Brunch for two! – soggy fries, fresh salad, and chicken wings!
Fancy macaroons! – Lucy approves, of course.
Mumma, why can’t I have any chocolate? Momma says, chocolate is bad for doggies, so you may have a green lipped mussel treat instead!
The Molton Brown box.
Someone I was close to in my former life used to say that it is most important to engage in ‘networking’ – gathering around oneself a collection of useful people with talents and abilities that can render practical support, as well as appear ‘socially appropriate.’ Well, despite her having spoken with such disdain about my little motley collection of friends, comparing them most unfavorably next to her own ‘network’ of wealthy so-and-so types, she has now resorted to ingratiating herself with my eclectic, ‘socially inappropriate’ lot, after I walked away from the entire scene. I guess one such as her can never have too many willing hands to hold, ready ears to listen, and practical services to offer. That’s fine by me, really, if she is in such dire need for attention and affirmation, and if my (former) friends are unable to see the wood from the trees, she deserves them and they her.
The Butcher Box has arrived! I am overwhelmed, but Lucy is pleased.
Beef bone broth.
Cutting up the ribs for dehydratiing
Doggy biscuits. Beef bone broth. Dehydrated ribs. Freezer choking full of meaty delight. Senses overwhelmed. Body disintegrating. Collapsing in a wobbly heap on the floor, no tears, just dazed and faint. Fading, melting, leaking slowly down the sinkhole of executive duties, into the abyss of mocking dysfunction. Continue reading →
Dark eye circles. Deep crevices under droopy eyes, squinting from exhaustion and lack of sleep. Jaws clamped so tightly the head throbs from the pain. Beside me, my Angel tosses. She sighs loudly and shudders. It is not cold. She whimpers and shakes in her dreams every night these days. She never used to do so this often. She licks herself far too much these days, she licks the sheets in her sleep. Lick, lick, lick. We are both weary under the constant sensory assault of noise. Noise along the corridor. Noise emanating from the rooms. Sudden explosions from slamming doors which rattle and shake everything inside our little abode. Shrieking, screaming, laughing. Loud music. Even as I type right now, there is cackling piercing the air, coming at us through the flimsy building materials that merely visually separate our private space from the public cacophony. Continue reading →
Crispy noodles – leftovers from last night’s dinner.
Cream of mushroom and celery with feta cheese bits.
Sleeping Angel of Calm and Comfort
Chromatic aberration of a different dimension. Multiple X-rays in the morning. Then the Rheumatology clinic. Throbbing headache – was it the radiation or the combined sensory assault of the strange environment, sonically and visually disturbing whirring machines, flourescent light and gasping for fresh air in the stuffy waiting rooms? Maybe it was the $500 total bill?
Lucy – my only one constant. Calm. Tranquil. Trusting. Faithful. Warm vanilla. Sleek black silken velvet. Beautiful serene elegance. Deep amber eyes. My sensorial oasis in the dry, crackling, electrostatic riddled desert highway. There she was, lying in the corner by the chair, in the waiting room, in the imaging room, in the rheumatologist’s consultation room, wherever I was, there she would be. Continue reading →
We survived yet another brutal night. (Yes, I know, so many autists across the spectrum have problems with sleep. I’ve always found it difficult to fall asleep, and I sleep very lightly, such that the slightest change in the environment could wake me up abruptly. I remember becoming very upset in my childhood when I was asleep and felt the presence of my mother (or anyone else) standing over me – I could sense the change in the air, as if it had suddenly become ominously more dense, and be filed with irrational fear, then irritation at having been so rudely disturbed.) Last night, beginning at around 9pm and going on till well past midnight, a group of people congregated again at the studio rooms just outside my unit. Once more, I was subjected to a show of neurotypical social power – nothing personal, really, merely a reminder of the rule of majority over minority, but the consequence (for me) in this instance was a harsh one. Continue reading →
(It’s a non-verbal day for me today. Lucy will be my ‘voice’ for this post, she has a better talent for being positive.)
I love early morning walkies!
Good morning, everybody! This morning, I met a very kind and gentle old man. He was cleaning the rubbish bins downstairs. His name is Rafael, and I like him very much. Mumma said my bum was doing a boogie as my tail wagged vigorously, and I made Greyhound chattering sounds. All I knew was this man is a good human and I wanted to jump up and kiss and hug him! I don’t do this often, but some humans are special, aren’t they? Mumma must learn from me, she says, because I pick the good ones better than she can! 🙂
I like staring at the racetrack and spotting the horsies…
Mum says, sometimes, I am a Stubborn Greyhound…
Actually, I’m just independent-minded, and mum says that’s ok, so long as I obey when mum insists…
I also like playing “spot the kitty” – can you see?
I love our new home very much. There’s lots to sniff at, so many places to go walkies in, plenty of green grass and clean pavements, and rats and possums and even kitties too! Mumma is happy that I am happy. Mum even tells me I do good poops these days! She gives me a treat every time I do a poop. I wonder why mum is so bothered about poop? Continue reading →
My very first full meltdown in five years happened yesterday. It was after a very long and distressing day. I felt caught inside an insidious web of deceit and manipulation, spun out by one very clever pathological liar, and at the same time pressed against the burning furnace by having to mop up someone else’s mess.
So, here it is. An expression of my own need to vocalise, as well as a reflection of how the autistic mind can become tangled inside a web of deceit that may be simple to the neurotypical mind. It is not a complaint or rant against another person, even if that person is so very very wrong. It is also not meant to derogate people with mental disorders. Quite the opposite. But at the same time, we must never use our struggles as excuses for harming others. If you have a child or friend who is autistic, this might give you an insight into our approach to goodness, kindness, our fallibility, vulnerability and quite alarming lack of neurotypical Theory of Mind, yet hopefully, you may witness some of our strength and perseverance too. Continue reading →