh. Eyeroll.

The one thing I will not do is pretend it didn’t happen. Supergrover has to learn to deal with my feelings if she wants to be in my life because I do not want a relationship where only one of us is getting what we need. What I need is for her to stop the push/pull of adoring me when I adore her here- deeply, intimately… and saying “you’re the only one who ever ruins anything” after we have text.

If this was a movie, our indecision over whether to be good to each other or not would make the audience throw popcorn at the screen. So many times we have duelled, enough that now there’s never a winner because we decided to attack each other instead of the problem.

I want to be kind to her. I want to love her like no one else does, and I can be safe and secure in the fact that I do. It has been such a circuitous route that it is impossible to remember every turn. I do know that at some times, it has felt like Google Maps just told us to swim.

Right now what I am doing is making sure that when I’m older, I still have these memories. It’s not a lot to write down to move on. It’s a lot to write down to record. Hindsight is 20/20, and I cannot look forward before I look back. If I am only looking forward, I am not seeing the mistakes I’ve already made.

Autistic people take in information by reading a lot of the time because processing someone’s voice is more difficult than text. In effect, I’m writing down my memories because it makes social masking stick in my head.

Social masking doesn’t mean that I’m not being real with you when I do it. I am not trying to learn how to emote. I am learning how people receive it so that I can be more effective in my communication. It would be nice if people did the same for me, but neurotypical people don’t generally do that. It’s not how society works. If you are not having a meltdown and stimming by rocking, “you don’t look autistic.” If you hear people say that, they’re certainly not the type who’s prepared to be sensitive to it.

The world doesn’t owe me any favors in terms of excusing my behavior because I’m autistic. It is only a tool for me to learn how my reactions are different by having them classified into a group. I would like to make the whole world more accessible, but that’s not my call. My call is being able to act upon an outside force because it acts upon me, not cower away because I’m afraid to take up room.

For instance, I know that I rejected a lot of love in my equal and opposite reaction to Supergrover because it wasn’t the package I wanted. She thought I was being selfish, like a child who’s had their favorite toy taken away. Our problems weren’t child’s play, so I don’t know why she thought the solutions were easy. She took up an enormous amount of room in the relationship and, I feel, blamed me for wanting a solid 10-20% rather than a rolling approval rating with large spikes.

I’ve said it so many times, and mostly that’s just to convince me I did the right thing. It is torture in the moments I think I didn’t, because if so, I traded a lot for a little. There had to be multiple battles for me to concede the war, because I kept changing tacks and nothing got better. It was hell walking away, and an even bigger hell to stay and be caught in a gray area that felt like it had an electric fence. No matter how much I tried not to get buzzed, I hit a wire somewhere.

The two scenarios are so different because the honeymoon phase is so different from where we are now. It would have to have been that explosive to create this much pain.

Every action creates an equal and opposite reaction, but some elements are more stable than others.

I am not coming from a place of lack, begging her to come home. I am coming from a place of abundance that I ever got to love her at all.

For cesium, there was flourine. For me, there was you…. and the joy and light of being complete.

It Is Easier Having ADHD/Autism

What is good about having a pet?

Even if I live without housemates, I’ll never live without a pet. In my current situation, I cannot have one unless I keep it in my room all the time. Having a litter box would be impossible because of the smell being too loud, and we already have the maximum amount of dogs on one side of the house (the owners). If I got one, too, the county might notice because of our addresses.

Therefore, I am grateful for Zac and Oliver, who is a dog.

Editor’s Note:

I say it exactly that way because I want new readers to know he’s a dog and for “Oliver, who is a dog” to be something that people think automatically because they’ve heard it so many times and now it’s funny. My inspiration comes from classical music. You can wake up a classical fan in the middle of the night and say “Sir Neville Marriner.” They’ll say “conducting The Academy of St. Martin in the Fields” before their eyes open.

(That line just made Jack laugh. I know it.)

Zac, for those just joining us, is my boyfriend. I joke that I’m his “twinkie bitch boyfriend,” but that’s because I’m closer to that stereotype when I’m with him because we don’t look heterosexual. We’re not building a life together unless the stars align in terms of being happy just as I am. I figure that it’s not up to other people whether I lived like a monk before I met them and it’s ridiculous to think I should have been “waiting for you.” I’m not Blanche, I’m Dorothy. I am sure that if Dana and I hadn’t been such knobheads to each other, I’d be joking with/about the fact that she’s Stan.

It took a lot to realize that I did a lot of negative things, but I am not a bad person. It’s a distinction that people have to make or they’ll hate themselves forever. Being a narcissist is not owning your shit because your ego would never let you admit you did anything in the first place. Narcissists feed on your love and your fear because they know they have control. It starts out small so that you give up power willingly and not notice you’re about to be a boiling frog.

It’s good to have a pet when I’m thinking this deeply about something and writing it down, because stimming to soothe myself is not limited to the feel of the keys. I don’t write at Zac’s much (sometimes I housesit or stay the afternoon to work in silence while he’s at the office). When I do, it is often sitting on the couch with Oliver’s head on or near my lap. He fits his muzzle around my keyboard.

At no time to I stop thinking about something deeply, so Oliver is a good companion when I’m walking. He interrupts my pain signals by having to keep my attention on him (also why a stick shift car is basically an ADA accomodation for me). I’m stimming through every sense and not one, keeping the parts of AuDHD that suck to a minimum. I don’t have demand avoidance with Oliver because I enforce all the rules in a rigid system, I’m not walking in the dark about how Zac trains him. Therefore, I am not spiraling out over what the demand is because I have clear written instructions for the whole process, including a credit card that will work at his vet so I don’t have to panic about how much it will cost if we get hurt.

I have to watch for Oliver’s age and neurodivergence, because he has anxiety around strangers. He also comes off as an asshole while frightened of his environment, but relaxes just like I do when his sensory perception is turned down to normal. Oliver’s not just a dog because I see the same patterns in his behavior that I do in mine, making our relationship free and easy because we understand each other. He understands English to the point where I can say things with syntax instead of direct commands and he’ll still pick it up.

“I need you to get off the couch and go lay over there” vs. “Sit”

Oliver introduced me to the reason it’s important I have a personal/service dog (depending on the plan with my neurologist/therapist/etc.) because it helped my mental state so much. I would also rather have a cat in terms of responsibility, but they only help with stimming when I’m anxious at home. A personal dog can go more places with you, and a service dog can go everywhere.

I would want something like an Italian Greyhound for portability and still being tall enough to handle more challenging walks. I prefer bigger dogs than that, but I cannot carry them…. not important for a couch potato, but Zac and I like to hike. So, small, but just big *enough.* When I get said dog, we will be going to training *immediately,* whether it’s Bryn or a class. This is because of anything that bugs me about dog owners, it’s having little dogs that are terrors and not expecting them to behave like big dogs.

It’s annoying for everyone, for me, a sensory nightmare. I don’t want my dog to breathe without my permission, and I can do it all with positive reinforcement. One of the best things you can do for your puppy is train it in sign language (babies, too). This is because before they have age and experience, they react to everything. Whatever energy is in the room, they pick it up. You need to be able to stop your dog from digging, fighting, jumping, etc. without losing your shit at the dog because if you don’t, the bad behavior will only ramp up because of your adrenaline. Not being verbal takes the energy in the room out of the equation (for the most part).

Editor’s Note

For your baby, they can communicate long before they’re verbal. They just don’t know how without signs. It keeps the crying and tantrums to a minimum when you know how to ask for more milk. They’ll be able to speak in sentences before they’re into toddler diapers. It makes communication easier when a look and similar cries aren’t all the intel you can get.

That’s a thing it’s good to know *before* you have a pet….. whether you’re the kind of person that can be so dedicated to the cause of making your dog behave that you don’t get lazy, because you can derail it by being inconsistent *once.* It’s why I’m so much more into cats. It’s not that I don’t like dogs more, it’s that I have the executive function to take care of a cat and I’m not going to bet against it until I have a partner who also wants a dog or someone I’ve hired because I can’t manage the relentlessness of its care. I don’t want to bite off more than I can chew, and I won’t because a dog’s life isn’t sitting in my house all the time. The point of having a dog is to get me to leave it.

I already know its name should be “Sidney Virginia Bristdog-Woof.” Virginia Woolf is one of my favorite writers and the joke is obvious, Virginia Hall is my third favorite real  female spy, and Sidney Bristow is my fictional favorite.

Julia Child and Jonna Mendez are first and second. Don’t let Julia fool you with that “I was just a file clerk” crap. She is a tough motherfucker. I have a feeling that after working with spies, culinary school wasn’t that hard. Jonna is my second favorite because she would endorse the message regarding the first and Julia came long before her- OSS in WWII. Jonna was Cold War/Middle East terrorism…. but I honestly think she has a lot more areas of operation in her portfolio because disguises vary by climate. I doubt she was only limited to Eastern Europe and the Middle East because of it. I also know that at one point she spent time in somewhere like India or Pakistan because one of the chapters in Spy Dust locates her “on the subcontinent.” However, she could have been talking about someplace like southern Africa as well, and that’s what makes her books fun.

She is also a person who *loves* animals and would love appearing in an entry *about* dogs. I am positive she would rather write about dogs some days than her old job. But her old job makes for interesting stories that can’t be duplicated, so I’m glad she focuses on it. Having a dog is universal. Being Chief of Disguise at CIA is not.

I can say this surface level stuff because we actually do know each other on a superficial level. As in, I don’t have any more inside scoop than the rest of her readers, but I do enjoy hearing her live, talking afterwards, and sending her things I’ve written. It’s how I know she’s lost her dog within the last couple of years, but I don’t know if she’s gotten another one yet.

She would think “Virginia Woof” was funny even if you guys don’t. 😉

It’s funny how I can connect the love of a dog to even my special interest because so many people know its power. We all love our dogs because they can love us back in the way another adult can’t. No terms, limitations, provisos, clauses. No divorce unless you initiate it, and those people are generally wrong about it being time. I do not understand giving up a dog when the situation isn’t completely untenable, and I don’t understand keeping an animal alive at all costs because you think you can’t live without them. There are too many homeless pets to grieve long. I say I won’t get another pet. I won’t mean it two weeks later because I don’t like living without a pet.

I’m glad I don’t have to. Loving Zac is loving Oliver, who is a dog.

All of ‘Em :::southern accent engaged:::

What podcasts are you listening to?

Podcasts are so sophisticated that they’ve turned my attention away from music. I enjoy conversation, so interview shows are essential.

My friend Wade introduced me to my current favorite, a CBC show called “Writers and Company.” The host is retiring, so I don’t know if she’s going to be replaced or a new show is going to be made instead. Through that show, I’ve met so many people like me. I’m not the same level of writer that they are, particularly for people like le Carré, but I identify with the creative process. I like hearing how people work.

In the unedited version of “On Being,” Krista Tippett always starts with asking the guest what they had for breakfast, and I’m like, “Krista…. thank you for asking the real questions here.

Pete Holmes (You Made It Weird) and Marc Maron (WTF) compete for my attention week to week based on guest, and if I have time, I’ll get involved with the show more regularly because keeping up with every show is how you keep up with Marc and Pete. They both have what I call the “Craig Ferguson effect.” They can both talk for an hour and it will be fabulous. Craig could have hosted The Late, Late Show until he died, no guests, and I would have been glued. I was devastated when he didn’t want the job anymore, but genuinely hope for his happiness and success because he’s another person I feel is a kindred spirit. He’s an alcoholic and I’m bipolar. Both rabid Doctor Who fans. Same software, different case.

I don’t think Craig has a podcast, but I have genuinely enjoyed listening to him when he’s been a guest on others. Sometimes I just need to hear “it’s a great day for America, everybody.” And when I need to, I can hear him say it on YouTube.

I love “SpyCast” and have been on it a couple of times, because I’ve been in the audience and thus the recorded Q&A. I haven’t always asked questions, but when I laugh, you always know it’s me. I got into it because of the interviews with Tony and Jonna Mendez in the archives, but stayed because I really liked Vince Houghton’s interview style (and later Andrew Hammond’s).

It’s cool to hear people like John Brennan when they’ve got five minutes on Conan or whatever, but they’re amazing when they’ve got 45 or 60. Spies are personable, yet not trained for television, either. It takes more than five minutes to find the rhythm in which they’re comfortable opening up, and that’s true of everyone who doesn’t work in television. Hell, even people who do work in television. I love long-form interviews with actors as well.

It’s not technically a podcast, but The Hollywood Reporter funds roundtables where actors, directors, and writers interview each other. There is a moderator, but for the most part the actors talk amongst themselves. You learn more about the craft than you ever would by watching TV.

In terms of writing roundtables, my other favorite podcast is “The Writer’s Panel.” You’ll see a list of guests and not recognize a single name, turns out they were on a team that wrote five of your favorite shows this year. And it’s always a random assortment, like “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective” and “Schindler’s List.” Not a real example, but on brand. Work is work. I particularly want to hear from black writers, because their voices are more authentic to mine than whites given my sexual orientation. The Writer’s Panel is the first place where I’ve met a lot of black TV and movie writers at once, and even more importantly, all talking to each other. That’s the kind of “creatives talking about business” I need because they have the same limitations I do in working for a system that’s not built for them. Hearing multiple people come at the problem from different angles gives me solid information on which to reflect.

I have loved news since I was a child, so now I listen to it in Rachel Maddow’s voice whenever I can and Alex Wagner’s failing that. I listen to everything Rachel does, and I’m particularly wrapped up in her podcast series (multiple). I like how she weaves history into the present and I think that’s what makes me sound like her some days. I used to have a picture of Rachel sitting in her office as the background on my laptop, and my housemate asked me who had taken that picture of me. We look alike, we think alike, we have the same interests. I believe that I remind people more of her after we speak than before, and I’m her archetype everywhere in the world with my genderqueer schtick.

Before Maddow, people pegged me as kd lang. They probably connected me more easily to her because not only do I sing, she’s the lesbian who resembles me and other people know who she is. If I looked like Melissa Etheridge, people would have told me I looked like her on multiple levels….. and I know this because “you look like kd lang” has all sorts of connotations depending on tone of voice. Rachel and I probably both got called “kd lang” as a kid, because I can’t remember who’s older, but it’s not enough to be memorable if there’s an age difference. Therefore, I feel very tender toward her even though we’ve never met. Another person with whom I could set a date, step off a plane, give her a hug, and go for beers. On the surface, we are the same person, and not because we actually are. We are holding the same banner at the same parade. Rachel is one of those people that I think “I’d be happy with her.” It guides me as to who I actually want to date because not only do Rachel and I not live in the same city, she already has a partner and they’re so happy it’s impossible not to be happy for them. It is cool that she works here sometimes, though, because if we ran into each other I think we’d have fun. She could certainly introduce me to women I’d have never met otherwise, the reason I came to Washington in the first place. I didn’t want to be a Texas writer. I came here to play.

And with Rachel, it wouldn’t be about meeting women in terms of dating. It would be walking down the hallway and Hillary Clinton stopping us for a second. I wouldn’t have any business with Hillary and I wouldn’t care what their conversation contained. I would just be honored to hear something like that. It wouldn’t just be Hillary Clinton, either. Rachel knows everyone. She’s so powerful she probably knows we’re talking about her right now.

I am sometimes one of those women who likes murder podcasts, and always someone who likes “dark history.” Bailey Sarian covers both my bases with two shows available on YouTube and as a podcast. “Mystery, Makeup, and Murder” is a long form lecture on a murder while Bailey is applying her makeup. I love it because it’s so informal, and very much like reading one of my own blog posts because she just lays it all out there like we’re sitting there having a drink. She is also an outstanding makeup artist, and reminds me of Kevyn Aucoin with her style. I flip back and forth between MM&M on YouTube and audio because even though I am not into makeup as a general rule, she is so gorgeous that sometimes I just want to watch her in a not-creepy way for when I do decide to get “all nellied out.” The new foundations that are coming out are like magic. You can basically PhotoShop your whole face in 15 minutes flat. For the uninitiated, “all nellied out” is queer for someone looking extraordinarily femme and comes from Nellie Olson in “Little House on the Prairie.” I don’t do it much anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’m not good at it. But really, when it comes to Bailey, I’m more attracted to the murder. She is just the wrapping that comes with the murder. It’s an excellent package.

When MM&M became insanely popular, a company asked her to do a second podcast called “Dark History.” These are long-form lectures that translate just as well on audio because she’s not doing something else. There are obviously dark episodes, like Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, but also things that most people don’t think about, like the war over pineapples and sugar. The child labor in chocolate and coffee. It’s just fascinating and I recommend it both because it is interesting and so is Bailey.

Indirectly, Bailey changed the direction of my media-watching habits because for the last, I don’t know, year or so? I haven’t really watched TV. I’ve watched YouTube. Finding MM&M and Dark History led me to watching other long form lectures, which in effect, sent me back to college. I haven’t seen all the latest shows because I’ve been thinking about the Roman empire. 😉 No, seriously. I watch lectures by college professors on history- military and CIA particularly because that’s what I’m researching. Right now, it doesn’t matter what era of military history it is, as long as we’re talking about WWII forward.

That’s because before then, we didn’t have an official intelligence service (and my novel focuses on both defense and intel equally). We had “Wild Bill Donovan,” America’s one-man traveling Langley. He had few friends in this town. Any mystery and cool factor over CIA that exists today isn’t based on them, I assure you. Military hated intelligence at first because they weren’t helpful, they were a threat to their authority. Americans love CIA because Ian Fleming charmed them into it. George Tenet knows this better than anyone else. He knew that CIA needed a win, so he was the one that declassified the operation so that the story of the Canadian houseguests could be told.

That’s because he knew Britain was in love with James Bond, and so was America. What if it was provable that CIA has a spy who is just as lovable? It has to be a good movie if my heart goes a little squishy every time I see Ben Affleck and it’s not because of “Chasing Amy” (I do not know a single bisexual girl who didn’t become absolutely 100% obsessed with that movie….. maybe I’m less bi than I thought or something.)…. and honestly, it’s exciting thinking about who I’d like to play Jonna if “The Moscow Rules” is also optioned (and she’s told me that there’s interest, but nothing has come of it- no ink). Kristen Stewart might be a good choice because she and Jonna both have the same vibe- feminine and rough and tumble. Same for someone like Megan Fox, Mila Kunis, etc. It would have to be an actor about Friends-cast age because if I was Jonna, I’d want Ben to play Tony in TMR, too (I’m just thinking out loud. Jonna, you can stop me at any time…. kidding, I don’t know if she reads me, but it’s not impossible). I can’t think of anyone I would choose based on direct comparison in looks, because I don’t think that the best actors do imitations. For instance, I don’t think Peter Dinklage actually looks like Cyrano De Bergerac, but I do know he chewed the scenery. It wasn’t an imitation. Dinklage became him.

I would choose Taylor Schilling to play Jonna if she hadn’t already played Tony’s first wife in Argo. I don’t remember how many years it was post-Iran, but she died of cancer before Tony and Jonna started working together.

Here’s the most important scene in “The Moscow Rules” to me, and I will be seriously pissed if they leave it out of the movie. Tony and Jonna worked in disguises, right? So they were in charge of giving people their disguises and training them to detect when they were about to get made. They did this by taking the “kids” to Georgetown and letting them loose, a spy game. They all have different skills, like one’s a linguist, one’s got the map in their head, etc. However, all the spies have to be functional in everything. It’s all about leaning on each other’s strengths and being capable when you’re alone. I think it’s the part about spying that’s ignored the most- how fun the training is. God forbid you get a job where you actually enjoy yourself.

I am sure that in a lot of ways, The Farm is like boot camp. You get out and the real world bears no resemblance to anything you just learned. The courage to be a spy isn’t being fearless all the time. It’s letting go of the fear that you’re going to suck and acknowledging that it’s okay to suck until you know what you’re doing. However, if you’re going to be a spy, know that it’s not a movie. Err on the side of caution because other people’s lives are in your hands. You could get people killed by leaving a newspaper in a coffee shop. It was an accident, and assets still got made.

If I sound like a I know what I’m talking about, it’s exclusively because of podcasts. After seeing “Argo,” I began to look for other writers that did things like it- and then Tony and Jonna released the book in reaction to the movie. But by looking around for writers, that included listening to podcasts about intelligence. Everything I’ve said is something I’ve heard directly, or is my opinion based on something someone else said.

I notice things that people don’t say in audio, more clearly on video. For instance, when I first started dating Zac, Jonna Mendez scared the life out of me on YouTube. We’re friends in real life, it wasn’t directed at me in any way, and yet my stomach clenched. She said something about “when you work for an intelligence agency, it’s not your family that’s the problem. It’s your friends.” And yet, for her, it was the other way around because she did tell someone in her family that made it a huge deal all the time, causing her not to tell her best friend for 35 years… interesting.

In fact, I’m not sure that said best friend still doesn’t know, because I don’t know if the friend was still living when she said that to the audience. Betraying a boyfriend with infidelity is child’s play, and both Zac and I are clear on it. I don’t have a problem with saying I’m dating Zac Wood here because I say it on Facebook, his profile is public, and it would come to someone’s attention faster than it ever would here in terms of search results. That being said, I don’t say things like the specific name of his agency, either. When I say he went to Langley or whatever, it’s because they’re his clients, not the other way around. You could probably Google all that, but my friends/fans on Facebook could do the same thing because he follows me personally and professionally. In short, I don’t want his Facebook profile and his character here to be different, because I want his professional persona to only be what he projects, and for my reactions to him to be genuine without touching on anything too personal in a business sense.

For instance, he can’t discuss troop movements in Ukraine, but we can both geek out over “Folksoda,” “Burn After Reading,” and “Slow Horses.” Neither of us have seen that last one. It would be a cold day in hell before either of us had time to schedule a marathon, but if we did it, “Slow Horses” would be a good one. It’s not that we don’t like being lazy and sitting on the couch. It’s that our lives are too packed to make too much of it. As a result, we make plans to watch things with no recognition of the fact that it’s been a month or so since we’ve seen each other and end up talking for six hours in a row instead.

I want to be with someone like Zac, and I only say “someone like Zac,” because I can have him, but I can’t have all of him. That doesn’t bother me. I just need to find my own partner if I want to settle down. I made the commitment not to start looking until January, because I do not want to be the type of person that turns my back on “The War Daniel” at a time when he needs love the most. He was lost in a pit of despair, anger, and addiction that will only start to lift in January (at the earliest) because it will have been a year since his last drink and his brain will be in a totally different place. No one knows this more than a doctor, and that’s why I call him “The War Daniel.” John Hurt plays “The War Doctor” in the 50th anniversary special of Doctor Who, and Daniel (before he retired) was a medical Navy Corpsman embedded with a team in Afghanistan during Operation Enduring Freedom. If he’d done the same job as a civilian, he could be certified as both a medical and surgical nurse practitioner, and in some cases is, I believe, superior to an MD trauma surgeon on his best day. Most people who have been to medical school didn’t have to put a brain back together under cover fire.

That is why I am comfortable living with him like royalty or paupers, because he deserves to earn his fortune and he also deserves to kick back and just be poor, living off his retirement so that he doesn’t have to ever do anything he doesn’t want to do ever again.

Dana’s dad (my former father-in-law, high comedy) was a Marine, but he was in the JAG and went into private practice later. I think Daniel could do something like that if he wanted, because he has the mind that would make law incredibly easy for him. But that’s only if he wanted to change careers. If he went to school to become a nurse practitioner or a doctor for real, that’d be a good move, too. It’s just that I wouldn’t want to do something if it caused triggers in me, but Daniel is in the unique position of never being able to walk away at any time. He has a patient population that will never in a million years trust anyone else. They may not have physically seen each other for ten years, but he’ll still get calls in the middle of the night. Sometimes, it’s easy, like “I can’t tell anyone I have a rash there.” Sometimes, it’s talking someone down who literally has a gun to their heads because he’s the only psychiatrist they’ve got.

Daniel could become president of the United States and he’d still be a doctor. He’d still be The Doctor. And here’s the thing. Daniel is George W. Bush if George W. Bush was smart. That’s because he’s the W. version of Bill Clinton without the rabid infidelity….. and he’s a war hero, having won an award that most win posthumously. Daniel could become president of the United States, and I know it like the back of my hand. But I do not want him for that. I would hate every minute of it. I have more in common with Michelle Obama than I don’t. All I’m saying is that if he decided he wanted to be president, people would show up in droves.

That’s because he’s got a George W. demeanor and my political/historical/writer mind. If he did want to become president, I could help him do it. That’s because I’d be great at writing his speeches in the background.

“When did you write that last part?” “In the car.”

If he is Jed Bartlett, I would have to grow into the role of Abby….. but he already has his Sam, Toby, Josh, and Donna…… on multiple levels.

“Oh. This is bad on so many levels.”

Accidentally sleeping with a law student that also happens to be a prostitute is exactly the kind of trouble I’d be in all the time, too. This is because a prostitute, lawyer, and preacher’s kid (and spy, feeding my special interest) have one thing in common. They’re all the type of people that connect to other people immediately and have interesting stories because of it. With someone like Laurie, she would have set my brain on fire talking about SCOTUS cases before I ever realized she was a professional…… another thing I wouldn’t give a fuck about because I would care so much more that she set my brain on fire, which is I think how Sam Seaborn would have reacted if he wasn’t deputy chief of staff……… who also thought at first that his boss’s daughter was like, nine to disastrous effect. He has an archetype, and it is me….. incidentally, I am also the archetype for Toby Ziegler because I believe he is coded as autistic. I see it clearly now because of The West Wing Weekly, which has made me look at the series again after many years. Scenes play in my head.

Ziegler acts like us, even stimming when he throws a ball against the wall to think more clearly. Everyone I know in real life just went “ohhhhhhhh.” Light bulb.

I’ve realized I stim by walking everywhere and dictating my notes. Attaching a sensory memory like walking makes an idea move faster and retain longer….. for instance, not only do I retain a lot of what I read, I retain a lot of what I write because typing is stimming in and of itself…… and honestly, prevents a lot of burnout because I am emotionally distanced from people while I write so I’m not anticipating someone else’s needs. I am fluent in my own and asking for your input so I can change my mind if I think you’re right….. at the very least, explaining my dealbreakers in detail so that someone understands why I can compromise so easily with some things and am so rigid about others. It all revolves around my disability because that’s something I can’t change, and is just as valid as diabetes or COPD. A panic attack in your mind is just as valid as an attack in your heart, and it makes me angry when people admit themselves to the emergency room with a real psychiatric issue. That’s because most of the time, it’s treated like a “false alarm,” thereby ignoring the underlying problem and ensuring that if it happened today, it will also happen next week because Xanax isn’t important and surgeons have prepared for battle. You can smell disappointment in the air.

If you’ve ever watched Scrubs, it’s the most accurate medical show in the history of the world because Todd is for real. Surgical really does have a bigger complex than medical, even though medical is generally smarter because they don’t just pull it out and see it like a plumber. They’re detectives. In my opinion, House is superior to your basic cardiologist, if you are unclear on what I’m saying. It is absolutely the difference between medical science and medical art.

I say this because J.D. is another good archetype for me. In fact, I would say that I’m more like J.D. than I am most characters on television and not because I have experience in medicine myself. It’s that my ability to learn the jargon has been heightened an enormous amount by living with e medical detective.

Because we also lived in Houston and I went to a math and science magnet in middle school, I was fascinated by her being a doctor because I thought she should apply for the space program. She said, “but Leslie…. I already am a space doctor. I’m a “room atologist.” Here’s the serious part underneath the conversation. Going to space is all about improvisation because you don’t have any tools or materials you didn’t pack.

My stepmother’s second favorite stethoscope was from the medical bag of a Playskool set, and I’m passing this information to all my friends who are still field docs…. but check them out and if they’re not good anymore, try to find one on e-bay from the 90s if you can plan in advance. Retro toys are all the rage- it’s not impossible. It’s something that bar being in the space program, if you don’t have it you can find it at most big box stores on the fly….. provided Playskool hasn’t fixed something that wasn’t broken. It makes me laugh that a Playskool medical bag is as essential as a burner phone in some cases…….. and a tampon can save your life in two ways. It’s ironic that two male soldiers told me why I needed to carry tampons on me at all times even if I didn’t use them.

To pivot to that story, the first way is if you get injured. They’re a great addition to a Band-Aid if you’re bleeding profusely (and you can put it directly into a wound if it’s deep enough). The second way it’s absolutely crucial requires two more ingredients. In order to start an all-weather fire (not foolproof), you need a tampon, a way to start a fire, and some petroleum jelly, which is most useful to keep in your car if the temperature drops and you’re stranded. The reason that the tampon needs the petroleum jelly is that it makes the flame last longer, essentially turning the tampon into a candle. It’s not enough to last more than 5-10 minutes, but it is a better shot at catching kindling than using matches, sticks, and paper.

Another thing I’ve learned in terms of the whole field doc schtick is that multitools and “spy pens” are no joke. They’re not practical for everyday with things like mini-glassbreakers, so it’s kind of like having a truck. Alternately and absolutely the most useful and wasteful thing you’ve ever bought depending on the task at hand.

For instance, a parachute cord bracelet that unwinds is another thing it’s useful to keep on you for emergencies, but the reason it’s not useful is that it doesn’t go with every outfit; who knows if you’ll have it if said time where it’s necessary is absolute and wearing it is optional?

If you are a photographer, my attitude is extremely similar. The most important camera you’ll ever own is on your phone, not your Nikon “Turn it Up to Stupid o’Clock.” That’s because you don’t want to lug around all the equipment, and your smart phone that records in HD for video and takes 12 MP photographs (perfect for printing) is in your pocket. If you have a smart watch, you also have a remote. Anything you can do on the best Nikon can be done with an iPhone or an iPad, a Samsung tablet or phone. When you can carry something so heavy and aren’t required, you won’t.

That’s because most people don’t specialize in photography and filmmaking, therefore do not need the file size that most professional cameras have on photos and video. Even then, for pros it becomes about convenience and they’ll deal with lesser quality because of it.

Seriously, get a tablet and it will change your life because it’s so light you’re more likely to have it on you. The two tablets that accomplished this the best for me were the Nexus 7 and the iPad mini. There was enough real estate to be able to edit accurately, yet they were small enough that it felt like the same diameters in terms of height and width in portrait mode as a novel. Great for things like writing documents and would fit in the front pocket of a hoodie or my smallest bag. My problem with them has never been the form factor, but that they haven’t been able to fit better hardware than is currently available into that form factor. That’s because CPU power for 7-inch tablets is “budget” because they’re going off of price and not use case scenario.

For instance, I could build a marvelous tablet out of a Raspberry Pi Zero because it would fit into a tablet form factor. However, it does not have the power of a Raspberry Pi, which won’t unless you’re just talking about a laptop with a touchscreen on the front. There’s no way to get it small and cool. Pick a lane. It’s not that they can’t stay cool, it’s that laptop cases that don’t come with fans are more likely to overheat, and there’s currently no Raspberry Pi laptop case that’s immune to it. The best I could do with a Raspberry Pi Zero is a file server or a smart mirror, because a graphical interface would run like a three-legged dog. Clicking a menu, then being filled with rage because you’ve come back and it’s still not done, etc. Because of this, it would take a ton of work and the best performance I could get would come with an interface that looked like NASA in the 60s, with Bluetooth for a keyboard and wifi to access other devices on the network. That would indeed be useful, but not on the go. You’d be limited to a tablet where you had to carry the keyboard everywhere, the interface wouldn’t support a touch screen (it would, but you’d get tired of it quickly), bail to the command line, and be limited to the applications you can run using only text. Games like Pong. A text editor. A web browser that doesn’t really work anymore, lynx. An e-mail client so ancient that all college students my age have used it, pine- so old that when I use it, I feel nostalgic and put up with its limitations often. But we didn’t use it the whole time. We transitioned to Eudora at University of Houston. One of the funniest support calls I ever got was from a lady who asked me how to configure her “Endora” account. She asked me why I was laughing and I told her that Eudora was a mail client. Endora was the grandmother on “Bewitched……” Really, I wasn’t laughing at her. She reminded me of my mother’s mother, who made malapropisms standard operating procedure. She once told me she was going to lay down on the couch with an African (afghan). I doubted it, because losing certain words was so hard for her.

I’m not ashamed of being a Texan, but there’s always been a lot wrong with it.

After all, I did agree to marry George W….. if W. was smart. I’m not holding onto him forever, but I am holding onto him until I am sure that we’ve both had enough time to decide whether we made the right decision in the moment or not. I believe, like Meag and me, that it wasn’t that we aren’t good together. It’s that it was the wrong time and the wrong place, because with his addiction and both our mental illnesses/processing disorders, we were trying to find a secure environment in a hurry. But read “Blink” and then question whether I was wrong after you’ve had time to really take it in.

I blew Supergrover’s mind with two blinks in a row, but because of my autism, I could express my entire thought process in a way that came across clearly in text. She was excited for Daniel and me once I explained the ins and outs. That it wasn’t a snap decision like a wedding in Vegas. It was taking a leap toward a better life with a friend I’d known since I was seven and has a daughter I’m completely in love with as if I’d had her myself. It blows my mind that I’m old enough to be the stepmom of a 25-year-old. It was also good for me to have a partner, that polyamory meant he didn’t care if I fell in love with him or not because being friends trumped everything else, that having his back was more important than a wife. That whether I ended up being Leo or Abby it wasn’t a dealbreaker. I said the same thing to him. That even if I can’t be Abby, I’ll always be CJ.

This is better than, for instance, being with Meag and secretly pining for……. someone else. Being with anyone and pining for someone else, now a recurring theme I can’t ignore because it lends itself to cheating when you have ADHD and autism. Your brain makes you ruminate about someone who is not your partner and if they have ADHD, you won’t have to guess because they won’t keep their mouths shut for love for money.

Ask 50 neurodivergent people. We all agree.

That is why research suggests that poly behavior among neurodivergent people is sky high. They throw truth bombs whether you like it or not, which actually makes it easier to communicate because boundaries are secure. It’s especially common among couples where both halves are neurodivergent, because they understand the idea that obsession and complete disinterest are symptoms and there are times when both of us are going to tap out and come back together. It’s extreme because of the processing disorder, not because we’re mad at each other. There is also a complete and total difference between the love you have for a partner and the love you have in NRE (new relationship energy). The former is deeper, like drinking fine wine or looking at a Renoir. The latter is Jackson Pollack deep fried on a stick.

You can enjoy both environments depending on mood, but to be clear your partner is never going to be Jackson Pollack ever again…….. and not because they’re less valuable. It’s the nature of the dopamine when you first meet. Once it’s gone and lust isn’t the “forward note,” it is only really then that you find out where the rubber meets the road. I am neurodivergent and find it quickly. That is either because I am pastoral in nature and people spill things to me up front, or they are annoyed by my ADHD and Autism. There is no in between and my relationships tend to burn bright and flame out because of it, including at work.

I am not alone. I think something like 80% of autistic people are unemployed at any given time, because think of how hard work must be if you were bullied in school and teachers of “real” subjects looked down on special ed? Do you think that bosses and coworkers are in any way different when we graduate from high school? Teachers decided that you didn’t need it if you were smart, limiting anything we would have learned to help us later on. It makes for a hostile work environment because without special ed, we might have suffered in school and still made it through, but we didn’t learn any thought processes except social masking. Nothing even close to what’s available on autistic YouTube right now…… and lots of podcasts are just YouTube videos with the visuals cut, so the videos are the podcasts I listen to whether it’s on YouTube or not.

Everything I have said in this essay can be found in one podcast or another. I am so grateful that talk radio has expanded in this way…… but podcasts can only do so much when I want to see Rachel Maddow instead of just listening to her voice.

After all, she is my twin.

The First Chapter of Something, Probably

This entry is so long that it’s dedicated to all the people who have told me I should write a book.

One of the reasons that I love Carol so much is that she has two archetypes at the same time. She is a fictional character, but close to my heart because she has Lindsay’s personality and my special interest, which I’m learning about from Zac. He cannot reveal sources, methods, and locations, but that’s not helpful in fiction, anyway.

I want to know how intelligence officers and analysts work at the office, because even though Zac is not a spy (he works for a data collection agency) that world attracts a “type,” and that type just happens to be the one some of the characters in my biggest work in progress need. He is also neurodivergent, which adds to the mystery of how he personally deals with issues when he can’t talk about what’s actually going on and handles information differently- and companies/the government view disability differently across sectors. There are federal standards and unique cultures to every office. They can’t make autistic people look autistic because that’s illegal. So they make up bullshit language around autism that describes our behavior accurately, but not the reasoning behind it. We have to act neurotypical when we’re not or we’re severely punished.

That doesn’t look like disability in a performance improvement plan. That looks like rude, overemotional (meltdown), lazy (burnout/demand avoidance), inattentive to detail (ADHD), underperforming given intelligence (not in any way true at all) and potential (I’m smart as FUCK if you’re arsed enough to see it……. and everyone does until I exhibit a disability. This is also why I don’t do any better while married than I do while having a job. Talk to 50 autistic people. We agree.).

Not being strong enough to lift 60 pounds of flour when I just can’t, yet cerebral palsy, autism, and ADHD are a real thing and we should definitely accommodate you……… in the beginning, when I am social masking because either I’m trying to get a job or, more accurately, the process of sitting in a room with a couple of people and discussing the job with humor is a skill I have because the sensory load is at a minimum. This is tragic because I don’t want the personality of Elon Musk. I want his power, and not because I need it to lord it over people. I need it because I can make a job that revolves around neurodivergence instead of having to fit into a system.

There’s a reason I want to be like Oprah, Brené Brown, Martha Beck, Glennon Doyle, etc. It’s because they all created their careers and made their audience come to them so that they didn’t have to compromise who they were to be successful. I also know that some of them are neurodivergent, even if they aren’t ADHD or autistic. Depression gives you demand avoidance so deeply you can’t take care of yourself because you can’t make yourself respond to your own demands, either.

It’s what creates the need to sleep too much, eat too much, drink too much…. or go the other route and do none of these things, my route to making it through the dark. I drink with Zac when I feel the worst about myself because that’s when I perceive I can be hung over without incident….. then fuck around and find out. It’s why I like non-alcoholic beer so much. It’s the equivalent of having several “water rounds” without actually taking one. However, I’m not bothered at a party where there’s only hard liquor and soda, because I have no problem enjoying the mixers separately.

My favorites are Schweppes Bitter Lemon and Tom Collins mix, but I don’t drink them often because they have lots of sugar. Since I avoid sugar, I drink diet tonic water if it’s available, because you really, really can’t tell the difference when the forward note is quinine. You can’t even tell most of the time when there’s gin in it if you add lime. (Incidentally, my friend Mel says that when we meet up, she’s going to share a bottle of the finest Norwich gin they have to offer with me. Until then, my favorite gins are Hendricks (plain, I’m a purist) and Tanqueray Rangpur Lime. If I have to choose, Rangpur Lime and I’d rather have one martini with it than five with Tanqueray O.O, and not because I wouldn’t like it (haven’t tried it yet). It’s because Rangpur Lime doesn’t come in a zero.

My favorite mocktail so far was made for me at a vegan restaurant that no longer exists in Portland, Oregon (no vodka gimlet with blueberries as garnish). It was called “Portobello,” and it was started because my across the walkway neighbor had the same thought process I did. He was a butcher for a very, very long time and got bored. Same, dude. Same. He gravitated toward vegan because it was the latest trend, and at the time none of us knew anything about it; getting away from meat was exciting. He was doing it before anyone else.

The best meal I ever had was comped, as were all our drinks. Dana and I had every mocktail on the menu, plus a couple of cocktails on the house. We also had things like creamy cashew Alfredo, mushroom paté, very cold and crisp salad with oranges and julienned fennel (actually, chefs, I think it was a batonet but I’ve slept since then), and desserts at the end where pastry had taken recipes for things like cheesecakes and tarts and made them out of soft tofu or Daiya cheese, the root of all excellent vegan pizza- believe it. Melts better than mozzarella, but make sure it’s double cheese (crumbled Beyond Italian sausage is insane). They also made puff pastry as good as I’ve ever eaten using only olive oil and not butter. It was revelatory, and started a lifelong affair. I don’t cook vegan entreés because it’s comforting. I cook vegan because I’m bored with everything else.

It has become another autism-level special interest, as evidenced by the fact that it feeds my blog. In essence, it has become one of the three special interests I’ve never given up. Intelligence comes from my great uncle Foster, where every time he’s ever come up in conversation I’ve strained my ears- better when no one thought I was listening. I know more than they think I do because I remember shit. Cooking comes from Dana. Writing comes from me. It was handed down to me by my grandfather (PR) and my dad (pastor) and my mom (music teacher). This is because my mom and dad’s careers weren’t focused on the written word, but their creativity always showed through whatever they were doing.

The only reason I say that my dad’s creativity didn’t come through writing is that public speaking is a different gig, even if you have my social skills. Just because you know to isolate when you don’t have to be in public to save energy doesn’t mean being in front of people every week doesn’t come with challenges whether you’re autistic or not. All people have a social battery, mine just doesn’t last as long as most people I know. This is true of most autistic people. This is because they think they’re healthier than they are when they’re high functioning and have a few good days. Then, they beat themselves up for having a disability. It’s a vicious cycle because as with a mental illness (which I view as separate from having two processing disorders), the undiagnosed don’t realize that the cycle will never end, they will never “get it together,” they might be suddenly employed and unemployed a lot due to meltdowns and burnout but not be able to pinpoint why, etc.

That’s because until you have a diagnosis, you think all office and relationship criticisms are the truth. That autistic means narcissistic, that autistic means rude and unpleasant, that we are worth accommodating for six months at best because it becomes too much, too fast.

I know this because Supergrover was just as flabbergasted by my reactions as every boss I’ve ever had, because they didn’t pick up ADHD or autism, and that’s not because they wouldn’t have accommodated it. They couldn’t see it because I couldn’t tell them I had it. Therefore, I believed I was a lazy, manipulative asshole a hundred percent of the time when in reality my autism makes me two things. Seemingly two-faced- being able to see a problem from multiple angles when agreeing with both parties is a straight up problem. It makes me seem like I have lied instead of evolved. This was particularly true about six or seven years ago.

I now use my blog as a “separating the men from the boys” test because I can’t not. That’s because it clearly shows people two things right off the bat, before they even meet me. The first is that if they’re going to be in my life, they have to make the commitment to appear here. It is non-negotiable because my blog is already popular and I’m not tanking it for anyone unless it’s absolutely necessary. And absolutely necessary is not relative.

Only for Lindsay and Supergrover have I ever changed anything, giving them editorial control after the fact and been sorry I didn’t give it to them before I published. It’s not because I view their careers as more important than mine. It’s that I’m a flexible enough writer to switch to something that doesn’t revolve around my life because I’d have time to let both them and an independent party review my work before it went out. It’s the bargain I made by being Lindsay’s sister and Supergrover’s Gonzo (because our relationship is a “whatever.”). I genuinely feel about Supergrover the same way I felt about Sam. That my intensity was all over the place and even if she didn’t want to be partners, my feelings for her were strong enough to say “pining after her is stupid when she’ll actually give you time with her if you don’t (in Supergrover’s case). In Sam’s, I would have been her bestie even if she’d broken up with me.

The reason I would have and don’t is that I felt like she was the friend who would always make me anticipate her needs if she wouldn’t talk about the biggest one and dumped me in a hot second. We talked about me dating/not dating Zac for three whole weeks and she waited until I was with him for our first date ever and crushed me at his house.

So.

Even if what I did had been considered cheating (and I feel it wasn’t because I communicated my boundaries loudly and so did she), I didn’t. She took the time and effort to punch me in the stomach while also trying to make a good first impression. I wasn’t even used to my environment with either of them and had to cope with both of them being threatening at the same time. I knew that if she was the kind of person who waited and exploded like Supergrover, I was not going to spend another moment worrying about her, because that’s problematic whether we’re friends or in love with each other, and that experience was hard fucking won.

I don’t give my friendship away to just anyone anymore. That’s because I know it will get deep fast because I don’t have the capability to not. I agreed to marry Daniel in a hurry not because I was in love with him, but because we made the agreement to be partners whether we fell in love with each other or not. He wanted me to be a military dependent so I could get my shit together, being extraordinarily kind as we worked out the details of being able to travel all over. It was a secure environment, not a romance.

It also allowed me the room to make him secondary in my mind because he didn’t care one way or the other. One of the reasons I like dating men so much is that they activate a different part of my brain…. but it’s never in the context of not being queer. In fact, it’s the opposite. I will date a bisexual man or make my straight husband culturally queer and that’s non-negotiable. I will not ever project heterosexual privilege and I will do it without having to wear rainbow shit.

I don’t care if other women think I dress like a lesbian and therefore must be unaware that I’m really queer…. taking me aside and telling me that I’ll never be happy in my marriage, etc. As I’ve said before, it’s the most common story. People assume the most common ending.

The answer is obviously not “The War Daniel” is my fianceé and he doesn’t have a lock on whether I’m bi or not.” Cutting my hair this way and wearing men’s (or size 16 big boys, pants are highwater, tho….) clothes is just being loud about the fact that I’m queer no matter who I’m with. It is not a coincidence that I am more comfortable with bisexual men than straight because being queer and showing it is important to them, too. For instance, the queer employee group at Zac’s intelligence agency is organized and Zac is the president. No one in even 3,000 miles in any direction would peg either of us as straight.

Again, straight women should give bi men a second chance if they’ve been afraid in the past. Bisexual doesn’t always equate polyamorous, that stereotype has been reinforced because society made queer behavior unnatural and the only way to get by was having a wife and kids. Therefore, there were both gay and bi men married to women that were happy to varying degrees. The ones who weren’t bi just lied. Bisexual people are often incredibly monogamous and can be married to either gender with intensity. Gay people can’t.

Gay people taught me early on that I couldn’t be both, so I’ve apologized to Ryan for it many times. I didn’t have to break up with him to explore my sexuality, other people gave me the impression that now I had to because I’d thought about women in that way…. that it changes you so you can’t switch back and forth. You are a Jedi or a Sith. Being a Sith means hiding with heterosexual privilege and keeping your sexuality on the downlow because you CAN come out, you just don’t. Being secretive about your sexuality hurts our community more than it helps you, because you’re biting the hand that would feed you if you helped change it.

Heterosexual privilege helps change legislation, but first it helps cultural attitudes to be visible. It means the world to me that Supergrover wears a rainbow Apple Watch band, because it’s not for me and yet it is. Someone once told me that the rainbow flag was a privilege I had. That straight people shouldn’t buy them on their own, that it should be a gift a queer person gives you. Not only am I glad that Supergrover wears “me on her wrist,” she’s the one I’d let wear my rainbows, too. (Incidentally, Lindsay has also worn rainbow shit since forever and works more closely with the queer population than I ever will.)

The one thing I have that would mean a lot to me to give her would fit in with her whole vibe because she’s a beach bum. It’s a white puka shell necklace that has rainbow shells in a few intervals. It was $10, but priceless to me because I got it the day I went to the Supreme Court to wave flags for Obergefell, certainly the most important SCOTUS adventure into queer rights since Lawrence v. Texas. But she doesn’t have to wear it, and I only say that because the colors would last longer if she didn’t. But like I said, the gift nor the love underneath depend on the recipient; whether she takes it to said beach isn’t my jurisdiction. 😉

The reason she’s a yellow string for me is that these are the things that would be important to me to share with her. Meeting up at Capital Pride would be on brand. She and her first/current families are all the kind of people that would show up together and not make it a thing- which I would not have understood in the 90s and not because my family wasn’t like that. They weren’t like that until I told them. When you know better, you do better, and if you never say anything, you’re part of the problem.

My work to do is to learn anger management, because I am programmed to think others assume I am broken, because that’s how they treat me a good bit of the time. It is not an unearned reputation. Right this moment, I do not have the tools to deal with autistic rage, and I did not learn about this until I read “Spare,” by Harry Wales. I don’t care if it was a ghostwriter, I learned so much about myself that I was glued to it. I read the whole thing in seven hours.

This is because Wales is also neurodivergent, and even if he’s not autistic, people with PTSD (anxiety, depression- possibly ADHD because Wales struggled in school and he’s also very bright- emotionally intelligent while the rest of his family is not, etc.) also deal with demand avoidance, burnout, and fits of extreme rage.

Harry has had PTSD and lived his life like a combat vet for 26 years. I can’t remember exactly, but that would have made him between 12 and 13 when his mother died. I know that because his worst trigger is the click and flash of a camera. He didn’t for one moment run from England because of his family and you can take that to the bank and cash it. Harry would have lived quietly ever after in any castle they wanted if they’d only put so much security on Meghan she couldn’t blink without someone noticing.

What his “family” did was stir up the same racist shit in the British press that groups like the KKK stir up here. You are the enemy when you stay silent. Their inaction told him everything he needed to know. If he didn’t take Meghan somewhere else, the British press would kill her, too. Despite outlawing slavery earlier and getting over it faster in some ways (many more POC/queer/disabled people on television in Britain), the first black princess was not going to get away unscathed. The entire UK fucked Meghan Markle by the whole country down to Prince William being obsessed with “Suits” on Netflix and not bothering to keep Meghan safe when it really counted.

The bitch of it is, they’re not even sorry. It’s okay because Harry has money, so fuck him. That’s the tape that plays in his head because that’s not an unearned reputation for the people around him, too. And that’s how he thinks his public think of him. When his family doesn’t listen to him when he says he’s struggling, he has to find other people who will.

I doubt we will ever meet, but I know I could step off a plane, hug him, and go for drinks like I met him in elementary because we speak the same language. My dad was a public figure. My first experience with PTSD was when I was 12 years old and my house burned down. I was diagnosed with bipolar when I was 21, ADHD and generalized anxiety disorder later. I have been afraid I was borderline for years, but I’m not. I’m autistic and ADHD. That’s why even close relationships alternate between obsession and complete disinterest. I do not nor have ever had an attachment disorder.

It’s the opposite. My people are my safe environment, and neurotypical people don’t often tolerate neurodivergent partners because they become their caretakers and resent it. This is because nine times out of ten they will not do the research to understand what they’re taking on beforehand, and there’s only now enough research on what female AuDHD looks like for the layperson to even understand it. People do this when they find out they’re about to raise an autistic child, and there’s a ton of research on what it’s like to parent one.

They do not do the research in the beginning phases of a relationship so that things don’t go wrong later. There are also now a ton of videos explaining to bosses the tips and tricks it takes to work with autistic people so that communication gaffes at work are kept to a minimum…. and it’s not just bosses, it’s HR education as well.

YouTube has been invaluable at giving me self-esteem by explaining my disabilities so I could stop being embarrassed by them; those vloggers gave me tips and tricks for fooling my brain to work around them (except the CP, that’s a whole other thing). That mental health goes up and down, but processing disorders are permanent. My executive function cannot be corrected with medication.

Ritalin is just a tool in dealing with ADHD, and it often doesn’t work for two reasons. The first is that people think that if they can concentrate with coffee, then getting on Adderrall must be better. Then, the jump between caffeine and Adderrall is too much and the hyperactivity/impulse control/demand avoidance/anxiety about it gets worse…… but not enough to stop.

That’s because it induces hyperfocus just enough of the time that you feel it’s worth it. A good example as to why people stay on it despite caffeine working is basically “a cup of coffee or two would do it, but I like the rush of energy drinks.” That’s why neurotypical kids get addicted fast. They only feel hyperfocused when it is induced…….. and because they’re neurotypical, a cup of coffee or two won’t do it. Induction takes the equivalent of purified meth. This is a huge trap for teenage girls, because first it makes them stay up all the time. That means either they can party harder or they can study like maniacs, literally without blinking.

I have never been addicted to Ritalin, Adderrall, or Concerta because it’s not appealing to me. I hate it with a passion. The second reason it’s a bad choice is that you constantly feel the pull of mentally well and physically sick. This is a huge trap for neurotypical girls, and I know this because more than one has asked me to sell my prescriptions to them (I told them to fuck off because they didn’t know what it was like to need it. I learned that day I was capable of cursing at church.). This is because they’ve noticed that not only does it improve their grades, they lose weight quickly.

And then, whether you like purified meth or not, your body will fall apart because of it. If you see documentaries on crystal meth addicts, you know what is happening to us. It’s just that because it’s more purified, it takes longer for us to look like that on the outside. The worse your ADHD gets, the quicker it happens, because either you have to up your dose because of tachyphyllaxis (a drug getting less effective over time, then correcting for it), or having to go to extended release because you can’t handle the crash between medicated and not.

Meth is not like taking Lexapro or the other SSRIs/mood stabilizers/St. John’s wort. ADHD meds can be equated to anxiolytics (Xanax, Klonopin). You don’t take it for six weeks so that it builds over time and your serotonin is stable, that even if you miss a day (you’ll get physical withdrawal), you won’t have to step down the dose and restart.

The exception to my protocol is a mood stabilizer called Lamictal (lamotrigine), and not necessarily that it would cause depression or mania. One of the side effects is a skin disease I absolutely will not show you. Google lamotrigine for all your JAMA-level horror porn. Meth is the same delivery system as a benzo. You take it, you feel the ramp up, and when it’s gone, it’s gone. That’s why extended release benzos like Klonopin and extended release meth like Concerta are so important. If you’re at work, you can’t have a crash in the middle of the day, even for an hour.

Not being able to do that requires you to be able to take a pill about 20-30 minutes before the first one wears off, and that’s not always possible. Both my SSRI and ADHD meds (when I’m on them) have to be taken at the same time every single day, because even being 20 minutes off will induce a tinnitus-like effect in my ears and a monster headache. When that happens, I cannot help but go into autistic rage because I can’t focus on anything but the emergency broadcast system testing in my head. That’s because all my medications affect different brain chemicals.

The worst time this has ever gotten in my way was the unveiling of the Obama portraits at the National Portrait Gallery. I would have been able to see them in person and I missed it because I was away from home. I’d agreed to stay with Lindsay in her hotel that night, heard about the unveiling on the radio, and was just about to HA (haul ass) when I realized that none of my meds were in my bag. I can get by with a Xanax and a Lamictal, because the Xanax will control the serotonin loss for a few hours (at best). Nothing will stop the Lamictal from kicking my ass. It’s what causes all the auditory activity, making my autism and ADHD unmanageable because I cannot handle my environment when my sensory issues aren’t even external so I can fix them.

My last boss was great and dismissed me in the middle of the day to take an extra long lunch and get my medication as long as I came right back. Luckily, there was no traffic that day, so I did it in a little under two hours and just stayed late. That’s what I mean about ADA accommodations, and if we’d used our work from home policy at will, it would have worked flawlessly. My favorite days at Alert Logic and Decision software were work from home. I alternated between going into my office for overnights and forwarding my office phone to my cell because my boss recognized that staying up all night was easier in our own comfortable chairs and at our own desks. Plus, we could lie on our own couches for a nap at lunch. I went to bed. Once. If you take a nap on your couch, it’s much easier to move again because after an hour you’re uncomfortable and yet rested enough for another four hours of work.

However, screen time for me at night is like poker. Often I don’t need a nap because buy-in is at midnight and you don’t notice the time because your adrenaline is hyped up by the nature of the time. “Rounders” is my favorite B-movie because of it. There are few movie characters I love more than Mike McD and Teddy KGB. Shoutout to Joey Knish.

Martin Landau nailed the 99 theses to my wall. It was a revolution inside me and not in front of me when he told the story to Mike about wanting to be a rabbi, but for all the studying he did at the yeshiva, he never found God there. He said that in “Rounders” before I even started to connect that for me, God had left the building…….. but his monologue was the seed to realizing I was built the same way. It is left unclear whether studying at the yeshiva made him an atheist or spiritual yet non-practicing.

I have decided that I am the latter. I reject the Biblical literalist interpretation of grandfather in the sky and have traded it for secular humanism…… but not entirely. This is because believing that there is a thread of energy between all of us is what created religion in the first place. We are not worshiping the divine, we are the divine.

Science gives us the what. Religion gives us the why. It is why both are needed in our society, because there needs to be exploration of ourselves in both directions. To focus on one is to not understand the world, because secular humanism, like any religion, focuses on how to “bring the kindom of heaven to earth.” It’s just Christian language for cleaning up the hell that’s already here when you’re on the social justice side of the equation. The prosperity gospel is ridiculous, as is the idea that Jesus would support anything that didn’t have to do with community organizing for the dispossessed. That’s what got him killed. Even Neil Gaiman knows that.

It was so much easier to work in my level of quiet in any situation, whether it’s writing, studying theology, or IT. That is absolute silence. Additionally, if I forgot my medication or just wanted another soda, I could get up and get it without the bother of office gossip in between. I’m so good at it and make people laugh so often that it causes hyperfocus interruptions and I can’t transition back to work very easily- and not in terms of laziness (or demand avoidance because I’m in the dark literally to again, tamp down ways for my ADHD to cause “the fuckening.” It’s the idea that up until that moment, your day was going so well.). In terms of building my hyperfocus back from the ground up every time I need something, it’s a tornado effect. I can experience my disabilities and then do three days of work in six hours.

This is because my disability requires me to prepare my environment before I can be comfortable in it. However, the tape of what I need to do is still running, so it’s not like I’m ignoring the work. I am preparing to write it down. This shows itself in everything from notes to official documentation, because it’s all written communication. Notes were scant when I was in a cubicle farm and perfect when I was alone….. or as close to perfect as my ADHD would allow.

It bothered me that they recorded all our conversations and dinged me for the writing all the time. It’s that it would have been an accommodation that truly helped me because I did not have the executive function to explain a problem translating technical terms to English so that my customers understood what was happening (I was explaining things to a layperson like opening or forwarding ports on a router) AND write down the thought process of the experience the customer was having.

Then, I’d get overwhelmed, have an ADHD/Autism moment, and not remember the conversation verbatim so I could transcribe it…… when they could have easily given me a few moments at the end of the day to summarize each case before I went home by giving me the recordings as well. But they were somehow sacred and it’s my voice? I’m not even putting the burden on the boss to listen to every case in this instance, because that would take hours if they listened to everyone’s every one. So, listening to every case is up to them. It would be an ADA accommodation whether the onus was on either of us.

This is how I won two Rock Star awards and lasted less than a year, basically getting fired for neurodivergence. The reason I won the Rock Star award once was that a coworker was listening in. The reason I got the award twice is that I got a call at three in the morning, forwarded by the vice president of the company. He didn’t want either of us to hear the click when he hung up, so he listened to the whole thing, unbeknownst to me.

I got a page of text from him, a personal note saying he couldn’t believe how charming and chatty I was at that time of night, and loved that when I learned he was in the UK, I said, “I have to ask a question of you that I ask all my British friends. Who is your Doctor?” He said he didn’t watch much anymore but that it was Tom Baker. The vice president of one of the best companies in the world knows my name.

By the end of the letter, I knew I’d won his heart just as much as he’d won mine. I just didn’t win anyone else’s over time because they loved me………… at first. Then, they thought of all my quirks and limitations as dumbass attacks. I never had a genuine issue, but things did get better working from home.

Conversations were always in chat. Even better that at home I had access to my stereo Bluetooth headphones and all our apps were web-based, so it was cool to have a Mac or a Linux box at home. Back then, I had a 27-inch flatscreen iMac (running either OS because both are *nix); I wish I still had it, because it was certainly fast enough to run a word processor, a browser, and an e-mail client, even in the days of Adobe Flash (Flash will run on The Ten Commandments before it runs on an Apple tablet). It was the best of times, it was the worst of times and the winter of our discontent, riots the language of the unheard both because I wasn’t heard and I didn’t understand the problem.

At Alert Logic, I had more days at home in the middle of the night, and at Decision Software, our working from home was limited to network outages and snow days, only in daylight. It started my day more naturally when I started sleeping with the sun. I got up early because I wanted to write on the train, which I took unless I was meeting Lindsay somewhere and needed to get there fast. This led to me getting to the train between 0700-0730 because it tamped down my sensory issues to write when the train was less full.

I was often the earliest employee because of it, because I’d go in as soon as the door opened and fuck around until it was actually time to work. A in, I’d get there at 8:15, have some Maxwell house and a donut, talk to my office mate (a godsend because we were both quiet coders), take my meds, wander over to the web team or the IT guy and see what they’re doing.

I was mostly talking to the IT guy about linux because even though I was a marketing database development person (and bad at it), all IT people are unix geeks stuck in a Windows world because businesses only know how to lock down one OS, even when we’re capable o creating the same policies you have for Windows ourselves. As an aside, if you know unix, you know Linux and vice versa. They’re not exactly the same, but the learning curve is small.

Therefore, it’s a short leap between system administration on a Mac to a System 76 (the most famous Linux pre-built computer company). It’s like learning Microsoft Office first and then trying LibreOffice because it’s free. Not the same, but intuitive.

When we suggest new operating systems because they’re more secure than Windows (in 99% of cases),you’re not handing a chef’s knife to a child. You’re giving your IT department the latitude to keep more people safe.

Plus, at work we generally have fast enough hardware to run a virtual machine and work in Linux so network administrators don’t have to mess with it. All of our IP information is bridged from our Windows settings. The point is, network administrators and “IT guys” are the creatives in business working under a chef who doesn’t want to let us experiment to make anything better…. and they’re pretty mean about it considering we’re the subject matter experts. It affects network security in terms of intrusions from the outside world, privileges and credentials on files inside the organization, and data recovery loss.

You know, the trivial stuff.

Keeping a network free of intrusions means you have to work like a spy or faster. Virus signatures come out faster than foreign intelligence cables.). The certification to be able to get authority in the field takes a tremendous amount of effort, something that managers rarely take into consideration because it’s not their reality. It’s also how companies get fucked because they don’t listen to the autistic programmers/people in the security operations center (SOC) or network security operations (NOC) because they’re lazy, rude, and in a bad mood all the time (that’s HR speak for autistic). Meanwhile, they’re incredible at their jobs because they’re stem autistic. Coding and system administration is their single interest and they’ll go at it with everything they’ve got.

A creative autistic fits nowhere into this equation because STEM autism leads directly to profit. In short, their behavior is excused because businesses and governments need them so badly. The NSA will even take in hackers who have previously been black hat if they’re good enough. Same with DoD. What’s more important? The hacker’s past or national security?

Black hat hackers can program rootkits that are small programs hidden in the RAM of a server so that they’re impossible to find. This leads to things like CIA and State getting their lists of assets/confidential informants leaked and things like that. I could smack Assange, Snowden, and Manning upside the head no regrets for what they did, because we won’t know what they’ve done to covert ops for 50 years, if not a hundred. It’s humiliating that the call was coming from inside the house. What if any of them are actually Rick Aames and don’t know it? When he turned on us, we lost 10 assets in one summer. But a group does know, and the group is pissed with lots of underlings, whether it’s the president or the Director of National Intelligence, and they all have the right to be pissed, too.

But this is a situation in which someone could say the complete opposite and I’d agree with them, because I don’t think that keeping things from the American people is always correct. I just think that they more than likely made us bite off more than we could chew and obviously didn’t care or didn’t think of that. Audacity is worse, because no one sees the whole picture of intelligence, not even the president of the United States, because we can only give them as much as we have….. but we are the best set of intelligences agencies the world has ever known, so there is room for as much excellence as we can muster while also recognizing our mistakes. However, NSA has the most power in the room and I would argue the most power in the nation because they basically have a lock on HUMINT (human intelligence), especially because they can figure out ways to watch people when they don’t know they’re being watched. People freak out that NSA might be watching and give up their paranoia willingly when a terrorist is caught on camera making bombs that were planned for, say, the twin towers. But what you must remember, Americans who are terrified, is that Russia, China, and every other civilized nation is also watching you. But NSA is also the only one who can go to bat for you if you are located in the United States and get on the radar by mistake. No one can issue an apology except a United States court, provided there is also video of your innocence.

People generally think about what the NSA is doing to them, not what they’re doing for them. I know for certain that Russia and China have the most eyes on me because that’s where I’ve had the most bots since 2003. I have already learned that even when I mean something innocently, people think it’s not. What makes me think that the Chinese or Russian government would give me a break? If I said something that pissed off the right person at the right time, I’d want to know that I was innocent so someone would go to bat for me. In short, if you get international attention, don’t do anything wrong. Getting caught on the radar by accident is saying something that is legal here and illegal there. In Russia and China, it doesn’t take much and I’ve already had a blogger friend who escaped to Hong Kong then came back to the US. With stuff like that, you never want the US to have a reason to let anyone extradite you, especially when you’re queer. You also don’t want to get yourself in the position of being a prisoner exchange if there’s a chance in hell you did anything that would be considered illegal to the FBI.

If you are an American overseas, it’s better to let them extradite you because you won’t go to trial in a country that’s more harsh than ours. For instance, I’d rather be in an Australian jail than the US, but in a US jail over Mexico or Iran. Considering I’m more likely to be caught over the Internet saying things people don’t like, Russia and China are the countries most likely to care…. even when your critic is an American who fell in love with the Cold War and criticizes it in order to make the future better, not to piss people off. It is how that vlogger views China, a bilingual American married to a Chinese woman. He was only trying to improve his community and country- escaping a future in prison for his trouble.

If you’ve made it to the end, I hope it was entertaining to see me ramble like an AuDHD contradiction in terms. But it’s because I can explain so many things that one tangent leads into another- sometimes more smoothly than others. It’s how I get jobs, literally. I got one of them because my resume appeared among the search results at Maryland Workforce Commission. The CEO of the company Googled me and thought I was a hell of a writer, even commenting to everyone that since I’m a hell of a writer, it was only fair that he let me take pot shots at his stuff.

But writing about all these topics doesn’t mean I can do all of them perfectly forever without accommodation because I’ve proved it in every job I’ve ever had. Bosses do not take the ups and downs of autism well, partially because they can’t see it and attribute performance/attitude to other things. It’s partially because companies say they want to accept you for who you are, but don’t actually help you get there because they say they are welcoming without policies to support it.

It reminds me of my first marriage in the business sense of the word. The reason Kathleen and I got married was because we were in Dupont Circle (then called “the froot loop”) and picked up a copy of the local queer rag, The Blade. In it was a statement from the head PR dude that if you got a civil union in Vermont or married in another country, ExxonMobil would have to honor it. The problem was, they couldn’t. We were the first couple that asked for those benefits and the lady at HR I talked to wasn’t even aware that the publicist had made the statement to the newspaper.

Therefore, the policy on queer issues at XOM revolves entirely around me. I deserve all the credit because Kathleen is a hosebeast and I’m just not going to give it to her. She sold my Yoda (I never could have afforded it. I won it in a contest, life-sized so it scared her and she sold it while I was out of the house when it was a collector’s item that would have appreciated- nearly one of a kind.). And I honestly could have forgiven her infidelities if she’d just decided to be Jack Kennedy about it. I mean, tell me, but I don’t care. The problem was the lying. Eleanor wasn’t threatened by Lucy because Franklin wasn’t threatened by Amelia. I’ll get over it. But that’s what I think now. Back then, I would have been threatened af and worried I wasn’t enough and all the things. Now, I write so much that I need more alone time than most girlfriends would want me to have in the first place.

But what I didn’t do is have ADA accommodations there, either.

I cannot be blamed for keeping it tight because I didn’t know. I had to talk about it and couldn’t. My bosses and partners were every bit as responsible for communication gaffes, therefore we both had to be responsible with future interactions. An employer owes an employee ADA accommodations just as much as neurodivergent people have the right to ask for them.

However, I know plenty of people who say to their partners that they’re neurodivergent and what issues they have with thinking, giving them specific information that is very important and all close relationships blow off. For instance, moms are obsessed with baby books. How often do fathers read them? Mental health is just as important as the medical development of a baby and the health of the mother. When you have mental health, sometimes your executive function crumbles and demand avoidance becoming things like not being able to take a shower because the change in sensory environment is too great (I experience this more in winter unless I drag my space heater into the bathroom with me…. a lifesaver when I make it about 80 when I’m in the cold water.). Things like this are why working from home is preferable, too. It ups my productivity when people don’t care if I stay comfortable and work in pajamas and a hoodie.

I am not making the case that autistic people have to limit themselves to pajamas. I’m saying that they need more leniency on the dress code than most people due to sensory issues that impede their performance. For instance, I’m sure it was a huge damn deal when offices started allowing women to wear pants because wearing skirts instead is hell on earth when your sensory issue is bare legs, and let’s stop pretending that’s not an issue for all women considering razor burn and having to shave whether they have road rash or not.

But the trend of making the skirt part of an official women’s uniform went out a long time ago. Now it’s accepting that autistic people need the flexibility to show up in pants without a tailored waist, a soft t-shirt, and a hoodie (which is not cheap to do when you want to look good enough for work and yet tamp down everything that will bother you once you leave the house. Pain before beauty is not an option for anyone, much less people with sensory issues. I am pointing this out because of Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg. They both wear (wore) the same thing every day so it became a decision they only had to made once…….. and owned their own business so that they could do that because no one enforced a dress code on them. I would say it helped them be successful. But what do I know? In 20 years, people won’t even know their names (this is a joke, they’re immortal for evil or for awesome).

Mental illness affects everyone from princes to paupers, but if you know one mentally ill person, you know one mentally ill person. If you know one ADHD, autistic, or AuDHD person, you know one of us. People have preconceived notions about how alcoholics, addicts, and neurodivergent people should or could act, and they impose their standards on everyone else. No, every one is not “a little bit autistic.” I hear that a lot. Everyone has problems, but few are reinforced in processing disorders and depression/anxiety stemming from them. The pressure of internalized hatred of neurodivergent people makes our disabilities worse. The pressure of showing up to a job when you’re seen as problematic often induces meltdown and burnout, essentially being paralyzed with indecision in the moments you don’t already have a social mask for something. And that’s before anyone gives you a demand to which you can’t respond right away. That’s after you’ve conquered the demand avoidance over the things you need to function. Being unable to ask demands of yourself feels the same as being paralyzed over possibly hurting someone else.

But here’s the thing. Lack of accommodation only helps to keep what employers view as “problematic behavior” under wraps. We cannot be trained like a dog into neurotypical responses and wait until you get frustrated enough to fire us over it because we can’t mask at all times, forever. It’s exhausting, like having a job at work and a job that never ends when the world doesn’t adjust to include us. “Less productive” is relative when you’re talking about autism and ADHD, because performance depends on communication and neither party is good at it. Mainstreaming sucks, but neurodivergent people get irritated, too, because not every autistic person’s quirks will line up with mine and vice versa.

But I started this journey by thinking about Red Mist rage, because Harry Wales thought about it first.

If you were him, you would have been beside yourselves, too. When Princess Diana died, Charles told him, patted him on the knee, and left the room. They didn’t expect him to ignore the press once. He felt hung out to dry the first time, too.

Would you have let it happen again?

Being neurodivergent is knowing when to run, because people who love you will want to give you accommodations and the people who don’t might want to, but don’t educate themselves and think they’re the expert because Mary down the street doesn’t have the same symptoms as me, or masks differently so that her symptoms make her seem like a better person than me when we don’t have the same disorder. Perhaps she doesn’t have depression, anxiety, or ADHD. Everything in medicine is one diagnosis…. “it depends.”

I hope that Supergrover eventually reads all of this, because she would have empathy for my plight like none of my other friends would on many, many levels….. and I learned about all of this so recently that she doesn’t know about any of it if she stomped off when she said she did. However, I told her that she needed to keep reading, keep absorbing, so maybe she didn’t because I decided not to feel creepy about it.

I feel weird now, though, because emotions are coming up that I don’t want to dive into, so let’s get back to food and Zac and Oliver, who is a dog.

Said vegan chef needed something better for his computer to promote the restaurant, and his eyes lit up when I told him I’d sell him a tank of an HP printer that wouldn’t die if you took a baseball bat to it and would print 40 black & white pages a minute for forty bucks. Thus the reason why our whole meal was comped and we went back several times just to watch him be creative. It was devastating when they closed.

I keep up with the news to keep up with Zac, because even though he’s not forward deployed with an intelligence unit, I know more about what’s going on with him emotionally if I have some idea about the data he’s collecting. That shit causes real pain. Working for CIA (or DIA, or NSA, etc.) carries a certain cool exterior, but no one ever thinks about these people being the first to learn that terrorists have blown up an elementary school. It doesn’t matter that it’s thousands of miles away. If you learn best by reading, that intelligence will wreck you for a minute because all the info is heightened because of your ability to take it in completely, even sensory memories you’re only imagining and have never happened to you. It’s the same for friends at State and those who have other government jobs where they have to travel to dangerous places. It makes me wonder what might have happened had I made a bigger play for a diplomat I dated for too short a time. Her next posting was in Niger, and she ended up taking someone else because I was so hesitant. It was too fast. I couldn’t change my environment so quickly yet again…. I mean, I can, this was just a couple, three years at most after I moved from Houston to DC. I feel that I dodged a bullet if she was dating me and also found someone to marry in like six weeks. I wasn’t threatened by going to Niger because she was. If I got caught being queer, it would be with her. I was threatened by change and I finally learned to recognize it.

Until I found out I was AuDHD, I didn’t know why I had so much of a propensity to change everything all at once and yet severe sensory issues afterward that were akin to the pain of childbirth. You stop remembering how bad it was after a while and it gives you the crazy idea that a new location is better when it’s not. It’s just destination addiction brought on by poor impulse control. That magnifies when your partner is also ADHD. So, give people a break when they do stuff impulsively. It’s not a defect, it’s a disorder…. and in a lot of ways, the things that we do that seem impulsive to you are absolutely the right answer for us because we process emotional information differently and sometimes more quickly than a neurotypical brain.

We’re not better than you. That’s not the point. The point is that you are beating a dead horse with saying you want diverse candidates and yet your attitudes are the same old shit. There are a lot of words that resonate with HR that make you look like a lazy narcissist who only performs half the time because every time you walk by their office, they are staring out the window. It’s not shutdown and having to psych yourself out of it. It’s avoiding work.

Hell is taking 50 support calls in a day because the policy on time spent with a customer is ridiculously short to make Service License Agreements; everything runs together in terms of writing and talking at the same time, then the next call coming immediately for eight whole hours, four of which are in a row. That fries neurotypical people and not just people fighting through loss of executive function, the meltdown/burnout cycle, or 57 channels that are all blaring and they have to have so much emotional strength to choose between them. That’s why the pace of life is so much better in Europe for neurodivergent/queer people. First of all, the UK and many other countries are more progressive than we are on things like gay marriage and trans medicine. Gay marriage might be old news, but revoking it isn’t. They also have a generous sick policy and wouldn’t argue with me over taking an hour for a therapy session or a med check, even if it was a couple minutes over my allotted 60 minutes.

My health care would be free, so that’s something. It would have been amazing to emigrate to Canada when I was dating Meag, but that was never really a viable option because first of all, we were only apart for a couple months at most before she found someone else, moved in with her, and then broke up with me. Second of all, completely forgivable because we were both 18 and that screams idiot, anyway.

I still think, though, in my heart of hearts that she was the one. But not in a way that makes me want her back. Just that I think we’d have settled into marriage very well once we stopped being idiots because we had a much more natural yin and yang than “my way or the highway” and “suppress everything that’s wrong in order to please her.” And I don’t know for sure, but at least long ago there was a part of Meag that felt the same way, because she told me on a very cold day in an Ottawa Starbucks that she thought we’d made the right choices in life, but regretted that we didn’t get to be partners as adults because she thought we would have been good at it. I choose to believe that she was right, and it fucked me up; I was still in the “she was my first love and I’m over it and all, but no one can say they’re ever really over their first love” headspace. It pulled me in the wrong direction and I cried myself to sleep. In retrospect, it’s the biggest compliment I’ve ever been given, it just took me a while to take it in….. but not years of pining away. I got better after I smuggled Cubans back into the US one trip.

It was one thing to recognize that we had a great past. Quite another to promise each other the future. I think, though, that if we’d put the mountain of work into it that the relationship actually needed in terms of communication, I’d be singing “O Canada” right now. And in fact, I’m glad Meagan dumped me because “I’m Irish. If anything is wrong I’ll just deal with it for the rest of my life.” Meagan had issues that I would not have wanted to take on given the red flags I already saw. It’s not that I saw red flags. I saw an unwillingness to work with me and no idea how to solve that problem. I didn’t have any standards and just lived in a low self-esteem that thought nothing of taking away sleep and replacing it with internal histrionics.

I’m not sure that Meag ever really took in how much she hurt me, because she can apologize all she wants and I accept every one. It’s just that her frame of references were different than mine, therefore she could not understand the problem like I could. I could handle Meag having a beard because she wasn’t out to her parents. I could not handle watching her kiss him or hearing that she did at a party because it started the meltdown/burnout cycle, followed by the depression/anxiety combo meal. I was all for ethical non-monogamy to keep up appearances for her safety, but I didn’t want to be an accessory and I completely was. I enabled absolutely everything that hurt me because I was used to every day emotional abuse and needed it to function. I let her hurt me over and over, forgiving her too fast every time because I didn’t want to be alone…… the drumbeat of a woman’s heart.

I accepted enormous change. My girlfriend couldn’t be my girlfriend in public. I could not mention that she was my girlfriend in conversations to people where it would get back to her friends, thus making an entirely different friend group than her, because most of them did not accept me. I was just the weird girl who acted like a puppy in front of Meagan and I assure you that was not what was happening there. She was on me like white on rice and I loved every minute of it. But I had to deal with my sensory environment being threatened every time a new piece of condoned infidelity came to light. It was more okay when it was a boy because she needed a beard. Sleeping with another woman was just cruel, and not because non-monogamy is bad. Lying and cheating is bad, like coming home and getting into bed with me until I fell asleep right after said date….. when she smelled different and I said nothing. I didn’t find out until she was ready to tell me, because I knew it happened unofficially and didn’t need to pry. She didn’t “protect the path.”

However, I know more intimately than she does why she cheated and let it go. It was too painful to have a connection as large as ours, so she slept with someone else to distance herself from me to have the strength to go. Moving back to Canada was her only option, and I’ve seen that since the beginning- that I should have broken up with her on the last day of school and just didn’t.

I didn’t date anyone for three years after that, and her partner knew exactly why because I was only in town for a few days (or she was and had brought her girlfriend to Houston). Therefore, we flirted like 18-year-olds while never being a serious threat…. except to Katharin. Katharin punched a hole in the wall when I told her that Meagan was spending the night at our apartment, and this was after I told her that her partner and daughter were coming with her and she was staying with me as well. There was enough room for all of us, and Katharin focused on Meagan and me, as if we were hell bent on sneaking out in the middle of the night (which was not actually a bad idea in retrospect given how we’ve come to feel about both women, frankly. We’d just moved past the time in our lives where it was appropriate to want it.).

I also got a taste of what being a parent meant. That it was getting up at 0500 and hauling ass to Waffle House because kid is on a schedule and we’re fucking late. It was then that I knew Meagan and I would have been wonderful parents had the stars aligned, but a passing thought to a falling star, a beautiful memory that could have happened had we been diligent about it.

She needed to open up more. I needed to deal with the disabilities I didn’t know I had. It is also true that pegging us as Glennon and Abby is more accurate than it isn’t, I assure you. We both turned each other out in the same behavior with equal and opposite reactions. My joy in her made me a better writer and fluent in the language of the pitch. I write about the same shit Glennon does and Abby’s voice is indistinguishable from Meag’s in their podcast. It’s not the same pitch, tone, or tambre. It is the same jargon and my mind makes up the rest. She is within me and without me, and sometimes she’s so heavy I just have to lose myself in the music.

Damn, I may never write a paragraph more true that that last one. Shiiiiiiiat. If I ever did get her back, this is it. However, she’s another person I won’t let back into my life without significant work, because she’s proven herself both not to lay her feelings on the table and disappear without a trace. You get one or the other, not both.

I can handle insecurity in dates and times at which we might see each other because that’s the nature of being an adult. I cannot handle an insecure environment, and I cannot count on it with her because of her past behavior. It doesn’t mean that I think she’s less wonderful that she was a few paragraphs ago. She’s just free to do that with someone else. An anxious attachment requires care and feeding because it’s one person’s responsibility to help the other person with anxiety by being clear in communication and not avoidant. It’s the other person’s responsibility to control their anxiety and communicate clearly in return. For instance, an anxious attachment says that if anyone says they’re busy, it’s because they don’t want to spend time with you. An avoidant attachment style and an anxious one is managed by being clear about what is happening. It’s on the anxious person not to spiral out about it and assume that your reasons are actually lies. It’s on the avoidant person not to avoid direct confrontation and hear people out without emotionally detaching and feeling guilty, making up for lack of emotional intimacy with genuinely thoughtful gifts that are supposed to say everything you want to hear and don’t.

Words have power, and I know that. I have known it my whole life. It just wasn’t until I started exploring all my flaws and failures that I could see why they exist. It helps prepare me for a future with neurodivergence, mental health issues, and being physically disabled because I have a space to see it and self-soothe. I am actually managing the best way I know how. I am not a constant burden or ignoring all my responsibilities, and I can see it because I can tell what’s a symptom and what’s not. I will never have truly long relationships without that give and take, and in no way did I get things for which I couldn’t ask. In many ways, I was ignored if I did.

The most embarrassing autistic meltdowns I’ve ever had were at home in the parsonage and in the first hour after my emotional abuser finished her last concert at my church. I knew she was leaving for real and I was crying crocodile tears because I was 14. We could stay close with letters and phone calls, but it was never the same, even when we were capable of visiting in real life again. It hadn’t been that long, maybe four and a half years at most. But in my opinion, she lost her 20s the moment she married her partner and that’s why she never looked at me the same. I went from “I’m older and often not wiser” to “you’re annoying” real, real fast. I’d aged five years, she’d aged 15. The most sinister thing she ever did to me that I struggled to forgive the longest was marrying a woman that if she, my dad, and me were all in the same room you couldn’t find the differences with a map and a flashlight. She, in a very real sense, passed me over for a facsimile. I’m sure she thought that imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, but even though it was wrong I was fucking furious. She wanted to be a power couple, but didn’t want to wait for the inconvenience of letting me go to college and grad school when there was a minister already ordained right there.

I am not saying that I would have been good at being her partner if she had waited, or that it wouldn’t have been pedophilia in the beginning. What I’m saying is that we fit each other like a glove whether I was too young for her or not, leading me to absolutely ignore the downside of being abused and let her have all of me. The emotional vampire who found a very willing familiar because I was so young. I know enough to know she didn’t want that, but she did want a partner that was good for her image and I fit the bill because I knew how to be on her arm and speak in public, being as personable as people twice my age through nature and nurture. It’s the reason why neither she nor Supergrover’s age difference bother me. I’ve been conversing with people from kids younger than me to retirement age since I learned to talk. When I was a toddler, one of my best friends was an old coot who worked at an ExxonMobil service center. He always smelled of tobacco, oil, and gas. His name was Bill Killian, the proper addition to “Lanagan.” At that age, I knew how to read the newspaper AND laugh at dumb cartoons.

I still do that. Regular Show is life because I carry a picture of the cast in my head a lot. My favorite character is Mordecai, but he’s the nerdy side of me. It’s Muscle Man and Hi-Five Ghost that bring out my sense of adventure and laughter.

You know who else has a sense of adventure and laughter? MY MOM!

And on that note, I have prepared my environment to accept more demands. I think I will start by making some Alfredo. Demand avoidance touches everything, because I’ve been avoiding asking myself to cook since last night. That right there is a huge part of why some autistic people cannot live alone. There are programs to get me a home health nurse to stop by, and I need to see if I am eligible for it. Or maybe it’s a social worker. In either case, it makes sense to me while single because I don’t have a partner to share these kinds of things with. It also makes sense while in a relationship because it’s not putting the burden of caregiving on someone that you don’t pay. It’s why when I’m in a relationship, I would pay my housekeeper before I would pay my cell phone bill to keep resentment off my girl, or beautiful boy, as I’ve called him from the beginning. But Zac doesn’t want a romantic partner living with him, so it’s not an issue for us, anyway. But what I know is that if I did live with him, I would rather have someone to take care of the house rather than facing demand avoidance, loss of function, meltdown, and burnout cycles because then the fight seems between you and not around you. Resentment is toxic like nothing else.

The reason this entry is so long is that I’m trying to explain to myself why I do not have autism imposter syndrome. The poster child for an autistic person is not me because it is not my only diagnosis….. and again, if you don’t fit the picture of “autism” in other people’s heads, they will say things like “you don’t look autistic” or “I go through the same thing and I’ve never been depressed.” That “you don’t look autistic” is a kick in the groin. It means your disabilities will be minimized to an enormous degree because you’re not stimming all over the place. Even high functioning autistic and ADHD adults stim to calm their minds, but only a true autistic meltdown that involves ENORMOUS outbursts is valid. My meltdowns don’t look like the kid on “The Good Doctor” and I’m not as rigid as Sheldon Cooper. Two reasons for that. The first is that autism presents differently among all people. The second is that there is a marked difference in how ADHD and autism present in women.

Part of it is that women are so much better at social masking than men, because they’ve been taught a strict protocol for behavior that men just haven’t because they’re men. They own the rules. Part of it is that if low function is the picture of autism, hyperactivity is the picture of ADHD. So, either women are covering it or they’re ignored because they’re not jumping around like seven year old meth heads on a bender. Female ADHD is almost always internal because of both gaps in visibility by professionals, gay or straight pegged as only a “weird Barbie.”

When I can write beautiful things, I am beautiful to other people. When I exhibit signs of my processing disorders or mental heath issues, I am not. If I find my place in the world by measuring other people’s opinions of me, I will not be able to stay in one place very long. I have run out of everyone else’s frustration long enough.

This is my story. If you’re starting with this entry, it’s not the beginning. But we are just getting started. If you listen closely, your inner voice might talk to mine as you read. You’ll find the message you needed to hear, even if it’s not the one you wanted. That’s because I’m AuDHD, not a reject.

The pity is that we all have to work through it every moment of every day when there are so many simple accommodations.

This is how I do it.

The One Where I Use The Term “Manage” Loosely

How do you manage screen time for yourself?

I am obsessed with screen time and I have no plans of changing any time soon. We have covered why, that I communicate more naturally via SMS and e-mail/messaging than I do verbally. However, I know that not every conversation is appropriate to have via text, as well. I draw the line at text message breakup, which is why I have been so pissed at The War Daniel and Sam. It hadn’t been long enough for me to say I was in love with either of them, but it had been long enough that I knew I loved them. Even Sam, at three weeks, I knew I loved her with an intensity I hadn’t felt in a long time, but intensity was all over the map. If she wanted a bestie, I was there. If she wanted a wife, I was there. If she wanted to date other people so our relationship didn’t move too fast (the goal when I didn’t break up with Zac), I would have been there and I know that because I was.

She didn’t want to become the lesbian U-haul couple, but didn’t want to do anything to prevent it, either. I didn’t want to be the girlfriend that anticipated her needs from day one, so I didn’t read between the lines and break up with Zac, anyway. It wasn’t that I lied and cheated. It was that her ex-husband lied and cheated, so the further she got towards reality, the more she realized that she thought something was happening to her that wasn’t. She felt the emotions of him cheating and wanted to lock me down, and the bitch of it is that she could have. She just insisted from the beginning until she broke up with me that she’d gotten too involved with a female ex and they were living together within a year and it was a disaster. She thought she could be cool, and as it turns out, she likes being in a relationship and pouring everything into one person. She found another person who also does that. She just didn’t realize it because I took her at her word.

I also think she thought she couldn’t handle my neurodivergence because she already had an autistic kid, and even if I’m wrong I’m not. I don’t know how it would have been to be the partner and mom of an autistic person simultaneously. That’s because there are times when I know I would have gotten overwhelmed and had a meltdown, and she shouldn’t be expected to survive my burnout sessions when she’s already got so much on her plate. What if her kid and I were in burnout at the same time? How would I handle autistic rage in a teenager? Having done it before, I know I’m solid. This is because I (and all autistic people, frankly) get calmer when other people are in trouble.

We have the bravery to do for others what we cannot do for ourselves. When we are out of our minds because our environment is threatened, we fold into ourselves because we have been pegged as “problematic.” Neurotypical people don’t have that jump scare at a changing environment, but we will watch it happen- their discomfort- and all of the sudden the mama lion comes out. We will risk losing social masking, function, and start stimming if we have to because someone is going to pay attention to the fact that our friends are in trouble. I would be Karen on a stick to get Bryn some ketchup, but I would enjoy mine plain to avoid a social interaction.

We lose the ability to care about what we’re putting out there when others’ safety is threatened; we feel the disaster that occurs within us and try to prevent it happening to others. It’s watching for meltdowns that don’t occur in neurotypical people, essentially having an autistic person’s back because we’re used to it and unable to realize other people don’t need it.

Autistic computer programmers seem like the most narcissistic assholes on earth, because all of them mansplain and people look at female “IT Guys” and see autism. They look at men and see “mansplaining.” That’s almost certainly the biggest disconnect in IT. Autistics of every gender are attracted to IT because they’ve always worked there and adjusted their environment to fit. For instance, I have always been the kind of helpdesk person who prefers to sit with the coders. I should have stayed in web design, but I got out when databases entered the picture. That’s because I had to jump from design to development in a hurry with no ability for logic to that degree. I know this because I took Logic in college instead of math and had to take it twice before I got a D, so I might want to take it again before I decide to take on Python. I’m even shit at MySQL when it comes to complex search terms. Logic is just not my wheelhouse, because I’m a monotropic thinker. Programming would be easy if you could write a program as “one thing happening in sequence.” In coding, you have to understand everything, everywhere, all at once.

This realization hit me this morning and it stopped me where I live. In terms of autistic people being programmers and having a tendency to isolate (like in their mother’s basement) and hack or code, making fun of it is severely ableist. “Comic Book Guy” is at the same time hilarious and tragic, hopefully the point Groening was trying to make. But it’s not a sad life because he can’t talk to people. It’s that few people are willing to ignore his accommodations and see him as more than his exterior….. in effect, getting a gift and focusing on the wrapping paper.

I am a writer in coders’ wrapping paper because I can have the personality of a helpdesk person as long as it’s the sensory environment of the server room. Better yet, I am talking to them in stereo headphones that block out everything else if I’m expected to write down what someone is saying while I’m listening. The good thing is that if those conditions are met, I type 90 words a minute and can take down everything they say down to the punctuation. Even then what I cannot do is sit in a room full of people who are also on the phone. That’s how 99% of helpdesks are set up to save space and encourage collaboration, which is great for 90% of people, maybe more. ADA accommodations are critical, which makes it harder to get a job because special does not equal valuable.

My screen time is dictated by the fact that I’m not Comic Book Guy, but I’m not not him, either. I have to fight through a system that was not built for me, and I just have to be okay with that. I have to work through autistic meltdown and burnout while people see me as defective and I also just have to be okay with that…. in relationships, at work, and in my own mind because nothing will ever get better in my lifetime and I’ll die mad about it.

Things like meltdown, burnouts, and demand avoidance are disabilities, not laziness. Our brains just aren’t built to accept it because we have no executive function. Asking a request of an autistic person will immediately cause loss of function. The best thing you can do is try not to spring things on autistic people because they have to prepare their environment to accept a demand in the first place. Failing that, writing everything down and giving us concrete steps that we can refer to later is key, because we can’t retain information verbally as easily as we can in text, and repetition is key, thus rereading the instructions.

The only way you can get things done quickly is if their excitement lines up with yours. For instance, I would have strength to go to the International Spy Museum easier than I would have the strength to stomach a rave, even though both are supposed to be fun (at a rave, I do a drug heavily called “caffeine.” It’s really fun. Look into it. 😛 Kidding, I don’t drink when I party because those are the experiences I want to remember the hardest. I don’t get many dancing and lights memories. Although I had a couple of beers at the Charlotte Cardin concert because beer and Canadians go together like “peanut butter and ladies.” The concert was at Union Stage, where they make beer in-house and it’s very good. I’m glad I branched out. The difference in preparing for that environment is that I didn’t go alone and I got notice a month in advance. Lindsay was with me and it made all the difference. Home became my environment and the club was superfluous. It reminded us very much of going to see Ben Folds Five at Numbers in the ’90s, about the same size club without the contact high. I also didn’t lock my keys in my car and we didn’t have to wait for our parents to come and bail us out. Charlotte Cardin didn’t wait with us until they got there, either, but Ben Folds did. I was 19 and looked younger. Lindsay was 14 and looked older. However, neither one of us looked like adults. I loved that he felt sorry for us because he was a dad long before he had Gracie.

One of the reason that I don’t get sensory issues about going to the Kennedy Center and The Reach is that Jason Moran and Robert Glasper both play there, which is the same feeling as my sister being with me because I’ve known them since ninth grade. The second is that Ben Folds is the artistic director for a concert series called “Declassified,” so it’s another feeling of home even in someplace unfamiliar. The best part is that there are a lot of artists that make me feel this way, because I’ve either sung with them, we have mutual friends, or we went to school together, and even Beyoncé is on that list. I’ve stood in the same room with her, but we’ve never met. She falls under the mutual friends category…. as does Yasiin Bey (Mos Def) because he was on tour with Robert the last time around.

I told Robert to tell Yasiin that he was my favorite alien (he played “Ford Prefect” in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy), and walked away realizing I’d lied because The Doctor is actually first. But oh, well. If they run across this, I’m so sorry.

If they do, it will be while managing their own screen time.

Who Doesn’t?

Do you need time?

We all need more time to understand things than we think we do, and are trying our dead-level best to overschedule; we’re all going place to place and taking in none of them. When I travel again, I’d like to stay at least a week if possible. It takes a while for my body clock to accept a new rhythm, particularly going east. Jet lag was objectively worse coming back to DC from Oregon than it was in the moments I was taking the obligatory Portland airport photo (iykyk). I am using jet lag as an example of needing time because it’s the best way I know how to explain autism to a layperson. Imagine feeling like you have the pressure of your emotions changing to that degree all the time rather than just after a long-haul flight. Taking on change is easier when you feel normal, right? Would you enjoy living in jet lag fog permanently?

This is why transition time is essential to the autistic brain, and why I am yet again grateful that I do not drive. I caused my last wreck from rumination. I’d talked to a close friend earlier in the day, and we hadn’t spoken for years before that. She’d ghosted me without a trace and then reappeared. It was jarring, a new environment for me, so I did what any normal person would do. I thought about it so hard I ran into a guardrail trying to blow town for Frederick, the closest Waffle House. I was about 800 feet from a triple order of hash browns with chili, cheese, and onions (superior to Frito Pie, fight me) when I took a curve a little too hard. Girls with blonde hair will do that to you.

Editor’s Note:

You should absolutely add Fritos to bean burritos at Taco Bell. Also, every once in a while when I hit 7-Eleven, I buy a snack bag of Fritos for the back of the pantry because I’m a Texan and I don’t make the rules. Sometimes you have to have Frito Pie and in that instance, there is no substitute so you might as well be prepared. Not being prepared is such a rookie Texan mistake, because whoever heard of homemade Fritos? You’re going to the store. It’s not that you can’t make AMAZEBALLS tortilla chips at home. I can and they’re fabulous. But they sure as hell don’t taste like Fritos…….. just like pastry chefs are going to use Oreos/Oreo crusts. They’re not going to reinvent that particular wheel.We’ve learned it over time.

Back to our regularly scheduled program.

What you learn with enough time is how to control your environment to the extent that you can and let go of the rest. I’m not going to be able to convince Supergrover that what she read as narcissism was actually an autistic meltdown. I am sure that she regularly thinks I am the most toxic person she’s ever met because I just keep throwing these truth bombs because I’m an asshole and not because I am genuinely curious and love her more than anything on earth. If I throw an emotional bomb, it means I care about the answer and want to hear it. I heard a line from “Friends” that expresses this so well…. when Chandler looks into Monica’s eyes and tells her that she’s high maintenance, but he likes maintaining her. I am not an asshole with a God complex, she has complex problems that cannot be solved with “yeah, I’m fine.” If you want to see a question as an attack, you will.

I honestly found out I was autistic because of this relationship. I had to find out two things. The first was why I was so empathetic on the inside and yet it came across as being self-absorbed. Everyone knows that autistic person, or we know each other. Bet.

I learned over time that the meltdowns happened in a cycle because I would unmask and start letting my brain run wild on these ADHD/Autistic tangents and she would take offense at me not acting like a woman, seriously, and I’m not being dismissive toward her. It’s that traditional women are programmed to fix/please and anticipate everyone else’s needs.

We used to be a little too much alike in that arena, but I felt safe enough to stop with her because she’s so goddamn strong. She lays down the truth bombs as easily and often as I do. It’s just that hers are in the context of what she knows, and mine are in the context of what I do. Her emotional bombs are surrounded by not understanding my neurodivergence, her stepping all over my ass while I’m trying to teach her why my reactions to her are so much more intense than her reactions to me and failing miserably. Why it feels like I’ll always go a little stupid in that dreamy-eyed kind of way when I think of her, and have to stuff that kind of emotion back because it’s part of a social mask I don’t have. Just so many sensory issues that I attach to her, like the smell of coffee or the feel of the t-shirt that I kidded her I ordered that “has her portrait on the front.”

I have already said that the building blocks of our relationship are adrenaline and dopamine. My ADHD/Autism created those memories of smell when my brain chemicals were the most flooded. It’s why I’m so attached to her with a love that won’t die, but not like I loved Dana. Like I love my parents and siblings. The thing is, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loves me the same way, because when Sam dumped me I told her and then she said her Mama Wolverine claws were coming in. I have never been so grateful for anything in my entire life because my next line to her was that my biggest delight in life was thinking about just how pissed off she was about this. It was that night I formed my first company. It’s called Leslie Lanagan & Pet Monsters on a Fraying Leash, Inc. We’re waiting on our 501, though.

When I become the most upset, I have a meltdown and then burnout. In those moments, burnout looks like me losing function and going mute, only communicating through writing. I get sensory issues from eating because it’s an ADHD hyperfocus interruption and I switch to vegan protein shakes. If that’s not enough, I develop sensory issues with leaving my house, reinforced by depression, anxiety, and an overactive imagination. The overactive imagination is a straight up problem because everything I imagine is a hundred times worse due to rejection sensitivity dysphoria, a common trait among neurodivergent people because we’ve been programmed to think of ourselves as problematic.

I should mention that there is also fascinating research suggesting that the number of autistic people who are nonbinary, queer, and poly is off the charts. My behavior suggests I’m not poly unless we’re talking about writing and physiciality, because emotional intimacy with multiple people is easy. Physically? Not so much. I’m just not wired that way. That doesn’t mean I’m not poly. It just means I probably wouldn’t meet someone on the ground and behave the same way. It remains to be seen whether I could manage that or not, and doing the work to see whether I’m doing the right thing for me or lending myself to getting into a situation where I can’t help myself and put someone I’ve made a monogamous agreement with completely uncomfortable because I broke the rules. Just because it happened organically doesn’t mean I didn’t cheat. Just because it only happened to me doesn’t mean I didn’t cheat. The road to hell was paved with good intentions.

I need to make it so clear that I cheated on Dana, but Supergrover didn’t cheat on Michael because of course since I’m queer, my reaction to her was different than her reaction to me. That doesn’t make my emotions to her invalid, just different. She also doesn’t have autism or ADHD, so none of her sensory issues are going to run as deep as mine, and she gave me some pictures that caused sensory issues, but not sexual ones. They activated my alpha dog and my mama wolverine. When I feel that way about someone, it makes me attracted to them…. and in fact, when I don’t feel connected to someone in that way, being physical doesn’t come up. Romance, as with all things, has two modes for me. Obsession and absolute disinterest. It’s why autistic people have trouble with relationships. If they have neurotypical partners who take everything personally, they will not be happy, and probably jump too quickly to the conclusion that their partners are lazy, unmotivated, and angry at them because of their rejection at lights out.

It was a relief to come to that resolution in my mind with Supergrover, that even though the relationship was not nor would ever be physical, I had learned a lot about the way I work in a relationship because she took so much personally that I never intended.

I remember telling her that it was really hard hearing about the abuse she endured as a child, that my heart walked out of my body and I just had to breathe through it. She thought I was trying to make her feel bad, but I was trying to explain both why our trauma bond was immediate and deep. She became a monotropic thought process, what I mean when I say she lives in my ink. I was telling her why I loved her with such intensity and drive, and that in some ways I was sorry that process came across as negative, but not sorry for loving her as much as I do. She’s amazing, and part of the reason that I haven’t fallen in love again is that I hold every woman to her standard and find other women uninteresting. Why would I put myself out there when intellectual stimulation is more important and no one gives it to me more than she does? No one will ever be able to beat her in that area, even though Zac and I are wrapped up in my special interest. It’s not because he’s not brilliant, it’s that we’re talking about history and she’s making it.

If you never believe another word I say, believe that.

She jokes that other women are the smartest woman in the room except her, but you don’t know the room where she said it and I do. She knows an actor I would kill to meet, and a director, and neither of them do what she does. She knows them by dumb luck, the same dumb luck that put us together. Karma is magic and I will never believe anything more than that. I got a gift from the universe at the exact moment it needed to drop in my lap, and my nose got red at that, the first signal I’m about to cry, when I wrote that. And yet, even Zac doesn’t know who she is and respects my privacy like I know when to stop pushing about work. She’s my “classified information,” for all practical intents and purposes. I could tell you if it wouldn’t embarrass her across the world, but I wouldn’t. I keep it tight to love her, not to diss you. The “classified information” joke just fits in with my whole vibe. I will never stop being, in the immortal words of Zac Wood, a “drooling fangirl” over CIA, but that’s only because I’ve seen the disparity between the way people treat soldiers and the way they treat spies. Civilians matter.

And I’m a judgmental bastard, just not of people. Of institutions and situations. It’s how I can feel every emotion in the spectrum about Supergrover. How love and fear are inextricably interrelated, why I have no problem walking on eggshells for years and yet struggled so hard with my needs being met that I finally walked away. It was killing my self esteem and better for me when I stopped letting it.

Doesn’t mean I don’t miss her, and at first it was every moment of every day. You don’t learn to let go overnight, and my writing has proved it. She’ll never be far from my thoughts, though, because in the last 10 years of my life, my thought processes and emotions regarding her have been so deeply ingrained. It’s why I even thought we’d be good for each other as partners in the first place, but not that I insisted on it. It was just too good a question not to ask, because it made sense at that point, a united front. But then my monotropic thought process spiraled out about that, too, and it was just bad juju. It was a question better left unanswered, I’m just autistic and ADHD. My autism made me hammer away at it and my ADHD gave me no impulse control.

I didn’t know how those diagnoses affected my behavior until I knew I had them. I only knew about one. I didn’t know about the other, that when I am in autistic mode relationships take over my whole brain because I’m also an INFJ. I wanted the best for both my red and yellow strings and got them tangled. It was a struggle to stop dwelling, but I’m glad I did it and I know the root cause.

I have learned not to let relationships take hold of me in that way because it makes me give all my energy toward making them a better person. All INFJs are attracted to teaching and social work sorts of positions because we want all of our close relationships to be the best people that they can be. I wasn’t obsessed with who Supergrover could be, but helping her to be her best self. An INFJ will not watch anyone stagnate.

It was all reinforced by the fact that it’s easier for me to talk to other people about their problems than it is for me to talk about mine, because then I can stop social masking. I can stop remembering to make my thought processes masked and just listen.

I notice things that no one else does and people call me brilliant for pointing it out when it’s something they love and hurtful even when I don’t mean harm. It’s a lost place to be when your self-esteem is dependent on other people to that extreme, because when you take off your social masking and other people react poorly, you drift toward making masking the priority and it drains your energy before you even have the spoons to leave the house. The meltdown/burnout cycle is real and it’s deep.

Neurotypical people can only take so much before they decide you’re too much for them, and that has been true of neurodivergent people since we were born. “Autism Speaks” has an awful video where a mother says in front of her child that she thought about strapping her into the car and killing them both. I am sure that she thought she could get away with it because her daughter wasn’t “high functioning,” whatever the fuck that means, and she has no idea what her daughter is capable of processing emotionally without being verbal. What if the internal tape that plays in her head is “my mom wanted to kill me and didn’t.” Being “high functioning” is being able to speak for the mute and letting them speak for me when I am….. more specifically, I am non-verbal a lot of the time but I can reach out through text.

I need the world to adapt around me, and I am not being selfish or egocentric when the problem runs as deep as children feeling like their parents don’t want them. I am not alone when I say that I feel the pain of being too much for people, driving my depression and anxiety. Everyone wants to stop me from drowning, but few people are willing to help me from falling into the river in the first place.

Supergrover did the best she could, just not fast enough for my autism not to kick in. A trauma bond is a hell of a drug. It’s what made me rearrange my life around her and not Dana. It was the same deal with her- I never wanted to have a situation with another partner where I leaked information that wasn’t supposed to go to them because I felt so bad when I did it. She forgave me and moved on, but thought it was impulsive to solve the problem.

When you have situations where your sensory issues attach to a problem and it gets deep fast, you move quickly…. often what leads to getting married in a hurry and things like that. You are always trying to create a secure environment and you’ll grasp at straws because acceptance of your neurodivergence is transient. Because of this, Supergrover is the longest of any of my significant relationships by almost three years. It was more significant to me because it was in my wheelhouse, the writing.

Her greatest gift to me was that time, and I’ve loved it despite walking away in frustration. I needed a secure environment and couldn’t get one, so I grasped at the comfort of isolation whether I wanted it or not.

I want more because she’s wonderful. I also love her enough to let her go because the relationship didn’t serve us presently like it did in the past. I didn’t have room for other people like Zac, and in some ways my pathways are so changed there might not ever be. Sam got in under the wire, but even then my attention didn’t completely turn.

I need more time to spend with her, but only in reflection if need be. I learned so much from her, and it’s time to take all that away because I don’t want to pour love into her if she does not accept it. I would rather be alone with my thoughts in that case. The affect she has on me is tremendous and I cannot underestimate its effect. She doesn’t think of her (or me) in this way, so it clouds our judgment on whether we’re telling the truth. We both have trauma reflexes, and don’t treat each other like we’re worthy of being treated like goddesses. That’s because the root of our anger is how we feel about ourselves. We are both fixer/pleasers, and both easily jump to the conclusion that the other means the worst.

For instance, when Supergrover said “I can do nothing about the past. I can do something about the present,” and “this is all I can manage,” I took it to mean I would never get anything I wanted and to die mad about it. What I didn’t say is “what can you do about the present that you haven’t in the past?” I saw the writing on the wall and pushed her away.

I will never know if I was correct, but I do know that our relationship had that cycle for 10 years and I didn’t want to do it anymore. There was quite a difference between Mama Wolverine and ignoring me because you think I’m goading and provoking you instead of asking me questions in return. We both got defensive immediately.

I never wanted a war, but I started it. I am only suffering under the terms and conditions of the surrender. My bad behavior was supposedly forgiven and I haven’t been able to express a need without nuclear war for eight years. I didn’t think she was lying because she said she forgave me. I thought she was lying to herself about how much she wanted to be friends with me because she always seemed pissed off. I know enough to know that the world doesn’t revolve around me, but I can feel the energetic difference between “I’m busy” and “I’m ignoring you” even in text.

For instance, I have lots of friends that I hope aren’t mad at me because I’ve gone mute and can’t handle conversations right now. I have enough energy for an occasional Facebook comment, but mostly I am spending my energy on changing my own thought processes here. I will never be able to sustain myself if I don’t. It is how my life is coming together, not how it is falling apart.

I had huge sensory issues that Zac didn’t tell me he had a roommate before I arrived on Sunday, but I told him that and he apologized. He wasn’t trying to offend me, just spaced it, but that didn’t render my feelings invalid. He’s a solid dude and remembers so many things I don’t remember saying, so I know he does listen to me, deeply, I just have to roll with it because he’s neurodivergent like me.

It’s why I need Zac, and why I need time.