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At a loss

I feel rather lost, really depressed, confused… and I don’t know how to feel. People are turning on lifelong friends over misinformation and lies and differing opinions, as if people’s opinions somehow changed over night and they’ve suddenly become horrible people to avoid.

One friend, I don’t know what to think. She hasn’t really spoken to me in months now, I don’t know if I did something wrong or if there’s something going on in her life, but I know things have changed to where I’m not in her circle so much anymore. I can usually tell when someone’s attitude toward me has changed, I just can never figure out why. And right now I’m not sure whether I should pursue it, if she’d even tell me, or if I should just accept that this is how I am.

I can never really keep friends. The most they last is 2-3 years before leaving me. I have one friend who has stayed true for 16+ years now, he’s not going anywhere, aside from dying… Another person I guess is sort of a friend? We’ve known each other for about 14 years, though we don’t always agree on politics and it’s gotten a little… tense, I guess, between us with all the stuff going on.

I rely on facts, evidence, statistics, reason and logic, stuff like that, to get an idea of how the world is. I have a hard time with emotional arguments, they don’t make sense to me if they’re not back up with facts. For some reason, this has cost me quite a few “friends” off Facebook, and now I feel like it may have cost me someone I actually really care about, because the last few times she’s commented on anything of mine, it’s been heated, and I don’t understand it at all. I don’t get it. I keep trying, but I feel like I’m missing something, because I can’t understand social stuff very well.

I’m good at pretending, and I think people forget that I’m pretty much just going by script and information from past experiences that may not apply to all these new ones. I don’t know if I’ve somehow inadvertently hurt my friend, or just pissed her off, or if she’s grown bored of me, or if her life is just throwing her for a constant loop for the past few months and she’s been aloof with everyone.

My paranoia and anxiety are convinced I’ve screwed it up though.

It’s just happened so many times, what’s one more to add to the list?

I feel like I should just give up on having friends entirely. I’m obviously not a good enough one myself.

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Powerfully Angry (warning: language)

Wish I’d come across this sooner. Especially since I was essentially attacked and told to shut up and if I was going to speak it was going to be about one thing, and one thing only, because otherwise I was minimizing this problem somehow… couldn’t get a single clear answer out of them. I wish I could have pointed them to this, and told them to F Off.

the fool on the hill

NB. I talk about some ignorant and hateful parenting in this post. However, some parents are absolutely wonderful, invaluable parents as well as amazing examples of NT allies. Please refer to my sidebar for links to some of their blogs, marked with a (P).

So. Lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of talk on autism acceptance pages, on parent pages, about tone. About how we’re so angry, about how we have to be nice to people or they won’t listen to us, how “for the good of the movement” we have to engage on the ignorant person’s level.

The thing is, up to a point, those people are right. On a purely individual level, a lot of the time, if you get defensive and upset, people won’t listen to you. They should. But they won’t, because you’re “angry.”

Anger is a scary thing for most neurotypicals, never mind us autistics. We don’t…

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How to Determine if Your Religious Liberty is at Threat in Just Ten Quick Questions.

Very well put!

Emily C. Heath

It seems like this election season “religious liberty” is a hot topic. Rumors of its demise are all around, as are politicians who want to make sure that you know they will never do anything to intrude upon it.

I’m a religious person with a lifelong passion for civil rights, so this is of great interest to me. So much so, that I believe we all need to determine whether our religious liberties are indeed at risk. So, as a public service, I’ve come up with this little quiz. I call it “How to Determine if Your Religious Liberty is at Threat in Just Ten Quick Questions.” Just pick “A” or “B” for each question.

Question One

My religious liberty is at risk because:

A)I am not allowed to go to a religious service of my own choosing.

B) Others are allowed to go to religious services of their own…

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What is happening to us?

Very well put.

Demons in My Head

I was talking to a friend recently when the question was posed. What is wrong with society?

It’s hard to describe. We now live in a society where the idea of self-sacrifice and care for others only lives in movies. Selfishness has invaded reasoning under the banner of choice. We offer platitudes on how to be a better person and offer more of ourselves to others until it’s our turn to follow those words. We are no longer free, and it scares us. We’re so used to be afraid we seek it out. We play along with the people around us so they may never see we are different. We shun those who dare to be different because the remind us of the things we forbid ourselves. No one wants to be singled out. We seek attention for everything we do, yet not for what we are. We hide behind…

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This Night

Been listening to a song by Black Lab called “This Night” and it’s given me a lot of inspiration, but it also is feeding my depression. It’s strange that my depression feeds my creativity… I ended up writing last night…

“She set the cup on the desk and took her earrings and necklace off, her fingers trembling. She stared at her rings… It had been three years since he’d died… he would understand. She pulled her wedding ring off and slowly set it on the desk with her other jewelry. She slowly undid her boots, trying not to think about what she was planning, and put them next to the desk. She ran her hands down her arms, feeling the softness of the cashmere sweater, then pulled it off. She was wearing a workout tank top on underneath that would do for a shirt. There were people in greater need of staying warm… Her body would be cold before the night and she would no longer care.”

Then later:

“Let me at least try to help you.” He said.
“Don’t you understand?” She cried, glaring at him with such anger in her eyes. “Just let me die! Why do you suddenly care? You didn’t care earlier. You couldn’t be rid of me soon enough! I can’t keep trying to live like this! The pain… the pain is just too much… I don’t belong here, I shouldn’t even be alive.”

I shouldn’t be alive. If I were to go to another world… if I were suddenly transported to somewhere like Middle Earth… It would be a death sentence to me. What would I do? Would I let my body slowly deteriorate, becoming a burden on whoever tried to help me, or would I slip quietly away and kill myself?

At the doctor the other day, the nurse was amazed at my chart… amazed that I’m allergic to all plant life. How am I even alive? What do I eat? Hypothyroidism, fibromyalgia, allergic to so many things, asd… Is it a miracle I’m alive? My body wasn’t completed in the womb… I’m seeing more and more evidence of this the older I get, with the various problems I have. I keep wondering what I’m going to do if I go the way of my grandma and get Parkinson’s. She wrote about not wanting to be a burden on people, and I saw what happened when it got bad… I don’t want to go that route, but would I kill myself to prevent that kind of stress on my family? There is no happy ending with Parkinson’s. There is no peaceful passing, not really… When did she really die? She wasn’t really there… she didn’t know us in the end. She was like an infant again… Watching someone you love go through that is horrible.

But look at what happened with Robin Williams. All the responses on his death… people want us to stick it out, they don’t want us to “take the easy way out.” It’s not easy. There’s nothing easy about deciding to end a life. It’s the thought of “will it be easier on them in the long run?”

I have had an amazing life in my almost 30 years. I have done so much, accomplished a lot, gone so many places. I have no real regrets. If I died today, the only regret I would have would be that I wouldn’t be here for my boys. I wouldn’t be here to watch them grow up, to help them through life, and it would be more of a problem for my husband who is under enough stress as it is. My parents would have to take the kids, probably, since they’re retired. I need to work on a will and get life insurance, something to help my husband out. Funerals are expensive, after all and we’re not exactly rich…

“She bent down, gripping the soft leather straps in her hands, and wrapped the greave around his shin, buckling it on tightly. A hand brushed back her long brown hair, fingers grazing her cheek gently. She looked up in time for his lips to kiss hers, his hands pulling her closer to him. A single tear traced its way down her cheek as she wrapped her arms around him, his armor digging into her skin. A small price to pay… He slipped out of her grasp, smiling sadly. He cupped her face in his hand, then grabbed his helmet and walked out the door. She watched him leave, watched as the army gathered around the city… the smoke from the attack burning her eyes.
And like that, he was gone.

She stood on the edge of a cliff, staring down into the rushing river below, longing to feel the water on her face. It would hurt… but what was a little more pain? She should be used to pain by now. It was the peace at the end of the pain that she wanted, that she longed for. She smiled and wrapped her arms around herself, longing for his touch again… it wouldn’t be long. They would be reunited soon enough. The wind whipped her dress around her ankles, her hair blowing wildly…
A deer looked up, thinking it heard something, but the forest was silent and empty.”

Friendship

I’ve been writing just random stories lately to help organize my thoughts, and I realized something in them, that I have a lot of trust issues. That I don’t want to let anyone in, because they’ll only hurt me. If I open myself up, they will stab me. How many times… how many times have I been hurt? Been treated as less than… because it’s easy to do that to me, I guess.

I found that I write this stuff a lot…
“You’ll leave me, everyone always does.”
“She wasn’t sure she could do it… get attached to someone else who was going to leave her.”
“Or maybe she was just so desperate for some company, even though she knew he was going to leave her too.”
“But how many times had she opened herself up only to get hurt again?”
“She had no real friends, just those at the festival that she occasionally hung out with. They were hardly ever there when she really needed them, though. She’d been pushing everyone away and living for nothing.”
“If you don’t care for yourself, how can you ever expect to be happy? It’s no wonder people don’t respect you, use you and then leave you.”
“He would leave her too. He was just using her like everyone else did anyway, why should she care if he left too?”
“I’ve just come to accept that everyone is just going to use me and leave me.”

Abandonment issues I guess? At least my family won’t abandon me. I have known so many people in my life and the ones I get closest to seem to leave me. Some at least just fade away, we grow apart, and that’s ok. But then there are others who use me. I love helping people, I love doing things for people, but I do not like being used. They take, and take, and take, and never give back, and I can only give so much before I can’t anymore.

I keep thinking that there are probably quite a few people out there who could be great friends if I only give them a chance… but I can’t. It took me a long time before I gave that group of women I talked about a chance… and I got hurt. I still hurt from that even though it was back in August. I stayed ‘friends’ with some of them on facebook and messaged them for New Years, and ended up having conversations with a few of them. Which would have been nice had I not been used again… Do I just have “therapist” written on my forehead that everyone needs to unload their problems onto me and then ditch me when I need to talk?

I’m exhausted, emotionally. I’m lonely. I have my family, my art, my stories. I have a few people I talk to online, and a couple of them I have opened up to, because they don’t use me, but I’m still afraid of losing them too.

I can’t say no. If someone needs me to listen, I will. I give and I give, and I feel like they’re starting to take my soul because they won’t give back. My characters in my stories are depressing. They’re tragic. And I can’t make them funny or happy-go-lucky, because they’re essentially the embodiment of myself and I’m trapped in this pit of depression and I can’t get out.

“She wasn’t trying to make up for anything, she was just… trying to prove she was worth something. Show the world that she wasn’t worthless, that she could be useful.”

“The last time I tried to talk to someone about this stuff… She got angry with me. She was my best friend and she got angry that I was depressed. That was years ago… I haven’t had anyone to talk to since, or at least I haven’t tried. There are only so many times one can get shot down before they simply stop trying, you know? I’m afraid to open myself up to that kind of pain again.”

“Why should I complain? Why should I have told you how much pain I was in on the road? What would that have accomplished? Why should I tell people how upset I am, how twisted up my emotions are inside? What good would it do but to bring others down? I need to figure this out on my own, let others live their own lives and be happy.”

“I keep pushing myself. I want to make sure I’m not a burden, that I make sure I’m useful and don’t need to… don’t need to be shoved to the side, ignored… but… That seems to happen anyway.”

Preconceived Notions

If I told you about a someone who grew up constantly harassed due to skin color, bullied at school not only by the other students but by teachers all the way through even college, held at gun point because of skin color, what would your first perception be?

Would it be a girl with milky white skin?

Racism is bad. It doesn’t matter who is doing it, it needs to stop. Just because someone’s skin is white doesn’t mean they deserve to experience racism. And even if you feel like that, there are a lot of white skinned folk whose ancestors had nothing to do with slavery in the US. Aside from the Irish who came over from the attempted genocide by England in the potato famine (it was a genocide of convenience, rather than deliberate, and when they got to the US they were treated like dogs) what about the Slavic peoples? They make up over 667,000,000 people on this planet and there’s a large community of Ukrainians where I am. They end up getting hit from all sides, being told to go back to their own country, being spat on for being white because all white people are evil…

I know I don’t have all the answers, I know I fall and make mistakes. I hope people will hold me accountable when I do. We need that. We need equality. We need people to stop treating people based on preconceived notions. For some people, dressing in a suit isn’t enough, they’re still seen as a lesser being.

People need to stop being dicks.