It’s anniversary time again! Or how I bail the sea with teacups.

Yes, dear readers. Anniversary #2 is looming ever closer and I am, as usual, a complete fuckall mess. Barely coping. All of my nerves are on top of my skin. Everything feels like a cock up. I just put my head down and try to move somewhat forward. Even though I am obviously bailing the sea with teacups. There have been far too many changes this summer and this, as you know, just knocks me off kilter and makes me in general feel awful.

What is going right? Wee Geek has moved to San Diego and is doing really well. He’s in a therapeutic setting right now and this is great for him. He still struggles with the depression, but the sunshine is doing him lots of good and this makes me happy. Him too. I wish that he would have come home, but this is working, so I’m not going to fuck with it until it’s not working. Which is really hard. I don’t like him being so far from home. It’s not ideal for me. But it’s not about me.

We had a major shift in my day job. It is taking every ounce of self control that I have to stay planted in my seat because I am still kicking myself for leaving my last day job. At least financially. Atmosphere wise it was completely toxic and unhealthy for everyone. In that way I am completely glad to be out of that. It hasn’t changed much. But things would probably be drastically different if I was still there. But I don’t know. The powers that be really had issues with me and I think that would not have changed much. I don’t know how many of the issues were caused by my former boss, however.

So shift in day job. I’m having to take on a combined role. That I hate. And already, the plan for the combined role in theory is so that we can advocate for families better, but apparently I have already fucked that up. So a new rule has been added to my list.

  1. Stay in your cube.
  2. When in doubt, see Rule #1.
  3. Only advocate for families in theory. Actual practice of advocacy is frowned upon.

I get lots of flack at my day job. Because I don’t socialise. Because I’m not actually a people person. Because I just don’t quite fit (damn that autism puzzle piece thing). But these girls have a way of making me feel as if I am always wrong and shaming me for that not quite fit. I am always left with this idea that they are barely tolerating me. They are all buddies. I feel that gap. I truly do. And it’s not that I want this great friendship with my coworkers. I don’t. But I always have this third wheel feeling. Which most of the time, I ignore it. Other times it feels like a giant hole in the office. You know, the one where the air is heavy with some kind of tension that you are trying to interpret whether it’s real or imagined. I never know if it’s coming from me or them. And that is the hard part. This new role has me running in place trying to figure out what my job is. There is also this underlying hint of sarcasm about my participation in office “outings”. I go occasionally. More for them than me. But I go. And then I get comments about not having to participate. Sigh. Damned if I do. Damned if I don’t.

So. Anniversaries. Fix-it-guy will be gone 2 years tomorrow. We all have our coping mechanisms. I don’t know how healthy mine are, but I move forward. I spend more time crafting than normal lately. But I also have more shows than normal to get ready for. I spend more time binge watching tv. Prolly ┬ánot healthy, either. My friends check on me non stop during this week. I nod and pretend to be keeping my shit together when it really looks like scientist visiting week in the monkey cage. The house grows ever nearer to being in my name. Except this bit of things is moving more at the speed of evolution than in any reasonable time frame. I’m less in “burst into tears” mode than I was last year. But I still miss that big tall goofy guy like crazy.

What did coping look like this year? Bonus daughter #2 got engaged and is getting married in October. In Cancun. Bonus daughter #1 is crazy busy with her store. Me, I am still just dwaddling back here. A step sideways. A step backward. A step the other sideways. I feel like all I have done for 2 years is wait. Wait for lawyers. Wait for decisions by other people. Wait for something to happen or not happen. Wait. Wait. Wait. Fucking Wait. And let’s not forget the frustration. Jesus jumping crimany on a pogo stick has there been frustration. I think I’m ahead and I’m really in another state following a completely different set of instructions for assembling Ikea furniture when I’m really trying to set the time on the VCR.

And can we talk about that eclipse for a second. I had special goggles and a viewer box and was really excited for something different in my little mundane world in the darkness of this week from hell. Of course, I had to reprimanded for wasting too much time on it. I get so tired of other people micro managing my time. Jobs. Who needs them? This whole last 2 years has been like watching someone that looks like you win the lottery and take your dream vacation, while you are chained to a tree with a very short leash inside a doghouse with no windows.

I don’t know what this next year will bring. Pray for lots of Liverpool wins because that makes me crazy happy. Pray for things to start feeling a little more like I can breathe. I want to get the website back up and running. Get some sales. Get. Out. Of. This. Place. Whatever the fuck that looks like.

So, darling love of my life. While I feel like my heart weighs more than a herd of elephants and is threatening to break apart and wash me away in the flood of grief, I still love you more than all the fishies in the all the oceans. More than all the squids and octopussies in the sea. And more than all the sea monkeys, too. My life has a gigantic 6 foot 2 hole that no one can fill and I miss you like absolute crazy. Nothing is as good or fun without you. I cry every time I hear that song. And that one. And yes, that one, too. I want to have you back in the worst way.

Please Keep All Hands and Feet Inside While Others Decide Your Fate

So I sit and wait in an empty room with only my phone and a borrowed laptop without a power cord for company while the powers that be decide my fate. Let’s forget for one moment that I have Asperger’s and waiting with any degree of uncertainty is certainly much more exhausting and emotionally draining than any punishment they could dream up for me. Let’s forget that the great uncertainty is crippling to my poor fragile system. Let’s forget that I was only told half the story and was completely blind sided once more when I met with the powers that be (who by the way were somewhat apologetic and seemingly embarrassed about the entire thing as well as raised an eyebrow when they found out that I was not completely apprised of the situation). So I sit. It’s a make shift prison with the feeling of abandonment lurking in the corners. And curse karma for always kicking my ass when I feel like things are going well. I was very well reminded of the rule of 3 last night. You know, that crazy thing where you have 3 good things and then 3 bad things….wash, lather, repeat. I really feel like puking and that’s kinna taking over for some of the other senses that are supposed to be working but are not. It’s also keeping me from completely shutting down which I’m sure will actually be beneficial to me at some point. Because I feel like I’ve only had about 3 minutes sleep I’m an emotional train wreck hoping that I find a bridge that’s out so I can just crash and burn. The added bonus is that I can see that all the signs are connected to gigantic blinking red arrows that say “Point of no return. Abandon all hope those who enter here.” Once again I feel as if my only support system is in my phone. The ex-BB guy is less than useless in these situations and he usually says something stellarly stupid like “You need to stop letting this get you all worked up.” How he thinks that is helpful I have no idea at all. Other advice has been much more helpful. I think I did everything right. I listened, I nodded, I asked a few questions. I hope that I didn’t look guilty. I know that if you are neurotypical and you are reading this, you are prolly wondering how I would manage to look guilty if I wasn’t. Spectrum people have a hugely difficult time managing our facial expressions anyway. When you had a huge heaping cup of stress the entire operation goes amuck. Gotta love evolution. Added brain function, decreased ability to actually cope and function under stress. What demented super power is that? It’s technically not even helping me to blog about it except to recognise that I prolly do not have this particular talent in life. I have gotten pretty good at understanding my shortcomings over the years. I have even gotten pretty good at figuring out how to make my shortcomings look a little less like shortcomings. I have never really gotten good at fitting in or understanding the motivations of people. I’m definitely in Peter Gabriel’s “no man is an island” world today. It is very stressful. I wish I had more inner strength to draw on, but I used a great deal of that when all the stuff with Wee Geek was happening. So there are precious few reserves of that to draw upon when times get rough. I know that there are very few guarantees in life, but a few more warning lights would be helpful. And a Tardis. I could really use a Tardis.