post written 23/06/2013

Right, time for part two of my epic post on physical sensitivity and all the things that are tangled up in that web. I’ll try and keep things… um… making sense and on track and stuff. {And by the way, I have no idea why this paragraph has gone all "reverse indent" on me, or how to fix it!}

Pain: 

I have fibromyalgia – which I sometimes call hypochondriac syndrome. Basically, FMS (short for Fibromyalgia Syndrome) is something, like Aspergers, that you are born with. It’s Chronic Pain Syndrome – something to do with connective fibres and soft tissues, basically. Kind of a form of arthritis I guess, but not quite. I have found out, since I started looking into Aspergers and the online communities around, that quite frequently females with Aspergers also have FMS. I would say it’s a co-morbid possibility but… I have really lapsed on my AS research of late. It was an obsession at the start, back when The Aspie Bestie was diagnosed and I discovered Aspergers and the possibility I might have it, but then it… {I haven’t the words to put here, which is an unusual thing for me, especially when I’m writing. I just sort of stopped being so fanatically into Aspergers, after reading Aspergirls by Rudy Simone the first time. Also in late March I met a girl who described herself as ‘mildly’ aspergers, which made me thing “If she’s mild, I probably won’t even be a speck on the spectrum” and I went off it more, although I still wanted a diagnosis to be sure.}

Anyway, FMS is all about pain. So I have a lot of things that I always just attributed to that. Every so often I would have what I called “a bad fibro day” and on those days even the hairs on my arms moving (in the breeze, or being moved by clothes or people touching them, I don’t have sentient arm hairs) would cause enough pain that I didn’t want to function. I would have to get up in the night and shave my legs, and compulsively moisturise my entire body, because my leg hairs were irritating, and I could feel my skin dehydrating and it hurt. Not every night, just sometimes. Take now, for example. I can feel the cold seeping into my bones, my hips/pelvis near the base of my spine, and into the sides of my breast area. The cold is sharp and insidious and biting. The pressure on this bone/joint area – just from the weight of me sitting down – makes it worse. It’s getting so that all I can think of is this pain. If I didn’t have to be at work, for the money, I wouldn’t be sitting at all. I actually have a lot of days where I can’t sit for long periods of time, due to the FMS, and most of the time at home is spent in bed. Hoppy called me lazy but if you were in pain most of the time, wouldn’t you want to be lying down a lot?

Now, knowing what I know, I’m more inclined to attribute those days to Aspie Hypersensitivity. Or some of them at least.

Hypersensitivity to external stimuli would be a very reasonable explanation for the pain or discomfort I feel most of the time. Lights and smells and sounds can all cause irritation that is translated into a headache that won’t go away. When my sense of touch {for lack of a better thing to call it} is being hypersensitive, that will be the cause of the days where clothes irritate me and I can feel each individual hair being ruffled or my dry skin feels too tight, too dry to the point of pain.





Sometimes, Being Different Really Pays Off

This may be a metaphor, with deeper meanings, but the base view of it is simple.

(I'm fascinated that I found this draft blog post, written in September 2014. I don't know where I was going with it, but I'm posting it now)

as an FYI - maybe I'll start blogging again

Why My Anxiety is just as valid as yours

I have anxiety attacks as well as stress attacks that make me lose my voice.

My fight-or-flight instinct is so strong that it nearly knocks me unconscious. Literally.

But my fight-or-flight instinct errs on the side of "fight”

My body prepares itself for every small potential disagreement as if it was an end of the earth argument.

My body and mind both tell me that this is a fight for my life, a fight for survival, that I might die if I don’t defend myself to the best of my ability.

And so, my body amps itself up for a fight.

In an anxiety attack, I will be (metaphorically) armed to the teeth and ready to defend myself to the death. My heart will be pounding so hard, blood rushing through my ears, that I can’t hear what I’m saying, let alone what you’re saying. I will be dizzy, I will have trouble standing upright, my arms will feel weightless or incredibly heavy. I will have to fold my arms or put my hands on my hips.

If I can’t hear what I’m saying, I might have to repeat myself – multiple times. Or I might start talking louder. Often, I don’t realise I’m doing this.

I become tongue tied, and the words in my head can’t make it out. The frustration for this causes me to curse and swear, because it’s like being trapped in your own head. I’m a genius but when I’m having an anxiety attach you wouldn’t know it.

If the anxiety attack is bad, and I start fidgeting my hands, this is because I actually feel like I need to rip my fingers off. Do you understand how it feels, to have your body tell you that to stop this anxiety attack and to make yourself be better understood you have to rip your own fingers off? If it’s mild I might want to rip my hair out, or bang my head against a wall. But if it’s bad, I want to rip my fingers off.

Do any of the things described sound like I’m physically attacking the other person? Because nowhere in the summary of events is any attack going to happen on anyone who isn’t me.

But people take yelling as intimidation – it’s because I’m effectively deaf.

But people take stance as a “power pose” – it’s because I’m propping myself up.

Why am I mentioning all this? Because I’m sick to death of people writing me off. You have anxiety attacks? So do I. Mine are bad, and they are real. They are no less valid because they’re different from yours.

Stop being a narcissist, stop using your power plays and your little threats. Stop assuming that you’re better than me because your anxiety attacks make you a victim while mine make me a weaponised attacker – because mine still make me a victim and you are still attacking me.

My Learning Style

If you go through a list of learning styles, you’ll find the typical: Learn by asking, learn by listening,

learn by doing... They have their proper names I know, and people can be a blend. I probably fit into

those spectra; I think I've done a test before. But my real learning style does not really fit into a nice

compact box.

I call my learning style (and yes, I made this up less than 5 minutes before I started writing this)

“Learn by Systematic Chaos”

The oxymoron in the title is purposeful – chaos being the opposite of organisation so something that

you can’t have in a systematic order.

If I’m just listening – all attention focused on the act of listening to what the instructor is saying –

this is the worst possible thing for me in reality. If I’m actively trying to focus just on the [teacher/

tutor/lecturer/trainer] (insert whatever term applicable here) and not (fidgeting, writing, talking)

doing something unrelated to what’s being said, then rather than my body racing away from the

subject at hand with my mind free to learn and absorb; my mind is racing at a million miles an hour

and the sound of the air conditioner becomes too loud, I can feel the muscle fibres in my neck at

such an intensity that I can’t figure out how to position my head (and every angle feels wrong) and

all of a sudden I have to concentrate on remembering to breathe in and out.

Which of those two options sounds like the one that enables me to learn?

That up there is one scenario, one way that things can screw things up when I try to learn. There are

innumerable alternate scenarios and situations and, and, and...

Exactly.

My Brain Has So Much It Wants To Write

And I do mean so so SO much.

It's been 10 months since I last blogged (I think) and I feel terrible because of that. It's probably been 8 or nine months since I ever really wrote at all, apart from for work (National Novel Writing Month... yup that would about be it)

I plan on writing more.

Or trying to at least.

Watch this space ...

why do i stay up late?

I just had a brilliant thought.

It went along the lines of this:

"I could chop all my fingers off."

Just, you know, a random suggestion that popped into my head as a solution... to what I  don't know.

So I ask again. Why do I stay up late?

6 hours left til I have to wake up but not only am I not sleepy, I plan on watching just one more episode of Grey's Anatomy before I try...

This is my prediction; me tomorrow. Somewhere, out of nowhere, there is going to be a wave and it's going to hit me face on and knock me off my feet.

A metaphorical, work related wave no doubt, not an actual wave like this one, but you get the picture.

{and I get the feeling it'll be a little worse than saying "lime" instead of "life", or writing "donut" instead of "doubt"...}

You knew what I was like when you met me

You knew what I was like when you met me,
because I never hid who I was.
I have never really known who you are,
because I can't see below the surface as well as you,
because I never thought to think you would lie.
You gave people-pleaser answers,
you said everything a girl would want you to say.
You made me fall in love with you
but now I think it was all a game.

At six months, you didn't break my heart.
You shattered it.
And that hurt,
even though we "got back together",
that hurt lasted six months.
At least.

Since then you have been remaking me
changing me into who you want me to be.
Or trying to at least.
And if I look at the past with unbiased eyes,
you were doing it long before then.
The only difference is,
before you were doing it with your pretty people-pleasing lies,
and now you do it with hard cold eyes
and one hand holding tight to the leash my love has made around my neck.

You are the only person whose opinion matters,
you are the only person who I care if you think I look good or not.
Well I'm trying to change that
I tell myself,
I tell others,
that my opinion about my body is the only one that matters.
But when I say that I'm lying.

I've done things I said I would never do,
I thought I never could do,
all to please you.
Because no matter how much you've changed,
I always remember you as you were.

Always remember when you said you loved me.

Always wish that things hadn't changed.

Preparation

So this post was brought on by a specific situation, but it is a problem in general for me.

I like to be prepared: I like to know "when" and "where". I do not think that this is an Aspie issue, but something that most people will recognise.

I also like to know "why", "for how long", "how" and many other things. This bit seems to be just me, although I could be wrong.

Specific situation that made me think up this blog post?

Work related - of course. I get the feeling that all the things that are new or anxiety inducing - and therefore blog-worthy - in the near future, well the majority of them are going to be work related.

In two days, the people in my training group are going to start going on the phones. We aren't going to be fully "Live" (work's jargon for being on the phone and fully trained, able to answer any type of call, and whenever I think the word, I think it with a capital 'L') so I have decided to call what we are when we're on the phones during training "Zombie Live".

Why is going Zombie Live on the phones an issue for me? Because I don't feel prepared.

There is no specific script - just general stuff that we either have to say or can say, stuff we're not allowed to say and stuff we shouldn't say. And most of the things in those categories are generalities not specifics.

I do like me some specifics.

We are learning the stuff necessary to be allowed to answer peoples calls. Like code of conduct, privacy laws, and the basics of the computer system we'll be in. And when I say basics, I mean bare-bones basics. That doesn't bother me too much.I mean, what I know isn't the problem.

What I don't know is.

I always struggle with that interview question: "Can you tell us about a time where you have failed/made a mistake, and what you did to make sure it never happened again?"

And I struggle because I avoid doing things until I know without a doubt that I can do them - in a situation where I feel like I can be judged on my ability.

I mean, if a simple conversation can be both misunderstood and reported back to our teacher so that I get told off for being prejudiced {I will have to get into that more in depth in another post because I really should be getting to sleep soon} then we really are being judged on everything and that is just so much pressure!

Tell us exactly how to do what it is that you want us to do! I just can't help stressing about it!!!

The New Job Dramas

Wow, it has been ages since I posted.

I guess the first thing I should cover is: My previous job (desk job with no customer interaction) has ended, I had a lovely week long stint of unemployment dog sitting for my grandparents and now I have a new job (currently in training but eventually phone/customer service job dealing constantly with customers eight hours a day).

There are a couple of things I need to cover in my post, and they're in no specific order of importance, so I guess I'll just get stuck into it.

Friends/Groups
So, on day one (today being the last day of week one) we sort of fell into a couple of groups - by the way, I'm in a training group so all of us are new all at once, nobody knew anyone else beforehand. At that stage it was a blend of boys versus girls, and this side of the room versus that side of the room, the natural dividing lines for peer groupings in a situation like this (stated not as fact, but my opinion or general observation)

At that stage, I felt like I was at the same stage as everyone else. Mingling (and yes I am an attempted mingler even though I am Aspie - I'm one of the ones who wants to feel included but doesn't know how) and trying to find my place in the group. But still, part of a group.

By now, day five, some of the groups (one in particular) seem well defined. The one that I originally felt a part of, I now feel like an outlier - I'm there and they'll talk to me, but there's something slightly awkward between me and them. Even worse, the group I originally attached to seems to be two orbiting groups which often but not always intertwine - Sub-Group Alpha and Sub-Group Beta I'm going to call them (for the hell of it). I am more Sub-Group Alpha, say, and there are five of us. Two of them have a mutual friend and seem to have bonded over that, and the other two seem to have bonded just over the fact that they sit together - which isn't fair because I sit on the other side of them so why did they bond and I didn't?

But anyway, of my sub group I'm the odd one out, which just pushes me further to the side in the actual group, but the other groups are more firmly formed than ours to the point where they look at me like I'm a space alien if I try to sit with them rather than my group.

So I'm feeling more and more like an outsider.

And I don't know if it's real or imagined.

I Have Forgotten The Other Stuff I wanted To Talk About
Sorry for that. Got stuck on one rant and I'm not yet back into the swing of things as far as blogging goes.

More's the pity.

This is actually the first writing of any kind I've done in ages...

Well I'd better run :)

Emotional Crap.

It is so unbearably hard to pretend I’m fine when really I’m not. Insanely hard. Smile cracked and wavering, eyes stinging, blinking away tears that won’t quite come. My throat is like sandpaper, but it’s been like that for a while so I don’t think the two are related. Often I’ll stare into nothing for five, ten minutes, doing nothing but stare. In those times I’m not even conscious of thinking. Sometimes. And those are the best times. But then I’ll shake myself and blink and I’ll be back here, feeling this pain.

I realised the other day that I only seem to remember the bad things. And small things can devastate me. Like, it is insane how much tiny, tiny things can set me back. I actually tried to make myself disassociate {and yes, both ‘disassociate’ and ‘dissociate’ are valid spellings, even my spell check tells me that. One is the American spelling and the other is the right spelling J } the other night to make me forget something. I just didn’t want to have that sadness in my head or in my heart.

Is it bad that, now that I know I do it, I’m trying to use it to my advantage? Maybe, I will concede that. But I think I’m allowed. I remember EVERYTHING and I don’t want to have to. So if I have this tool in my arsenal, this magic wand to take away the bad, I will try and use it. At least I’m not getting oblivion drunk to get rid of the memories. At least I’m not hurting myself physically. That has to count for something, right?

I don’t know.

Anyway, this post is about emotions. Why do I feel them so strongly? Why does every tiny little thing hurt like it’s the end of the world? Maybe because it is. I wasn’t taught how to deal with my emotions when I was younger, maybe because nobody knew the extent to which I was different, mentally and emotionally. Maybe because I never started feeling things this strongly until I was 18 or 19 years old. That’s when I had my first anxiety attack, my first 3 month long bout of depression, my first love…

It’s true, all my emotions and the divide between positive emotions and negative ones grew exponentially stronger when I hit 18/19. I do not know why. There is a very black and white division between my emotions, and the physical memory thing sticks for emotions as well. Just as I cannot remember what my little finger looked like before I had this scar on it, and I cannot remember what I looked like 6 months ago, as far as I’m concerned I always looked like this and always will; when I am sad I cannot remember ever being happy and I cannot imagine ever feeling happy again.

I wish it was like that when I’m happy but honestly, I have no idea what it’s like when I’m happy.

When I am sad (like I am right now) I can still laugh, I can still be amused, I can still be excited or smile. But the underlying emotion is sadness and that bugger won’t go away. No matter how hard I try.

People have tried telling me things, all sorts of things “just pretend you’re happy and it will go away” “cheer up” “just forget about it” “let it go, it’s in the past”…

Ad infinitum.

Doesn’t work like that. And considering some of the people telling me this claim to have had anxiety or depression, you think they’d understand that.

Stupid brain.

Lessons - Patience

If there’s one thing that fishing (one of my avid hobbies) has taught me, it’s to be patient. Gardening as well. That whole “good things come in time” saying? Well it’s doubly true for either of those hobbies.

Not only do you have to be patient, but you also have to do the groundwork for a good result. You can’t stand by a patch of dirt and expect a plant to grow – you have to plant a seed and nurture it, water it, shelter it, make sure the soil is rich in minerals and stuff. You can’t just throw a hook in the water, empty, and expect a fish to jump on for a ride – you have to bait the hook, maybe add something sparkly or smelly to get the fishes attention, put burley into the water so they know there’s food around, park up in a place that has the right conditions for the species you’re targeting.

So many factors (those and then some) go into just the groundwork for those two things. Then there’s still the waiting. It’s all worth it, in the end, for the time you spend enjoying the results of your time and effort. With fishing, if you’re in the right mood, it’s worth it just for the experience – sitting out there on the sea, the excitement and anticipation…

Yeah… these are the random thoughts that come to mind.

I Think I'm Disassociating

I've been feeling funny since about four this afternoon (so 3 hours roughly).

I told The Aspie Bestie just now, how I feel, and her first suggestion was disassociation {yeah, I just linked to a Wiki page... how terrible of me!}.

Although how I feel right now (and it's something I've felt before on multiple occasions) is not what I associated with disassociation - Merm disassociates and I've been with her in in situations that she says she disassociates -  I read that, then gave myself a mini test, running through the "sample disassociative experiences scale".

Yes... yes... no.... sometimes... yes...

Okay not only am I likely disassociating right now but I do it more often than I realised!

{I suppose I should stress that I am only possibly disassociating... Self diagnosed disassociation?}

Time feels fuzzy and out of reach, like it's slipping by too fast. I could blink and it'll be midnight before I've remembered to eat. I'm going from not feeling temperature, to being cold with shivers, staying in one position for so long I go numb, my nose and face feel kind of tingly. There's other stuff too but the main thing is feeling like I'm having problems with reality; time and space.

I can't explain it.

If it is disassociation, I have an idea of why. A maybe reason.

See, I have this insane optimism when it comes to applying for jobs. I latch onto the idea of getting the job I'm applying for (although usually the optimism comes when I have the first interview, not right at the point of application), I fall in love with the job... And then, invariably, my hopes are dashed as I don't get the job. One particular job I applied for last year, I couldn't leave my bed for two days after the second interview out of nervous excitement, and then I got the call saying I hadn't got the job and I couldn't leave the bed for two days out of utter despondent depression.

Well, I applied for a job today, because my current contract is fast running out. It took me an hour to complete the forms, but I started at around 4pm. And just because of how ideal the timing of this job seems, and it's a semi-good fit, I've been feeling kind of excited, kind of positive about this job.

So I think maybe my mind has decided to play baby-sitter. Disassociate me, distance me from the excitement {it's not really working that well, the disassociating is giving it a weird added excitement} so that I can't be hurt.

I'm not sure, maybe I'm wrong.

All I know is my wrist looks weird, not-mine even though it's attached to my hand as I'm typing. My skin feels weird and my finders seem to be not a part of my body... And oh crap this is making me think of other things, other times where I at least partially disassociate and I'm starting to get worried... I can think of an excuse for this time but I have no idea about the others! I can't wait until next week, when I have what I can only call "auditions" with two different counsellors, so I can find one that's the right fit. I feel more and more like I need a counsellor...

Sometimes the random-est pictures, taken for the hell of it, find a way of having so much meaning... This picture sums up how I feel... Out at sea, parts of me barely a part of reality and just little bits of me so real...

Psychic Dreaming

I now feel quite confident in saying that last night I had a prophetic dream.

Basically, without saying anything that I’m unsure if I can say, in my dream last night I demanded that my team leader give me training in a specific area of work, because I needed to know it. This was – other than having the randomness of dreaming – part I’m sure because I have wanted to at least learn this specific area of work since I saw the different screen they have.

But anyway, just now our team leader announced to our group that, rather than doing the area of work we thought we would be moving on to after this one, we will be going to the area of work that I just dreamed about last night.

Can this be coincidence? Well, maybe. But I preferto believe I’m a little bit psychic. Yay me!

My Lists {And A Rant About Conversational Skills/Things}

Every day, at the start of or during the day, I write myself a To-Do list of things I want to get done after work. But before I write today’s To-Do list, I go through and cross out everything on yesterday’s To-Do list. A tick for everything I did do, a cross for everything I didn’t do.

More often than not, there are more crosses than ticks. And everything that’s crossed gets either carried on to the next day’s list, or (eventually) wiped off completely. And then, forgotten about until it becomes urgent.

That’s just the way my mind goes.

And it seems that today’s post is going to involve general ranting rather than just focusing on one topic {for now… we’ll see how this goes. Sometimes a general rant grows into something more deep that needs its own post}. That is, after all, the joy of being me. Things that need writing get written and one topic bleeds into the next until we’re taking over the world!!!

Yeah.

There’s a girl away today. Her desk (which is in the central ‘hub’ area of our section in the cube farm, where the main group of socialising people) is empty. I was tempted to ask if I could sit there today. Just to have a bit of human interaction.

I didn’t ask in the end though {not that one hour into the working day is too late to ask… or is it?}. I might like the socialising, actually having people to talk to, or I might hate it. Too many people talking when I’m trying to work. Or the other problem, the usual problem. They’d ignore me, or talk over me, or invalidate me.

That always happens.

I don’t know what it is about me but… People are always talking over top of me (I hate that), interrupting me (I hate that too), just acting like I never said anything (yup, hate that too) or  making my words wrong so it sounds like I’m being a bitch or insensitive or… There are so many aspects of verbal communication that I hate. Mostly because of the way I’m treated when I talk.

I had a great – granted, not earth-shattering, but viable at the very least – idea at work that would have saved time and helped increase initial accuracy thus decreasing the time spent doing what my team is doing right now. However it took me too long to iron out the details in my mind, so I presented it a day too late and didn’t verbalise myself well enough, and I possibly didn’t tell the right person. So it was shot down as being a waste of time before it could even get past lower management.

 {I can, however, still use this as an example in future job interviews, I think, if I give it the right spin. After all, it is still an example of “When did you see a way that things could be changed at work, did you tell anyone and what was the reaction?” which is a fairly commonly asked interview question. This is something (preparing myself for the necessity of future job interviews, and refining myself) that I need to seriously think about, as my contract nears its end. And with this being my first office role, it’s doubly important… I might have to add “prepare job interview answers” to my To-Do list this week.}

Yeah, I got distracted. Majorly distracted. But that’s my flow. From why I hate talking to people, to prepping for a job interview in two easy paragraphs.

Now back to why I hate talking to people:

Well, there are really many reasons. The aforementioned are the main ones though. People misunderstand my intentions. I speak to fast or too quietly and people don’t understand what I’m saying. I use the wrong words and again I get misunderstood.

I learnt early on that to get my words heard I needed to speak louder, but my fear of not being heard (coupled with my trouble regulating the volume of my words) means that I often end up shouting. I get accused of trying to intimidate people, or ‘stand over’ them. I get told that I’m not listening to what people say which is wrong, I’m just trying to also get my words heard. When I get frustrated, I swear, which also isn’t looked favourably upon, but if I consciously try not to swear then I can’t get any words out, I stammer more, and I eventually end up crying.

Since getting this job (and maybe it’s just coincidental that this coincided with me getting my official diagnosis) I have been noticing my problems with speech more and more. At times, rather than say something that I know I’m going to have to repeat, I write down the main points and just hand that over to my team leader. It is, after all, all about knowing your weak points and having ways to overcome them… Actually I don’t know if that’s the best idea or not {is doing things like that just invalidating me as a person in the end? Stressing me out by making me try to function on an NT level when I’m not NT? Or is it a good thing, finding alternate ways of communicating when my way is inefficient? I really do not know…}

Conversational timing is a bit of an issue for me. Not just knowing when to speak, but the fact that I am polite and I will let people finish what they’re saying before I take my turn (because I had it, not literally, hammered into me at a young age that it’s incredibly rude to interrupt people). This is a problem mostly because by the time they’ve finished blathering on about whatever annoying thing they’re saying, they’ve either taken our conversation away from the direction where my statement would be appropriate, made it so my opinion wouldn’t contribute anything (thus invalidating my statement), or I’ve clear forgotten what it was I wanted to say.

The forgetting happens more and more frequently. At the moment, I’m thinking about blaming this on the build-up of pressure caused by trying to function on an NT level socially. Either that or just an increased level of social interaction which means that there’s an increased incidence but statistically it would remain the same (one forgetting in ten conversations is ten forgettings in a hundred conversations and a hundred in one thousand conversations, but they all have the same incidence of occurring).

{And Wow! I keep remembering something that’s totally relevant to this train of thought, but by the time I’ve finished what I’m writing, even if it’s only seven words, I forget what it was that I wanted to add, only remembering the fact that it’s something I’ve thought about adding before and forgotten. I think that is a hint that this blog post at the very least, has reached its finishing point.}

About Things Ya Don't Like Doing

At work, as with life, there are always things that I like doing, things I don’t like doing, things I don’t mind, and things I’d do anything to get out of.

Unfortunately, at work (and generally with life as well) all of these things need doing. Maybe they don’t need doing now. Maybe I can avoid doing them – for now. But in the end, to get through to the next stage (at work or in life, I guess), they all need doing.

~*~Apparently, not wanting to do a task at work (that I am, none the less, doing) has made me feel very philosophical. ~*~

In life, at the moment, the tasks I don’t want to do are:

Ø  The dishes

Ø  The tidying in general

Those are things that I really, really do not want to do.  My perfectionist nature makes me think I should want to do them, but my perfectionish nature also says “Oh my god, what is the point? It will just get messy again! You and The Crazy Flatmate are terrible at keeping anything neat!” I don’t like the idea that I will put all that effort in, only to have one or the both of us ruin things. Also, as I said in my previous blog post today, when I get home from work, I am tired and irritable and don’t want to do anything.

These things, however, are not things that will really stop me from growing as a person or moving on to the next stage in my life. Unless you count the whole “growing up/being mature/if I can’t look after a flat, how can I be expected to look after a house I own?” aspect of things.

{To be honest, I started this post at least two weeks ago and, while I want to keep it, i have no idea where I was going with it! So I'm just going to post it, unfinished...}

My Current Novel Problem

{First of all, yes I know that this is fast turning into my authors notes. This blog is a magical creature, everything I need it to be, when I need it. It just so happens that, at the moment, my novel-to-be is a mini-obsession, thinking about it and thinking about it but never actually putting pen to paper other than that attempted intro.}

At the moment my big dilemma is all about indecision. I just cannot decide how separate I am going to make this story. I mean, I don’t know how different I want to make Canter’s story (the aspergirl/vampire romance) from Emjay’s story (the original obsession, re-written more than 80 times, vampire romance which I now realise looking back was always an aspergrl/vampire romance).

In the world of Emjay’s story, and I know this from a long time writing this story, the simple act of changing the names changes almost everything. Only Emjay is Emjay. And I truly do not know how much of the story I actually want to change.

Mostly because I do not know how to do so much of what I want to do while changing the story, I do not know how to do some of what I want to do if I leave too much the same, and I do not know where the story is going other than it’s paranormal romance with two possible romantic interests. How do people meet? And more importantly, how can I have her meeting the two romantic leads separately, but they know each other, aren’t romantically involved (one of them is male and the other female and I don’t want it to be or seem like a couple seeking a unicorn because that’s so not what it is) and don’t seem to have an issue with each other romancing the same person?

I have thought up a way but I don’t know how well it will work. I can’t say too much because I haven’t started writing it yet so it’s kind of ambiguous in my own mind and…  

Well I guess that’s a significant amount of ranting about my story. No doubt this week will be a second (or is it third) week of having “start writing story” on my to-do list every day, never done. Who knows, I may finally be able to jump in the deep end!

Wish me luck

~*~ Note from after writing this: I have just been informed that this month is Camp Nano which means it's a smaller sub-variant of National Novel Writing Month. This, considering today is the first of the month, could be a bit of a kick starter for me. Setting goals for word count, giving me the kick in the pants I need... I'll look into it when I get home.

Novel Intro - Rough Copy

We walk among you, but you barely notice us. We look like you; if we want to, we can sound and act like you do. As far as you’re concerned, we don’t exist.

Except we do. And no matter what games of pretend we play, we’re not like you.

We barely even live in the same world as you do. Not the way you see it, anyway.

We’re all different, just so you know. I’m not going to generalise and say we all have the same superpowers, or even that we all have superpowers.  Each of us lives in our own world, with our own limitations, our own greatnesses. And two worlds can be similar, but we really are the unique snowflakes that you aren’t.

No, that’s cruel. You guys are individuals too, but… the same. You all live in the same world, this world that we can see and interact with but aren’t really a part of. I shouldn’t generalise you anymore than I should generalise us. After all, I’ve only pretended to be one of you, thought I was one of you. I never actually was one of you.

Some of us have superior hearing, eyesight, sense of smell – all to the point of distraction because how can you focus on one conversation in a room where you can hear fifty, or look at one person when you can see the air currents swirling around them? Some of us have amazing memories – but just because you can store all that data doesn’t mean you can find the file it’s hidden in. For each of our strengths we have a weakness or three. And for each of us it’s a different mix.

You accuse us – when you even recognise us at all – of being robotic, inhuman. But that is far from the truth. We feel things so intensely that we try not to feel them at all – because this is your world and not really ours, we weren’t taught how to cope with emotions in a way that we understand.

We’re not so inhuman, we’re just different…

We’re autistic.

Sensitive Scents Of Smell - Allergies

Other than having a sensitive nose, I am also allergic to a certain type of fragrance.  It is merely one of up to {or over} a hundred components that make up the ingredient “fragrance” listed on products. But I am violently allergic to it. Headaches and nausea upon smelling fragranced products including this one ingredient at any more than a tiny dilution, discoid eczema upon contact. I can’t use toilet paper that states it has been fragranced because I learned the hard way; it includes the component I am allergic to. All of them. Basically, if fragrance or perfume is in the top three ingredients, and the company can’t provide me with a list of ingredients in their “fragrance” (and none of them will, as it is a secret) then I have to avoid the product.

Hoppy loves this, I can never complain about him being smelly because if he uses products it makes me sick. Alternatively, he loves this because if he doesn’t want me bugging him, all he has to do is spray some on {sob}.

Why am I bringing this up? I work in a place with 100+ other people. In close proximity (we get probably a metre and a half to ourselves, but scents don’t stay restricted to each person’s personal space). And someone nearby is wearing a disgusting amount of something that I can tell within five seconds that I am allergic to. I can’t open the window, because everyone freaks out about the cold (despite the fact that I and a small minority of women whom I assume are going through menopause are constantly too hot).

So what can I do? There’s no point in complaining, what’s done can’t be undone {especially considering it is just a smell}. Without windows to open we can’t air the place out and make it habitable for me. Do I just sit here in silence and suffer? {Well, silence apart from my blog rants.}

Guess so. Be like the pebble and all that. I suppose I could go and sit in the hallway for a while, but the fragrance would still be lingering when I got back.

I take anti-histamines for my hayfever {never got that before moving to Wellington, and now I’m practically allergic to animal hair, with year round hayfever} but that does nothing for the fragrance allergy. Not to mention I currently have to triple up on hayfever medication for it to do anything. I try going for patches without using any, just to reduce my chance of getting addicted, getting bleeding noses, and to increase my chance of it working better when I do take it.

Well, I’d better stop ranting and figure out something I can do about it. No ideas at current that would be of any help. {Sigh}

Driving and Me

I just read The Aspie Bestie's blog post here (fingers crossed the link worked, I've never done one before!) and I was tempted to write a short post about my own experiences with driving. Considering I know that it can be (one of the) topics of great discussion where I fall on the "different" side of the stick - and boy does it feel strange to still feel different and weird even while I'm finding people like me and feeling like I almost belong.

Yes, I can drive.

I got my learners at 18 (later than most people I knew) at my grandmother's urging. One driving lesson with gran who immediately said "never again!"

Then that was it for two years. Then, three lessons with an Asian driving instructor (and I'll admit to succumbing to racial stereotype and being a little afraid to learning to drive from an Asian. At the end of the third lesson, he announced (with a glint of greed in his eyes) "She will need at least thirty more lessons to be good enough to pass the restricted test."

So that was it for two years. Every now and then Hoppy would give me a "lesson" in his car and I would struggle away, freaking out if there was anyone behind me or in front of me and going 60 on the open road (speed limit is 100), and afterwards he would tell me off for being useless and I would vow never to try again.

At one point, the "all the things at once" issue nearly had me driving into a lamp post. After all: indicate, turn wheel, clutch, break, gear change, accelerate, look, mirror check... All those things were too much to do at once. I. Was. Terrified.

Eventually I gave up on being scared. I had to jump in the deep end. I booked lessons with an instructor who had automatic cars. On the second lesson, he started talking to me, having a conversation while I continually froze up. He started talking, of all things, about religion. He was SDA - which in my opinion is another crazy cult, but I am not a religious person and they all amuse me to some degree - and we just talked. And after a while I realised I had driven through the hour, we were back at home, and I hadn't panicked.

I think I had six lessons with him. Then that was it for 6 months. No-one I know has an automatic car so I couldn't practice.

Then I went "screw it." Booked my driving test, rented an automatic car, and passed with flying colours. Only issue was I hesitated too long at roundabouts.

Shortly after that, I brought myself a car. And... once I had my own car, I had no issues with driving.

I mean, I learned the hard way that I can't play music loudly and stay on my side of the road. It took me 3 years to be able to do that. A friend had to help me "learn" how to drive after dark, or in the rain. Initially I was too scared to do that. And I still refuse to drive in what I call "Traffic" (in other words, rush hour traffic or anything similar). I don't like cars in front of me, or behind me, but I got over the thought of "I can't go faster than 60, ScreamingMetalDeathTrap!"

I zone out and get to places without remembering passing certain "markers" along the way. I have to hold the steering wheel with my left hand or I can't control the wheel. I tap and fiddle and stim when I'm driving.

That's my story.

Also, I'm convinced that other things would work the same way as driving. Once I have my own house, I'll be able to look after it better. I hope. {i really really want to own my own home... one day...}

Trying To Start Novelling

I have a couple of ideas on how I’m going to start my Aspergian/vampire romance story, and because the two starters are at odds and I don’t think I can use both – but I like both equally {okay, I like one a little more but that’s only because I don’t know if the other one would be found offensive by people with aspergers or if they’d find it cool like I do} – I think that may be why I have held off on starting writing.

 {I am just going to do a basic sum up of the idea behind each start, I don’t want to give away too much or ruin the start of a story that I may eventually end up posting online for people to read… or more J (hopes and dreams of being published, as always) but hopefully this will give all y’all enough of an idea that you can say yay or nay to the ideas.}

Start One:

 The main character is in a job interview.  This chapter and this chapter alone will be formatted different, first person perspective (as will the rest of the story) but almost like a script. What the interviewer asks, and what the main character responds with in her head – what she says reveals her quirks – and what she actually responds with out loud. As well as this, there will be her fidgeting, nervous stimming, and other things, written in. But this chapter will almost (even though it is set in the present) be done as a “looking back” type thing.
Oh… it’s hard to describe and basically I can’t do it justice without writing it out! But that is the basic‑est of basic overviews of start one.

Start Two:

This is going to be a… um… I can’t think of the word. Sort of like an “unexpected twist” start, based off the start to some vampire novels I read when I was younger (The Night World, by L.J Smith, for example, has a similar start or premise but without my twist).
“They live among us, they look just like us, they could be us. But they’re not.  Each of them is different in their own way, unique. Each of them lives in a different world from us. Some of them are really cats {hey, I like the cat thing… although that line probably won’t stay}…”
Basically, a build-up, leading the reader to believe I’m talking about vampires. But, surprise twist: I’m talking about Aspergians.

Well folks, those are my ideas. Again, they are in their most basic form. Can people please let me know any opinions, do they like one idea better than the other, etc? Pretty pretty please?