Not a Journal

A blog is not a journal. People can read it. That is most dangerous. But, on the other hand, I do not actually exist without the input of other people. I do not understand the need of people to ration conversation, to need solitude. I understand a need for occasional peace, but, that for me is found in the few minutes before I sleep, and the time to sleep.

I think the true exhaustion with the act of interacting is an ASD trait. My son experiences it in a very marked way. His father also experiences complete shut down, too much interacting pain. The one person J invited to share his actual birthday experiences it too, and is on the assessment pathway. Of course, this means that they cannot actually share his birthday. They need to take that particular time out to care for themselves. And there is nothing to say about that. People *have* to be able to care for themselves. I have no mean ness for that. I don’t begrudge that.

I don’t understand this though. For me. I don’t exist alone in my head. I ONLY exist in what is shared, in what is known and in the world. I am deeply uncomfortable to feel that I don’t exist. This may well be some kind of conceit, but as much as those people can’t help the time they need, there is nothing I can do about the way I work either.

Maybe I am the opposite of ASD? I know my own issues are on the same gene cluster, maybe they really are the opposite side of the same coin?

It’s so difficult for me to sit here and be alone, and actually feel like I don’t exist, because things happen, or feeling happen, that I can never share with anyone. For me, choosing someone to spend the whole of my life with, was partly about this, feeling that completeness. Like Aristophanes, the reason for “the other half” – This I searched for. I guess the moral is, don’t search when you are too broken to recognise.

And now, I will never truly exist. Because there will always be secrets, there will always be whole swathes of empty non existent time. And there can be no one who can understand and mitigate my feeling, because, it is OK to need down time alone. It’s really cruel and unfair to expect anyone to want the contact and sharing that I need. Especially since I function better when it happens in both directions. I just am a person who needs to share another life. I don’t have a whole one on my own. I am the Aristophanean proof.

Today, I have put one particular avenue of contact to bed. It is hard because I NEED to discuss it. I have huge need to tell the person how I feel about having to miss them in my life forever. This is why I never understand when people think I can cut people dead. I can’t. I need to explain. I need to share. To HAVE to. It hurts. It would be unnecessarily cruel to explain, and it wouldn’t be an ending.

People confuse me. I need them, but they are not there. Those that are there need to care for themselves by not interacting with me (which is impossible for me not to construe as “because I am so horrible*). My world is small talk, theirs is “As my friend I should be able to expect that you…”

People who need fewer people have more? Maybe that they don’t understand what it is like then, to have this?

So, the plans I have are secret, and will not horrify anyone, because no one will care. I will never get past the hideously awful thing I must be to have to chalk up todays loss. Always thinking could be me. If only I were better.

Need to find a good  ASD helpful school. *I* cannot be the social input.

There are outlets that *I* use to relieve the actual physical pain, for my social loss.  But, they cannot be shared.. So there must be better learning for him

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