Today was the day of a funeral in the family of my mother's husband. So far in my life I have experienced two weddings and at least four five funerals, which is probably an effect of my knowing very few people near my own age and my extended family (in every extension I am aware of) consisting primarily of people at least twenty years older than me.

I knew em barely at all and had no connection to be remarked upon, so I was not in a state of grieving myself except abstractly, but I lacked desire to be disruptive and had desire to participate and to learn from participating. I think I care about people who were effected and do have a pragmatic and moral interest in their well-being. I do not know how true I will regard these words at any future. I think there would in hypothetical scenarios be concerns from other parties about privacy and the publication of family matters; I desire not to violate such wishes that I believe are held by others but do wish to write about my day and things which happened in it, so I am attempting a compromise which hopefully satisfies both interests.

It was a hot day. I was sent to the entrance to the cemetery to watch for my sister's arrival and guide her to the proper location. Due to circumstances beyond her control she was not able to be there for the service and I was about a minute late getting in to the service, the last to enter. I worried during the service that my customary behaviour of (attempted?) alertness to my surroundings would be perceived as rude and disrespectful, a worry which is typical to nearly any extended interactions in physical space.

At the end of the service time was set aside for reflection. Classical music was played during this time which had frequent strong peaks at the start and which I experienced as disruptive of my thoughts and ability to reflect. I ended up focusing more on the music and concluded it was a waltz, probably a Strauss waltz. Dance music seemed an odd choice for a period of reflection, but I thought anyway people's reflection on the deceased and related thoughts would not be contained to an assigned duration.

After all this the service was ended and people filed out. I was fascinated by how this happened, the order in which people left. I was sure it must not have been pre-decided or organised and wondered if it were a social response reflex signalling when it was appropriate to stay and to follow so that what resulted was an uncoordinated orderly exit. That might be nonsense, the preceding sentence. Am trying to express that, in the absence of explicit planning, I thought the effect of a neat, orderly departure might have happened via unconscious exchange of body language with reference to social roles. I do not posit myself as immune to such an effect.

The wake followed, at the home of immediate family of the deceased. My experience of funerals is that they are relatively happier events than media would suggest. Following the service there is typically a gathering of many people who are not in contact especially often, with extensive socialisation centring on the concerns of the living as happens at any other similarly composed gathering. Most often exceptions to this would be those closest to the deceased, but not necessarily. The gathering was loud in conversation and went on for several hours. I contributed to the conversation at some points, mostly near the beginning and later on when people had begun leaving.

As usual it was not until I was back home that I became aware of the strain going out and being social puts on me. Once I got changed and sat down I noticed myself being overloaded, feeling a strong desire to curl up somewhere quiet and cry. I was still under obligation though, so I postponed that further. Whenever I am reminded of this cost of social events I wonder if doing more of them would inure me to this or if it is something to be accepted and lived with. I suppose the thing to do is test by trying more social things, but if the answer to that question is no, how do I tell when I have tried hard enough?

Knowing when I have tried 'hard enough' is not something I have a good history of.

It has long confused and bothered me that in the question of how to respond to climate change one of the major governmental concerns appears to be "How can we ensure that industries like coal remain profitable?" As concerns go it seems almost nonsensical, since in order to respond effectively to the problem the coal and other industries need to cease existing in their present form - an effective response cannot I think include 'energy producing industries continue to exist profitably as they are'. If they do want to keep existing as companies they probably should be investing in changing what they do and how.

Perhaps this is because 'growing less than fast is a sign of a bad economy' has never made sense to me as a goal either. It seems like a whole lot of people pretending the planet's resources are infinite and putting off any problems to be dealt with in some indefinite 'later'. Any economic focus other than a sustainable, non-destructive one has always struck me as misguided.

I was watching Lateline earlier tonight and the businessperson interviewed seemed much more charismatic than the politicians and political analysts. Maybe that explains this.

I have said this before, although not here yet:

I think when we experience a desire to share music [or something else which may be the subject of a similar desire] with others this is often a proxy for a less commonly known or appreciated desire. I think what we often truly wish to share is the experience of the moment, the emotions that are being inspired in us. "I want to share this ecstasy, this joy, this wonder, this passion, this moment of empathy or grief or oneness [...] and the only way I know to even approach doing so is by sharing with you what is the immediate inspiration of my feelings."

Autism is often partly characterised as an extreme self-absorption, and my impression is this is considered some explanation for 'why autistic people are annoying to be around'. Of course I could not speak for everyone but that does not seem true to me. At least in that being so self-absorbed as to be uncaring of others or their feelings would suggest a low likelihood of sharing topical enthusiasm. The irritation to others would come from being unable to distinguish interest from disinterest in those being enthused to (something I have tried to learn). Also at least for me there are times when interest and enthusiasm overflow and I feel compelled to express it somehow - If I try not to I find myself moving to do it some minutes later anyway, without volition in my mental record. Since, thanks to the first thing I tend to feel guilty and end up apologising lots if I try sharing with people in person, even if I try to make sure they actually are interested and even if they actually are interested, this often results in prolific blogging and tweeting. Which I've missed over the past year or two but that's one of the costs of being liked, apparently maybe.

Which is possibly a bit off-track. This is more like two posts squashed together into one, the first expressing an opinion about what drives sharing of emotional inducers and the second saying roughly "The world is fantastic and wonderful and I love it and often write lots because I want to participate in this wonder and joy with other people and share / gain understanding back and forth". That's been said before, will be again. Sometimes get caught up in the urge to.

Only recently we got a television which can display closed captions. I don't normally need those to be able to understand what is on television but I often find them a great aid at times when my auditory processing is disrupted. Even otherwise they usually help me understand what is being said better.

Consequently now that I am able to access the state of closed captioning I am very disappointed in it. When I can understand what is being said the words on the screen are sometimes jumbled, overlapping, at the wrong times (such as showing after the preceding sentence(s)) or just wrong. Which is not the same as edits for ease of reading or clarity, and live captioned programs are not what I am talking about. Two of the newest television channels often seem not to have captions at all, which is especially infuriating, although I think my sisters appreciate it since they don't like when I have the captions on.

Maybe it is just this particular television acting up, or maybe I am seeing things wrong but if not, it is disappointing the state of captioning is not what it could be.

(I do tend to use subtitles where available in DVDs and games where available, and my impression of those is of being more accurate and comprehensible)

For a couple of days now I have been back on my laptop, since it came back repaired. For almost the same time I have been back in Vista, because there were people who wanted to talk with me on Skype and the company has let its Linux version lag very far behind the current state of Skype-art.

Am likely to continue using Vista a while again because I am somewhat relying on the calendar app for the Google Sidebar to keep myself on track in my life. If I don't have something that pops up alerts without my input then I fairly completely lose track of time and lately especially I am feeling the need for being reminded to take some breaks, get some space and distance. Having that definitely does not completely fix things, and I often do not act on it, but merely having that there in my sidebar reminds of these things.

So I think I am better off for now using Vista than Ubuntu.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

(04:12:04) celestialjayde: "I find it interesting that when people are friendly to me I expect it to be a some form of entrapment or manipulation. Was going to say 'not sure why' except there are precedents... it just has not been a consistent feature of my past so I feel a bit unjustified in feeling so."
Well, but I feel myself unjustified in pretty much all areas.
(04:13:16) Pazi: Mrrr.
(04:13:20) Pazi: Have noticed that.
(04:13:55) celestialjayde: That I feel unjustified?
(04:15:10) Pazi: *nod(
(04:15:28) Pazi: Seem to presume that your thoughts/feelings are lacking in validation, not to be trusted much
(04:16:13) celestialjayde: Aye. Don't have so many experiences after all.
(04:16:35) celestialjayde: Was saying to mantic_angel not long ago, don't see myself in just about anyone's narrative.
(04:17:41) celestialjayde: So I don't feel I can claim anything to myself or speak up as among any group because I look at the stories of those people and I don't see myself there. Sometimes a little bit if I stretch.
(04:20:04) Pazi: *nodding*
(04:25:04) celestialjayde: That and reading your latest comment here - http://pazi-ashfeather.livejournal.com/229661.html - reminds me of intending to write something about revisiting most recent psychologist for seeking help late last year, and the focus on post-happening analysis from when she assured my family of me being knowing what I am doing that-
*takes breath*
The focus being on acknowledging that I was too soon immediately after in trying to express to my mother why it hurt me to presume autism made me incompetent unless certified otherwise by a professional, and not on the bit where I broke under pressure to lie and claim wrongdoing on my part during the argument just to get my mother to stop hurting and pushing at me and let me be alone.
(04:26:30) celestialjayde: Because the more I think about that, the angrier I am that her focus was on teaching me I misjudged a social moment to express my pain and not on the bit where the response to this was me being beaten down into a broken apologetic wreck.
(04:27:23) celestialjayde: And I do specifically use 'broken' here in the sense of 'people under torture can eventually be pressured to capitulate to anything simply to make the pain go away'.
(04:28:30) Pazi: *noddly*
(04:30:02) celestialjayde: I worry that linking to torture is too strong a term to apply here. Don't know how else to describe a situation where I knowingly betrayed my own principles in order to make it stop hurting.

It is morning here, and winter. At 0730 it is still dark and faint light enters only after steps are taken to sail the day, opening blinds appropriately. As I open my bedroom door to forage breakfast a realisation and its accompanying burst of relief strike me. A very simple realisation: I am not afraid to do this. Sure, there was a minor visualisation of some monstrous malevolent creature waiting outside the door, but I felt no inclination to take it as a serious possibility, no fear of opening a door and walking around the place where I live. It is a very great relief to have and appreciate such a lack of fear. To know I am (relatively) safe simply to go about my life with freedom from irrational terror. I don't always have that freedom, so when I do and realise it that awareness means a lot to me.

Only want to say a little about yesterday. Very foggy in the morning, so small the distance objects faded away, fairy lights wreathed in white. The traffic was good, but for a while everything went flat for me and I saw 2-dimensional objects arranged in a 3-dimensional landscape. Very briefly, but odd and intriguing and possible I think to replicate deliberately.

It was approximately enough my supervisor's birthday that a minor celebration was occurring. I had fortunately baked coincidental scones, so that worked out well. And for lunch one of the people I have been working with took me over to our library's shadow twin, where I got to chat with Q on her lunch break. That was fun.

Was also one of, perhaps the first time I was less pleased to be home than at my placement, especially being unable to retreat from family to WoW since not renewing. Well, sometimes it is just not pleasant to go home. I keep hoping once I can manage on my own I feel more competent, less of a screw-up in reflection of everyone else.

Industry placement thing has been going better, perhaps. Am managing to do more without needing assistance, and more complicated things with. Less nervous too, although today that seemed a bit reversed. Anxious and whimpery today despite managing stuff, and messing up a bit later in the day. Was busy in the afternoon and the noise and... visual busyness were unpleasant.

But I did manage pretty well without having to bother the permanent staff for assistance, except that they need to print for me. I have even less ability to do so than a randomly selected student, as I have no account access in the system at all.

In other news, my mother has a new laptop. She got it, I think, because she has taken up a course of study and wants reliable computer access in order to complete it (a final push it seems) and at her request I have been helping her set it up. Am a bit envious of the machine, being two years newer than mine. However, I did get a lamp out of the deal. Yes, a lovely shiny glorious lamp to keep by my bedside and give light when called upon in the dark.

Speaking of sleep, two nights ago I was woken by a nightmare and, shaking all over, lost two hours before I was able to sleep again. Not great when I needed those hours to be rested for my placement. Fortunately other than that blip my dreams seem to have returned to ordinary far. One a blood-swirling, scalpel-wielding, compulsively murderous young boy who had to be chided not to experimentally kill those around him. The other one featuring family telling me "you always take but never give". So long as I am neither woken nor shaken.

And another 'speaking of'. Speaking of sleep, I should try to get some before the hour grows too late and uncomfortable. So, trying to write first, to get done my personal things.

... and I fell asleep there, making the rest of this written the day after. Must have been tireder than I thought from losing sleep the two previous days - slept about twelve hours, five of those nowhere near my bed. Unfortunately that means rather than being pleased at having managed 221 words of writing (when I had been making slow progress that night and did most of it immediately before sleep), now I am disappointed I fell asleep before finishing this entry and getting to doing any writing at all. Ah well. I take the position I was in need of that sleep, to rest and recover.

Today has been interesting, spending about eight hours (so far) on Skype catching up with a few people I have not seen enough of in the past few days or much longer. Amusing considering I am feeling less social lately and more inclined to persue personal projects. But I like having at least some contact and social channels potentially open, and I am still learning how to regulate that more deliberately so my day does not vanish into a sea of responding to and engaging with people when I meant to be primarily doing something else entirely.

My compulsions seem to be resurfacing a bit at this placement. Not enough to be more than a minor annoyance so far, just little effects like what paths I take through the stacks or balancing tapping patterns when I make contact with something in a 'wrong' way. I suppose this has been a bit suppressed for the past few years since I have been mainly interacting with a keyboard and not so much having opportunities for showing it, so now it comes up that I am a) moving through a more complexly arranged space than home or classrooms and b) not having my hands occupied with typing gives more opportunity for the sorts of contacts that provoke my urge to pattern completion. A lot like sitting in front of a keyboard, typing text limits my ability to stim, especially with my hands, because they are already in motion.

Maybe I should rearrange habits so LiveJournal flist reading is no longer my 'settling in' activity. I tend to get rather bitter and envious about people having things in their lives, doing things I wish I could (which is nearly everything people write about). So by the time I'm caught up my enthusiasm is often damped to mopiness and I end up even less likely to be getting as much done as I would be aiming for.

Got to get settled into the long and slow walk, to find some things for feeling good about and get to where it seems I need.

What have I for feeling good about? There are people who love me and who I love, dear and close friends. That's something I didn't have until the past couple of years. So focus on that instead of still loneliness and separation.

What else? I have a local sort of friend I get along with in class. That's kind of nice.

Writing and class / employment? Not happy about either. Behind on writing but if I work harder could get to a point of being happy with the striving; this is intended. I might not find this placement to be beyond me. I might not fail to find employment. I might not fail at being able to 'take care of myself' according to the rules of this society. Getting those would be satisfying and it might happen.

Identity stuff? Can get voice interpreted as expressing desired gender with fair consistency. Hopefully can improve other aspects of situation over the next few months, matters of doctors and prescriptions. The rest perhaps is introspection and expression.

Activities? No, but maybe if I research some can be found. Also depends a lot on finding employment so there is money to get to, get into.

So what's good? Love is good. Friends are good. Both are distant so only part satisfying. Voice is good. Other stuff might improve with focused effort and dedication. Otherwise we'd get too distracted and let opportunities slip by still. Feeling good about self, that's hard work, but still aimed for.

This past week was the first back in classes, back at industry placement after a couple of weeks on break. It was a holiday period at TAFE and they wouldn't let us continue our placement during that period because their insurance would not cover it. Fair enough.

Wednesday, gave Q a lift home. Just before she got out, warned me to expect questioning the next day at the placement. The libraries she and I have been placed at are twins, basically, part of the same overall system, closely located and having complementary collections. A lot of what we have been doing at our placements involves managing the books being transferred between each, the ones returned to the other, the ones requested by students from elsewhere. That's the scene.

One of the women who has been working where I was has since been snatched up by the location Q has been placed at, working there in the last week before we were sent on break. They were talking and Q, apparently, was asked if I were gay. The answer to that was actually no, and that I even have a fiance. Well. But moving on, she thus warned me to expect lots of gossipy questions.

I was expecting something less pleasant than what transpired. It turns out people were mostly interested to have a detail from my personal life and wanted to know more. Q and I had shared a bit of mutual culture shock at realising people of roughly our age cohort really do such things. Aaanyway.

"Why didn't you mention this before?"

"It didn't come up."

It's true. I was asked variously about broad details of soltice and meeting her, what she does, our plans and suchlike. I tried to mention pazi_ashfeather but what I said seemed to get ignored in favour of something which better fit accustomed social patterns. Considered trying to be open about other stuff too, but it's hard to find moments when those things would be at all relevant, so we didn't.

Tricky, huh? And unfair.

Is like what Q said a while back: "I think if you die in Library and Information Services, you die in real life."

[Where we say today read Friday, now a couple of days previous. Writing went slow.]

Today reminds me sharply of the importance of writing the second Kays' World story. It managed a usual amount of good and bad, perhaps a bit more than most days. Industry placement, performing library work. Today was short-handed due to sickness and I had to manage the front desk alone for some stretches in the morning. Was very sluggish to start and wondering if might be coming down with a bit of sickness. But it got managed and so did other stuff, enough to be complimented at end of day for the help provided (unless that was regular make-nice).

Still, this place is showing me limits. Putting me in sight of the place where I can't make sense of my surroundings, where all those colours and shapes and noises stop meaning anything. Fortunately not crossed into, despite fear it might be. Perhaps I am fortunate to have been only potentially rather than actually having to deal with that. I did on a couple of occasions experience sufficient dissociation as to be observing my body performing its tasks without my conscious input. We might call that a state of enlightenment... it is not entirely hard. And there is a bit less stress as we keep coming back, despite the anxious whimpering on the drive there, and back home, and in those moments alone. But there were also some moments of feeling calm in the day, tentatively capable and not in every moment fraught with stress.

So. There were moments of calm and that made it better than previous days doing this work-thing. There were moments of dissociation from my own body and its actions, moments in which I felt near to losing my ability to parse coherently external input. That suggests worse than previous days. And later on, well. Mind got captured in an obsessive thought spiral, and a heavy layer of dread. Because people keep connecting this swine flu thing with the zombie-plague-apocalypse idea and that was a whole big mess of waking nightmare for me half a year ago. I suppose that is my fault - I had first the connection and though not saying it first did say to others the steps that led me there. They followed that readily, out loud. But that had been two days before, so perhaps it takes a while.

I was having no success shaking that despite repeated attempts at self-distraction. At least there was no imminent panic like there had been last year, no feeling of impending or realised reality. I think. And it was a combination of relief + deathtrap to see so many unpanicked people about. It still seemed not a good situation, terror obsession + infirm grip on self awareness and sensory processing. Fortunately I got to take a break. In it I took up to rescue myself the book I'd previously labelled a wallbanger.

It was on page seven, the passage in which our male lead reflects that it would be nice to have a woman in his life, and though he sees someone occasionally it is not love between them.

Invariably, after they'd completed their lovemaking and were lying together, she'd tell him, "You're the best, Robert, no competition, nobody even close."

He supposed that was a good thing for a man to hear, but he was not all that experienced snd had no way of knowing whether or not she was telling the truth anyway. But she did say something one time that haunted him: "Robert, there's a creature inside of you that I'm not good enough to bring out, not strong enough to reach. I sometimes have the feeling you've been here a long time, more than one lifetime, and that you've dwelt in private places none of the rest of us has even dreamed about. You frighten me, even though you're gentle with me. If I didn't fight to control myself with you, I feel like I might lose my center and never get back."

He knew in an obscure way what she was talking about. But he couldn't get his hands on it himself. He'd had these drifting kinds of thoughts, a wistful sense of the tragic combined with intense physical and intellectual powerm even as a young boy growing up in a small Ohio town. When other kids were singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," he was learning the melody and English words to a French cabaret song.

So. Wallbanger. Well, I thought so. Needn't be. Could be subject to interesting development, alternate interpretation. But for me, yah. Because it was represented to me as a human story, a love story, something that gives hope to people at what they could find in their own lives even if it seems impossible. But then we get this and suddenly our male lead is inhuman. He is not some person who might find love intense and unlooked-for, he is a god wandering lost upon the Earth, exerting a mysterious power on those whose lives he passes through. Suddenly and not yet contradicted by my resumed reading, it seems instead this story is of a lonely woman enchanted by the hidden depths of a passing masculine stranger who sweeps her off her feet.

But perhaps not. Perhaps she has her own inhuman depths, her own uncontainable qualities which set her apart, and then we have not a story which offers hope to anyone of what they might find, but two inhuman entities finding each other in a world of faded mortals. I suppose unless people, generally, are identifying with this as themselves being separate, above the most of the species.

It could turn out differently. I might be mistaken. But that's what I saw when I started and why I wanted to cast the book away. It did however help me then, to dive back into for stabilising, immersing in distraction from my own thoughts. Mostly the rest of the day went well, though some times still approached overloading senses and highlighted to at least myself slowness of putting things together.

So that's why I am reminded of the importance, personal, of writing the second Kays' World story.

It's a secret, you know. We don't know the insides of other people. We don't know their thoughts, their fears, their worries. We see the outside, and onto that we see projected certainty. We see, we doubt, our own validity, but when it comes to others even their own statements of hesitance and personal uncertainty may not be recognised by us, not internalised and realised as our shared truth.

We doubt we're real. We doubt we're valid. We think we're making it up, but other's aren't.

There's a thing about executive functioning issues often associated with autism. And I've noticed my hygiene doesn't seem to be taking care of itself. Sleeping too. I thought I could manage those since I seemed to go okay when I was younger.

I don't know, but I've identified two factors which, being addressed, should help with this a great deal. One is making time specifically for these necessary activities, the other is disengaging from what I am doing when those times come up to go deal with the scheduled important thing instead. Because I like being clean, and well rested, I just keep forgetting to make those happen.

The second part... I don't know how to make happen yet. Am hoping a mere conscious choice to put aside and do will suffice. As for the first part, that's a bit easier, and why my personal calendar is going to be for a while experimentally marked with such peculiar instructions as 'shower'.

My shoulders are sore because I have been doing push-ups, today and yesterday, and hadn't been doing anything active for some long time previous. My body has been wanting to be used, but I have long felt a bit nervous about this whole exercise thing.

See, I am quite unfit. Inactive. Strenuous and even non-strenuous activities can easily put me out of breath. I would like to become fit. However... that bothers me as a goal. I worry that, without some concrete definition of 'fit' to strive for, or even with one, whenever I get there I would set the bar a bit higher still and incrementally work my way into decidedly unhealthy territory without realising.

There are two reasons I do not exercise more. One is regular, familiar inertia. That resistance to getting started which feels silly after the fact. The other reason is I don't know how to stop. I don't know how to guarantee to myself not to keep whispering 'just a little more' every time I reach a goal, or to recognise a point sufficient for any reasonable need I will have. Perhaps that would make itself obvious on encountering.

Still, for years I have been wary of incrementing myself to death. There are other areas I keep doing it in.

The urge to deny previous love is strong, perhaps that by making it false we bolster claims of present feelings true and eternal.

If I could have said those things and meant them then, and now feel them not... it is not a transition pleasant to contemplate concerning current relationships. I think perhaps the recoiling embarrassment felt is to disbelieve the present might be as fleeting fragile as the past has been.

Though we hope it not to be.

Sometimes, in the past couple of months. Sometimes I look around at night and realise how haunted the past year was for me. I look around and realise abruptly, happily, that I am not in fear of demons, of malevolent presences lurking within or out of sight.

We are glad not to be so haunted for now, and disquieted to realise how pervasive this was in the year previous. That period - for reference - of roughly November 2007 to February 2009 in which horror and subtle paranoia washed over in its not quite subsiding ebb and flow. I do not pretend things must be always better from now, for we have had our peaks before, but still this is a happy thing to notice in absence.

With accompanying increased hip-swaying, is easier to feel tail swish while walking about. Although sometimes this can lead to self-consciousness. The embarrassed sort, not the kinaesthetic pleasure sort that was the first thing.

Fear, coupled with perfectionism. Those can lead to rejecting reading, seeing, attempting something because you fear you may learn from it, or be changed.

We speak of rigidity, and fear of... death? The sense that this self, that I must best, strive to be as ideal and superior as possible. That then to be such a being I must derive independently the stances which I hold, opinions and beliefs. In feeling pressured, compelled... in feeling it so deep and pervasive that it is not even recognised even as a pressure rather than the invisible way of things, the shape of thoughts. In so feeling that drive learning, beyond the plain questioning of information sources or studying facts and figures and formulae, learning becomes something to fear.

If we, if I, in such a view do learn from others as teachers that becomes a failure, a diminishment. It means we have failed to discover this ourselves and lost also the chance to discover it in the future for now we are tainted by incorporating the ideas of others. No longer pure, what we in future discover and think will be influenced by these others and not us not I so brilliant being.

If this the view of others as teacher, how much greater the terror and resistance of what might be called transformative experience. We fear to let go. I fear to release hold of myself. Any relinquishing of control, but especially the prospect of some definite change in result. Something from outside, you see, that if I let go, release tight hold and control on what is me and allow such influence, allow to be swept up, allow to learn or experience something so likely perspective-changing, allow that I be not sole control, adjudicator, shaper, to surrender this illusion of being solitary independent seeker who might manage a superior perfection of self-enlightenment... well, more than failure, that feels like death. So shrieking mostly inward do I flee and recoil.

I am then afraid and seek to let go, not having yet done so, because it seems sometimes death is necessary for moving forward. At least, it seems by holding on my own happiness is limited and I'm not so to get where I want to go. Not by holding on to such sources of fear.

Can't predict my availability or how long it will go.

Have been struggling a bit with conflict between sociability and anti-sociability. I miss having time with soltice and pazi_ashfeather, but also am feeling a bit dull and burned out about interacting with people, don't really know what I would do if I had that time. Nor am I being especially lively with the people I am in contact with. So I am thinking, despite feeling somewhat out of touch, I'm also needing a bit of space.

Am thinking maybe what I'm after is the option of interacting with people. I like being available if people want me and I like being able to reach out to people if I want to. Makes for less pressure, I think, to be interacting at every opportunity and gives more space for solitude when wanted or needed. Still am learning how to do this, especially how to give myself time.

The short version would be I miss them but don't have any particular desires beyond enjoyment of company.

Before I sleep I want to finish reconsolidating my presence on SHARDS / Melantha, now that we're back. Bringing back over that which was worked on elsewhere and setting everything to its proper place.

While I was in exile my fingers were itching to be writing, not having done so for a couple of weeks at that point. Unfortunately the story I should have been editing all along was locked away here and I could not get power on long enough to transfer elsewhere (this sort of calamity makes me appreciate having moved to mostly web-based services for many things), so instead I began work on the next story I wanted to write.

Now it is back here, but not without complication. The next two stories, I wanted to trial them on Celtx and yWriter (only one for each) to see if I would find software designed for the task to be convenient for me. So I have just installed the newest version of yWriter and am transferring the aforementioned newly begun story from Google Documents.

The new project wizard is opened.

Step 1: Please enter the project title

Not very good with names or titles.

Ummm...

*struck by a minor inspiration*

"A Library Fox"

There. Kind of like it, even.

Step 2: Next, please enter the author's name

Did I mention not being good with names?

uhhhhhhhhh

Oh crap.

uhhhhmmmmmm

Help? This is harder than writing the story. Who am I today? What is my name this time? If 'my' and 'name' even go together and aren't one trying to claim a unitary authority which does not belong.

No, no, no. Those names are all taken by people you know. Memory misfires; let one of yours surface, if a name must be named. A compound, nearest approximation of that particular weight and shape which would feel right. Let it for now stand.

Step 3: Now specify your project folder

*pause*

*type type type*

*stretches*

So we begin.


[Note(ish): occurrences of pronoun 'I' often a discomfitted concession to not knowing what would fit better there]

Thanks to not sleeping I finally managed to complete a project I'd set myself a couple of weeks ago.

I'd wanted to increase my familiarity with HTML, for reasons of school / work benefits and also especially on account of wanting to, so I set myself the task of creating a bundle of pages which held my stories. A sort of book, an anthology of my work shaped like a website.

I am always surprised at how long HTML takes for me to put together. Especially as once I learn the tools for the task the actual putting it together goes rather quickly - most of the time on this project has been reading up on the subject itself, and only the past few days attempting to sort layout. I am pleased to have learned a teensy bit of CSS for this too, but only a tiny bit of skipping ahead because I want to avoid use of any deprecated elements or attributes if I can.

And now it works. Not any glaring errors I have seen. Pleasant to look at, but not spectacular in even an understated sense. It works, though, and I can call the first version done to enough satisfaction for me to say so. First version, which I have playfully* decided to call v0.1, is done. Nine and a half very small stories and nine poems; eleven and a half stories if you count the version with erotica included. That seemed so few in collection, and they so short, I just had to give a correspondingly low version number, to show how far and how many places we have to go.

Jayde, I ended up excluding. She's something different and does not intersect with this at present (later, that changes). And all my larger stories, those are yet in a state of incompletion. There is at least one, maybe a couple of others I might have included, but they would have required further organisational thought to find their places and I wanted first to establish a version of this story bundle as something that works and exists.

And now it does, and I am happy with my little accomplishment. I did have, starting out, a vague idea that I might share this with people as a sort of writing sample or collected work. May as well go through with that and offer a copy, either version, of this little thing to them as would like one. Everything included is available on my journal already. And this makes another incentive to keep working on other stories as I want to work my fingers in them, shape them, tell them, and now having another place to keep them too, somewhere to arrange and enjoy what I have made, that I have made.

*and sleepily, but don't forget the playfully!

Had no intention of doing the 'new year resolution' thing. Not much allure for me personally to sit down and write out "These are the criteria by which I will judge success or failure in the year". Or maybe that is not how it goes; I don't know, I don't do these things. However, last night I did realise I wanted to have a particular thematic approach beginning this year:

Follow fewer rules

This does not override, cancel, or otherwise nullify the previous year's word - Consolidate. That one is intented to continue indefinitely. These new words, they can be woven in too, become part of our fabric.

Since recently finding some slight ability to organise my time - this is how I have been able to be cleaning - I have also been using this new-found time to catch up on things I have let get away from me. This includes email and LiveJournal comments; I stopped making a policy of checking those in March 2007, so there is a fair bit of catching up to do. I think you can imagine.

Last night I deleted 34 pages from my Hotmail inbox and have since moved on to Gmail. Why? Because there have been things I wanted to reply to but had set aside for 'later' and because I want to get rid of distracting clutter, have most available what I most want to be there.

Doing this has also stirred up a few memories. Like when my cat died in 2006, before I had met anyone I still am in contact with. Or the different styles of presentation and identity I have (and still) cycle(d) through. Right now I am up to my first, self-introductory post in transgender. It was surprising (fun and interesting) to see who replied and how many of those people have been or became ongoing contacts, often for reasons unrelated to that post.

jaydestwilight, who was regular on my flist until vanishing. Is considered something of a prototype for the artistic, mysteriously ethereal and vaguely snobbish.
udonman, was someone I met prior to joining LJ, the only contact I had here for about a week, and at the time we were tending to being an item. But we have nearly no contact these days.
ftmichael surprisingly did NOT give me a list of resources. That may have been the only direct interaction we had.
aki_no_kaze was someone I wanted to add for a long time after, but did not because I felt I needed to 'justify' that sort of thing.
kittymink. I still don't know this person.
xtractdthoughts. Nor this one.
anti_peace_riot, AKA varinobo. Was a mutual contact for a long while before defriending me without explanation.
gesundyke. It seems we have been on hugging terms much longer than I realised. May have been the first person I gave ~public textual hugs to.
whimsical_esper. Someone I added for being awesome elsewhere, not realising we'd previously met!

So done I bow, and bid adieu for now.
*vanishes 'mid smoke again into the depths of history*

Got my results back recently. Seems I have at least passed everything (mostly distinctions and most of the rest credits), even some things I thought I had received non-completion for the previous year. Only one was marked as 'withdrawn, no penalty', which puzzled me because I made no application for such. Tends to make me worry I am getting special treatment, which I often fear I am and wonder why that would happen.

Fortunately that class was about basic web design and I did complete the project, just failed to turn it in. So I should be able to address that easily enough (and maybe take the time to improve it a bit too, not satisfied with what I did). And if that works out then I get to graduate after the first semester this year, which hopefully will be a big relief.

I'll actually have qualifications for skilled work and a salary I could support myself with. That's sort of... I am a bit teary-eyed to imagine the prospect; it seems that is something I'd mostly given up thinking of as a possibility. I hope I don't mess it up.

The past few days have been pleasantly quiet. Relatively few people around, leaving me more time to myself. Been trying to take advantage of this to focus more on taking care of myself and my projects.

Slow progress so far, but a lot of what I need to learn is persistence and discipline, so sticking with it and building better habits is important. That, and learning more to be free, but that freedom perhaps ironically seems to stem a lot from gaining organisation and focus. As I've said a few times by now, having structure with which I can confidently reach for my goals will make departures easier - I will be able to have confidence that doing so is not failure or ruination and awareness to judge my actions. Everything going well enough? Great, no problem taking a spontaneous diversion or few this week. Things falling apart a bit? Better work on shoring up the foundations... unless the alternative is worth that risk.

So, I am trying to put these pieces together. Structure writing time, avoid distractions. Finding this hard. Quite hard. Think it worth learning. Once I can manage that, might be able to add time for other activities too. Learning things I want to learn, doing things I want to do. Should do for schoolwork too; I have a whole month to practice focus in.

Some things are too important to leave that long, though. Living maintenance work, things like housework, healthcare, finance. I need to add those in too. Harder than scheduling writing, but maybe not much more. Maybe not at all, once I get used to what they are and what they demand.

I am finding this quite hard, but still believing I can do it. Streamlining, allocation, awareness. Fluency built from practice. If I can't do it, how would I know?

And this was going to be a different post, but the above is divorced enough from the intended subject it gets to be two instead. I don't normally do the 'turn of year, year in review' post type thing, but there are a couple of different reviews I have been meaning to write for a few months now. Those should be done and posted over the next couple of days.

Day 3, yesterday. There is not going to be a post for yesterday. It was not a good day for me, so I am adding another day at the end.

Today has been a good day so there are a few things to mention this time. Happy because the tree is going up - the tree being my favourite part of this period, with the lights and the tinsel and shiny decorations and being a tree - when I had thought we were not doing that this year.

Happy because I actually accomplished some small things today. Tidied up some books which have been littering my floor all year, cleaned up a whole mess of paper from my classes which coated the floor. There is more work required before even the stage of dusting and vacuuming, but at least progress has been made toward making this room livable. A little more than last time.

Also, that I investigated and found some information for part of my goals for the week. I can hopefully take care of the card tomorrow, which leaves the rest of the week for working on my resume. That's the hard part. But there is progress being made. I am happy about that. Maybe, if I can keep this going, get some momentum and organisation, I could even demonstrate I could take care of myself and be something other than useless. I even got up early in the morning.

Have been for a while really, since October at the least and my brush with insomnia. This year I have been increasingly reluctant to sleep as my dreams discomfit me, and for years I have been in the habit of staying up until the early hours of the morning, until sunrise even.

Only in the past couple of months, however, have I been actively avoiding sleep. I think it likely I have been subconsciously avoiding sleep; only recently did I realise I have a habit of looking for more and more to to do and read so I do not have to sleep, until I am too tired to stay awake any longer. Lately though I have been feeling increasingly anxious after and around midnight. I feel scared and upset, not conducive moods for sleeping. Mostly I have been pushing myself until it becomes too much effort to be awake.

I think some of it is not wanting to be alone, but I think there are other reasons too. [and right now I want to cry out loud for someone to help me] I don't know exactly what it is. Maybe I am just not happy overall and feel it most at night when everyone being asleep emphasises how alone I am, don't know how to find happiness.

Speaking of happiness, what am I going to write for today's happy post?

I am going to try and find some fun stuff to do. Maybe watch a fun show, read webcomics, work on stories. Also some busywork. Busywork is good. Probably the result will be exhausting myself to sleep again but that is not the goal. Goal is to feel good so I can say "Today has been a happy day, this is the feeling I wish to carry with me into the next day."

It might help too if I start going to bed earlier, probably after my mother but before my sisters so I can feel comforted there is still someone up and about. Maybe stay up overnight tonight and sleep early tomorrow. Requires discipline to continue sleeping early. Maybe I will learn to restrict myself to activities which are at least one of productive and enjoyable, so when I put something down to sleep I can look forward to picking it up again the next day.

Same old, same old goals really. Pervasive problems, pervasive solutions seen from many angles. Learn to have fun and learn to do what I need to do in order to improve my life. Set aside that which helps neither.

Staying up tonight is risky since I would like to have some time with pazi_ashfeather later, although I think I have neither asked it of nor promised it to her, so at least it is only myself who would be disappointed so far.

Overall, even though there are plenty of good points my life is a pretty sad mess and I have a lot of work to do before I am happy participating in it.

Can I post this public? Yeah, I think I can. In the right sort of mood to believe the world benefits when people show vulnerability as well as the hard stuff. What's that called, grandiose? I often don't feel human, but do think I care enough about them to try as hard as I can to be one.

... is being able to use it to scratch my arms.

One of the less fun things is it not going away when I want it to.

This is a busy week for me. As well as classes, tomorrow I will be out all day for an endocrinological appointment. There will be the usual interview with the doctor to... what? Make sure my life is going okay and I am making acceptable progress in my metrics, not freaking out from HRT? Perhaps there will be measurements. Blood will be drawn. I hope not to faint this time; I will not be fasting and I will bring food with me. I will try to remember the advice I was given last time on how to remain conscious; the only part I can bring to mind now is to ask for a narrower needle. Hopefully that is not mixed up.

Fainting. That's an odd sort of thing. Perhaps I should hope I do, to have more experiences to draw from in trying to understand it. It seems a lot due to poor circulation on my part. My extremities cool easily and often when standing I find myself dizzy, with vision obscured for several seconds and needing to steady myself. It is easy to imagine this leading to fainting outright after a couple of vials of blood have been taken.

Then again, I have had a problem with needles as far back as I can remember. Childhood memories of quite a lot of crying and fear at the prospect of a vaccination, I think enough that it was decided not to proceed. I don't cry or scream when offered a needle these days, nor flee, but I do feel quite tense about it. Having fainted the last few times when attempting to move after does not help; I get anxious instead, worried about fainting again, and that probably exacerbates the situation. I am nervous now.

We will see what happens tomorrow.

On Friday I have an appointment with a psychologist. I am nervous about that too. I still want to withdraw myself from that and say I can, unassisted, manage myself. I feel like to go and ask for help would be an act of weakness, a failure.

I suspect more than a few reading this could empathise with that feeling. Some I have even advised to the contrary, that recognising a resource which could be of benefit to oneself and seeking it out is not weakness, it is strength (in the admission that something outside oneself could be beneficial in a society which demands we strive for the opposite if at all possible), it is self-care, and both of those are good things. Something I have not yet said is that if such aid were sought because of weakness on the part of the seeker, that would not be a bad thing either. If I say "I am weak and I need help" where in that is anything that I should feel ashamed or be condemned for, except that what I am is not what I am told I ought to be?

Not that simply uttering those words banishes such feelings. I do think ideas of 'strength' and 'weakness' in contexts like this (and much more broadly within society) serve mainly as misdirection pointing people at standards to measure themselves against as an arbiter of personal worth, or hurt themselves trying to meet. Far more important, I think, to recognise needs, or opportunities, or resources, and make use of them without worrying if this makes one weak or strong. And like I said at the beginning of the paragraph, this is far easier said than done. These ideas of 'strength' and 'weakness' are deeply engrained.

Well, I suppose I am weak by those standards. Though I think all persons have limits, it does not change that I found myself in a situation of facing mine. I could bear the situation I found myself in, at least for so long as I was there, but I could also see that if it grew worse it would break me at some point. Even if there were no increase of intensity, mere duration would have the same effect eventually - on two occasions how I would endure long enough for someone to come home, and only on the second occasion did I follow through on my resolution (made on both occasions) to make this appointment.

Perhaps I could endure, overcome, triumph without professional assistance. I would not attempt to guarantee this. Even if I could, I do not want to. I do not want to face such a dreadful thing alone. and that is why I made the appointment. My friends, my loved ones, they have been a tremendous help, but I do not want to rely solely on them for support. They have helped me with their support, their presence, insights which have shifted my beliefs about what is going on and how to cope with it. I am still hoping that with professional help I can avoid plunging into those particular depths again. To be honest, in the first half of this year I found myself in another situation which made me realise enough pressure would eventually see me break the vow I made to myself about suicide. And right now I am thinking I would rather face that particular hell if forced to choose between them, because it was only depression, only numbness, and pain, and eventually death. Relatively peaceful, and I wouldn't be screaming the same way[1].

That has been perhaps my theme since my psychological assessment and the argument following. Everyone breaks. They say so about torture, and it holds even if not performed by men in dark rooms with sinister implements. Under enough pressure... that sounds like an unfalsifiable claim, doesn't it? Enough. "Well I did experienced X and I did not break under that pressure." "Then clearly X was within your threshold and, had it pushed beyond, you would have." Enough. Perhaps I seek to bring everyone else down with me, say they can be no better than I - since I cannot honestly deny my own words, my actions, my thoughts - but I do believe it holds true. I think I hope it holds true too, those hopeful words "What matters is what you do after". Even if... but that is a different post.

I worry about presenting myself. Since I am not in that state of mind currently and do not expect to be on the day, how would I convey it? If I were, how would I? And how would I remember what it is I want to bring up, not only the details, but what they are at all? I have been thinking I might print out and give to her copies of my posts touching on the relevant matters as an aid. This was actually the original purpose of the post, to solicit people's opinions on the idea.

This has taken me four hours longer to write than I intended. I had better sleep now if I am to make my appointment tomorrow.

[1] Would I still think so then? I honestly suspect I would, though at least now I have perhaps greater fleetness of mind. In either case I am never entirely free of the other.

While at the State Records yesterday I realised why I seldom touch things. Basically, because it is very easy to get... stuck, with length or pattern of contact and trying to make it balance or be complete. Not being able to complete patterns like that can be painful, whether by being pulled away or simply lacking the fine control to get it right, leading to things spiralling rapidly out of control.

The Dark Days of Summer are here. That blend of light and dark, and heat, the green growing and the animate, the heavy shadow of clouds and spark of lightning, feel of the air in motion and the scent of water, cool coating all.

We are charged, and called to awaken.

What I wrote here was incomplete.

The happiness, the joy at diminished fear allowing me to live, those were real. However, the thoughts which had prompted those nightmarish days, the... mental images, those did not vanish. They did cease to dominate my thoughts or press with immediacy, certainly reduced in frequency and intensity, so I could say truly I was relieved and unafraid. It was just imaginings now, as easily ignored as the many other sets which reside in here.

With time, and until reminded, I can even forget about them. Had not reached that stage yet. Yesterday... I experienced another peak of anxiety and fear, that paralysing sick feeling of helpless terror and imminent threat.

In the morning I showered and thought I might die trapped in the bathroom if there were to be a zombie outside the door. I considered our dog Angel (who was not at all helpful in her own outbreak of nerves that morning, following me in to the bathroom in her own apparent shaking fear of being alone) possible threat of sudden attack, or emergency food in desperation. I considered dismantling my razor for use as weapon of last resort or implement of suicide. I thought about being so disconnected from my laptop and unable to reach out or communicate any last words.

Showering, I held myself and tried to say it was okay, that it was okay to be afraid and let it out. I couldn't bring myself to. I felt sick. Safety contracted until the walls of the shower itself were the only gesture in that direction. I remain relieved I have yet to see the things my mind's eye insists on.

As I have managed so far, I made myself continue my life, to leave the room, and get dressed, and go back out into the living areas. Fortunately soltice was online and available to call on Skype. I was insistent on video, to assure myself I spoke to a living human.

We talked long time and she was a tremendous help. I was finally able to cry a bit, and let things out. Stress, anxiety, obligation, much of it self-imposed. I had asked myself during that shower, 'why zombies?', and they seem to represent to me the inexorable closing in of hopelessness and death with no chance of escape but only, sometimes, a choice in how to die. And soltice helped. We talked of anxiety, stress, pressure and coping with it. The reminder that loosening ourselves from obligation can allow us to get more done, when we allow it to be okay doing only what we can at the time and letting the rest go. Also the importance of letting fun be fun rather than a drudgery.

At the beginning of the conversation I had been thinking myself in need of anti-anxiety medication, feeling this must be a neurochemical issue with no focus. Talking with soltice I realised there is indeed a lot I am stressed with and began to think that if I can alleviate and manage this stress I might be able to be happy with my functioning without needing medication. Of course that is unknown still, and there may be an underlying issue I could not manage unmedicated, but I am now less certain of its necessity.

Thanks to soltice (and with the help of pazi_ashfeather and mantic_angel) I was feeling again light and happy by the time she left for the gym. I resolved to loosen my burden of self-imposed obligation and take some ease that afternoon and evening. I actually was looking forward to writing but did not get to it, being tired and lacking sleep lately.

This is not being an easy shift for me to make. I have something of a cycle, of building stress until something breaks, then realising again I am allowed to have fun and release myself from pressure, followed by intense relief and I slip into feeling as if I can add 'just this thing more' and piling obligation on myself again.

Right now I am feeling tense about my lack of accomplishment for the day so far. Trying to calm myself down again, remember it is okay. Plus, if I am too stressed to actually do anything or even choose something to do, that is self-reinforcing.

I wrote a little bit on November 5, but not in the two days since. Mostly because I have been tired and not sleeping much. I am looking forward to writing more today though. Would be happy to get back into that.

Epic Fantasy

9,826 + 436 (4.4% more)

Feeling so very much better today, I feel like laughing and jumping for joy. It is a very great relief to not be afraid to turn corners or open doors, to be not uneasy at open doors in a room and not feel a need to look continually fearfully over my shoulder.

I think my fever has lifted. My joints feel not aching today and the only overheating I experience is the local temperature in mid to high thirties. Finally have recovered sleep, eleven hours last night after getting only ten total the previous three days (and six of those from falling asleep exhausted during the day).

Yesterday I talked with my sister about my hypothesis, that fever and sickness have been largely responsible for the waking and sleeping nightmare that has been the previous five days of my life. She suggested I might have caught what she was sick with the previous week, when she was woken by nightmares several nights by nightmares and screaming at least once, plus what sounded like a painful proprioception error of her own (she was staying somewhere else at the time this happened). This seems plausible.

Am rewarding myself for feeling better with cleaning, form-filling, writing, and watching movies (The Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets).

Forgot to add in earlier post that when we went to see Wall-E the shopping centre had Christmas Decorations up and that was wonderful. Would have taken photos if I'd brought my camera.

I think I have some insight now into what is going on with me over the past few days.

It has been less than 2.5 hours since I went to sleep and I am awake again. Scared, tired, trembling. Triumphant. I was not woken this time by a nightmare, possibly helped by a combination of increased awareness of the situation, overall improved mental state, and taking care to be thinking pleasing thoughts before sleeping. Instead I think I was woken by overheating, which is presently a trade-off so I would be able to sleep in the first place.

I think I am sick. This has been difficult to notice because I am not currently suffering from a cough or running nose. My ears, well. On Tuesday there were a couple of shifts as if their 'blocked status' had suddenly changed, leaving me feeling temporarily as if I were having difficulty hearing. On Monday and possibly a bit before I felt overheated and as if my body were radiating heat; I think I have had a fever over the past few days, but on Monday at least it was somewhat masked by the day itself being very hot. My joints have been aching too the past couple of days and my sleep has been fitful and easily disrupted.

The fever is very important. I have a history of some very unpleasant mental states associated with those; I am sure most people are familiar with the term 'fever dream' and suspect a majority have experienced this for themselves. When I was a child I had what have been described as night terrors; when I was sick I would keep my family awake through the night screaming uncontrollably from nightmares and sensory distress.

The nightmares would tend to focus, I think, on some story I had recently been exposed to. At least the only example I recall with an identifiable focus I can recall picked the first volume of The Death Gate Cycle even though that series has never been frightening to me. As for the sensory distress, that remains the most horrible experience I can recall. For a while now I have tried to find some way to describe it to others and found my attempts vague and severely lacking, but last night before sleeping I had an insight which I think will allow me to do a bit better now.

I do not know how much of this is commonplace among people, as I do not recall seeing it described anywhere. Perhaps it is one of those things so ordinary it is taken for granted and which I overlook. But since I do not know, I shall attempt to be thorough. Feverish states tend to exaggerate my experience of tactile sensations and what would ordinarily be pleasant or neutral can be found uncomfortable. Pretty sure that part is familiar to people. Actually it seems more a distortion than a plain exaggeration, with some parts of touch seeming missing and others intensified.

Last night while I lay in bed I attempted to shift my legs and found them not located quite where I had thought they were. This proprioception error combined with the tactile distortion (I wonder if both are related to the fever) to produce a definite sense of wrongness of sensation which echoed my former night terrors. It can become extremely painful and distressing when every tactile sensation is 'wrong' and my sense of the size and shape and arrangement of my body is distorted.

In this case it was helpful because I realised this sensation was probably what triggered the nightmares of the previous two nights, which were sufficiently reminiscent of my night terrors that I became afraid they were returning. Realising this as a likely cause has been comforting and I attribute it as a likely cause to my lack of nightmares this time, though I expect something like it will happen again.

I suspect also my feverish state has contributed to the other fears and paranoias I have been experiencing recently, although I do not believe it to be solely responsible, and still feel I may find it beneficial to see a mental health professional.

When I was younger I would question people about their positions and beliefs, asking them to justify, provide sources and motives. Frequently annoyed, upset, angry. More than once pushed people to tears when I would not relent in questioning them.

Eventually I realised from observation how much this sort of questioning hurt people, never mind that it was also unproductive. I worked to stop hurting people in this way. For a long time after my diagnosis I blamed such behaviour on having Asperger's Syndrome and believed myself innately clueless and hurtful. I felt fundamentally flawed for having hurt people in that and similar ways.

[The past tense was used above, but doing so is only partially truthful. More so with time.]

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

I remember when I was younger, being clumsy, clueless and spaced out. The sort of child who would blunder into a situation and have little awareness of what was going on while still in its midst. I felt I was left out of explanations and plans everyone else was clued into and could only look around in confusion when situations unexpectedly changed, listlessly attempting to mimic those around me in hope of finding footing.

One thing I came out of that with was a belief I have zero fashion sense or ability to coordinate colours. I still find myself frequently unaware of what to do, how to do, when and in what order, so these days I ask. I think I used to believe I had to work everything out myself, that if I were as smart as everyone told me, I would be able to do that. At some point this changed and was replaced with the belief that intelligent sensible, responsible and humane behaviour included admitting error and ignorance, and seeking help. So I ask questions.

Maybe I always did ask but do not recall. Maybe I have carried through my life the appearance, and perhaps the fact, of helplessness. Maybe it is consequently natural for people to assume I could not know what I am doing or be aware of my situation and the decisions I make, and to believe that my life should be ordered according to the democratic input of others. Yeah, maybe I look like I need people to tell me how to live.

I still am often clueless and stumbling my way through life. I have long believed myself basically incompetent at living. And I am afraid of confidence, because when I am confident and when I relax my hold on myself is when I blunder most and cause hurt or ruin. However I do not want my autonomy to belong to others. Even if I seek input I do not wish to turn over the decision itself. And I do not wish to believe I need this.

That seems a bit ironic.

( Is lengthy )

Last week I played go with mantic_angel. Go is not a game I have played much of so far - maybe six starts over the past year and no games proceeding very far before petering out (all online of course). With the difference in our experience I was spotted three stones and very quickly was losing quite badly.

I do not take well to definitely losing. Tend to get sulky, upset, angry. So I stopped paying attention to the moves not long into the game and focused instead on my assignment. When the game continued to not go away and leave me to work, I started trying actively to lose. It still took too much of my attention so I gave up on doing anything else seriously and made moves as quickly as I could until we ran out of space.

Of course I kept hoping I would somehow win, but what I was mostly after was making it go away and stop humiliating me. A lot of unhappiness in my life probably stems from this sort of experience; I have an unreasonable, arrogant expectation that I will be skilled, or talented, or quickly learn whatever I am doing. When I am not best, or notable, or particularly proficient, or anything else of the sort, I quickly become frustrated, feel hurt and angry and inclined to tantrum.

Funny thing is, there is not actually any area of my life which supports this attitude. I think I would be a lot happier if I were to accept that I am not actually exceptional or talented. Then I would stop expecting to be noticed or to do well. Maybe instead I could do things for personal pleasure or satisfaction. Almost certain acknowledging that I am not special would lead to being less obnoxious or bitter toward others.

This matches well with recent thoughts regarding other areas of my life, such as writing. Accepting I am not actually very good at it means I can stop worrying about whether it would be well-regarded, or publishable, or even about sharing it publicly. Instead, I can just work on making sure it is something I am satisfied with for myself.

If a situation is unpleasant, it can be endured, or the situation can be changed to a more pleasant one, or the entity experiencing the situation can be adjusted to find it more palatable. Since I do not wish to endure the present situation, and I cannot cause myself to be superlatively talented in all areas, and I do not intend yet to remove myself from existence, the only option appears to be 'realising I am not actually good at stuff'.

Improving ability is something I might be able to do. However, I think I should not count on any such thing; it would be a perpetuation of this idea that I am or can expect to be exceptional.

Edit: because I was not thinking clearly at the time, this post was originally mistitled 'Games'. The new title is more accurate to its intended message: that I would be happier without ambition to or expectation of greatness.

Tonight is the sort of night in which I feel tremendous optimism and capability. So far doing a good job of not letting that trick me into overloading on things to do and thus stalling (like an engine).

So tonight we are reading the book my mother has on Asperger's Syndrome, to see what her information source is telling her: The Complete Guide to Asperger's Syndrome by Tony Attwood, ISBN 184310495.

Getting furious at the back cover is perhaps not the best start:

'Tony Attwood explores in depth the complexity of the mysterious group of clinical pictures known collectively as Asperger's syndrome, part of the wider autistic spectrum. He describes all the puzzling and fascinating aspects of these conditions and brings them vividly to life with illustrations from personal histories. He has achieved a real empathic understanding of children and adults whose basic problem is a biologically based lack of empathy with others. The book is to be highly recommended.'
- Lorna Wing

This is just wrong. I am capable of empathy, as are many other people I know, and a frequent complaint I see is that this is a false stereotype, when it is actually expressing empathy and communicating in ways others understand which is often difficult, or understanding the signals others are giving - as well as the lack of empathy shown by those who are supposedly innately superior to us in that area. This suggests the author has NOT achieved an empathic understanding because if he did he would realise this.

I showed it to my sister and she agreed, as well as picking up on and being outraged by the dehumanising term 'clinical pictures', speaking of persons with Asperger's syndrome as if they are not persons but puzzles.

Still, calming down, I told myself this person is not necessarily accurately representing the contents of the book, and perhaps the author did not see this quote or did not have control over what promotional quotes went on to the book.

This cannot be the book she mentioned having had when I was first diagnosed, since it was first published in 2006. I asked her about that and we could not find the old book. It seems likely it was lent to someone who has not returned it. While looking for it I mentioned my objections to that promotional quote and got told (paraphrased from several repetitions) "That is because you have a very mild case, other people have it much worse and do not have empathy." When I pointed out that some other people do not experience empathy either, she said "But those are sick, messed up people". Uh, thanks.

I am very inclined to be hostile to this book and what it contains, as some of its contents have been used directly as justification for denying portions of my identity.

The Preface is interesting, particularly the notes about the conditions in which Hans Asperger published his paper (Nazi-occupied Austria) - the statement that "education will 'render harmless the dangers which are in a child's genetic disposition'" make sense in the context of trying to prevent the sterilisation and murder of people, but I wonder, if true, what influence this might have had on subsequent developments after context was lost. Perhaps not much. Re-education to normalise people seems the standard sort of response and if Asperger had not advocated it originally I am confident others would have soon after.

What also interests me about the preface is what is meant when Attwood talks of the importance of learning to identify Asperger's in very young children so they can benefit from early intervention. What is the intended outcome of these interventions and what is their intended benefit (and to who)? Managing sensory perception issues is one mentioned later and seems like something which would be very useful.

I am more ambivalent about "We also need to develop and evaluate programs to encourage friendship and relationship skills, the management of emotions and the constructive application of special interests." Could go either way, and those can be useful, but I am wary because they could also be used for the purpose of shaping people into what they are not and do not want to be - I see those skills as useful to have when wanted, but developing them should not be used as an excuse to erase the original person in the name of making em 'acceptable'.

At this point I wonder if I should be so critical. After all, I am so often told how 'high functioning' I am and how mild my case is, so what right have I to object to what may not apply to me if it applies to others, especially since I clearly cannot really understand what is going on? But I am not for denying people choices and options for their own lives, but opposed to requiring people to be 'fixed' to meet the standards of others when they may not wish to. And I am trying to restrict what I say to my own experiences and observations, and if I have misrepresented something, hoping that I would accept correction with good grace.

The rest of the preface seems decent though. Not really a place for going into depth.

mantic_angel has suggested 5 hours a week would probably work for programming. If anyone can provide an informed estimate of the time investment required to obtain good results from studying Mandarin or mathematics or practicing keyboard (piano), that would be very helpful.

I still intend to search on these things, but it is often handy to have a person available who might be interacted with on the subject - there are often particular details I wish to know which are not covered in print materials and which do not seem readily communicable outside of interpersonal discourse.

As for programming itself, I am reminded that I would need to choose which language to learn, unless I want to try learning more than one at once which seems... something to which the phrase "biting off more than can be chewed" would be appropriate. I am not trying to burn myself out. I am trying to shift into a state of being generally interested and engaged and actively using my brain and doing things which I enjoy. And this does allow for 'vegging out', which is also an important and enjoyable activity and some of these things probably constitute such.

That paragraph sort of got away from me. Was intended to solicit suggestions from people about what programming language I may want to learn, hopefully with reasons why they think it would be a good idea, so I could make a more informed choice. Unfortunately I have little idea what I would want to do with such knowledge; I tend to think ideas for how to apply things come with greater understanding of the thing in question. When I was writing Seeing the Lights I wanted to make a tool which would allow me to match date and day-of-week for Aurora with date and day-of-week for me and better manage / coordinate her time with mine. Would still be interested in such a thing. I am very much ignorant when it comes to programming though, and about the extent of my current skill is using HTML to produce a very basic web page. So I do not know what I am doing and would like the sort of input which I could discuss with people and refine my ideas of what I want and how to go about attaining this.

These posts need a tag. Or an index.

Things I want to do:
Write
Learn Chinese
Learn programming
Improve mathematical skills
Read (books, fiction and non-)
Read (webcomics)
Play games
Watch stuff I want to watch
Learn to play keyboard instruments

Things I feel obligated to do:
Read flist, respond as much as I am able
Reading of on-line materials

Those lists are probably quite incomplete. There is a lot of overlap too, such as RSS feeds and webcomics I want to read, but for which this desire translates into a sense of obligation and taking on more than my capacity, so that there is no time left for me to do anything else.

I think one part of creating such a state of affairs is finding out how much time I should be setting aside for the things I want to do if I want to make them worthwhile. I doubt any of those would seem worthwhile to me at, frex, five minutes per week.

Disorganisation, poor use of time is a reason I have not been doing things I want to / think are important to do. It may take an hour or two to catch up on people's journals each evening but that still leaves plenty in which I do not do other things. Often I take to refreshing the page every half hour or so, casting a gradually wider net of subscribed things from which to pull reading material. An aimless sort of state. Does not help that posts of any length tend to take hours in composition. I seem to be a very slow writer. A very easily distractible one.

So it is not a lack of time, at least in that I do appear to have time available for many or most of the things I want to do. I just find myself not knowing how to choose between some as options and daunted by the prospect of attempting others. In an attempt to make this easier I intend to determine how much time is required for the especially skill- and learning-based activities. Maybe I can make a spinny wheel thing for the others.

Am getting anxious typing this, the previous paragraph especially. Feeling as if skin too tight and wanting to scream frustrated, to think of trying to make a choice between activities and actually doing them.

The other part of this (assuming there are only two) is getting away from these feelings of obligation about activities I do not necessarily wish to be pursuing at the time, this feeling that I must keep up with and read everything I subscribe to and not even cull that selection so long as I possess the capacity to make pretension of reading it. 'Read LiveJournal' is not what I wish my default activity to be. More than that I am wanting to be able to easily move on to other activities or even go to those first.

This is hard, akin to fingernails on chalkboard (akin, not the same). May just have to accept pain as a consequence of doing what I want until I become accustomed to it. Much of this is due to slipping into the easy. I tend to be engaged in other settling activities when I open my browser, such as eating something I do not want to get on the keys, and so settle on flist as something to keep myself occupied while doing this. But that tends to lead to reading the rest too, and once I have done that I am well settled into a passive mode. It becomes difficult to shift out of that into actively doing something. Even other sorts of reading are stressful to switch to because of the way I have things (mentally) set up.

Catching up still seems useful to me. I do in fact want to read what other people have posted on their journals and to respond if I have responses to offer. However, it does not seem to do me any good to be where I start. I think it would be more useful for me to check first my email (as something which may actually require timely attending to), responses to my own posts (included in email), and subscribe to notifications to any posts I may want to follow (again, covered by email) so that I do not have to scroll through the page to find them and consequently am less likely to slip into reading the whole thing. Then, move on to the doing of other activities with the reading of the 'friends page' later in the evening.

This still runs the risk of being 'caught', by friends chatting or links or something catching the eye. Less, though. Maybe even easier to slip away from. Friends, of course, are not something to avoid normally, but hopefully would be understanding if I were doing also something else. Tonight I was excited by the prospect of finishing this reading early and being relatively obligation-free for the evening, yet indecision and stress at the prospect of choosing has led to my doing none of the things I thought I might. Also to writing this.

I think having some sort of framework to operate in would help me with this. Once I know what the various things I want to do will require in terms of time invested I can arrange to have that time available and an awareness of it. I think this level of structure would actually help me to be more flexible once I have named and measured bits of time to rearrange. More clearly seeing what is being traded off against what and where.

And of course there is homework to be fit in and hopefully later employment.

Just realised that when conscious and capable of acting I often have the option of doing things I want or like to. Am going to try and remember this.

Have not had much success remembering to ask myself regularly what is important for me to do, but to it is (re-)added the question "What do I want to do?".

My assignment may or may not get done. I will work on it but I intend not to torment myself whenever I get stuck.

This post serves also as a reminder of <a href="http://aesmael.livejournal.com/331480.html">these resolutions</a>, tempered by the importance of also attending to my own happiness.

Originally published at a denizen's entertainment. You can comment here or there.

I have not been updating much recently. This seems odd to me, as I used to post as often as half a dozen times a day.

It might be tempting to blame this on Pokemon, which I have recently started playing again and the playing of which has been interfering with my ability to hold conversations with people. But that would only apply to the past couple of days at most and I am talking about something of months.

(I started with Yellow, by the way, and so far have a little team in Vista counting of course a pikachu [Chikapu], rattata [Ratsy], pidgey [Perchy] and two nidorans, male and female [Nirodan and Nita, respectively].)

For the past several weeks I have been undertaking an industry placement for TAFE two days a week, which means working in a somewhat looking Catholic high school library. It has been interesting and fun. I got to do actual cataloging for a catalogue. Well, copy-cataloguing. Also designed and put up a display on this year's Olympics, shelving, cleaning shelves, some circulation (mostly the checking out of laptops to students, who seldom borrow books when I am looking) and end-processing. Also recently making sure signage is in the right place and designing new signs for the shelves.

This necessitated much colour-matching yesterday, to get the new signs with their number breakdown to match the colours of the existing signs pointing to the first hundred divisions. The other people there seemed to think this was a sort of brilliant idea so yay. Currently that is in an intermediate state of being cut to size before getting laminated, after I spent much of yesterday calculating the right font size to use to get the desired spacing, and other such sign-related activities.

The point of saying all this is that I have been doing work-type things for nearly the first time in my life and although for a while it was leaving me tired unto sleep once I got home (now less so to the point of being able to be productive ish in my own time again) and it has been interesting and varied and even in some cases fun. So far I have managed not to succumb to the occasional bouts of anxiety which have me wanting to whimper in a corner until it goes away and I have managed to do socialising a bit.

So. Library work. I can do this. I have also been finding that, if this is what library work is, it is not interesting enough for me to want to do indefinitely. Fortunately it is something I can do and not hate and even enjoy in parts, so I am not looking to abandon it even for the next several years barring some unexpected opportunity, and may well continue with it for a very long time. However, I will definitely be considering what else I might do that could provide me with more intellectual satisfaction.

Astronomy is something I have been wanting more and more to get back to. Doing so would mean really working on my mathematical skills, which I keep not doing. Still not sure how to do so, though I am sure it involves cutting down on the amount I feel obligated to do online and especially the things I do to shut off my brain and thought. Even if I do, I am doubtful I would want to pursue a career in research. It seems laden with a lot of distasteful scrabbling for funds and tenure and a whole lot of pressures not really related to learning about the universe.

Writing is something else. Despite my occasional mutterings about the end of my writing, I do not intend to give it up. I am less focused these days on the idea of publication, and even if I am published it is unlikely I would be so successful and prolific that I would be able to write full-time. It might however provide a diversion from work which would satisfy me. I might find, too, this 'satisfaction' thing in other aspects of my life which I do not expect.

Satisfy, that is a curious sort of word to use. I do not imagine myself ever being satisfied in life, experiencing contentment without ambition. But I might apply that word to the pursuit of things, to engagement with what I am doing, to the journey itself even if no destination can quite compare.

While writing this I have been thinking about my recent decline in posting. There have been ideas.

One is that I am currently in three romantic relationships and quite possibly this has the effect of socially saturating me. There are people (not limited to those I am in relationships with, though nearly so) who are willing to talk to me on a near-daily basis in interesting ways. I do not have much desire to seek out social contact outside what I already have - the main reason at present is the inconvenience of the hours, which leave me often awake with no one about.

Another is that posting is a habit and a mindset, and one I have fallen out of. More than once over the past few weeks I have begun writing a post only to lose heart soon after. I was a bit depressed in the first half of the year and this may have had an effect.

The last one in this little list is that I have been doing such things as going to classes and this industry placement, and I find such activities exhausting beyond their content. Often the first day after these (Tuonday and Sriday currently) I spend decompressing, not doing much at all beyond recovery. So this is going to cut into what I actually do in my free time, although it seems to be improving.

And that seems to be all for now.

Listening again to the episode of Are We Alone listed with this post. The guest speaking now is William Crossman. He is talking about his belief that talking computers will replace reading and writing by 2050.

His claim as I understand it is that verbal and oral communication will be facilitated by computers such that there is no need for being able to read or to write, and the population overall will become functionally illiterate. This, he is advocating as literacy being superseded, and humans as a naturally oral computer, not issuing a warning of the dangers ahead.

I think this is it and that I have conveyed what is going on but... the show is still playing and it is really difficult for me to think or to focus. Which brings me to the point of this post: no, please no. Although Crossman indicated several times that signing would be something these computers could handle, so that deaf people would be able to participate, and although he talks about making communication and access easier for people with disabilities who are not well able to write or read, the elimination of text from society would make things much harder for me and probably for a great many other people.

There is a reason I tend to skip podcasts when they come on in my playlists and, increasingly, songs with words. Verbal communication tends to shut me down. Hearing voice very often has a nearly paralytic effect on me as processing it often takes away my ability to do anything else and I tend not to be able to ignore it enough to be able to function. Speech too can be difficult for me, taking a long time to find and to say words, especially if I am under any stress. Unless I am so stressed I begin babbling and not making sense.

Text, reading and writing, are far easier for me. I tend to lose words as soon as I hear them; often I retain the sense of it but often also I need to ask people to repeat themselves one or a few times. It is not rare for voices to be unpleasant or painful to hear, though generally I can block out this fact. In text I tend to be more fluent in conversation, or better able to pick up again if something has happened and I lost focus, because the words are right there for me to read again and respond to.

Auditory and verbal difficulties are I believe common among people on the autism spectrum. Most of the time I pass for neurotypical and manage fine, but the impression I have is that I am about as verbal as it gets. The world Crossman envisions would severely hamper my ability to communicate and access information, but many others would be worse off.

A couple of days ago I read something which gave me pause. A person was describing eir experience with dissociating and I recognised much of it as things I do. Things I had regarded as ordinary, commonplace and unremarkable experiences. I did tend to think of these experiences as personal failings, lapses in discipline to be overcome. This view has not necessarily been discarded but now there are competing perspectives.

This relates to a reason I started writing here. I do not know what an ordinary experience of life is like. I do not know if other people experience memory or thought in the same ways I do, or as each other. There appear to be many assumptions I make about what is ordinary or commonplace which do not match with observation; observation leads me to believe this is also true for most if not all other persons.

One reason I started this journal was hoping that sharing my own understanding, my own processes and self-awareness and hypotheses, other people might be inspired to do likewise. This journal is in part a project aimed at increasing understanding and awareness of humans and the variations of same.

It is not something I have been especially diligent about. Months have passed in which I did not remember that this was even an idea I had. It is far from the entire aim of this journal, which could be summarised as 'whatever I think it is at the time someone asks'.

I have also not been diligent about openness when I have written of such things. Although there is plenty I am willing to write openly of in a public or semi-public way there is also plenty I am not. It can shift wildly depending on how comfortable or safe I am feeling at the time and at least one thing I am not writing openly about in part because I do not know how to do so coherently. Interesting to see what is comfortable being said and when.

Back to dissociation. I talked about this a bit with pazi_ashfeather, did some cursory poking around on Wikipedia. Although I had seen the term many times in the past I had not yet performed any investigation of what it is or means. Good enough for a start, perhaps.

Of the articles I looked at, one of the most interesting covered depersonalisation disorder. Much of that seemed quite familiar although not so much that I would leap to self-diagnose on the basis of an encyclopedia article.

What struck me most was the description of not feeling in control of speech or movements, or feeling detached from thoughts or emotions. It put me in mind of the story Learning to be Me by Greg Egan, as well as some of how I think the world works. I do not believe is an 'I' which makes decisions, or that people make decisions at all. Rather, I tend to think of consciousness as a phenomena which arises incidentally and normally experiences itself as making decisions in an illusory way. In this light I might describe people diagnosable with depersonalisation disorder as 'extra sane' for being able to perceive how things actually are.

Still, it does suggest a new perspective.

aesmael: *explains worldview / theory of mind*

Person B: That's, uh, that's depersonalisation disorder. Not everyone has that.

aesmael: Oh.

Another thing I noted while looking at these articles was the variety of my response to details of them. Some sparked recognition of similarity, some other things not sparking so and passed over, while a few provoked angry insistence that they were not me at all. So, interesting.

This is convenient. Over the past couple of days I had been considering writing a post on this topic.

In my earliest memory I could not have been older than three years, almost certainly under two on account of where we were living. I had just woken up, and recall a strong impression of green, likely the carpet. What I recall most, however, are my thoughts. I wondered if this world were real or illusion, suspecting I might not have woken up and I or someone else were dreaming. I could not be sure, so I went along with this provisional reality just in case, resolved to consider this further as I could.

The matter remains under investigation.

Josh Rosenau|Thoughts from Kansas writes about religious conservatives and their apparent belief that heterosexual relationships are fundamentally unstable and need protection.

I am not exaggerating or being euphemistic or speculating. He quotes from material by James Dobson and Al Janssen of Focus on the Family which indicate a belief that love itself is insufficient to sustain a relationship, that it requires firm vows and legal obstacles to keep a couple together. Very big on the idea of marriage being an unbreakable contract, binding until death.

This valuing of the marriage as an end in itself rather puzzles me. Marriage as I understand it (which reminds me I want to write some exploration of what I actually think of the thing) seems rather for the benefit of the people involved; if they no longer wish to be married I do not see any point requiring they continue.

I suppose I can see that permanency may be important in a religious context, but that seems a matter for whatever people and / or deities may be involved. Hrm. Rather the same as I see it for secular contexts then.

It might be touching in the moment that a person pledge eir life with me, but after that moment it would mean rather significantly more to me to know that whoever I am with is choosing freely to be there and not out of some sense of obligation, and certainly not because ey is legally required. Similarly I would not pledge myself to someone for life because I cannot guarantee my future feelings and desires - the most I can in good faith say is that today I love em and today my desire is for a future together.

This does not mean I would not marry anyone, but I would feel vastly happier, safer, more comfortable knowing we could choose to part ways any time we chose.

I wanted to wear a skirt to class yesterday. I did not. Words kept me from it?

Not until I was actually on the grounds and heading to class did I realise "Because I want to" is a perfectly valid reason for a clothing choice. However, this does not quite solve my problem. I am concerned about a matter of 'best practice'.

Plainly, whether I would be better served by giving advance notice to the school and teachers. I suspect this is the case, but I do not know what to say. If I told them I ID as female that would not be a lie but nor would it be true and I do not feel able to say so, any more than I would be able to tell someone I am male.

I suppose I could inform them I am transgender, or genderqueer. They would likely make their own assumptions on that basis and whether they do or not it ought to be sufficient. Taking any label or name to myself makes me uncomfortable but since I believe I would likely receive a more favourable response by giving some sort of advance I will try to go ahead with it.

I have had similar issue with the idea of communicating with my (extended) family. Whether I tell them things or just show up, what do I say? What words do I use? Legally I am fine, I just do not know anything I could say with confidence to people and I think if I did it would go a long way to increasing the positivity of their responses. Especially since without preparation I would likely shut down under questioning, possibly melt down entirely.

It is hard to stand up for yourself when you do not know what you are standing up for.

Ghostly spirit,
moving on strange curves through unknown space.
Sometimes crossing sometimes passing,
sometimes sparking sometimes lighting.

* * *

Things unseen grow in
to branching crystal shapes.
They flower, blossom and bloom.
They flutter and fly.

Sometimes aided by
unexpected cross-time-wound
meetings passing by.

Thank you. =^.^=