The last four weeks were exhausting: the work started again. There were new colleagues, many face-to-face talks, conferences.
In the first two weeks there was no afternoon that I didn’t have to recover from working day. And by that I don’t mean a 20 minute power nap. Some days I’d collapse straight into bed at home. Continue reading
I hit myself when I was a teenager.
If, for example, I couldn’t get any further with my homework or an appointment came closer and closer, but I couldn’t get ahead with that damn paper, I hammer myself at the head, with my hands or even with my finger joints or fist.
As a child, when I was excited or really desperate, I hit the ground with my hands, my arms, my feet until I felt this feeling at the affected parts of my body, this warm tingling stream. I only noticed possible injuries later.
Today this only happens when I really can’t understand something, when there is something which doesn’t want “to go in my head”, when I am very, very stressed, when I am supposed to do something completely illogical, but I can’t do it, then I hit myself on the head again and again. It just happens. Even if I know that this is an absurd behaviour, because it can’t change my tricky situation, it “happens”.
If everything runs smoothly, this does not happen.
But when, when does life run smoothly?
My life as an autist is exhausting.
Hardly a day goes by without an event that drains my reserves of strength.
Be it the tram that breaks down and makes me play the routine for being late, or the oddly hazy sky that makes the sun shine brightly,
Whether it’s an annoying letter that requires me to send some documents within two weeks, or the doctor’s office that replies to my e-mail (!), that I should phone them to make an appointment.
Be it the reckless neighbour who thinks he has to play music on Sundays at 12:00 (!) with the window open or the goods in the supermarket, once again in another place.
By Photograph by Mike Peel (www.mikepeel.net)., CC BY-SA 4.0, Link
Celebrating New Year’s Eve? That is not my thing.
That nasty sudden bangs, the people behaving bizarrely, the bad air, the moaning and groaning about being tight on cash and low wages … as opposed to this people are shooting / blowing their money in the air (literally!). Plain irrational (or you can call that batshit if you like).
Therefore the number of New Year’s Eve parties keeps negligible.
There was an invitation and I was glad for this opportunity to spend some time with others.
But again I flee the turmoil und the uncertainty.
I fear the journey home by night.
I usually do not travel by car after night closes in (because of the glaring lights on the opposite lane). And what’s more: It is not safe. And going by train as well.
So I went to the office doing some work, reading, writing and probably watching a documentary (as an interlude).
For years the days between Christmas and New Year have been filled with plans, ideas, projects … with all the lot that is important to me in the upcoming year.
Here I am at last.
Before midnight I will cast a glance melancholy. Because New Year’s Eve shows annually that I have a different mentality. And I will take this look gladly as well, because I have planned some enjoyable things the days to come: I will do things for the benefit of my health.
You probably should, too 🙂
Take good care.
Captain.
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