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~metaphorically~ is one of those posts I never really expected to see hit much. Some of my posts still only get 30 views in a week, or even a month. That one is lengthy and specifically targets social interaction from my point of view with Asperger's. It's enough that I struggle with other problems, which bore me to tears to write about most of the time, so I try very hard to keep myself focused on distraction. Once in awhile a depression-type post breaks through, and more rarely, a crabby dump post. I don't expect people to read my crap. My emotional junk is a real blight on this world if I don't strictly monitor it, and my bristling reactions to innocents get ridiculously stupid in a next morning walk of shame kind of way.
It seems a few of you coming across Pinky blog like being able to see what the world looks like from aspienado's point of view. In short, you all suck and I hate you, but you're all awesome and I love you more than bunnies and kitties. Yeah, it's a little odd in here. I make bipolar people look pretty normal, because I'm able to smash the extremes together into one big thing at the same time. I'm able to comfortably hold several conflicting views at once while I go about my day, and I can carry on more empathetic discussions about the kinds of cruelty that wilt TV viewers who really believe the crap about murder being what robs your soul of its innocence than about how was your day kind of stuff. Once you kill someone (or something), you can never go back, right? They made huge deals about it in the Xena ep Blood Innocence, and I've since heard this 'belief' in many other shows. I think it's stupid because true innocence is already lost to us when we strip other souls of their joy with our stupid mean words. Plenty of emotional murder is committed right and left with a few word stabs. You don't have to murder someone to ruin their day or their life.
I have grappled all my life with being nice. I live a duality on social media where everyone tells me how nice I am because they have no clue how mean I really am. I'm not mean because I enjoy it, I'm mean because I was born mean. When someone is mean, they inflict without remorse. Many people have suffered me inflicting beyond endurance. I finally learned remorse in 2007.
This is what Pinky blog is all about. In order to survive the lights coming on after years and years of emotional shutdown, I blew myself apart into pieces all over the internet, delegating this thought chore to one blog and that thought chore to another blog and so on, working slowly and meticulously (like an aspie) through decades of puzzles I'd shoved aside so I wouldn't have to deal with them. That gave me a way to look at the bits and pieces over time before I started emotional reconstruction over here on Pinky blog. I had no idea that's what I was doing.
I first revealed my Asperger's diagnosis in 2008. I jumped in and out of spoonie reveals until I committed to a spoonie blog in 2011. In 2012 I started pulling all my stuff together into a final reveal, and Pinky blog is the most open and personal I've ever been in my whole life. Except I've been learning not to dump my crap so much. That's kinda why ~metaphorically~ surprised me, it's one of my crap dumping posts. There's really no point to it except to admit I'm a turd and I hurt people. I see myself still hurting feelings out there and I just can't keep playing along and saying it's all cool when I'm having such hard days and it's not cool at all from my point of view. Doesn't mean anyone's bad or doing it wrong, it just means when I go down on epic fail days, I really don't wanna take you guys with me.
Lately, as I'm hitting higher and longer energy days and my brain lets me actually get rough and use it harder now, I'm hitting new kinds of shutdown/meltdown walls when my brain yanks the plugs back out and screams
I've been told throughout both my childhood and adulthood by a few people not to be so hateful. What does that even mean? I can see other people all around me being hateful, and no one telling them not to be. What is the difference between me being hateful and other people being hateful? Why do some people feel compelled to point out to me how I'm behaving and/or even walk away from me forever while they pat other hateful people on their heads and go have lunch with them?
The difference is that other people generally have another layer underneath their hostile dumpisodes, and I don't. They snap out of it, I don't. They process and move on, I don't. If I'm being hateful, I actually mean it, never realizing I'm sending waves of nuclear melt through other people's souls until they just can't take me any more. I don't mean the kind of yelling and ranting that you imagine, but the one line remarks here and there that make Darth Vadar look like he at least owns a few kitty cats. I'm able to say things in such a way that people not only believe but feel the venom, even if I don't know I'm exuding it. It's not so much that I'm toxic, but that I'm utterly truthful without the cushion of kindness. Kindness is something I've spent many years learning.
Nowadays there are all kinds of ways to cute it up. Thanks to memes and crack!vids and fandom smashing and allthefeels and yes, even lolcats, I am able to put cushioning in what otherwise seem like hard, unforgiving, on the edge of ranty posts. I still wrestle with how to express my thoughts in nicer ways, and those definitely help.
This is a big deal because I had no idea what I looked and sounded like for a very long time until I learned how to step out and see myself. Part of seeing outside myself is seeing through other people's eyes on youtube, why this music is matched with that character in this situation or this intent, etc., or rereading something I wrote 5 years ago and wondering how I myself missed what I was conveying, because I can see it so differently now. Interacting with people through a keyboard does NOT help me see myself. If anything, it actually makes it worse. I can't keep up the energy that goes into pretending I can follow and carry a convo, and it doesn't take long until someone has a problem with me not interacting right. And I really don't, there's no helping it.
I try the patience of saints. Actually, very few saints tolerate me for very long at all, they're usually the first to scatter. I attract the fringes, full of weird and baditude and miscreant humor, and as people like that usually tolerate me longer, I probably wind up looking like that's what I prefer, and let's just stop this paragraph before aspienado goes into analysis.
Anyway, I'm just surprised. I can take you guys into some neat places in my head, I can bore you half to death with dumb obsessions, but one thing I'll never do is join the chant rants taking sides on politics and religion and sports and fandoms and whatevs, because I know I have the skillz to instigate to riot and wielding that kind of power for fun and sport isn't cool, plus way too many people are doing it. Pinky does not approve. So I quietly put my life on the internet and drag a few readers around with me through everything I do, instead.
Aspienado wants to break the world. Pinky wants nachos. Guess which one wins right now.