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Showing posts from May, 2015

Who needs tact when you have over-sharing?

What is this mysteriously magical pull between my brain and someone I barely know? Why do I feel the need to bridge the gap by telling them something they never expected? And why do I always share things you're supposed to keep to yourself?

Yes, those times when normal chit-chat would do but I fill it with nuggets from my life, hard, gold, treasure-finds that leave people at a loss for words - which then leaves another hole in the conversation for me to fill with something else.

It's as if one piece of information, unasked for but wholly perfect for the moment it pops into my brain, then opens the door for all the others. As if one metaphorical cat, instead of running into the garden, turns round and opens the door wide for the rest of the cats to pour through.

All I had to do was fill in one simple piece of conversational by-the-by. There was no invitation to share (whoever really needed one?), there was no suitable opening only the size and shape of that one share: I could …

Are you feeling blue today?

Sometimes it's hard to be an adult. All that to-ing and fro-ing in the real world takes its toll. One minute, blindly rushing along the great path of life, the next huddled to the side, wrapped in your blanket, watching all the proper grown-ups go by.

Just so: one moment a person who does, the next a person who does not.

And, to make life extra creative, the does and does not can be as simple as not wanting to be somewhere or leaving a whole portion of your life behind because it can't be done anymore.

This can be the very hardest of things to explain to people who are not on the spectrum, that what you did today might not be done tomorrow. How can you explain that this person in front of them, same-faced, same-voiced, same-souled, can react so differently from one moment to the next?

I used to read a series of books when I was very small, where the people in the town were divided according to the colour of their hats. For some reason I liked these books, I liked what seemed …

The art of being unreasonable

I feel like being totally unreasonable today. You know the sort of thing, when your nearest and dearest fix you with A Look and say, 'What on earth are you doing?' or 'Why aren't you doing anything?!'.

Being unreasonable often seems to involve verbs: you are either doing what you shouldn't or not doing anything at all. Somehow even inaction brings in the doing words, spelling it out where you are failing yourself, and everyone else.

No, sitting does not count as a doing word! (Well, actually it does, because sitting is doing something) and looking at the computer doesn't seem to count as being busy.

What counts is being out there, looking like you want to be out there and joining in some terrible team sport like conversation or social inclusion.

It's totally unreasonable to avoid these activities and not at all creative to find good ways to sneak out of them. It doesn't mean you are a clever person if you come up with a get-out clause and people do…

The real, real, real you. No, not that one, the other one.

People are guilty of saying they want to get to know you better, to know the real you, as if the one they have been talking to all this time was a pale copy and the real one was in a cupboard somewhere. You can feel you have shown your best, most honest face to the world and then still have it pushed away, refused in favour of the 'real' one.

Why do people so readily believe they are not seeing the real person? Is it the aspie nature to disguise and hide beneath multiple facades? Or is the brutally blunt persona so different from what people expect, they refuse to believe it's the right one?

To have someone say they want to really get to know you is tantamount to them poking you in the gut or pulling you on the nose and saying, 'It's a costume, isn't it? Go on, where's the zip? Let's see what you really look like!'

This wouldn't be so bad if we always got to see the real them in return. Assuming we are up for this kind of revelation, if a perso…

The unexpected horror of social niceties

Anyone who is more familiar with the inside of a book than the outside of a vacuum cleaner will know the horror with which I anticipated the arrival of a New Friend who had not been to the house before. Worse still, not my new friend but RT Teen's. If it had been my own friend I could have warned them about the house being 'creatively messy' or the cats re-enacting Game of Thrones key scenes or the dog and his incredible butt-dancing trick.

When it is the friend of your children though, you can regret not being more like other people - and this side of you suddenly being revealed to the world (i.e. the new friend).

So it was that myself, RT Teen and Custard the cat (House Targaryen) set to with the housework. We busied and we bodied and we did what we could in a short time, even though we had known he was coming for a week.

Me and Custard polished windows and fought the fur corners, RT braved the new vacuum cleaner and discovered that it blew as well as sucked. House Tyre…