So- when are you going to start standing up for yourself and saying no? Every time I promise myself I will take care of myself, and then I don't, I betray myself. I do this every day. Everyday I experience betrayal. What is that doing to my self esteem? Why would I let myself down? How do I elevate my personhood to the status of people that I love and to whom I would try very hard to honor... certainly not betray. Right?

life as it is...

 Alrighty then… Sitting in the sun trying to get a sense of peace. Quiet down. Slip into a mindset of “retreat”. Have the house to myself until late Sunday afternoon. Awesome. Breathe. Feel the warmth of the sun. Cat on my lap. Fishermen in the stream below. A little boy in the mix. He catches a small fish. Joy!

Anyhow, its almost June. I’m still overweight, and I still feel stressed and as though I have too much to do. I’m still addicted to distraction, emotional angst, ice cream, cookies, cake w/ butter cream frosting and of course, marijuana.

Sigh.

There are good things too. I feel good w/ PT these days. Mostly. Mostly I feel tolerant and to be fair, I experience him as being intentionally more present. I appreciate it. Still, lets not ignore the truth. Its hard emotionally. Really. Listen, I feel compelled to make a point to you my readers, you, my muse. I’m not being a baby about this! I’m choosing to be here for now, and most days are tolerable because I’m making peace with life as it is, not as I desire it. Equanimity, perspective taking, love and peace etc. I get it and still the truth is: PT’s a difficult man to live with and for whatever reason, I am still ill-at-ease. I know I’m compromising my values. I’m compromising my desires. For what? So I won’t be alone? Its also true that I love these people. I think they love me too. But what to do? I could go on. Get a gypsy van and hit the road. Waitress. Find a job. Talk to people. Maybe make love with a sweet man yet again before I die. I think I really want to be back in the desert with the sky and the sun and the mountains. Or at least more accessible to serenity, and nature and quiet people who eat little and drink less. I would like to be able to meditate more. What about downstairs? Would PT accommodate me? I feel as though I have little control over my environment and its stressful.

 

So, the deal is this – the game is up. Brain science now confirms the merits of meditation, not because it brings us to a holier place, but because for real, it is the ticket out of addiction and depression and into a general calm state of contentment and happiness. That’s good news. The trick now is to cultivate, create, manifest the life I want to be in. I’m not sure its compatible with living w/ PT. That’s the conundrum. So… yeah. Like can he move down stairs? Computer and ping pong? Me and meditation and painting? Probably easier for me. Plus I can also come up to use the treadmill, right? Right? So… I don’t know. It appeals to me. Little patio garden, etc…. A hot plate for coffee. Meditation cushion. Quiet.

Or do I just move out. Isn’t that a better option? Maybe his children will move in with him. I can get in my gypsy van and be on my way. Find a community. Get a little work, some food and be on my way. Learn to barter. Stop eating. Stop smoking weed? Yikes. Every time I say that I panic. I’m really hooked on weed. Why? It only makes me sleepy. I like to smoke. I like the smell of the herb. I like to get high. I don’t like to get tired. I like the way it makes me take time out. Maybe if I took time out, as a matter of course, like say… during meditation, I wouldn’t need the herb?

So, I dunno. I guess I’m having an existential crisis about my self identity if I’m not holy. I mean, “spiritual”. I think lately too, a bout death and dying. I’d like to go to Italy. I’d like to live in a Mediterranean place. Where? I look forward to having a pension and living in my gypsy van.

What would I do if this was my place and I wanted to travel? I’d make it an attractive place to stay. I’d fix up what I could. I’d rent out space so I had an income and then I could zip off to be a nomad. A spiritual-nomad. I’d go back to the southwest. I’d go to Cerrillos. Or maybe Urique in the Barranca del Cobre. The beaches in Baja too. Is it safe? I just feel the pull of the wanderer. Go pick up dad and wander. He’s got a pension. I can make money. We can drift around. I wonder if PT would want to wander? I doubt it. Could I go and come back? What kind of relationship do we have? How much does he need to live here? Just calculated. He can do it for $1400, especially if the kids come home and chip in. They can all make it here. It’s an interesting proposition to propose to PT.

Joy is as joy does

"Perhaps surprisingly, another important aspect of equanimity is joy. Recognizing the joy of equanimity goes across the common view that equanimity is dry, unemotional, and somewhat aloof. For the Buddha, however, mature equanimity is linked with a deep and sometimes subtle joy and happiness, characteristic of a (relative) freedom of mind and heart. Joy naturally arises, the Buddha tells us, when we no longer are hooked by what is agreeable or disagreeable in experience. As we work through our attachments and aversions, we become more and more "purified and bright, malleable, wieldy, and radiant," "peaceful" and "sublime."

Recognition

Mary Mary, quite contrary, how DOES that garden grow?
Look, look and you will see
all the little posies, sitting in a row.
Sitting, sitting in a row. Little posies, sitting in a row.
Waiting.
Waiting while they sit. All the little posies, sitting in a row.
Quietly.
Not contrarily.

My world is set up and waiting.  Watching. I am what they call hyper-vigilant. I have to be. I live in the shadows of a chaotic world. Confusion, noise, clutter, activity. Random rants, random tirades. I never know when I'll be summoned to silence a noisy dog or find a missing something. Called to account for a misplaced piece of trash, a random leftover, a fork not properly washed. Blasted out of contemplation by a  clip from some movie or lecture. A blast of symphony or electric guitar, accompanied by a flame of well enunciated profanity.

I look around and always there is something waiting for me to get to it. A dream, a wish, but nothing going forward. My easel sits in the corner that is invitingly arranged, but never actually used. Begay's horses hang there in their frames, but are never actually viewed. The books line up but are seldom opened, the loom is dressed, but has no where to go. I am waiting to be noticed, appreciated, remarked upon, loved. Deep depression wraps her heavy shawl around my heart and moves me from one activity to another barely pausing long enough to regroup replan, refresh, restore.

Humans need it. I need it. I need to feel like I have a place where I can go and be alone. A place where I can rest deeply and restore my vision, my will, my self esteem, my connection with self, my connection with god.

Recently, I have noted that I am lost. Truly. I have been observing myself behaving in a confused manner. My thinking is not crisp, I do not have a vision or even the ability to imagine. I am tired. I want to hibernate. I feel as though the winter has slid right by me and I never got to take a nap.

And then I begin to imagine fleeing.  Fantasy's of flight take over and I can no longer see myself here. This past week I applied for a job in New Mexico. I dream of open skies, wide spaces and the sound of silence. Of peace. I have also been reading classifieds for rentals and basically looking for the out.

I find myself dreaming of an rv on a piece of land.
And then, as the universe will often do, a van, an old hippy van appears to me on a drive to Augusta recently. Its a fantastic funky old hippy van... a 1974 ford set up as an rv - a camper. Hello, Baby! Only she's missing her roof. Caved in during a big snowstorm. Ouch. The Van Man says he wants to get a grand. Not bad... really. Though I wonder how much the roof will cost to repair? I wonder who could pop a salvage on top? Maybe a fiberglass repair? I need more input, help with information in order to make a decision.

Ironically, after a long talk yesterday morning I feel that PT and I are in synch again. I've been here before. I have. It is always nice and gives me hope that we can find a joyful partnership in our union. But I'm hot on this van too. I want her. My gypsy spirit is screaming to me!!! YES! YES! YES! My heart beats more quickly, I feel less burdened, less trapped. Experiencing that sense of relief, sense of happiness, sense of excitement  -I am inclined to believe that I need to pay attention!

 So, my thinking right now is to just be with this decision. I can advocate for myself that I need to have my own room and also I need to feel like I'm not trapped. That I have somewhere to go and if I have to leave this home, that I have some security about being able to provide myself and my animals with shelter and mobility. So, I'm going to get this old hippy mobile.... Wheee!!

Recreating family of origin dynamics

Is it preservation of sanity or is it insanity?
I'm in a high state of anxiety. Functioning, but distracted regularly and easily.
I'm afraid to face the truth. I'm afraid to be wrong.

I'm wrangling with my thoughts about my beloved PT. Sometimes I like him very much. I enjoy his attentiveness, his sensibilities, his whimsy, his friendship. However, more typically I find him disagreeable. I find him self-centered and irritable. Harsh, intolerant. Long winded. This is mostly when he's drunk, though, sadly, not exclusively. He is easily triggered, and the events are not always predictable. Its hard to tell what will set him off,  -a look, a sense of exasperation, a perception, an irritation. These behaviors are really hard to live with. Its painful knowing there is no rational resolution. Nothing to ease the situation except to ignore it, wait it out. Wait for morning when all is forgotten.  I hate pretending everything is ok when it is not. I hate to be silenced as a self-protection strategy.

I don't want to make anyone wrong. Not really. I just want to know what to do. I want to be truthful. I want to make things right. I want to understand. I want to feel loved. I want to be love. I want to feel peace.  I am taking a sober look at the idea that I'm not a good fit for this lifestyle. I keep coming back to this idea that I need to be somewhere more in line with my core values, somewhere that feels more comfortable and less anxiety provoking.

I also worry that its me who is living out some sort of neurosis and just projecting it onto PT. OMG..! What if that is the case? What if its my own mental health issues that are keeping me in such a high state of anxiety? I don't want to abandon love if its just me who is playing out some sort of relationship sabotage due to trauma or fear.  I dunno. There's stuff in my court, for sure. But, damn. PT has some deep issues. He's so freaky sometimes. The aspergers issue is huge. I'm sure he's on that spectrum. He is so normal in so many realms. But this area of connecting, or acting kindly... he just seems so out of touch with reality on a regular basis.  When he is in a certain brain space, what I've come to think of as the aspergers spectrum, he acts as if he is incapable of connecting. Its as though his brain wires misfire. He's an alien lashing out. I've got to stop kidding myself. Wishing. I've got to stop this wishful, magical thinking. He is not going to change. Its not just me. He treats everyone the same way. Its maddening to those who love him. Its maddening to me. I know I have to decide. The indecision is creating so much anxiety for me. I have choices, but which one is the best one?

Choice # 1: Stay and know that it will be a lonely existence in terms of not receiving affection, attention, care, nurturing, interest -those things that make us feel seen and valued in the eyes of our fellow community members. These are the gifts of humanity that feed us, keep us emotionally healthy. It's part of our healthy nuero-biological wiring. I know this. I see it.

Choice # 2: Move on.  Scary! But, today, like many days I feel weary of the constant hostility, and/or neglect. I don't feel motivated to stick it out because there is no reciprocity. My mind constantly tells me that I'm not thought of as family, so why should I stay?  I'm mindful of what I just wrote... "my mind tells me". What I mean is that I'm aware that I'm listening to myself and that myself, my brain is influenced by damaged interpretations; left over wounds from a childhood of feeling emotionally abandoned. I'm aware that its wise not to believe everything I think. And yet, I also feel confident that I'm trying to be objective; trying to observe what happens between us; trying to understand my own role. In my objectivity I can identify my triggers, my emotional reactions, my listening, my trying to understand, and my irrationality. I feel like most of the time I can see what's going on and it shows a frightened, protective man who activates a fiery fighting defense intended, however subconsciously, to frighten others into backing off. And so, I think I have to go.

And thus, choice # 3 emerges. As I stand in my place trying to make sense of the events that fall out around me, everything I know about human dynamics and spiritual wisdom blazes in front of me. In the course of being called to be present, alert, honest PT falls apart. He seems incapable of standing in his warrior strength, in his place of compassion, of kindness. In my observations I see a man who struggles to understand what the hell I'm talking about. I see a man who is habitually cruel and takes pleasure in hurling painful emotional spears. I see a man completely detached from what is really going on in the moment. I see a man who when presented with truth in the moment dissociates and hides his head under blankets and cowers like the abused man that he is. He comes across as a frightened child and its as though his mind is being beaten into hiding. I see all of these things and my deeper, wiser soul says that I should stay and protect him. Offer him the detached love that he needs, manage the household selflessly and move into the solitude that awaits me, someday, anyhow. The wiser soul says stay and forgive. Dwell in the beauty of the home, of the land, of the non-attachment that comes from being a room- mate rather than someone who is maturely loved.  I think of all of these things and remind myself that even the aspies can love. "Take the higher road," I say to myself. Hold this truth in your heart and feel the truth about PT and others on the aspergers spectrum: They love and they feel loss, but they cannot connect.

So, - is it a necessary polar opposite... i.e. -"Bad" for me to leave?  No. Of course not. At least I think its not. The fence rail I'm on though is this nagging question that suggests that if I leave I am leaving the very love that I've always wanted. If I leave is it because I'm the one who is fucked up?  What if the great truth is that, "by staying, the relationship will get better as most things do, -like a fine old wine, will we learn to tolerate one another and will I then find that we have a solid, loving bond that is more powerful than I ever imagined." What if???  If I leave I would miss out on this.  What if I'm missing the point and I'm just running because of the age old truth of fleeing from having to look at myself? What if the great mystery, the great breakthrough to nivana was to be had simply by relaxing into my life as it is and letting him do what he wants? But what do I do with the idea that this higher path really means that I have to sidestep the tirades, dodge the drunken evenings and just go with my life?  This is the path to enlightenment, to living a life that is balanced and equanimous! My god! I am so weary of the rage and neglect. What does it mean if I'm afraid to stay with it? Am I a looser? The looser?

What if its my destiny to live with the aloofness, the cursing? My destiny to live without support, without being noticed, without tenderness, without sexual tenderness. Am I crazy to want this in my life?


In a flash, it crosses my mind that he is just like my mother. My family. He's more familiar than I want to admit. But I don't choose to live in this type of world. I did not choose to live in a shallow, harsh, emotionally cold world. I fled. I always flee.  I'm always searching for adequate sustenance; searching for anything to ease the wanting, the hunger for authentic connection. Is that what the idea of god fulfills? Will meditation really create a sense of having enough? I hear my mind saying over and over again that I want a world that is more loving, more peaceful, more meditative. And yet, I choose PT. I choose a man who is bright, engaging, funny, lively, hip etc... but also, someone who outwardly reminded me of my father. But now, here I am having to face the obvious truth. Have I, in choosing PT as my mate, recreated my fundamental family origins? Is this my predicament? Am I just recreating the pain of my aloof, absent, angry mother, the anchor of my family of origin?  Fuck.

So, what do I do with this information? How do I reconcile this insight? What does it mean? Can I heal these original wounds? Can I rewire the brain so that it doesn't feel such emotional pain?  Can I tame the triggers? Will the pain subside? Will I find peace if the reaction goes away?

I am spending a lot of time weighing and measuring these thoughts, trying to understand. Like the classical conversation between the velveteen rabbit and the Skin Horse, wherein the rabbit asks, "What is real?" I am on a the fence.  Should I go? Should I stay and accept this life with all its failings and all its beauties? What should I do?

Stay or go?

Watching the stories of the mind...
I love the analogy of watching a train passing through your mind, each car a thought. Can you see the thoughts? Can you catch the story? PT has been absent this past week. His mind otherwise preoccupied. I end up slipping away into obscurity and aside from occasional small polite passing remarks, I go unnoticed and he happily chugs along in his mind oblivious as to whether I am there or not.  It wears on me, like always, and after yet another night of not sleeping w/ me and brushing off my attempts to connect w/ a hug or a kiss when I arrive home or awaken I snapped at him yesterday morning. The usual tired excuses and accusations fly between us. I go off to work weary. Looked at various housing options yesterday. The houses I'm interested are in the $1000 / month range. Need something in the $700 range with land and pets allowed. Still too unsure yet, and so I hesitate to really get serious about house searching. I hesitate before actually picking up the phone and calling realtor friends, or an advertised landlord.

It was a long, sad day. Came home pushed onward w/him. Same old conversations. He wants me to find peace. He doesn't feel like he has to make an effort. He wants to be left alone. I have to face the bitter truth that he doesn't want to be in a relationship with me. Well he does, but he is incapable of being intimate. H doesn't get it. It hurts deeply.

I see too that my own fear is at work and contributes to the disharmony. I see that when I don't say anything about him not kissing me or not coming to bed I am afraid that I am giving him implicit permission to slip away into his isolated little world and that one day will turn into two will turn into a week will turn into a lifetime together of not being touched.. -a lifetime of cold, polite interaction and my fear of this feels so overwhelming. It feels so unbearable.

And yet, all things are bearable.

And, he does eventually come around to telling me he loves me and he doesn't want me to go. And he comes to bed and holds me sweetly. And sometimes, its enough.

Reconciliation with self and others.

The Canadian Geese arrived this morning. Two pair. They bring a certain perspective, a compliment to an easy Saturday morning. They prompt laughter with their sudden flapping of wings and loud honks. Its a welcome relief after 4 days of strife.

Pema Chodron, the Buddhist nun who resides in Nova Scotia, arrives in my email box weekly. Her foundation sends out weekly quotes from her numerous books and lectures. I like them. They arrive offering a whisper of advise. They provide a moment to give pause, to stop the chatter, stop the urgency, stop the god-almighty  "to-do" lists. Reading the passages, I am reminded to just breathe, and for the time it takes to read the passage and reflect upon it, I am invited to rearrange my thought patterns, rearrange the chaos, rearrange the angst, the unbalance. Return to calm.

This week: "When you’re like a keg of dynamite about to go off, patience means just slowing down at that point—just pausing—instead of immediately acting on your usual, habitual response. You refrain from acting, you stop talking to yourself, and then you connect with the soft spot. But at the same time you are completely and totally honest with yourself about what you are feeling. You’re not suppressing anything; patience has nothing to do with suppression. In fact, it has everything to do with a gentle, honest relationship with yourself."



Timing is perfect, naturally. How is it that energetic patterns set up like this? How is it that we create our own realities? Tuesday night, out of nowhere, an argument spiraled out of reason. Rage flowed out of me, relentless, driving. I was triggered by his cluelessness, his endless distraction, aversion to intimacy, aversion to connection. He was impatient. Highly irritated that I was demanding that he engage in conversation. I grew super impatient by his impatience. We were two kegs of dynamite smoldering, edgy. Wednesday night the fuse ignites again, but this time explodes. Triggered, at wits end, intolerant and desperate to pierce the armor I beat him with a wicker basket, luckily it was the thing closest at hand, the container for the gold fish food. In a blinding light of rage the basket shattered, wicker flew everywhere, the dogs were aroused and the bonehead was barking and pulling at PT's shirtsleeve. He griped my wrists. Restrained, contained. Some clarity returned and I could see the destruction strewn across the floor. I was still seething, but able to stop shouting. A cold disdain, a fierce declaration of my perspective and demands.


Thursday I'm shaken. Can't reconcile my rage with my public persona - "ms. restorative justice." I'm anxious. I'm ashamed. I tell my colleague, "ms. delightful." She is compassionate. Doesn't condone my violence, but acknowledges my feelings. It helps to share it. In the evening, I want to talk with PT but I'm afraid. What can I say? I am a hypocrite. I espouse Buddhist ideology. I am paid to help others to repair their harm. I need to repair my harm. Is it repairable? Am I potentially dangerous? Will I escalate more next time? Will he? What if he harbors resentment (why wouldn't he?). What if he is triggered while drunk? It could be very dangerous. 


Breathing. Reminded that there is no way out. Only through. It's hard to get him to agree to talk with me. He's wary. Suspect. We have sparks, outbursts. I retreat promising to return when calm. I try again. Ask permission to talk. Impatience. The message is, "get on with it!"  I speak of my wrong doing, my pain, my shame. Conversation goes on for a couple of hours. Difficult, tense. Push to be heard, work to hear. We move through. Glimmers of love, of hope. We sleep, peacefully. Friday in the morning there is residue, unfinished hostility. He takes in out on my little dog, the punk. I intervene, "do not abuse the dog!" "do not take your anger toward me out on the dog!" "Patience," I command!


Break through. It finally comes. We return to knowing one another. Peaceful, open, connected. Full circle to this morning. The geese have arrived. We are honest. Gentle. At home. We start again. We start again.

I Feel Joyful!

"Perhaps surprisingly, another important aspect of equanimity is joy. Recognizing the joy of equanimity goes against the common view that equanimity is dry, unemotional, and somewhat aloof. For the Buddha, however, mature, equanimity is linked with a deep and sometimes subtle joy and happiness, characteristic of a (relative) freedom of mind and heart. Joy naturally arises, the Buddha tells us, when we no longer are hooked by what is agreeable or disagreeable in experience. As we work through our attachments and aversions, we become more and more "purified and bright, malleable, wieldy, and radiant," "peaceful" and "sublime". (pg.173, The Engaged Spiritual Life, Donald Rothberg

My journey is starting to reflect this wisdom. I resonate with it so. I've been on fire with life recently. Bringing order; speaking out -strong and from my heart. Standing down fear. Practicing compassion and patience as consciousness allows. 

PT and I have been lingering longer is present moment together. Practicing intentional kindness, or rather, intentionally reflecting what is real for each of us. It seems that loving-kindness is more evident. There are still drunken, confused evenings. I still notice alienation and fear of abandonment. I still notice "flight" thinking. I'm starting to think that its more of a drill, a practice session, a recognition that things can change, and that I may need to be nimble, familiar with the nod to get going at some future time. But, more and more, I see myself engaged in my work now -alive, creative and not needing PT's affection as a primer for my life to flow. I am flowing. And, its because I'm practicing letting go. I'm actively practicing equanimity. "When we are no longer hooked by what is agreeable or disagreeable in experience, we experience joy." I feel joyful! 

 And with that - I'm off to hike on the island with my joyful, loving canines!!

The drip, drip, drip of small irritations...

It is the constant drip, drip, drip of 
small thoughtless behaviors that destroys the relationship. The lack of eye contact, the 
obsessive/compulsive behaviors, the adherence to rigid routines, the self absorption, the 
social anxiety, all lead to family members feeling like they just cannot connect with their 
Asperger family members. But it isn't so much the unusual behaviors that make the 
connecting difficult, but the inconsistency. Never knowing what is coming next, makes a 
loving connection very difficult.


True.


Thursday night we're off to a presentation. HIs behavior is measured, jovial. Talking a lot. Not terribly unusual. Missing subtle social cues for appropriateness. Leans in too close, pulls my hair playfully in the car. Speaks up publicly out of turn. I pat his leg, hopefully. Hopeful that he'll catch on. It was the smell of alcohol that oozed from his skin that was most disconcerting and telling though.


Last night I arrive home after seven. Long day. He's obsessively doing dishes. Needs to be prodded to greet me. "Come see what I have." The radio blaring loud enough to interfere with conversation. I ask if he is listening to the story. Abruptly he moves quickly to turn it off. I say, "it was just a yes or no question." Do you want to watch a movie I ask? Yes, he does. But an hour and half later he is manically typing a letter to the BDN. I feel tired and tell him I'm going to bed, reminding him I worked 12 hours. At 1 am I get up to use the bathroom, come down stairs to turn off a bright light that reflects into the bedroom. Him: staring at the computer screen. I look for acknowledgement of my presence, say hi and ask how it goes. He says fine. Doesn't look up. I turn and go back up the stairs. I get into bed and drift back to sleep when suddenly he is whistling to the dogs and rough housing with them and then calling for Zoey. I call out to him: "PT! Shussh!" He continues. "PT!"  "What!" He shouts back. I tell him to stop shouting. He argues. I ask him if he's drunk. Bad move on my part. He's triggered. When he comes to bed I admittedly try to smooth things over. He's rigid and cold. I ask if he's mad. Yes, he's mad that I asked if he was drunk. I try to explain my perspective. He thinks it was fine to "play" with the dogs. I was awake. Accuses me of not saying goodnight. I remind him. I explain my contact w/ him as a form of acknowledgment. He escalates and begins shouting. I point out he is being beligerant. And I pour fuel on the fire by telling him how he smelled like alcohol that night before. How I wonder about unusual behavior and whether he is drunk. His behavior was inconsiderate. He tells me he always has to walk on egg shells when I'm around. We leave it at that. Today is a new day. A weekend. Will he be cold and tense? Loving and kind? Who knows?

Wonder: Does my man have Asperger's???

Last weekend, I sent this letter to PT and asked him to discuss with me... I found it on a website which I'll credit later...  (as I'm posting this -he is down stairs jumping up and down, "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!! WHAT A STUPID ASS CONTROL"....  (followed by "never mind me"). I wish the world wasn't so complicated for him.

PT would you please read through these 15 questions and look at yourself with an objective eye (if you can) and consider whether this applies to you. I would you like for you to talk with me about it. If it does apply to you, can we discuss how we can manage going forward? If this doesn't seem like a good fit for you, then please share your thoughts with me and also, please bring some helpful ideas to the table. I am experiencing a large % of what is described below and so, I need some answers. This is very important. You are important to me, but for my well being we need to come up with some strategies that work for both of us. In order to do that we have to speak frankly.

with loving kindness,

Married to someone with Aspergers....

==========================================
Frequently Asked Questions on Asperger Syndrome
Dr. Kathy J. Marshack, Ph.D., P.S.

1. What is Asperger Syndrome?
Asperger Syndrome (AS) is the term applied to the high functioning end of what is known 
as the spectrum of pervasive developmental disorders or the Autism spectrum.
Asperger syndrome is a relatively new category, since it was officially recognized in the 
Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) for the first time in 1994.
Since AS itself shows a range or spectrum of symptom severity, many individuals who 
might meet criteria for that diagnosis are viewed as "unusual" or "just different," or are 
misdiagnosed with conditions such as Attention Deficit Disorder.
The new DSM-4 criteria for a diagnosis of AS include the presence of:
ï The impaired use of nonverbal behaviors to regulate social interaction, failure to ï
develop age-appropriate peer relationships, lack of spontaneous interest in sharing ï
experiences with others, and lack of social or emotional reciprocity.
ï Restricted, repetitive, and stereotyped patterns of behavior, interests, and activities 
involving: preoccupation with one or more stereotyped and restricted pattern of ï
interest, inflexible adherence to specific nonfunctional routines or rituals, 
stereotyped or repetitive motor mannerisms, or preoccupation with parts of objects.

2. How common is Asperger Syndrome?
AS is much more common than previously realized and many adults are 
undiagnosed.Studies suggest that AS is considerably more common than "classic" Autism. 
Whereas Autism has traditionally been thought to occur in about 4 out of every 10,000 
children, estimates of Asperger Syndrome have ranged as high as 20-25 per 10,000. A 
study carried out in Sweden , concluded that nearly 0.7% of the children studied had 
symptoms suggestive of AS to some degree. Time Magazine notes in its May 6, 2002 issue 
cover story, "ASD is five times as common as Down syndrome and three times as common 
as juvenile diabetes."

3. All of us have symptoms like these at times. Are we all Aspergers?
Many describe living with an Aspie as "water torture." It is the constant drip, drip, drip of 
small thoughtless behaviors that destroys the relationship. The lack of eye contact, the 
obsessive/compulsive behaviors, the adherence to rigid routines, the self absorption, the 
social anxiety, all lead to family members feeling like they just cannot connect with their 
Asperger family members. But it isn't so much the unusual behaviors that make the 
connecting difficult, but the inconsistency. Never knowing what is coming next, makes a 
loving connection very difficult.

4. What distinguishes Asperger thinking from normal thinking?
Asperger Syndrome (AS) is demonstrated by deficits in communication, social skills and 
reciprocity of feelings. The Aspie knows what they think and feel but are often unaware of 
what their loved ones think or feel. With limited empathy for others, you can't really 
connect. So those with Asperger Syndrome go through life focused on their needs and 
wants often missing what is going on with others. This does not mean that they don't feel 
or love but they don't seem to notice what is going on with others and do not convey that 
they care.

5. What is mind blindness?
Most of our communication and interpersonal relating is nonverbal in nature. The person 
with Asperger Syndrome has trouble reading these nonverbal cues and therefore ignores 
the bulk of communication. This mind blindness leaves the spouse wondering if she is 
understood or cared for or trusted by her Aspie partner.

6. Can men with Asperger Syndrome love?
All people can feel love. It's a matter of quality in a relationship with an AS adult. The AS 
man never seems to learn that his wife can't feel his love if he does not demonstrate it. 
He will do what he thinks is best for the both of them but seldom talks to her about her 
feelings or opinions. And if she tries to share her love for him, he may find her need to 
"connect" smothering. Often these relationships are without sexual intimacy.

7. Why can't these men connect?
If you don't have much of an interior life yourself and you cannot comprehend the interior 
life of another, then connection is very difficult. An Aspie husband and Neuro-typical (NT) 
wife are often described as like two insulated wires wrapped around each other, . . . 
touching but not connecting.

8. Why do Asperger men and Neuro-typical women get married?
AS men are attracted to strong, intelligent, compassionate women who can handle the 
social world for them. These same women are attracted to the unconventional nature and 
boyish charm of AS men. They feel he will allow them their independence. It is only later 
that they learn their AS partner is quite conservative. Instead of supporting her 
independence the NT wife realizes that her AS husband is merely disinterested in her 
interests. His attention is narrowly focused on his interests.

9. Are there women with Asperger Syndrome?
Yes and their lives are probably even more complex than their male counterparts. To some 
extent, males with Asperger's are more accepted because their behavior is viewed as 
extreme male thinking. But women with Asperger Syndrome are viewed as cold, uncaring, 
and selfish. Many AS women never marry or they marry AS men.

10. What kind of parents are people with Asperger Syndrome?
We are just learning about this tragedy from adults coming forward to tell about being 
raised by AS parents. So far these people are reporting that they have coped with severe 
depression and self esteem problems because they lived with a parent who could not 
nurture them or get to know who they really are. It is very debilitating to experience 
emotional rejection daily as a child, even if your physical needs are provided for. This does 
not mean the AS parent does not love their child. But the communication and relating 
deficits confuse the child and can lead to the child feeling unloved.

11. Why is it so emotionally debilitating for NTs to live with these people?
When the person you love does not respond to your bids for affection, or attempts to 
share your inner world, you come to doubt your perception of reality. Slowly your self-
esteem is eroded. You walk on eggshells wondering what abuse the AS parent or spouse 
will dish out next. If your mate, child or parent has not yet been diagnosed, you do not 
know that they have a developmental disability. So you keep trying to reach them or solve 
the problem and often blame yourself. You find a way to cope and often this creates 
severe depression or extreme resentment. Many NTs who have grown up with AS parents 
report a lifetime of severe depression, "nervous breakdowns" and a string of broken 
relationships because they came to believe that they had no worth. Remember it is the 
child's experience that defines the parenting, not whether the AS parent loves their child.

12. What do you mean by walking on eggshells in an Asperger marriage?
Men with undiagnosed AS often feel as if their spouse is being ungrateful or "Bitchy" when 
she complains he is uncaring or never listens to her. He knows what he thinks and how he 
feels, so should she. He has no need to understand her so her complaints are bothersome 
to him. He can come to be quite defensive when she asks for clarification or a little 
sympathy. The defensiveness turns into verbal abuse (and sometimes physical abuse) as 
the husband attempts to control the communication to suit his view of the world.

13. Is there a cure for Asperger Syndrome or for the marriage?
Asperger Syndrome is an incurable form of autism. The usual methods of psychotherapy 
used to teach clients communication and interpersonal skills will not work with AS. The AS 
client can master some simple behaviors to get them by in the world, but they will fall 
short in the intimacy of marriage. In the marriage the NT spouse will need to adapt to the 
handicap. She must learn to translate the language to make her needs and wants as 
explicit as possible because her partner cannot read her non-verbal communication. She 
must also look to others for the type of personal and spiritual connection she can never 
have with her husband.

14. How can you have a marriage without connecting personally or spiritually?
Again it is a matter of quality. If you have many interests in common, such as music or 
sports, you may enjoy the companionship of your AS spouse. However, the strain of 
raising children who may have inherited AS from their parent, often puts an end to the 
marriage. The NT spouse cannot handle the loneliness and abuse, and care for dependent 
children as well. Often she is the one to finally call an end to the marriage. On the other hand, some NT spouses report that the marriage can be quite gratifying if their AS spouse acknowledges his limitations and works with his wife to create a kind of loving connection.

15. What can you expect if you divorce an AS man?
Unfortunately he will not understand why the woman wants a divorce and he is likely to be 
quite angry about it. Not knowing how to handle his distress he may turn the energy into 
revenge. Many high conflict divorces are the result of the negativity and obsessing of the 
AS partner regarding the wrongdoing he perceives of his NT spouse. It is likely to be a 
long, painful and expensive divorce where all suffer, including the children. Some men 
with AS, however, just leave quietly and never remarry, because they cannot quite figure 
out how to rebuild a life separately from their former spouse. Some NT former spouses 
report that their ex-husband even still refers to her as his "wife" years after the divorce.

Uneasy conversations w/ self

So, what if he is a person w/ aspergers syndrome? OK... so now what?
 I will not get the attention, nurturing and/or affection that I want. Perhaps he can learn cognitively how to respond in an affectionate way, but the truth is that our souls are so sensitive, that they differentiate between artificial and authentic nurturing attention. If he can't feel, and only goes through the motions, then its the equivalent of a robot providing rote maintenance.

I feel so confused.

What if he is only ADHA? Somehow, that in the face of AS sounds better. But is it? What's the real piece that's missing in this relationship?



An emotional adult.
I'm looking for an adult to share my life with.
I think.
This is complex.
I see that. If only I can make sense of it all.

I am a healthy, competent, loving woman. I want reciprocity of loving interaction. I want to nurture. I want to be nurtured. I want to be tender, affectionate and passionate. I want to feel it given to me too. I want to feel desired. I want to feel cherished. I want to love and admire and be loved and admired. I want to be responsible and accountable and I want the same from my partner. I want to share planning. I want to accomplish things. It feels good. I want to keep growing. I want to do it independently and interdependently.

If PT has AS, then he is incapable. Even if he learns some of the behaviors cognitively, it will never be authentic and bright, and alive. I know what that feels like.

If he has ADHD... what then? Same cognitive behavioral path? Is cognitive knowing less intimate than intuitive knowing? Can there be mature love? Can there be a mature relationship? What course do I have before me knowing that my emotional needs cannot be met in this relationship?

Can I suspend this need? It won't be met if I live alone. But alone, I am free to bring into my life people who can love. Do they exists? Yes. Of course. There are people who see the world as I do. There are men who are neurologically typical and capable of depth and love and nurturance. Am I too old to bring that energy into my life?

But I don't want to move. I don't want to struggle to survive. I don't want to be alone.
Be honest. Many times, you'd just as soon be alone. Like now. Its nice to be in the loft with the computer and to have him out of the house.  I would be fine if I lived alone too. I could fine something that I can afford. I will build a peaceful, loving space. I am capable and I can do it. I love Peter though. How can I leave him?


This is not an easy conversation to have with myself.

And its very hard to break off this conversation and sit with myself. Especially knowing he is at the neighbor's house. That he would rather flee to the neighbors house than be here and work things out with me. I can think logically about all of the above thoughts and also feel panic about change in our status. There is comfort in the same old gripe. The same familiar bitch. The same familiar dissatisfaction.

Tomfoolery.

Another drunk evening. Him. Not me.
8:01. Smashed. Passing out with the dog.
Slurring conversations.
Insistence on conversations that go no where.
Resistance to reason.
Steadfast in his intransigence.
I'm frozen in time, he says.
What do you mean? I ask.
He looks wistfully off.
"oh is this the elaine thing?"
Drunken foolishness.
I'm tired of this tomfoolishness.
I tell him so.
Ends with him doing the dishes and asking what am I going to do?
"I'm going to leave you." I say.
He leaves the house. I hope he's gone to his friends house so he's not outside, drunk and in the freezing cold.
I come to the computer. My heart in throat. Afraid.
Annoyed.
Angry.
Disdainful.
Relieved and a little triumphant.

He actually told me I could take another lover.
Jerk.

I also feel like a jerk.
I looked him in the eye tonight, (for the 2 seconds he'll make eye contact), and asked him if
he had aspherghers.
Maybe. He said.
I feel betrayed.

So there!

Its the lack of physical affection that is most heart wrenching. I feel enraged, outraged. Sad and lonely. Resentful. Bitter. Disdain. So then I think of this man I saw pull into the parking lot tonight and as his daughter exited the vehicle he snarled scornfully to her to not slam the car door. She was sullen, fearful or aloof, I'm not sure. He ranted at her once more as they crossed the parking lot. His pregnant woman followed looking hollow, disheveled, unloved. It was pittiful.







My life is not so bad, really. Its just that, it is, in terms of how I believe I should live; which is joyfully, playfully and fully playfully loved. So there.

Birth of Order

So what is it? A frenzied mind that observes itself? What is it to be mindfully in addiction? Watching oneself cope. Noting it. Not judging, but lovingly drawing limits. A boundary.
"Not now darling."
"No dear. That's enough."
"Think of your teeth!"
"Your colon."

So, is this it? Is this the way out? Watching. Dilegent. Understanding the need for coping. Pushing through the projects all screaming to be paid attention to. All screaming to be done.

I'm pushing onward, but this room project is still far from complete. I'm trying to finish before the weekend when the wonderful little Miss B comes with her fabulous Mama S and little sister Miss CJ. They are coming because Miss B would like to learn how to weave on her loom.  I want the room done because I want my outside world to reflect an interior world that is calm and sane. Calm and alive and creative and happy. I want all of these things, and pain free teeth and pretty good health.

Oh, alright. Throw in enlightenment too. Why not? But seriously, its interesting to watch myself binge and watching to see if I can come out of it, not having finished it all. And, can I see the stuff in the morning and dispose of it? Big questions for myself. This is a lonely journey, this journey out of a food addiction. Its very personal and fraught with opportunities everywhere to feel alarmed, fearful. Do I eat? Don't I eat? Should I wait for something that never comes? Should I just take care of myself? How do I merge gracefully with the rhythm of PT's world?


So it occurs to me that I'm acting as though I am healthy. I'm putting my world into order. Its quite an undertaking. But I've initiated some of the steps that I know will get me there and I'm trying to establish, lay down new habits... Such as, an organized living space. First this upstairs area... studio, work, meditation and exercise. Putting storage into sensible order. Then downstairs to the bathroom. Organizing food for transport. Shopping. Preparing and writing down food and planning meals. Or at least I'm trying. Practice is the key, right? Order, order, order. I'm craving it like mad. At work... everything is compartmentalizing. Finish, Finish, Finish. Everybody wants to wrap up things prematurely. I'm always trying to finish something. Tomorrow I'll wake up and review the job description from the Big Cheese. There are the curriculums that need attention. There are the men that need attention. And more attention. There are the volunteers, and more volunteers. And now the TANK requires me to step into a responsible role. Of course. Of course everyone has to help. Breathe.
Don't forget to Breathe.
And observe.
This too shall change.

Begin; again.

Well, its time. I've been chewing on it for a while. Months, really.
Its time to step up my life experience. Walk my desires, so to speak. Start a discipline to drop this extra weight and step into the life that  I'm trying to lead. I feel like I've been clearing the decks, laying the groundwork; foundational stuff for living here with PT. I've needed to get an understanding of how I've been responding to the situation and exacerbating it. You know... pushing the limit without really intending to. I still don't have any idea if I'm going to stay on in the household, mated to PT, but right now, its ok. I'm not fretting about it. I've been sleeping better. I'm noticing my agitations, I'm speaking my truth and I'm getting shit done.

I like the concept of evolution. I think we evolve when we surrender to the truth of our addictions; when we surrender to our fears. When we stand in our truth something shifts and fear is only a reminder to pay attention. When we are present and paying attention we have the power of courage and at the same time the peace of knowing and a sense of trust.

When I think of my own evolution is begins with a self concept make over. I want to look vibrant. I want to look attractive at any age. I believe that right now, I am on the edge of dowdy; in fact I see dowdy on more days than I care to admit. In my mind's eye I see myself as strong and agile. I see myself hiking and moving around, working, bending, walking, climbing. When I see myself doing those things, I also see myself laughing.

I think of evolution as the process of finding your voice and in that voice there is an abundance of laughter; laughter born of self confidence and an ease with not knowing.

In evolution my body is less large and not governed by cravings and mindless eating that is intended to sooth away fear and agitation.

I have plenty of tools as I begin, and begin I must even as I still do not have the upstairs complete and organized to my satisfaction. I have to push on. I see that my home life is taking on compartmentalizations just like my work life is. In someways this massive cleaning of house and organizing that I'm in the midst of has activated brain neurons that I have had on the back burner. My head buzzes most of the time with thoughts and answers and questions and imaginings. I love it. So, tomorrow I begin to implement a new discipline - eating mindfully and plan-fully. Plan-fully isn't really a word but I like the way it makes me think I'm on track, I'm not lost. I have my bearings. That's really what we have to do when we are coming into ourselves, isn't it? We have to have our bearings. So, with a plan, I've got my coordinates and I can handle what comes at me because I'm in touch with the present, I know where I am and I can tap my self, my soul, my source. I become the essence of wisdom that I know I am evolving into.

First there is the body thing. Then there is the house/survival thing. Its really all about how I live. Is there peace? Can I meditate? Can I think? Can I eat healthy? Can I love and be loved? Are we safe, emotionally and physically? Do we have what we need? Do I need to look out for myself interdependently or independently? This is still to be learned.

In any event, tomorrow dear girl, you will eat with a plan, get fit w/ a plan, play w/ your animals w/a plan and calm your mind w/ a plan. You will generally practice being present while you shift your life into your court with the tools of routine and discipline.

This is what love looks like.

Having the spirit of the whale requires outrage and discipline

Bosnia is often on my mind. I can sort of understand the connection, remembering back to the time I was first inspired in a group of woman/ empowered by the circle when I gathered with others to shout out against the male oppression, the oppression of war, the atrocities against the women of Bosnia.


I look and see the book titled S on my bookshelf. I've never been able to read it beyond the beginning chapter. Couldn't bear the pain. In this moment, I look to it and I'm ready. I note too that I heard a story on NPR yesterday about A. Jollee producing a film about the Bosnian war between the serbs and muslims. 


I'm also noting that I feel continual annoyance, resentment and anger toward Big Tree. I love him, yes, but I'm feeling a lot of rightous anger these days. I feel courageous and bold and not too tolerant of his rants, or of his bad behavior.


I feel equally outraged by the mighty and rich corporation's intent to manipulate and harm our community with its proposed project to import and distribute propane. I feel outraged at the injustice of this mega power's ability to do what ever it wants simply because of its might.


I am determined, today to conquer the mess of chaos that I am presently living in and furthermore to watch a film that the big cheese gave me to watch on quantum physics. 

Discipline: is it an achievable goal? Can one be disciplined and have a spontaneous, quality, creative, rich life? I want some serious discipline in my life. Perhaps it is a counter remedy to the world of chaos I feel thrust into. I asked Big Tree for a quiet day at home today. He cranked "This American Life" within 5 minutes. I have to explain to him that I literally meant "a quiet" day at home. He resentfully turns the radio down and then later turns it back on at less loud volume, but still loud enough for me to listen to if I choose too. I'd prefer not to be be able to listen. I like the quiet of my own thoughts. It helps me focus and imagine a life with some boundaries, goals and dreams. 


So, Margaret Wheatley writes that discipline is a strange and foreign concept to many people today, noting that we've been conditioned to follow our passion, to do what we love, to connect our work with our life's purpose so that we'll be highly motivated.  Exactly. That's why I'm wondering if I can have discipline and still smoke dope and be creative and spontaneous.  But Wheatly argues that if we don't interject discipline into our life then we end up always looking for a substitute. We seek new work, new causes, new relationships, something or somebody that will fire up our passion and make us feel motivated and alive again.  When we are propelled by passion, rather than by discipline, we end up spent, exhausted, unhappy.  We loose our capacity to persevere.


Yesterday at our staff retreat, we began by pulling an animal card and connecting w/its attributes as a teaching about ourselves. I drew the whale. I was surprised. I have never identified with the whale. Well, except that I have, recently, been thinking of painting driftwood that reminds me of flying ocean fish, mystical whales, etc. 


The whale: Here is something I found on the internet:

A Whale totem teaches you to go deep within yourself
to awaken your inner creativity.
But they also teach us not to become lost in our creative imagination,
but to live in the real world.

When a Whale totem shows up in your life, examine your own use of creativity.
Apply your own creative intuition to formulas --
this is what imbues them with power and magic.

Creativity for the sake of creativity is not what the Whale teaches.
It awakens great depth of creative inspiration, but you must add your own color and light
to your outer life to make it wonderful.

The sound of the Whale teaches us how to create with song.

The whale, along with the dolphin, are the other sentient beings of our planet.
They too are self-aware and have souls.
Accordingly to the Michael Teachings, they are on their fourth cycle,
while most of mankind is on its eleventh or twelfth cycle.

Hmmm. I wonder what that means... fourth cycle, and 11 or 12th cycle. And what are the Michael teachings? Is it something I've been exposed to before, say... in Santa Fe. Remember that woman that Becca knew... named Michael? Is it her?

Anyhow... another totem internet page simply attributes the whale with memory. Yesterday, I took away the association of the whale with the keeper of the stories. I liked that given my desire to cultivate Indigo Crow, storyteller, spoken word poet. The whale totem will have to find its way to my identity.

Pregnant with Possibility

I feel pregnant w/ possibility. Every cell feels full and ripe. My body feels as though it is growing larger and sometimes I am agitated by the situation, but mostly I feel that I'm just not ready to loose the weight and so, I am ignoring it, more or less. But, in my head I am so alive. Too full, almost. Thinking, chewing on ideas, imagining, constructing. I feel like a warrior. I feel rebellious.

What is it to be human?

WHAT IT IS TO BE HUMAN

Although it is embarrassing and painful, it is very healing to stop hiding from yourself. It is healing to know all the ways that you shut down, deny, close off, criticize people, all your weird little ways. You can know all that with some sense of humor and kindness. By knowing yourself, you’re coming to know humanness altogether. -Pema Chodron

I'm here listening to PT and his son Cypress talking while they cook up a steak (slathered in liquid smoke drenched salt and garlic paste). Its delicious, and I'm eager to share food w/ them. But I'm lost in thought these days. I'm fired up thinking about curriculum and ideas and people and also, about finding myself. It's as though energy is building, bubbling, surging out through my very core. I am calling myself Indigo Crow. I want to create. I want to create. I want to live passionately, spiritually, aesthetically, healthily, peacefully. I want to tell stories. I want to teach through story and I want to speak. I want to connect with humans. Can I continue to live here with PT? He wonders as much as I do. We are weary of the arguments. We are weary of the struggle, but are we able to see ourselves with humor and with kindness? I am painting. I want to create with all mediums. I'm going to get involved w/ a theater group. I collect sea glass, rocks, driftwood. I want to create goddesses. I want to move into this next phase of my life with joy and fearlessness.


I think about this idea of transformation all the time. How do I want to present myself to the world for the rest of my wild and passionate life? Will I find another human to share intimacy that is physical and close? Will PT and I find it? Maybe. But realistically, its not something PT wants. I don't believe he is interested in a life of reflection and service and love that is open and nurturing and courageous and real. In truth, I have come to see him as a man gripped by fear who behaves more like a cornered tiger who snarls with frightened reaction even when the coast is completely clear. He talks about others who are "drunks" with disdain even though he himself is a sloppy, uninteresting drunk himself, several times a week. Do I have a right to be disdainful? For all I know he drinks because I eat. Do I eat because he drinks?