It's been a while; Autism related entry

It's been a while since I've last updated my blog of an autism related issue. Some things came up and in order to move on I have to get them written out. I may have spoken a lot of this in past entries, but it is good to have a refresher once and a while. Since autism varies from person to person, I share from my personal experience. Some may relate and some may not.

Anyways my emotions are hot. I'm feeling in a panic over the feeling of having no one to talk to right now (at the time I am typing this) over what most would consider a minor issue. In order to understand the sense of panic I feel when something little comes up, imagine if you just suddenly got news that your best friend, mom, dad, or whoever means the most to you, has been in a car accident or had a heart attack and is in the hospital. You get the initial call that happened, but then are on nerves waiting for an update.

Let's say it's not possible for you to reach the hospital. There's no number to call, heck you don't even know where they went. You don't know anything besides those few details. Depending on how fatal the news sounded and how much the person meant to you, I can imagine you are pacing around, biting your nails, crying uncontrollably, whatever people do when they feel a sense of hopeless panic.

This is how I feel over minor problems. I have the same intensity of emotion, the panic, everything. Often I am told to be patient. If you're mother is dying in a hospital an you aren't aware of where she is, I would imagine being told to be patient would probably be one of the last things you want to be told.

When I am trying to describe to people this sense of panic I feel, I am often put down, or even worse made to feel like I am causing trouble. I can't help the sense of panic I feel. I acknowledge I can have control over what I do in the panic. After all anyone facing a situation like the one I described can control how they behave, but it is very...very difficult. The mind is not there. The heart is racing, the breaths are shallow and the eyes gushing with unwanted tears. It's really hard to control one's behavior at this point of stress.

I used to know one autistic man who must have felt this kind of panic when they changed his routine at a group home he lived. Either that or he had to move to a place where they couldn't keep up to his routine. He had to have a shower taken a certain day and time of the week. One week they couldn't do it at the right time. He had to have his shower taken another day. As a result he got terribly angry, upset, hurt, and violent. He broke at least one of their windows by smashing it. After all to him it had to have felt like his whole world crashed that day.

I'm not that severely upset when changes happen, but I will feel dismayed and feel like I've just been dropped off in the middle of nowhere, in a strange place and left to find my way home with no direction... Depending on my mood, this panic can create a full crying spell and a meltdown. I don't like surprises. Also if I am left without explanation for things, then I'm left confused. My mind doesn't take confusion well. If I don't have a solid explanation, my mind will go over past events that seem similar to the event I am in. It pairs up some usually really negative and disturbing incidents. Common feelings that will show up when I am in a mental state of confusion over an event: rejection, people are deliberately against me because I am a freak. They know it. They can tell. Even by one glance or by reading my written word, they know I'm not one of them. Those people know... they see through me. They have in the past. I've been rejected. My mind pulls up concrete memories to prove it. Therefore this situation is no different. I don't fit in. I never will fit in. I don't have a niche... The negative speech continues into some kind of mantra. There is no easy way to shut it off once it starts.

Usually when I try to explain this to people, or if I worse yet, react out of these emotions, it triggers anger. In turn when people snap about my reaction, then it feeds the feeling of "they don't like me because I am different." and then I react even more apprehensive. This kind of miscommunication keeps going until either I or the other person reaches breaking point and one of us ends up severing communication and possibly leaving the scene. On web forums, it may drive one of us to perminantly leave the site.

Why does this happen? I used to be left really confused until I heard from other people who studied the field of autism as well as reading up some articles. I found out that when an autistic person gets riled up by emotion, it floods the brain with more activity than it would for a non autistic person. I wish I could find the exact articles I read to link to, but if you look down meltdowns and autism, you may get a general idea. After all these emotions are likely the driving force behind most of the major meltdowns someone has with autism.

I hope this sheds light into some of the conflicts I get into, and hopefully help give some insight for those curious to know more about autism, emotions, and meltdowns. Anyways I feel a bit better getting this down. The sense of panic has lessened a bit.

Getting back on the treadmill

I've decided to give antidepressants another go. I've been coasting well without them for several months then bam....an emotional crisis comes and then I can't get myself out of it no matter what I do. I don't know how long it will last, but I've given it about a month to go away and it hasn't...

I really hate relying on meds with a passion. I believe they are bad for long-term health, don't like side effects, and just the general concept makes me cringe but.....

I can't live like this much longer, so a choice between risking my life or taking a med and dealing with the things I mentioned above, the med wins....

Emotional Crisis

I've been battling with an emotional crisis this last month and it's been really messing with my thinking and how I relate to people. To shorten it I feel like the world is against me and I've been reacting by animal like instinct rather than rational thought. Which of course triggers anger and other people's reactions, which feeds the feeling I have of people being against me. Which of course angers people even more...It's a vicious circle.

This leads me to a question how one can tell the difference between someone who truly believes everyone is against them from someone who is going through a relapsing bout of depression? If I were to take a stab at an answer, I would think that someone truly believing would feel more confident, where as someone influenced by depression is in inner turmoil, knowing it isn't true but can't fight it off. Also, at least with myself, it seems to come with plenty of tears and no shut-off valve. It seems one warning sign is if I go through at least a couple days where I can't stay awake and feel so drained. I've been having plenty of that this spring and it sucks, because this is when I usually am in a lot more cheerful disposition and getting the spring planting going. Not this year....

But it's odd though, when I'm depressed, I don't always feel depressed. I can be cheery and even feel naturally "high" at times, but then at some point sink back down into the same uncontrollable thought patterns.

This is a poem that I wrote while feeling about the worst of it. It's unpolished because it was written with my keyboard keys wet with freshly fallen tears. I'm just trying to cope with it the best I can.

Loneliness and despair
Sinking like a black hole
No light can reach.
All hope pales
In the black smoke of hopelessness
No thought can pull
One out of the pit.
It sinks deeper
With each tear.
Drips salty sting down
One’s cheek.
The taste deceivingly warm,
Everyone out there is a ghost
Incapable of understanding
How deep the hole is.
How much it hurts.
They don’t taste
The same tears of despair.
I can’t touch them.
They are too distant.
Far away from reach.

I seek closeness.
Warmth.
Someone who can say
They understand. Take my hand
Lead me through this pain
Show me I’m not alone.
But this warmth doesn’t last.
The darkness pulls it away.
I’m left with myself
And this black hole of despair.

Of Flower Petals And Memories

Some people may remember this on my Talentdatabase profile. This time I'm using the picture that inspired the story. Sometimes I write a scene first and then get an image or a scene and sometimes I will draw a picture and it turns into a scene which I have the option of writing down and recording. When I wrote the story, I felt it would make a good piece for Memorial Day. I wanted to hold onto it until that day arrived, but didn't wait. This year I have my chance. Like with all my writing, my characters, artwork, story, etc belong to me. I am very possessive of my creations, so please don't upload my stuff anywhere or alter any part of my work. I am trusting people here to not steal my stuff.

------------------------------

Background:

1. Marffey (Antfolk) is the one narrating the story. He is a young child approx. age 5 or 6. Children his age need an adult worker to mentor them. They seem to call such mentors/guides "caregivers". Children without an adult guide/mentor don't survive very well. There are too many predators out and it's just a rough world for them...

2. Humpuly (BeetleFolk) is Marffey's best friend. He is an older child, but highly intelligent for his age. He takes Marffey off on trips to places like the Human City. Benly and Humpuly don't really get along with each other (to put it nicely), at least not early in the series... He tries to avoid Benly most of the time unless a confrontation occurs. If a confrontation between Benly and Humpuly occurs, you can be sure Humpuly will most often get the upper hand. Humpuly is not really in this particular story.

3. Benly (Antfolk) is an older adult (approx. early 50's). He served several years in the colony's army and held a lot of responsibility. Benly has fought several battles against the enemy Fire Ants. In this small story he recently re-enlisted in the army after being discharged for medical reasons (suffered a near fatal injury which they didn't know if he would survive.) He's trying to get back on his feet (claws), find himself, and see what he is to do now. If I were to take a guess, I believe he sufferers emotional scars along with his physical ones.

After Humpuly dropped me off, he escaped quickly into the grass. Meanwhile I went off to find Benly. When I found him he was at the gravesite holding some flowers in his lower hands. The flowers had only a few petals left. The rest of the petals spiraled into the air as Benly opened his upper hands to release the broken flower petals. I stood beside Benly, but he seemed to be too absorbed with what he was doing to notice me. He babbled softly in a weak whisper with words I could not understand. Benly’s face showed deep sadness. He spoke softly to himself while looking up at the sky, “Why am I here? Why did I survive when—?”


“Whatcha doing?” I asked interrupting Benly from whatever he was about to say. Meanwhile I picked up a clump of fallen flower petals and threw them up in the air for the wind to carry away. Benly raised his antennae and looked at me. He still looked sad, but I could see he was cheering up a little. He sat down on the ground and held a bare flower stem in his hands. He fiddled with it until I crawled into his lap.


“I’m just remembering my dear friends,” spoke Benly in a soft voice.


“What do you mean?” I asked while looking around, “I don’t see them.” Benly lowered his antennae. He whispered into my antennae, “That’s why I’m remembering them. They are somewhere else now and hopefully happier.” “If you’re friends are happier, then why are you so sad?” I asked. Benly shook his head and chuckled dryly.


“You are something Marffey,” Benly chuckled while reaching out to stroke my antennae, “I admire your innocence.” As I sat in Benly’s lap, I couldn’t help but notice the huge scar on his chest, the upper part of his thorax. It looked like a deep pit on his thorax where the chitin had cracked.

“What happened to your thorax?” I asked. “That is where I got stabbed,” answered Benly. He took a deep breath and corrected himself, “Actually it was the back of my thorax where the enemy stabbed me with a spear. The blade went through my heart tube and punctured my thorax. If the blade had severed my nerve cord, then I wouldn’t be here either.” Curiosity struck me. I wanted to see how deep Benly’s wounds went into his body.


“Can I touch it?” I asked.


“Go ahead,” spoke Benly while bobbing his antennae, “Most of it has healed over. There’s a new layer of chitin that’s formed where there was a hole.” I reached out and poked my fingers into Benly’s wound on the front of his thorax. It wasn’t as deep as I thought. The tip of my littlest finger fit into it but nothing more. “The back is where it gets deeper,” spoke Benly.

As I moved to reach Benly’s back, he bent down low to the ground. After boosting me onto his thorax, Benly spoke, “Be very careful. I doubt it will hurt any more, but it used to be very painful.” I poked ever so softly at the crack in Benly’s thorax. Benly didn’t flinch or anything so it must not have hurt like he said.


“Does this hurt?” I asked. Benly shook his head and smiled.


“Nope, it’s healed over quite well. Just looks bad, but I can live with that.” Benly looked more serious as he spoke to himself, “Only thing I can think is the Creator wanted me to live. Other than that, I can’t think how I managed to avoid being stuck in the ground feeding plants.”


“What do you mean?” I asked. Benly let me down, stood up, took a deep breath and spoke, “That’s what happens to every one of us eventually, but if we’ve been deserving, then the Creator lets us live on in the Afterlife.” Benly bobbed his antennae slowly and turned to me with a smile, “In the mean time let’s enjoy every moment we have together.”

I climbed up Benly’s leg, thorax, and head. Benly looked up and asked, “You’re not going to try to sit on my snout again are you?”


“Why not?” I asked. Benly made a snort and hissed through the spiracles on his abdomen. He rolled his eyes and raised an antenna. Though he tried to look stern, Benly could not hide the grin on his face.


“Because it does not make a good chair,” answered Benly. I crawled over and sat squarely on the middle of Benly’s snout.


“Yes it does,” I answered.


“No it doesn’t,” protested Benly, “Get off I can’t see.”


“Can you fling me in the air and catch me in your arms like you did last time?” I asked.


“Very well,” answered Benly with a sigh, “But don’t make a habit of it.” Benly lowered his head and thrust it upward. “Up and away you go,” spoke Benly in a cheerful voice.


“Wheeee!” I exclaimed as I flew into the air. Benly caught me in his arms.


“Do it again!” I said. Benly chuckled and shook his head.


“No we only sit on Benly’s snout one time,” said Benly with a smile. Benly’s deep blue-gray eyes fixated on me. He seemed to be absorbed in deep thought. Benly looked up at the sky and whispered, “Thank you, I think I know why I am here now.”


“To let me sit on your snout,” I teased. Benly turned to me, thumped me with his antennae and chuckled, “No. That’s not what I am talking about.” Benly set me down on a leaf so he could face me at eye level. He bobbed his antennae and finished, “I am responsible for you, Marffey until you grow up.”


“I thought you said you don’t want to be my caregiver,” I said. Benly took a deep breath and spoke, “Yes I said that, but I see no better choice. It would be a terrible mistake for me to not be your guide. I love you Marffey, and I will to do whatever it takes to make sure you have a good life.”


“You promise?” I asked. Benly nodded.


“Yes with all my heart tube, I promise,” answered Benly.

© 2009 MJI (All Rights Reserved) Edit: Fixed a few minor things, most important being the background info on Benly. It's been a while since I last looked at my drafts . I forgot he was in the army in the story, but he's serving as a guard. Where this leads into Benly is missing his old position, but he is not sure if he is fit enough to do it, both physically and emotionally.
I gave Marffey and Humpuly a bit more info. I also tried to fix the format. I can’t seem to get the paragraphs to transfer from MS word.I'm aware this particular short story needs revision, but I still am satisfied with many of the things with it.

Finally an update

I've been meaning to update my blog with something, but it seems when I come up with ideas to write, it always seems to be at a time I have my computer off and am either trying to sleep or am busy with something. Needless to say, I've been letting a lot of ideas go without getting them written down. To capture a thought is sort of like trying to catch a butterfly. If you can catch it and get it written down, then it is there. But if you let it pass through without recoding it, then it goes away. Sometimes thoughts will return and sometimes not.

I've been kind of darting around a few places on the net. Sadly it seems talentdatabase is no more. :( They got some kind of problem they claim to fix "soon", but after giving them at least three months to settle whatever it is, I'm not holding my breath any longer... So I will be moving a few of my favorite stories from there to here. I have something planned for Memorial day to upload next. But right now I've got this:

T-Shirts! Yes you can have your very own T-shirts with my designs. I'm in process of adding products and making my designs look their best. Really I should get a paid account with cafepress, but I want to be guaranteed I will at least break even with sales before sinking money in.
That said I have a personal dilemma. I want to buy my own "Thorn bug" shirt but there are too many choices. I'll try to narrow it down to my favorites and update as soon as I get the shop set up.

As far as the "Messor" goes I think I've settled on this shirt (the tanish-green one).

I've also been wasting time making little clicky graphics, which seem to be surprisingly difficult to paste on blogger. Perhaps I'm too tired.