To A Less Lonely Christmas This Year—a Holiday Note



My little Santa Baby

To all my friends old and new'

Before I embark on wrapping the rest of the gifts and baking the Christmas cookies, I wanted to say Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a very Blessed New Year to every single one of my new friends.

I will be baking Grandma’s Christmas Cookies probably for the rest of the day, after I take my final exam for an IT class I am taking this semester (who puts finals the day before Christmas Eve??). The whole family, kids included, will be helping to mix batter, place chocolate chips, and sprinkle powdered sugar. This is something we do every year on Thanksgiving and Christmas because these cookies are ONLY made on two occasions—Grandma only made them for those two holidays, and my Aspie-self ONLY makes them two times a year. They are our holiday cookies and no-one can have any for the rest of the year so making cookies (and eating them) is a big holiday tradition in our house.

I wish I could share them with all of you because you have all made the holidays this year a little less lonely. You have all, with your love and understanding; made my world so much larger than I ever thought it could be.  I am less lonely because I have people whom I can talk with and share my crazy thoughts with who truly understand me.

Yesterday while finishing up my Christmas shopping madness, in Wally World (Wal-Mart), I glanced down at my phone to find messages from quite literally all over the globe. My new friends were sailing in South Africa, playing in the snow in England, writing short stories down in Australia, and fighting the Christmas traffic in NYC—and sharing a small part of their lives with me. It was a unique and awesome feeling to finally feel connected to other people in the world—THANK YOU.

I will be thinking about all of you this holiday season, hoping for the best, happiest and safest days to come for you all.  My heart and prayers will also be with those in Connecticut who lost their precious little ones, each day they are one of the first things on my mind. I undoubtedly will have those families in my heart and on my mind while I hold my little guys and watch them enjoy Christmas morning.

Reach out to those you can help, hold on to those who are close, and pray for those who you cannot reach out and touch.

With Love and Blessings this Holiday Season,

Jeannie

~Aspie Writer

Lifting the Cloud of Loneliness: Anger and Writing

Writing Helps Lift the Clouds

How my anger has helped...

I’ve noticed that I have a limited range of intense emotions. An over-simplification would be to stay that I feel happy, sad, or angry. Anger is usually my ruling emotion.  What I believe is happening, is that life’s complex emotions are not processing as others would expect. When I cannot express them, it results in feelings of anger.

Frustration = Anger
Sorrow = Anger
Despair = Anger
Discouragement = Anger
Injustice = Anger
Hurt = Anger
Loneliness = Anger

Do you see a pattern here?  Lately, I've been evaluating what is making me so angry all the time. My answer: feeling lonely and helpless.

Being lonely has been a defining factor of my life.  I can’t recall a time—ever, when I didn’t feel alone, even surrounded by a crowd of people.  Or, especially surrounded by a crowd of people.
This lead to constant destructive thinking. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I just be happy? It has been something I could not wrap my head around to understand.

In a crowd of people, no-one understood me, no-one really knew me, or what went on inside my head.  Oh, they thought they knew me, but they did not.

When I tried to share my feelings, no-one understood.  Some of the most hurtful and damaging things that have been said to me came from “friends.”  These “friend's” words stuck with me, so I learned to stop sharing my feelings.

Being constantly overloaded by the children’s noise levels, does not mean I don’t love them, or that I should not have anymore children! Feeling overwhelmed, depressed, and in despair does not mean that I don’t want to be a mother anymore! And damn it, if I could just “pick myself up by my boot straps” and “snap out of it,” don’t you think I would have?

Yes—all of these things and worse have been said to me by “friends.” Could this be why I now don’t have any?

I spent a lifetime blaming myself for not being understood, or feeling guilty and feeling like I was a horrible person because “people would love to have my life.”—more garbage spewed at me, which only increased the isolation and loneliness, and fed my self-loathing.

ANGER, ANGER, ANGER, AND MORE ANGER—USING WORDS TO FEEL LESS HELPLESS

Being undiagnosed for many years, and misdiagnosed for many more, I had no way of understanding myself.  No-way to answer the question, why? Life was hopeless, I was helpless, and I AM angry!
Yesterday’s anger at the doctor’s office fueled my determination to “do something” about it. But—what can I really do?  Write.

In the short time I have been here writing online, I have felt empowered. If I can do nothing else to fight the injustice, or get out of my circumstance, I can write about it. Maybe even write big warts onto my enemies noses and kill off the characters in my stories.

I didn’t realize at the time that feeling a little less helpless, made me feel a little less depressed.  Nor did I realized that being surrounded by a crowd of people is not want I needed. All I need is to be surrounded by a few who understand me, agrees with me, or just says, “hey, you’re not alone.”  Just a few simple words can begin to life that cloud of loneliness.  It amazes me how much a different in a day a few comments, or a few kind words from strangers (now my virtual friends) can make and how uncaring callous words from loved ones can slice  your flesh so deeply that scars can be seen for a lifetime.

Why in the world do we teach our children that,

“Sticks and stones can break my bones,

But names will never hurt me?”

Baloney! This is a big fat lie. I cannot remember the pain of broken childhood bones, but those hurtful words…they are still painful thirty years later.

Words are powerful! They empower us, built us up, or completely tear us down!

I hate being angry all the time, and I am working on that.  But, this time at least I am glad that I was angry enough to rant about it, and you all were kind enough to listen.  It has made a world of a difference.

An Aspie's Lonesome Reflection: Keeping Others at Arm's Reach

 Why can't I let anyone in?

I keep so much of myself guarded. I do not share my life with people, not anything that is personal to me anyway. And when I say personal, I mean I don't tell anyone I am working on a Bachelor's Degree in English. No-one except my immediate family knows that I attend school. I did not even tell my brothers, my father, or any of my childhood "friends."

I don't have any "adulthood" friends. I have not made, cultivated or kept any friends during my entire adult life. Oh I've made "friends" but only for a time, and they were not really more than distant acquaintances. I never really shared anything of myself with them. I never did understand people who felt the need to share way too much information with complete strangers. Actually it drives me crazy and makes me incredibly uncomfortable. (Maybe that is why interaction with my "virtual" friends is easier.)

People make me uncomfortable

If I meet someone who is trying to become "friends" with me, I am immediately turned off when they feel the need to tell me every intimate detail of their lives, their friends’ lives, and the whole neighborhood's gossip. That is a sure-fire way to get me to completely avoid you. Do they not realize I hadn't shared anything with them? I didn't tell them I had Autism, or that I am a college student (in my late 30's), or that I home school my oldest Aspie son, or that I am a writer. Essentially, they know nothing about me.

I wonder what expressions I wear on my face. I may need someone to follow me around with a camera or something because it seems no matter where I go perfect strangers feel the need to tell me their life stories (and much of the details they really should have kept to themselves--dear God--a little modesty please). I find it hilarious because I am probably the last person on earth that gives a rat's ass!

This stuff doesn't happen to my husband. Strangers never tell them their deep dark secrets and intimate escapes while standing in the supermarket line! Do I have a sign on my head that says "Tell me everything; I have no friends to repeat it to anyway"? There must be something.

Why do I guard my own "secrets" so fiercely?

The answer: I really do not know. I am still trying to understand myself. Maybe it is the life filled of ridicule, guilt and scorn that comes with growing up with undiagnosed Autism.

Why do I almost feel embarrassed of what most would call accomplishments? I watch friends on Facebook brag about completing degrees and furthering their education--I hide mine.

Others do not consider livelihood or aspirations too personal to share--why do I?

I never tell family or friends that I write children's articles, short stories, have completed a novel, am in the middle of writing a memoir, or that I publish a blog. I keep everything tucked in tightly. I've actually considered publishing my work using a pseudo-name so no-one would know it was me.

Have I spent so much of my life hiding my deficits, my inadequacies, and my failures, that I now also hide my successes?

Although I have come a long way, I still have a long road to travel on my way to self-discovery, understanding and acceptance.

To date I have only shared my blog with one other person (besides hubby) that I know in "real life." For me that was progress because sharing with others gives me panic attacks. I have been thinking about being brave and letting a few others "in" here and there, which is what spurred this reflection and unfocused rambling post.

I feel alone most of the time and I don't want to feel that way, and always feel like I have no-one to talk to...so maybe it's time for a change. Baby steps--I'll invite one person I know and test the waters, and maybe just maybe if it goes well, I’ll be brave enough to share more of me--maybe.

A note to all my newly found “virtual” friends—you have all helped me in more ways than I can say. You’ve let me know I am not alone in this world; you share my struggles and share of yourselves. This has helped me to open up more and feel less isolated, and I just wanted to say Thank You.