The Diary Of My Mind

Rudeness

Throughout the years I have often times been called rude for things that I have said or done. Things that I didn’t consider rude or insensitive at the time and still have great difficulty understanding why these things are considered rude. I have come to understand this as part of my autism which makes social norms not make sense to me, but even so it’s still weird to me that some of these things are considered rude. Now, I’m not saying that I can’t be rude, of course I can. What I am saying is that some of the things that NT’s consider rude make little or no sense at all when you actually look at them.

So I decided to make a short list of some things that make no sense to me…

5.) No saying “bless you” when someone sneezes

So, someone is in your presence and they blow germs all over the room. It is then your responsibility to say “bless you?” Are you thanking them for covering you in germs? Are you literally worried that their spirit is going to escape their body to be replaced by a demon? This common act is so ridiculous to me and I never do it.
Now it hasn’t happened often but I have had people get very upset with me because I didn’t say those two words after they had sneezed. Isn’t that a silly thing to get mad about?

4.) Not saying “excuse me” after burping or farting

Okay, now what the fuck is up with this. A sneeze is to be greeted with a blessing but a fart is to be treated with contempt. Now I understand that a fart or burp can smell bad but they don’t generally make someone sick, whereas a sneeze can lead to a plethora of health issues.
Also, excuse me for what, a natural body function? Everyone farts and burps. Animals throughout nature fart and burp, hell even fish fart. Manatees fart in order to maintain their buoyancy. Why should I feel sorry for something that happens naturally to everyone?

3.)Telling the Truth

This one really gets me. The vast majority of people would rather be lied to a million times than to hear a single harsh truth. For me, I love knowing the truth of things. I’m not saying that I am always right, but I try to speak only the truth and factual information. I find though that I am in the minority.
Over time I have had many people get upset with me because I either told the truth or corrected them on something they were incorrect on. You might ask, “Well, do you like being corrected?” Actually, yes, I do. If I am factually incorrect on something I want to know it.

2.) Disliking something that the majority enjoys

I hate “Game of Thrones.” I am a Tolkien fan and I feel that GoT is nothing more than a wannabe Tolkien epic. With that said I do not go out of my way to insult the show, however, I’ve had numerous people get upset with me over my dislike of the show. This response completely perplexes me.
Perhaps it is the fact that I am so used to people not enjoying my own interests. I cannot remember a time where I actually got mad at someone for disliking something that I enjoy. I have gotten annoyed in the past when someone simply dismisses my own interests as dumb but I cannot think of any time that I have ever gotten mad just because they didn’t like what I did.

1.) Not Understanding Funerals

I guess this is the whole point of the entire post really. My grandmothers funeral is coming up and I guess I have no choice but to go. Funerals though make no sense to me and they never have.
I am told that a funeral is really for the grieving family and not for the person that has passed away. I guess this makes sense but does the dead body or ashes have to be the centerpiece of the event? Just being in the same room as a dead body creeps me the fuck out. I know that I am going to be uncomfortable, I will be greeted by people who don’t really give a shit about me, offering condolences and prayers that are meaningless. If it wasn’t the fact that I feel like I am being forced to go, I wouldn’t…
However, not attending a funeral is seen as rude and insulting to booth the family and the deceased person….even though the deceased person can’t actually get insulted anymore. So just so we’re clear….when I die…if they have a funeral…I won’t care if you don’t come…just saying.

 

Anyway these are just a few of the things that really make no sense to me. I hope you have enjoyed my mindless wandering through this post. Thank you for reading.

 

The Diary Of My Mind

Dealing with Stuff and Things

Life can be incredibly overwhelming to me. For many years I have enjoyed watching the news and discussing current events. Current events were at one point one of my focused interests. I could and still can tell you just about every important news story that happened throughout the day. I used to love keeping up to date but lately this has become a chore and in many cases a terrifying experience.

All of my life I have dealt with fear. I was raised during the era of “Stranger Danger”, at the tail end of the cold war. Life it seemed could be ended for everyone at any point and everyone knew “drop and cover” would do absolutely nothing in the event of a nuclear war. Being a fundamentalist at the time added an extra layer of fear because, at any point, Jesus could return and if you were a sinner it would mean hell for all eternity.

Then things got better. The cold war ended, the world began eliminating its nuclear stockpiles, and humanity seemed to possibly be turning a corner. We had our first African-American president, gay marriage was legalized, and universal healthcare seemed to be a very real possibility in our near future. There was no doubt in mine and many others minds that we were entering a world where anything was possible.

Then the debacle of an election occurred on November 8th occurred and all of that forward progress stopped.

I can no longer turn on the news and enjoy myself. Every day a new awful thing has occurred. One day we hear that the President is goading the North Koreans to a nuclear war, the next day we learn that birth control will no longer be covered by insurance, hell maybe whacking seals with clubs will become the new national past time tomorrow? Seriously, how bad is it going to get?

I am not one for hyperbole. I really couldn’t give a shit it the president hates Rosie O’Donnell. If he wants to tweet about how bad the ratings of the apprentice are now, have at it. I don’t care if he eats pizza with a knife and fork, or that he can’t form a coherent sentence to save his life. I honestly don’t care about 90% of what the news makes a big deal out of, but after listening for 15 minutes, my heart is racing, I start sweating, and my breath shortens.

If I could, I would just hide myself away from society.

People are so fucking exhausting. The world is fucking exhausting. Simply the idea of leaving my house anymore is fucking exhausting. Who knows, maybe today will be the day that I’m at a store when some moron starts shooting the place up. The facts are that half of the country wants to make positive changes that could help the country and the other half simply doesn’t give a shit about anything at all it seems.

I find myself joining that side of the equation from the opposite end of the spectrum. I don’t give a shit anymore because the vast majority of people don’t give a shit. Leave me alone to my books, my movies, my games, and my own thoughts. Let me have my dreams of a better world that will more than likely never exist. Do what you want, destroy the fucking world if that what you see fit to do, just leave me and my little niche the fuck alone.

So to get back to the topic at hand, how do I deal with this world and how overwhelming it is at times?

Short answer: I don’t.

Long answer: I really fucking don’t.

The Diary Of My Mind

Memento Mori

Stress is a strange thing for me, I guess it’s strange for all of us but for me it is very hard to pinpoint exactly what it is that is stressing me out. Obviously my grandmothers illness was wearing my mind out completely because today I had a really good day at work. Not only was I focused but I was back to the extreme focus and motivation to get a lot done that had been missing for several weeks now.

Add to this I’ve changed my shift to showing up an hour earlier, that means I get to work before things get busy and am able to get a lot of work done before things get too hectic. This led to a much less stressful day by itself. I’m incredibly averse to change but this was something that I needed to do for my mental well-being. It was a good choice and while I will have some issues with the change over the next few weeks I’m sure in the end it will have been the correct choice.

So back to my main stressor, my grandmother. I had a dream last night. I saw my grandmother lying there on the bed dying, we sat there for hours waiting to hear anything. All of a sudden she shot upright in bed, looked at me and said,

“I’m dead, Matthew, you can move on now.”

Some would believe this was a paranormal experience, that my grandmother visited me in my dream. However, being that I put no stock in those beliefs I believe the more logical explanation…My brain was telling me that my stress can now subside, I no longer need to worry about my grandmother because there is nothing that worrying can do. She’s dead…tomorrow she will still be dead, the next day she will still be dead, and a year from now she will still be dead, my life however can move on.

I awoke in a good mood, I went to work in a good mood, I completed my tasks in a good mood and as I write this I am still in a good mood. Life is moving on and with it my mind and body can get back to its normal. I loved my grandmother but nothing will bring her back, my life however is something that I can regain control over.

“Memento Mori”, remember that you have to die.  Death will one day come to me as well, but not for now, for now I will write. As Epictetus, the Stoic Philosopher said,

“I have to die. If it is now, well then I die now; if later, then now I will take my lunch, since the hour for lunch has arrived – and dying I will tend to later.”

The Diary Of My Mind

Back From Hiatus

So I haven’t been on here for a bit and just thought I would jump on and write something to let you all know that I’m still here.

So my grandmother passed away a couple of days ago and I think I’m okay. It hit me pretty hard the night she died but since then I’ve entered a beautiful state of denial which I’m not sure how to get out of. Death is so strange to me, it seems like my grandmother is still here and alive, I don’t mean in a physical or metaphysical sense but simply that I haven’t fully accepted her death yet. Life will go on and I know I will one day come to accept that her life has ended but when that will occur is anyone’s guess.

Secondly, my car broke down about a week and a half ago and I finally got it up and running again. I had a brake line that busted and required new lines to be installed. I bought the car less than a year ago and boy has it been a headache. Nothing too serious and mostly stuff that occurs on all cars at some point but the regularity of the breakdowns has been quite the stress inducer on my mind over the last year.

Third, my credit card got compromised the same day that my grandmother passed. It’s a low balance card and so when someone attempted to charge nearly $500 dollars to it, the card company instantly shut the card down. The good news is that I’m not out any money. The bad news is that I am out a credit card for the next week.

Lastly, I still am waiting to get my CPAP machine. The doctor forgot to fill out and submit some paperwork to the medical supply company. While this simply means a few extra days until I get the machine, it does mean that I am not getting any rest at the moment, which is something I am in horrible need of at the moment.

Anyhow, these are the things that have created my writers block over the last few weeks. I do feel like I am getting things under control, at least to a certain degree, and will be able to write more frequently over the coming days and weeks. Life is once again pulling itself back to equilibrium and I at least can put some thoughts together for this blog tonight.

So, now, what is the real topic of this blog?

The real reason I am writing tonight is to describe the existential crisis that I am having at the moment. Life is literally meaningless. We exist, we live, we die, and we probably do some fucking and shitting in between there. I’ve realized that in the grand scheme of things we are all Candide, believing the world has some deeper meaning for us, following systems of belief that ultimately fail, and finding that life is a cruel and indecent mistress, bent on killing us in some way or another.

When I say that life is meaningless, I’m not saying there are not good parts to life, nor am I stating that I am feeling suicidal in any fashion whatsoever. I’m actually a fairly happy person but I see life as completely absurd. We are monkeys that put on suits and pretend we are far more important in the grand scheme of things than any of us actually are. Think of the most important public figure today, and realize that they won’t even be a paragraph worth of material for students 300 years in the future. How much less will the rest of our lives be in regards to our posterity?

Anyway, I’m not the best at describing these feelings. I recommend watching the videos below to gain a better understanding of exactly what an existential crisis is and how one finds themselves going through one. Thank you for reading and have a great week!

 

The Diary Of My Mind

Why I Can’t Write.

My brain is on a senseless shuffle
I see no end in sight
life is an endless boiling bubble
emotions are my plight…

I honestly cannot tell you how I feel at the moment, which doesn’t equate well to a decent blog. I’ve been in shut down mode for the past two weeks. All I have done is played a video game and sat quietly allowing my brain to be in complete down time. This is what I do when my brain gets too much information for it to handle. Many people enjoy music, reading, a productive hobby that produces something, for me it’s video games.

At one point in my life I didn’t understand why I played video games so damn much, yet today I get it. When I am in a game I don’t have to worry about the outside world. I am one with the game. In a way, it is almost a spiritual experience, if you wanted to use those words. I’ve meditated in the past and that feeling of complete quiet and content emptiness is the same that I can get after a two-hour gaming session.

So that’s what I’ve done for the last two weeks. I start the day with the intent to write but as the hours go by and the bullshit builds up I end up in the same state where I was the day before. Why? The reason is I honestly don’t know how I should feel at the moment.

I’m still grasping my official diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder, what that means to me and what my next steps are? Having that diagnosis was a liberating experience and yet as the last few weeks have gone by I have had more and more trouble using the old coping mechanisms that I learned throughout life. Three times in the last week I have gone mute, not just quiet but physically incapable of talking for a period of time. This honestly has not happened to me in years.

On top of that my grandmother is still slowly dying in hospice. Her mind has now gone completely and she spends her waking moments crying for her mother to come and rescue her. She hasn’t eaten a thing in two days and the nurses say she has somehow forgotten how to drink liquid. It won’t be long now but I know that she is in agony. I love my grandmother and hate seeing her in this much pain. I only hope her pain will soon be over.

On top of that my grandfather is still an asshole. He has done nothing but make matters worse. Constantly saying he is going to get her out of hospice care as soon as he can and how much of a burden she has caused him when it comes to the bills. It’s all a lie and only meant to make people feel sorry for him. He loves control and this is just one more way that he believes he can maintain control over her life at least for a short time more.

Speaking of that, I have no idea how to reconcile the good memories I have of my grandfather with the new image of him that I have today. I spent summers at my grandparents and loved fishing, early mornings with my grandfather. We spent hours on the bank fishing for bass, crappie, catfish and carp; my grandfather had a special dough bait recipe that he has made for years which was magical when it comes to carp and catfish.

He also taught me how to haggle at garage sales and taught me a lot of what I needed to know when I was early in the ministry. Hell, I wouldn’t even have been a minister if it hadn’t been for my grandfather. I spent a huge portion of my life trying to make him proud which I think I did but now all of that time spent sickens me. I cannot believe that I held him in such high regards for so long after what I know and have witnessed the last couple of years.

To make matters even worse, I have just learned that I have severe sleep apnea. On Wednesday i went to the hospital for a split sleep study. For someone to be considered to have severe apnea they must have 30 or more apnea episodes, periods of the brain waking up for 10 second or more, in an hour. I had 67 apnea episodes. The person conducting the sleep study then hooked me up to a CPAP machine and I was out like a light. The two hours I was connected to the machine were the two best hours of sleep I can honestly remember. I woke up without a headache, something that never happens, and had more energy throughout the day than I have had in a long time.

Anyway, so now I am waiting to speak with my doctor and get my CPAP ordered. The person at the sleep study said that a CPAP wouldn’t just help me but was incredibly important for my long-term health. This has me a bit freaked out but to be honest the worst part is that knowing I can wake up without a headache has made my last few morning headaches ten times worse.

So anyway, I’m mad, I’m confused, I’m not sleeping well and I wish I could make sense of life. I’m hoping to get back into writing soon but the time for that, outside of this article, just hasn’t arrived yet. Maybe soon, but not at the moment. Thank you for bearing with me and your continued support.

Matt

The Diary Of My Mind · Uncategorized

Life Is Sacred With A Capital FU

I haven’t blogged in a few days and it’s because I have been angry. I wanted to wait a bit to calm down and collect my thoughts. My family is experiencing a tragedy and to make matters worse, my grandfather, the figurehead of religion in the family, is making matters much worse.

My grandmother is dying, I wrote about this a bit a few days ago but now I will expound upon that. She is dying from cirrhosis of the liver. Now my grandmother has never drank an ounce in her life, so when we found out that her liver we were pretty confounded. The doctors believe that she contracted Hepatitis C in the late 70’s/early 1980’s from a blood transfusion she received back then. My grandmother has also had several strokes which has left her unable to walk and take care of herself.

Her liver and kidneys have failed her, she is in constant pain, her body is filling with toxins and eventually she will pass away from Sepsis, hopefully sooner rather than later according to the doctors.  She is a strong woman and has regained consciousness since I last wrote. When family is in the room she acts strong, but the nurses have said as soon as the family leaves, she cries and begs for god to kill her.

To make matters much worse, my grandfather has spent the last two years trying his best to make her life a living hell. She needs 24 hour care, which she can get in a home, but my grandfather, a selfish bastard, takes her out of the home because he doesn’t want the state to take the small amount that they do from her social security check. In the past, when she was in the home she would get better, then he takes her out and she gets much worse within days.  During this stay the nurses and doctors found three fractures in her back that they believe she got from falling out of bed and not being taken to the hospital.

Anyway, the doctors recommended she be put into hospice which would at least make her last bit of time comfortable. This is also the only way that she can receive the pain medication she needs. My grandmother signed off on the hospice papers but my grandfather swooped in and claimed that she was mentally unstable and killed the hospice paperwork. She has been placed into a care facility until the 23rd when he will once again get her out and probably kill her this time.

I hate him… He was once someone who I respected. I wouldn’t even have become a minister if it hadn’t been for his prophecy and his pushing me throughout life. I always viewed him as a godly man and something to aspire to. Now I know that he is nothing but a disgusting narcissistic bastard who never deserved respect from me or anyone else.

With all of that said, I get to the point of this article. Life isn’t fucking sacred. Life is an absolute mess where you come into it shitting yourself and often leave it shitting yourself.  Life contains so much suffering I cannot possibly understand anyone who claims anything sacred to its workings. Life includes pain, anguish, depression, agony, famine, disease, murder, rape, and those are just to name a few of the awful things we can experience. What is sacred about those things?

Human life is obviously less sacred than the lives of our animal companions, since in most parts of the world it is against the law to choose to end your own life, even in cases where the cessation of life is the only thing to end the constant pain and agony that certain chronic conditions can leave a person in. If you went to someones house and their dog was in the corner, waling in agony from some chronic disease that will kill it, you would think that your friend was a monster if they didn’t take it and have it put to sleep. Yet, we don’t afford our sickest people the right to choose that for themselves?

I want to be clear, I am not advocating making the choice for someone else, this would only be an option in the most extreme cases. I could see allowing a family to make this decision for another, much in the same way that a family can choose now to pull the plug on a dying family member. If it is the most compassionate option, then it should be on the table. Why do we force sick and dying people to experience as much pain as possible before nature takes its course?

Life isn’t sacred, but there are good parts to it. The beginning and the end of life are fucking awful but yet there is beauty and wonder to life. I will always fondly remember the time that I spent with my grandmother growing up, the times I have spent with my children, the time I spend with Jennifer. Yet a large portion of life just sucks.

Anyway, I know I rambled a bit, I’m still upset about the whole situation but wanted to write something tonight. I promise to get back on schedule soon, but at the moment it just isn’t possible. Thank you for reading.

 

 

The Diary Of My Mind

Does Crying Physically Hurt You?

Oh how I hate emotions. Not so much the fact that my mind is almost constantly swimming in them, but the fact that I am so damn awful at expressing them. Along with ASD I also have SPD which, in the simplest terms, means that I am withdrawn from society and relatively flat when it comes to showing emotion. By and large I live a life of pretend even though I hate it. I smile and laugh, I frown and act upset when I hear something that is seen as sad but in reality on an emotional level I’m a blank canvas to the outside world.

When I do actually get to the point that my emotions break the surface they can be pretty severe in nature. Sadness actually makes the world seem dark and I might turn on every light yet still feel as if I am in a dark room. Anger can make me see red and I am likely to tear into someone with a verbal assault that I will ultimately regret for years afterward. The real issue though is crying…

When I cry, my whole body hurts. Is it that way for everyone? My back aches, my joints feel like they become a piece of welded steel, and my head pounds. The tear feel like daggers as they leave my eyes. Crying hurts so badly that I try my best to almost never do it. People say crying is therapeutic but to me it is horrible.

The other problem is once I start I have an incredibly difficult time stopping. I can at times bawl for hours and then all of a sudden it stops. I go back to my norm and you would be none the wiser that I had just spent the last several hours crying.

People believe that I have no emotions. That I’m cold, callused or heartless but in reality I just don’t understand the vast array of emotions. I understand the extremes but it is those pieces in between that are confusing to me. A lot of the time I am simply level, not really physically experiencing anything when it comes to my emotions. Mentally I might get stuck on the same thought for several days filled with the emotions of that thought. My emotions though are almost totally within my thoughts. I think with most people there are both mental and physical changes with emotions or at least it seems that way.

Anyway, yep…I hate emotions…