What does a Foodie Aspie Bunny do when in the throes of insidious depression triggered by manic turbulence created by off-kilter humans? Cook. Eat. And hug the beautiful velvet silk warm vanilla Greyhound!
Yesterday’s gustatory panacea: Chicken and veggie quickie-stew, Chinese style, with oyster sauce. The veggie from last Thursday’s Thoughtful Foods box is still very good. I cut up two carrots, one radish, and an apple to throw into the bubbling mix. Oh, and the second helping came with microwaved mini pappadam. My Princess waited ever so patiently while I ate. She is a foodie too, like her mummy, but she never bothers me when I eat my meals. Unlike other dogs I’ve known, Lucy doesn’t sit around and beg. She will just lie in her bed (or my bed) and watch me, sleepily. No matter what the situation, my Lucy always provides the tranquility in the midst of nauseating turbulence.
I hate turbulence. I have never understood why people would pay good money to shake themselves up in a variety of vertigo-inducing, turbulent activities. Bungee jumping, riding in roller coasters etc. The very mention of them make me feel unwell. Stress can also create mental turbulence. And for the Aspie, who thrives best on routine and predictable calm, turbulent situations are all the more horrifying.
When the turbulence is created by a human in an inter-relational drama, it becomes all the more cogent and toxic. Nobody appreciates being drawn into Wagnerian fiascos, but for an Aspie, the stress and confusion can be so much more pronounced. We process social situations differently, and guile and deceit are not easy for our linear minds to grasp, let alone complex personalities with a penchant for Wagner, who tend to be charmingly mendacious and instinctively duplicitous. Playing hopscotch on a bed of nails soaked with petroleum? Yes, the extreme opposite of the rigidly structured Aspie mind is the amorphous and wily person with Borderline Personality Disorder. Make no mistake, I am in no way demeaning people with psychological disorders, in fact, it is my deep empathy for such people that often lands me in deep turbulent water trying to help them, because my own neurological make up is unfit to deal with certain psychological anomalies. But more on that later. This post is about comfort in turbulence, not the cause of turbulence per se.
In my case, the Aspie taste seeker, my body reaches for succor in the form of food. And Lucy. Of course, my lovely Moxie Minx is a bulwark of strength by my side. It’s incredulous, to people who have never been loved by a dog, and who have never known the kind of unwavering support that a special dog can bring, that any human can be fortified by a relationship with a canine. But you only need to investigate the scientific studies on service dogs, the bond between human and canine, to realise it is not a figment of an overactive lonely human’s imagination. By the way, I am not at all lonely. I actually have too many social obligations, most of which I don’t even have time or energy to fulfill. I also have very close friends who care for me and who contact me almost every single day. Food, distant yet very present friendships, and my comforting obsession with my work all help to stabilise me in the midst of turbulence. Yet, nobody takes the place of Lucy.