the forlorn breakfast

the forlorn breakfast

It’s one thing achieving clarity of mind on an intellectual level, but another thing acquiring the skill to act upon it.

The onslaught from the Extreme Neurotypical is relentless. Every corner I turn, he is there, being friendly and pushing right into my personal physical-mental-ehtical space. Stand and fight back? Or retreat? When to fight back and how? When to retreat and how? I am exhausted. Driven to despair. Well almost. I am not deliberately trying to be too dramatic, but really, for me, probably because of my hyper acute senses, it is a surround-sound, full technicolour, 3-D drama rivaling any Wagnerian epic, pyrotechnics and olfactory assault thrown in!

Last night was another anxiety riddled little evening. I shudder even to recount it in my mind. The strong multi-tentacled force of intrusion – badgering on and on and on, to achieve his own agenda. I ran but there was nowhere to hide. The insidious nebulous branches curled around my other housemate, relentlessly asking questions, digging for information, weedling, tweedling, burrowing, kneading. That wouldn’t have been my problem at all, were it not for the fact that the purpose for all this was to achieve an end that would inevitably put me at a great disadvantage – not just a whole lot of legal wrangling (even though the law may be on my side, the personal cost of fighting is too great for me to attempt) but also perpetuate the social nightmare that has taken hold over my home life. NO! I lay in bed unable to sleep, choking and nauseous from the stress of having just run away from an indefatigable bulldozer. Fortunately, I have Lucy. Her huge greyhound butt was indelicately planted smack next to my pillow. The task at hand of moving a sleeping greyhound’s giant butt was a pleasant distraction – it also made me laugh, which helps heaps. I am so glad I have a hound to hug in bed. If not for her, I’d be reaching for a chemical to help ease the mental torture. 🙂

OK, I know the description of my ongoing battle is rather sketchy. But do you really want the gory details? Nope. You’d probably prefer a visual image of my scraggy breakfast instead. So there it is. A humble, rather sad and confused, bacon, egg and cheese on toast breakfast.

Today is a new day. Keep on going, Aspie Bunny! It’s a harsh world out there. But I’ve come this far, I’m not going to let the Extreme Neurtypical’s survival tactics overpower my own – skill to do comes from doing, so they say, practise makes perfect. This is practise indeed! And I mustn’t give up or give in!


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