Don't even bounce... Not in my house. Better hope you make it... Otherwise you naked. I am champion at beer pong.... Allen Iverson, Hakeem Olajuwon....
While this is my favorite verse of “I Love College” by Asher Roth (Houston represent), I cannot say that I’ve ever been to a wild party like that. I may have gone to some things that came close to frat-level foolishness, but we learned a lot while we were building communities.
The thing is, though, I became an adult before my time. I got married too young and didn’t handle it well. I shouldn’t have left University of Houston, and it’s been so long now that I just have to hope that now they don’t matter. Of course they do, but I’m a jack of all trades and most people who work with computers have a mixed bag of certifications, and a Bachelor’s may or may not be one of them. This is changing, perhaps, but I don’t think so. What I knew 10 years ago, people also knew 40 years ago. The information changes too fast for it to be published in books.
If you’re going to study computers in school, you need something like a language that doesn’t change. Object-oriented programming has the same concepts no matter the syntax. However, if you are the person in charge of taking care of every device in the department, you will not learn a single thing in school that you wouldn’t pick up in a week on the job. That’s because you’re dealing with problems with:
Apple MacOS
Windows
Ubuntu
Red Hat (sorry, Fedora….. old habits die hard…)
Android for phones
Android for tablets
Android for Galaxy Wear
Apple iOS for iPhone
Apple iOS for iPad
Apple iOS for Apple Watch
And if you’re a system administrator, you probably have to deal with even more operating systems than that. Maybe not now, but in 1999 I also had an account on our VMS/VAX machine, and flirted with Solaris (it doesn’t look much different from Red Hat or Debian back then).
Now, how likely are you to read about those things in a textbook when you need the information RIGHT THE FUCK NOW because Professor So and So is going to blow a gasket if she can’t receive e-mail on her phone for 30 seconds. Meanwhile, I’m Irish. I’ll deal with something being wrong the rest of my life. Probably why I have so many devices. I don’t put up with their crap. I have an extra to use when I have to blow away the whole thing and start over because such and such app has hosed such and such setting.
Knowing how to do all that is something I learned in college, but because I worked full time for the IT department while I was a student. It was a tremendous load for a person with AuDHD, and I did not last long in that position. When I got to DC in 2001, I collapsed for a few weeks while Kathleen got settled at the office and I took care of all the house stuff. Then, later, when I was supposed to start at George Mason, she told me that she couldn’t pay my tuition anymore. I understood, but it didn’t make me happy because I’d already paid her rent for a couple of years at that point…… because she was a student, and I had a job.
I never should have ended up with her to begin with, and the red flags that I should have seen were because I was her boss for three months. She was just a summer hire, so my boss didn’t worry that we were together. She wasn’t there all the time, I was.
Now, I’ve worked for my stepmother for an extended period of time, and then I wanted to be a line cook and my wife was the perfect teacher. Both of those experiences have told me that Kathleen’s behavior while I was her boss was just egregious and I should have fired her on the spot, because in that moment (not all the time, just when push came to shove IN MY OFFICE) I was the boss. Objectively. What I had that Kathleen did not was a willingness to recognize that she was not at the top of the food chain because she acted like she had my authority…. to me.
When most of my life, I’ve been calling my stepmother “Doctor” and my ex-wife “Chef.”
I didn’t have Kathleen fired, I was relieved when I found out we were moving and that would be the end of the line for me trying to manage the unmanageable. I know how to be on and off the clock. Most adults do……..
All of this being said, I did go to between four and six years of classes, because I went part time at one point. I really only have a few classes to finish up my junior year, and then I’m onto the last stretch. The problem with that is that I’ve already taken everything I liked.
I got an F in Intro to Poetry because I had a full-time job during summer school. So, I wrote two outstanding papers and had an A+ in the class, but my professor failed me anyway because I didn’t show up three times. I was at work- what could I say? If I had known you couldn’t miss three days in a semester if you had perfect grades, I wouldn’t have done it. It just never occurred to me that it was something that could happen, but I don’t do well with injustice and I think this is it. I know I’m not a poet, but I at least understand it well enough to write about it, even if I don’t use the form myself.
I’m starting to learn what I’m going to do in this one wild and precious life, and word is beginning to spread. I’ve been invited to be a guest on “The Dark Room Podcast,” and here’s the thing that really made me sit up a little straighter…… they don’t really know me. They know my work. Apparently, I am interesting enough to be a podcast guest now…. or maybe I always have been, I just didn’t realize it.
I am most happy when all my relationships are in balance. I do not expect perfection in anything, but I do expect excellence. I’ve gotten to a point in my life where I can pick out patterns that I do not like and ask to change them. If it doesn’t happen, I don’t keep hammering the point anymore, because people’s actions tell you their intentions. I have a larger tolerance for it the longer our relationship, but I do not feel guilty for setting boundaries. I am allowed to take up space in the world.
My opinion matters, even when it’s wrong, because I am not explaining something to be right. I am explaining something to be heard. The one way to truly piss me off= the quickest and shortest path to rage, is this conversation.
Neurotypical: Explain to me exactly how this happened. Leslie: (starts explaining an AuDHD amount) Neurotypical: I don’t need your fucking excuses.
What I have not done is actually call people on it. I could have said so many times, “you asked me to explain, and I did, so I am not getting why you’re annoyed/angry.” This conversation happens quite frequently with neurotypical bosses…. or in the kitchen, because there’s no time for an AuDHD-length explanation. I am at a loss because I do not know what neurotypical people do in the same situation, because I am not picking up what you’re putting down if you ask me for an explanations and then write me off as making excuses. I don’t do excuses.
For instance, with this blog I feel like I’ve made it clear that I’ve done a lot wrong. At no time have I excused my own behavior away, and I’m not using my entries as justification, either. These entries are all context, because behavior doesn’t come out of a vacuum….. and for me, context is important. I am not trying to merely understand a situation, but to grok it.
It is honestly how I am able to be so forgiving and loving in my relationships, because if I start with the axiom that I’m not perfect, it allows me to see others’ humanity as well….. particularly if I write about them. Writing allows me to see the ways I’ve been treated in both negative and positive ways, and that is the nature of relationships. No one is wrong or right all the time. You are often presented with situations in which both halves of the relationship are right to different degrees…. and instead of focusing on the 80% on which we’re agreed, we’ll fight tooth and nail over 20% of a problem. Or worse, we won’t tell each other our feelings at all, content to resent.
If someone says nothing is wrong, and it clearly is, the energy surrounding them pushes you away. It’s your body’s intuition saying something is wrong, and you have to believe your intuition over what people are saying. This is very much affected by depression, because someone else’s words will come across to you differently than they would if you didn’t have it.
The way I handle this is to acknowledge that my attachment style is anxious; all I ask is that people not irritate it. I choose to do this by communicating early and often, and to take people’s words to the bank and see if they cash. If they say nothing’s wrong, but there’s no concrete reason for them to be snappish and nitpicking, then they’re probably not telling the truth. So, you ask what’s wrong and if nothing changes, you don’t have the right to say “you’re the one that needs to change, because I’ve tried everything.” I can only control my actions, not theirs. I also won’t do other people’s emotional work for them. I have consistently found people with avoidant attachment styles and made them out in my head to be more emotionally capable than they are. It leads me to believe that people will rise to an occasion that just never will.
That’s because I don’t believe there are red flags, and I’ve never been wrong to hold onto a relationship with a deeply flawed person, because I am also deeply flawed. I don’t get the kind of love I need from unbroken people, because if you’ve never been through trauma, you will come to resent me. Here’s something really scary. I have never in my lifetime had to look for a girlfriend with trauma. It’s not because I chose the most toxic woman in the room, it’s because I was dating women.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
People who haven’t been through trauma treat PTSD like autism in that even if you don’t know someone is autistic, you know their reactions are different from yours and you somehow judge your own reactions less harshly than mine. But honestly, it’s not blame I can put on anything but the fact that neurotypical people have always believed they were more capable than neurodivergent people because workplaces reward all the things that come easily to allistic people and feel threatened by neurodivergence because we’re not “following the script.”
I believe that I could work out a two state solution for Israel and Palestine easier than I could make myself follow a morning and evening routine for any length of time. I have empathy for demand avoidance, because I’ve felt it down to taking a shower. I have empathy for executive dysfunction, because I panic when I have more than two things on my plate. The absolute worst feeling in the world to me is presenting my task list to my boss and asking which is the most important and them saying it doesn’t matter. What I have learned is that it means “it doesn’t matter if you’re neurotypical, because what you accomplish is not what I would have accomplished, nor any other neurotypical.” It is not that one is morally superior, it’s that an autistic person has different pattern recognition than an allistic one. Therefore, all autistic thought processes are going to seem ludicrous to a neurotypical boss.
To be fair, if I’m not doing something that 90% of people would do, it’s not all the boss’s fault. It’s lack of education. No one knows what to do with autistic people after they graduate high school. I have been lucky in that I have had some neurotypical bosses who have also been parents of neurodivergent kids. Therefore, they had experience in “being the boss of” someone neurodivergent and how to get them to perform what you need because the way of asking looks different. I also think that I get along better with female bosses than male, because that’s another communication style difference when it comes to empathy. Most female bosses- most, not all- understand the neurodivergent way of thinking even if they’re neurotypical because dollars to donuts if their kids aren’t ADHD, they’ve still been around ADHD kids their whole lives. Because which parent is usually the one who knows their kid’s friends?
Plus, there’s little discernable difference in being neurodivergent and being female, because violence occurs to all women to varying degrees. Not one of us escapes it, and one in four women have been raped. PTSD, particularly when it’s chronic (e.g. raped in childhood), will give you the same symptoms as ADHD and autism; the trauma rewires your thought processes and reactions. Most people make the mistake of thinking that going on medication and doing therapy will fix everything and it will all go back to normal. This is untrue.
If you had an idea of what your life would have looked like before trauma and you’re trying to get back there, it’s never going to happen. Give up. Slash those old dreams, because they’re the ones you won’t fulfill and think it’s “your fault.” You have to make a new dream starting from where you are, not where you used to be. That map marker fell off the day you were traumatized. We all tend to undercut the abuser on how much we were abused, and take more responsibility than we need. For me, it was always that I deserved to feel the way I did because I asked for it, and that’s not unique at all. Most abused children think this. I was never physically abused, and it didn’t matter. Emotional abuse hurts worse to someone who already has bipolar depression.
In my case, it’s not really bipolar depression. My downs are so incredibly profound that hypomania looks like a regular person amount of energy…. one on caffeine, I’ll grant you, but a regular person nonetheless. My biggest symptom of hypomania is insomnia. I have roughly the same thought processes in an up that I do in a down, I just don’t get enough rest unless I take sleeping medication, and even then sometimes it fails. It depends on how married to the idea of being awake my brain is that day.
Not sleeping well makes me focus on what’s wrong instead of what’s right. I self-sabotage a lot, because I attribute negative things that aren’t there….. and in a relationship with an avoidant attachment style, you won’t know whether your negative feelings are wrong or right….. because they’re avoidant.
Which brings us up to now.
Zac and Bryn are partner-level close to me because if I say I feel anxious, they’ll tell me whether I am right or wrong in terms of their emotions. They will not let the story I’m telling myself be that they’re avoiding something and don’t want to be close. I won’t let them tell themselves that story, either.
If you’re not emotionally avoidant, you have to ask yourself how long you’ll tolerate someone who is. That’s because good relationships don’t function with that kind of blame cycle. “If I don’t tell you how I feel, then I don’t have to express myself AND I can also blame you for not considering something you didn’t know.” I can assure you that your needs will never get met by me if you do not tell me what they are. To think that I should be able to root around in your head and find your feelings is crazymaking….. particularly when it comes to things like my relationship with Sam. She couldn’t say “I want you all to myself and I also don’t have time for you,” so she couldn’t let me deal with it and decide what I was going to do. So, when I told her that I had a date with Zac, it was during one of our very first conversations because I wanted my words and actions to line up. I knew Zac wouldn’t care what I decided, I just needed to give him more information, too. I would have been fine with it if Sam had said she wanted me to herself. I’m a writer. I don’t need to see people in person much to connect with them. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, but it was because she didn’t ask for it and lashed out.
By lashing out, I mean that my first date with Zac was on a Wednesday, and we had plans for dinner the next Monday. She couldn’t wait that long. Breaking up with me had to be done while I was with him, apparently. She admits that things were going great and she just flipped out, so I’m not telling tales out of school. She thought she could handle it, and she couldn’t. But what she didn’t get didn’t come from something I couldn’t provide. It came from something for which she never asked.
I will not put up with any kind of loyalty test based on “if you really liked me, you would…” This is because you don’t say those things out loud, they’re societal conventions anyway, so it’s not like I’m not thinking the same thing…… No, I can guarantee that our thought processes are nowhere near similar. I have the rarest personality type in the world, literally a Christ figure because the historical Jesus is thought of as “INFJ,” then made even more rare with AuDHD. In fact, there is such a large crossover between autism and INFJ that I’m wondering if Jesus was autistic as well. His robes were all made of the same material, as well as his shoes, and he only ate like five things. I’m laughing, but really. The Sermon on the Mount seems like it was written by an autistic person. Who would wish more for the meek to inherit the earth?
That thought makes me the most happy, the Advent devotional that’s something missing from the diaspora. Maybe I’ll take it on, because if there’s female theology, queer theology, etc. there should definitely be neurodivergent theology. People who are mentally and physically disabled are very much part of the Disinherited (“Jesus and The Disinherited” is a relatively small book, always found in an inside pocket of Martin Luther King, Jr’s suit coat.). Liberation theology means more to those who need it. Not that all people aren’t worthy of having their wrongs forgiven. Not all people look at the resurrection in the light of Jesus having to struggle…. losing the battle, but not the war. His ideas got him killed, and it takes a strong man to say that these ideas will last forever even if I don’t.
It’s why I write digitally instead of in a paper journal. I know from The Wayback Machine that things on the internet don’t disappear. There’s the lesson. If you’re famous enough that dirt on you is a good thing, it doesn’t matter if you take it down or not. Whether you’re immortalized in the Wayback Machine before you take it down is directly linked to how fast you remove it. The longer you wait, the more likely it is that the Internet Archive has taken a snapshot of the server. For instance, Matt Rife will never be able to live down sending people to a web site for disabled kids’ helmets as an “apology” for his domestic violence jokes….. this is not problematic to me, that he will go away at some point; I never thought he was that great a comedian in the first place. Like, some clever lines, to be sure, but I took him about as seriously as I took Dane Cook. I’d rather see Matteo Lane than Dane Cook, because he isn’t a commercial for toxic masculinity and does the same kind of crowd work.
Crowd work makes me happy, whether it’s a brilliant comedian or rapper, because clever written lines are my jam. I feel like rappers tend to be more like Stephen Fry than anyone else, because in order to drop a verse, you have to know a little bit about everything. For instance, readers are better rappers than non-readers, just like novelists are better writers when they read, fiction or not.
Stephen Fry, rappers, and writers are all deconstructing words as we use them, and rappers do it faster than the rest of us. You don’t have to be smart to enter the arena (and bring a knife), but you have to be smart to win at freestyle verse. That’s because I believe it was easier for Billy Joel to write “We Didn’t Start the Fire” than it was to do the research for it. Imagine what you’d have to do to be able to think of something that clever on the fly….. and yet rappers do it all the time.
Listening to rap and hip hop is when I’m the most happy…. because the only people who come close are bloggers like me.
In order to know why it means so much to me, you’d have to know the circumstances in my life when it came out. Maybe six months before, my wife had slept with two of her coworkers in one weekend while I was out of town, and I know that because she called me while I was still away to tell me that and break up with me. I was not feeling particularly kind toward women at the time. I couldn’t get angry, but my music could. Eminem literally became the paramedic healing my emotional wounds, because his pain stood out to me. I am Stan yet I have wonderful boundaries and I don’t care he didn’t write me back. 😉 I hate to do this to all my other favorites, but this one takes the cake.
That anger went away quicker than it would have on its own because through someone else’s eyes I could see that my pain was valid in his artistic expression……. when to put out my own was worse because I protected her when I shouldn’t have on my blog and only told my closest friends how bad it got. I can look at either one of them and they know which person I mean when I say “Sgt. Fucktard” and both of them will fall out with laughter, because now I can laugh about it, too (such a pity that neither live in DC now).
I barely even remember her name is Kat anymore, and that’s for the better. Karma was good to me. If she knew what I knew about what happened to me, she’d be too jealous to be happy, and that would be true if I’d never published anything at all, especially blog entries. It’s a beautiful thing when you meet someone that is worth your career. It puts everything into perspective really, really fast. The love of my life isn’t out of romance, it’s that she has a space in my heart no one else can have or will ever duplicate because I have to lose the master.
Also, this part of “Cleaning Out My Closet” made me stronger: “have you ever been hated or discriminated against? I have. I’ve been protested and demonstrated against… picket signs for my wicked rhymes…” It felt a lot like blowback from my web site because I have never been protested against by more than one or two people at a time, but it felt like hell because my first reaction was always to pull the plug; I wanted to please them and my career said “people think you’re a good writer. If you want to be able to do this for money, you have to keep going. Dooce didn’t become Dooce overnight and you won’t become Leslie Lanagan that fast, either.” Eminem slowly gave me the confidence to push away people who don’t like being on this blog and gather the people who tolerate it, even if they don’t outright love it.
I felt like Supergrover felt like she was in some sort of hostage situation, that I was writing about her to provoke her so she’d have to be stuck with me, yet didn’t get that my feelings would naturally go away if I wasn’t focusing constantly on her. This is, in fact, not our situation at all. She’s acting blind when she shouldn’t or can’t.
She’s my first thought every day, nearly every moment because I accidentally went from a blogger to a journalist in 15 seconds flat. It’s not as cool as it sounds, but yes it is. Both extremes are enormous, and I cannot cope with the downside alone. I shouldn’t have to ever and it’s a gift she can’t or won’t give. I feel that by letting me into the little things, I have more material to protect her because I have a bigger library of analogies to protect her identity publicly, because she might not freak in my personal life (although she very well might, too), but there would be hell to pay if it leaked here, and she would be well within her rights and responsibilities to hate my guts. I don’t protect her like a lover. It’s so much deeper than that.
I’m neurodivergent. Rambling like this at parties just doesn’t happen. I am literally using my quirks for me rather than against thanks to having the strength to stand up for myself. It’s just that now, one of the friends I ramble about is the least likely to need or want it. So, I cut her loose off and on to see if these feelings will go away and they never do, because either I’ll apologize again or she’ll drop in and yet won’t. Three word e-mails most of the time aren’t going to cut it and she’s avoiding it and blaming it on time. It’s a conversation we desperately need to have in a situation where we can’t have it. Given the option, I’d choose her over writing every time, mostly because she’d never ask me to pull the plug unless this was a real problem and not a possible one. She thinks I’m entitled to my stories even when they’re all bullshit, but doesn’t realize they’re all bullshit because I’m doing the very thing I need to do. Even when I’m angry.
Especially when I’m angry. Right now I’m angry that she doesn’t see that she opened up herself to having a right hand ring out of necessity and by blowing up each other’s lives and not talking about it, the right hand ring burns us instead of tempers. She thinks I should get over it. I think I should think through it with her brain and my heart, because that’s how we show love. She does the thinking, I do the feeling. She would rather have a root canal than acknowledge what she’s done and move on from it, because it seems to me that I’m activating guilt where it doesn’t belong by needing something she doesn’t deal with in herself and also needs desperately. We could support each other, but we don’t. That ship, in some respects, has crashed against the rocks because of a Siren, and now she’s having a heart attack. Because she doesn’t have time to heal me and feels guilty, because she thinks I’m asking for so much more than I really am.
I don’t need to have chocolate and coffee with her every week, I need her to acknowledge that she’s the Earl Grey in the box, the one most people sleep on and I adore because she didn’t sleep on me. I am not the person that when she comes to work all this out, I heap guilt on her. I express needs and that’s what she reads, so she doesn’t respond like a mama wolverine when she’s the issue, but God help everyone else. There are a couple people in my life that if they became mutual friends, they’d regret it. I would have looked forward to seeing that in person. Something equivalent to “surely you do not believe that this person who is a mental bag of rocks is worthy of you?” Probably everything I would have felt about her husband until I realized that he was perfect for her and I was wrong. I have never been convinced that we would be even close to happy as partners, we’re just connected by chance. The enlightening that she found her person would have been a good day, too.
Lesbians totally have a straight guy side to them in terms of possession and jealousy because we’ve been taught to act that way by men. Not that they’ve straight up told us that, they’ve just modeled it for centuries. In my head I’m Anne Lister without the hairstyle. It’s unfortunate that Supergrover married a man on purpose and a gentleman jack by accident with loyalty, because now she has two guard dogs that probably wouldn’t always agree with each other (but I’m certainly willing to have that fight as it is so worth having).
The Eminem Show had the same effect on me that my mother’s cemetery has on me now. It gave me perspective on the fact that more people than me were in pain much worse than mine. It helps me now to release pain in the situation with Supergrover, because I will never be jealous, but always possessive where she’s concerned. She hasn’t made the connection that she needs me to be possessive. I see something she doesn’t. It sucks.
History repeats with music, because it also contains some of the tracks she likes. I’m naturally gravitating towards it. One of the things I remember from our first few years is listening to that album again because some of her favorites are ones I usually skipped, but became beautiful to me because she loved them. I am listening to this album because I have the right to that much anger and I feel same type pull that makes me crave her words, while she thinks I am telling her that I regret meeting her when I need her to open up. I am doing my best to curb my enthusiasm, but it cannot go away so it won’t. I am the Impossible Girl because I have to be wound into her whether I want to be or not, because it’s for life, even by accident.
It’s an album, a presentation. I haven’t bought any songs separately.
I bought the album, so I go to all the concerts, waiting for a Piccardy Third that might never come. We’re in the middle of the rap battle, not the delight of singing to Hailie. I look forward with hope because to not is not being me. When we resolve, so does the chord.
If and when it does, get ready for “the most feared duet since me and Elton played career Russian Roulette.”
Stories That Are All True 