Another song title – this time John Lennon’s, but one I have had pounding through my mind this weekend, in anticipation of today, when my partner spent the morning with friends and their kids. Continue reading “Jealous Guy”
I’m not sure why all of my blog titles come to me as a song title, but there you have it. Enjoy this Nat King Cole classic.
The point of it, though… Well these last few weeks have been hard – personally, yes, but also, and mostly as a result of which, within my relationship, too.
It seems, at every turn, another of my autistic traits comes under the microscope – or is placed on trial, depending on the context – and I find myself arguing in defence of it; a defence most often founded on the “but I can’t help it” principle. It holds little sway usually and it becomes apparent to me just what my poor partner is truly faced with.
On the face of it, at least, it appears that I am asking for a free pass to be infinitely selfish, unwaveringly rude and duly entitled to rant, rave, sulk and storm out as I see fit, all at the expense of his own feelings and any notion that he might be right and I, wrong. In truth, though, this is, of course, never the intention. In my own mind – and with my limited self-knowledge – I can piece together exactly how autistic traits lead me astray and into a dead-end minefield from which I cannot return.
To begin, I fatally misunderstand something he has said – because I have taken him too literally, and it doesn’t compute. Then I expend my energy on trying to make him see why I would take it literally. Usually I am adamant it could not be taken any other way. As such, it is either black or white. He either meant it the way I took it, or he didn’t mean it that in which case he shouldn’t have said it at all. There is, despite his protestations, never a shade of grey in my sights, in which he could have, of course, meant it differently to how I took it.
Once he has not backed down, though, or seen where I am coming from and why, then I am simply immovable from my position until he humbles himself and attempts to repair communications and my feelings – such is my stubbornness. Add to this a perfectionist level of expectation, and it is little wonder he feels he can never win.
That said, there are ways and means to combat this system, and if I can figure out how I work and what I need and don’t need, then so can he. Though he shouldn’t really need to, as he has been told multiple times.
But there, in a nutshell example, is evidence of how difficult I, personally, can be to live with. I am lucky to have someone in my life at all, and though, at the moment, he is not quite capable of supporting me through my condition – and especially not in episodes like the above example – it is enough for me that someone wants to try.
I will always be thankful of that at least.
I wasn’t going to soliloquise about my diagnosis and all of that.
I felt, perhaps unsurprisingly, that it would be of little interest to anyone else. We each have our own journey, after all – mine is no more fascinating than any other.
Something I read lately, though, has convinced me otherwise. It is, of course, important to speak. Communication is everything – an ill-fitting motto to adapt for someone with autism, but true nonetheless. And maybe, one day, something, somewhere, might genuinely help someone. I know I would never want anyone else to be in the position I have been in for most of my life.
So here goes. The bare bones, warts-and-all account of… Me, I guess. Continue reading “My Way”