Starry Eyed....Ellie Goulding. In an endless loop. This repetition...it feels nice. Soothing. That is kind of what this post is about. Repetition. But the bad kind. The Somebody-Please-Shoot-Me-In-The-Face-Oh-My-God-Stop-The-World-I'd-Like-To-Get-Off-Now-PlzThx kind of repetition. Specifically the kind that goes on in my head ad irritatum.
interacting, in a social context, is rather exhausting. it's weird though...because i often forget. i talk on the phone. i chat on aim and yim. i have been going the irc route since i was 15. there are asperger's chat rooms there. i have met a few people that i can somewhat relate to (on whatever small level) but i have met FAR more individuals that make me think something along the line of "What. The. Hell?!". this, added with how easily i converse via telephone (or skype, w/e) gives me pause and i think "no, no. the head shrinker was incorrect. i do not have asperger's at all. i function (very very AWKWARDLY, but still i function), i bathe (seriously...this seems to be a common issue), i can cook (i am no chef, but i will not starve for lack of cooking ability once i have moved out), etc etc."
and then i leave the house....
as i was saying. The Social. it is physically exhausting. like manual labor. extremely unpleasant. i don't remember it always being this way. when i was a kid it either was not something that i thought much about or it was just...confusing. but not exhausting. nothing to get oneself tired over. nothing to lose sleep over (oh...how i long for THAT little piece of heaven.).
it's only been this way since the middle of 5th grade (that final year of elementary school...before middle school hell ensues). that i started to really feel something. that all of those failed interactions and botched conversations began to etch themselves into my mind. latch onto my memory like the suction cupped vice grip of the octopus and squeeze squeeze squeeze. and then stay there and replay themselves into infinity. hours...days...weeks...months...years. no expiration date within sight.
this is fairly difficult to write about. i am not very proficient at explaining myself coherently. what i think. how i feel. but hey, has that ever stopped me before?
i don't think that i have ever written about this. at least not in any depth. i resent it. my inability to just "let it go". sure, i don't gripe about it out loud. no, never. i try my best to show no outward sign of my mental sense of chaos. turmoil. my mother...she cannot handle that. slowly but surely i am learning. don't feel anything negative. if there is no way around it, don't show it. if anyone catches on? lie lie lie (serj tankian, anyone?).
what was i saying? oh, the repetition. i try to hide it. sometimes...i worry. that people can see it. outlined on my face. the obsessing. have i mentioned that i resent it? loathe it with ever fiber of my being? good. i try to hide it. i try to keep the external monologues to a barely audible minimum. yeah...i talk to myself. about past conversations. how crazy is that? "i should have said something else....oh, maybe she meant....that was dumb...what did i do? what did i say? what? what? what? what? ?????? ??????????????????????????? maybe...i could have....maybe i should have...." the conversations play so often...that it kind of hurts. not in a physical way...nor an emotional way. i mean...the context may illicit an emotional reaction but that is neither here nor there. i dunno. it just...hurts. like reopening a wound...an extremely painful but nonexistent wound. those imaginary gashes...they really fucking sting.
when i talk to people i hear everything. i hear them, the clock, the scratchy sound their shirt makes when they pull at their collar. i see everything. the way they move their head to encourage eye contact...to make sure that i am listening. all of those tiny movements that may or may not mean anything at all. it all comes in equally. but...i don't really get the meaning. not right away. people...they think that i can't hear. this is because i say "i'm sorry? what? could you repeat that?" constantly. i hear just fine. but the meaning is lost on me for a while. it takes a bit for me to get the gist ,you know? "what's that? boyfriend? what? stupid egotistical pig? hmmm...oh...wait...OH! YEAH. the bastard. asshole cod? yeah yeah. i smell what you're stepping in. an epidemic. " sometimes it can take DAYS. those moments of clarification. detangeling the bits of interconnected string. a spider's web of small talk. i have to sort through it all. i think that most people...they don't take days to do that. am i wrong? maybe. i am not a mind reader...it seems like everyone else it though.
so these conversations. the play and play and play some more. so my brain...it tries to find the flaw. i want to understand. i want to have these lightning fast revelations too. you know? i become kind of fixated on the words. trying to discern the meanings. it backfires. i start seeing more than is really there. conjecture....it's bad, m'kay?
my English teacher...said that i cannot see the forest for the trees. this was a response to my response to a passage that we'd read...can i apply that here? who cares? i will run with it. with these conversations...i can't see the trees either. like...my mind bypasses all of the "important" things. it takes it ALL in...ergo it gets nothing. i see the leaves. not even narrowing it down to the big pretty ones. all of them. the dead ones scattered about on the ground in various states of decay. the new ones growing from branches. there is no sense of perspective. no degree of importance. without that...what hope is there?
it keeps me up at night. thoughts...conversations swirling around. there is really no way to fix it. you know? people say things like "work. then you will have no trouble sleeping." well...i work now. and people talk to me there. which adds more conversations to the never ending pile. exacerbating the issue. i like working...it makes me feel like a contributing member of society. like maybe i do deserve...you know...happiness? to be acknowledged? but it does not bring me any closer to sleeping. nor does the melatonin. it knocks me out, sure. because i am a pansy. but i am back up an hour later. and thinking. dwelling. coulda shoulda woulda.
it's funny how often i forget when i haven't left the house in a while. "hit me with lightning."
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