Cruel indifferance

Some times the worst part about Asperger’s syndrome isn’t how it makes me feel or over emote. Some times it’s cruelest of all to me when an earth shattering event happens in my life. I know I should feel heart broken, saddened, devastated, inconsolable. but the vast landscape of my emotions are as dry and barren as the Serengeti.

My friend died last night around 2 am from brain cancer. I know I should feel something right now. I love my friends very much and in a lot of respects CJ could relate to me in ways that many people couldn’t. I know that I’m never going to see her again. I’ll never sit with her as she makes origami, and I knit during a craft night, I’ll never see her smile, or hear her laugh, or her delightful words of encouragement when I’m not sure of my self. I’ll take to the grave the memory that the last time I ever saw her she wanted to give me a hug and I was just not up for being touched that day.

I’ll always question if I was a good enough friend. when she was in the hospital, I couldn’t fight my way threw the emotional triggers of being in a hospital to go visit her. I couldn’t even make  single crane for her. All I could do was sit by the side lines and let her husband know he and CJ were in my thoughts.

I wish I could feel. I wish I could register in my brain the sensations and flood of emotions that should be occurring right now. But I’m unable to register the ‘normal’ or ‘appropriate’ spectrum of emotions that I know are what the situation calls for. And I don’t know what to do about it.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

uncomfortable conversations with your Goddess.

A little explanation is in order so people don’t get the wrong idea, or think this is weird. I worship the Greek Goddess of the hunt Artemis (amongst others but for the sake of this post Artemis is the Goddess who is important.) For some time I have been seeking some one, who is Pagan, or at very least tolerant of my Paganism and going to treat it with the same respect I do; to hunt me. Now mind you I’m not talking with a bow and arrow, or a rifle or any of that. To the outsider in truth it would most likely resemble an adult version of hide and go seek. Some people (the non pagans among your ranks mostly) may ask what purpose does being hunted by a female friend serve for me. Simply speaking it is a way to connect with that particular Goddess. Just as when I start working a forge I’ll be connecting with Hephaestus, or when I strategist, do arts, and protect those who can’t stand up for them selves I’m connecting with Athena. Well to be hunted is how I connect with Artemis. It’s sort of like my version of getting on my knees and having a silent conversation with an unseen astral person.

The tricky part is finding just the right person to help me with that particular religious connection. This may sound easy but it’s more then just finding some one to run around the woods chasing after me. It has to be a genuine hunt. I have to allow my self to become my most vulnerable to her, Then once captured I am taken to a safe place to be held in a symbolic forcing me to face my insecurities knowing that some one willing to speak for my Goddess has my back. And when I say speaking for my Goddess,  mean in the entirety of this religious purification I am seeing that person as the embodiment and personification of Artemis.   This means she has to know this, understand it, and respect it, because it is sacred to me.

A little while ago I found one person who fit the bill. She is pagan, she is extremely knowledgeable and I trust her completely. So some what tentatively I approached her and asked her if she would consider the undertaking of occasionally helping me with this endeavor. For completely understandable reasons she turned me down (conflict of deity homage issues.)

A week has gone by with out incident. How ever last night as I slept I was approached by Artemis. Normally she’s kind of vague about her intent, but in this one she made no qualms about it. She was upset with me. Not to the point that I’d lost her favor, more like.. scolding disappointed mom voice upset. I was unintentionally very rude to my friend because she would have been in violation to another cultures hunting Goddess… who would have been quite unhappy she was invoking another entity. I got a very strict ‘never do that again.’ I was further informed that if I ever do accomplish becoming my friends prey, that I would do so honoring her deity of choice, as a sign of respect for she who is hunting me. Should my friend read this I want to apologies to her with out revealing too much of her identity. I did not mean to be so rude

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

I know I worship them and all but….

Last night I had an experience that made me question if it would kill the Greek Gods to use an ode of subtlety, or at least be unsubtle in a way that would not bring me near financial ruin, and far too closer to meeting Lord Hades in person then I’d personally prefer this early in my life. Hermes (the God I prey to when I travel to see me safely to the place I’m going) last night decided to be less then subtle about making sure I learn a lesson about how scary the world out side of the window is. He threw me off the road and down a steep hill, and was good enough to stop short of smashing me against a tree in a deep water hole. I escaped unharmed, the right people came across me in a way that made the process relatively painless. The largest harm that came of it was mental. The willingness to step out side my door much less drive a two thousand pound bullet (much less an 80,000 pound one) is gone. I’m still going to try or the nightmares may never go away. One was so vivid that for what seemed like hours I was convinced I was laying in a field impaled by a fence post or tree amidst crash debris watching helplessly as the men and women silhouetted by flashing lights tried to figure out how to save me, and that making it thru the ordeal unharmed, and coming home to my own bed safely and talking to my friends again was all just an injury induced hallucination

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Funny dreams, How does thing work again?

So last night I had a dream. In this dream I had just gotten home from my first long road haul. My hair was long and completely unkempt I was rocking the father of all five o’clock shadows. I was so fresh from my first haul in fact that I stopped at Jackson from for the event on the way home. With my rig parked, and my uniform donned I started the mile long walk from the truck all the way back to cav camp. I had been noticed by the brigades three gal troopers simultaneously as I heard Alisha, Jess, and Tabetha all squeak out ‘Johnny!’ in perfect unison. and then the epic group tackle hug happened. This was followed by the observation that I needed to shave, and a good hair combing. To much protest from my end, some one produced a shaving mug and brush and a a razor and a comb. Alisha handed them over and I tried to play coy. “How do I use this thing again?” This was responded to by Tabetha. “This can go one of two ways… you can shave, or we can do it for you.  Think wisely before you answer.” So begrudgingly I quickly took to shaving my self. I started to try to comb my hair out but thankfully Jess who was used to having long hair where I was not grabbed the comb and said ‘here.’ I felt a little bit stupid but at least by the end of it I looked like a relatively decent looking human being. I asked every one if they wanted to see what’s been keeping me away from the brigade for so long and it was generally agreed upon that a ride was needed because it’s been too long. Tab asked Tim if she could ride Joey, and A friend of the unit William was asked if Steven could ride Bullet. Every one was mounted up and I lead the way out to the semi-truck parked in the far back corner of the spectator parking area. It was a gorgeous International Cascadia  I had a lot of civil war related art taped on the wall, and the sleeper cab was kept neatly.  There was some jokes made, and by this point the dream was starting to fade. But the little bit I can remember of it makes me smile.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do

Today I’m heart broken. It’s a necessary heart break. My best friend in the world for the last 5 years is an indomitable source of strength to me. This is a woman who on some level I have loved her more then words could express since the day I’ve met her. I say this with out fear of what her boyfriend will think because I know him, and he’s an awesome dude, and he knows my bond with Tab. I know he understands that by love I mean that I love her on a level where I can’t imagine life with out her in it. That I am her Johnny, and I always will be, just as she is and always will by my Tabetha. She’s a woman that has never been selfish even once in the five years I’ve known her, she has given, and given, and asked for nothing in return, and yet tonight she admitted to me she wanted to be. The fact that my absence necessary as it maybe for the next year, drives her to tears. That was heart wrenching. I’ve seen this woman cry exactly twice in the few years in which she’s been a major player in my life. The first time she did it was the result of a person who I honestly am glad I was prevented from going after, because that would have ended poorly for every one involved. The second time was just this past July, and that ended in her spilling out of her saddle into my waiting arms. (she was in pain like a lot of it and I was there to catch her.)

This next year will be as hard on me as I know it will be on her. I will do every thing in my power to fight and see to it that I get to at least a couple of events if I’m able, and I won’t tell her I’m coming, because I want to see the expression  of joyful shock on her face when I walk up to her and give her that timid ‘I missed you’ smile. I will miss the late nights, where I can’t sleep, she knows it, and comes out of the tent for a few minutes to sit with me at the campfire. I’ll miss the early mornings where I hand her a cup of coffee with sugar and creamer in it just the way she likes it, and tell her ‘you look very pretty this morning Petey’ and she gives me that ‘hush you’ smile as she glances over the coffee cup at me between sips. I’ll miss coming back to camp exhausted after the battle, helping her tend to Diamond, and then we collapse on opposite sides of her saddle and share it as a pillow for a little cav nap. I’ll miss most of all above each of these the times where I seem to be the only one who can read her. So I’ll walk into her tent, knowing she’s feeling ill, and feeding her gatoraid and water in short sips and just sitting with her soothing back her hair to be of some comfort, and when she looks at me knowing she’ll say “I want you to go away and leave me alone I don’t want you to see me like this.” and I’ll respond with the ever vigilant. “And you know just like every other time, that I’ll do that once I am satisfied that you’re ok.” And then she’ll skulk at me for a moment before relenting.

The things that will get us threw this year. Tabetha is never far from me. In fact she occupies that little spot roughly the size of my fist in the center of my chest. She’s living rent free there eternally. On my really bad days. I’ll take a moment, breath in deep, and imagine her smile, and concentrate on the memory of how she smells when I hug her, and suddenly just like that, I’ll be better. I know that she has a particularly fond thought of me that she’ll cling to in her really hard times when she needs me, and if she can’t do it with out the sound of my voice, she knows my number, she knows to call, and I know that if I needed to talk day or night and I didn’t… she’d kick my butt next time she saw me.

We can’t choose who we love, we can choose how we love them. For me love is a universal emotion, and one that I’ve felt in abundance for certain people. Tab is my safe place, my harbor in a storm swept sea, the person who can pull me out of a panic attack just by squeezing my hand and telling me that she’s the only one there.  This year that I am on the road making my self financially solvent will be the hardest year of my life. I’m undergoing it so that I can continue to be the Johniest Johnny that she needs me to be. Some people are worth going through the hard times for.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

An open letter to my Mounted trooper

You once asked me how I’m usually very happy even when people (often that I’m close to) openly treat me like crap, (often with out realizing that’s what they’re doing.) It’s because I look at the world (when I’m brave enough to go out and experience it first hand) threw proverbial built in rose colored glasses. I choose to see the best in people, and situations. Even if the experience or the person suck mostly all together. With out fail I find (even if I have to stretch the reality of it all,) the good in every thing. My bum knee, own migraines, tendency to be flooded by the emotions of others, and the fact that most of my nerve endings were fried by a very sudden growth spurt when I was young? Yes I suffer from all these things but it hasn’t been with out merit or benefit.

My knee makes me more empathic towards people with limited mobility, and often helps me brighten some ones day, or make their day a little easier. Because of my migraines I’ve learned to look for the indicators when you’re starting to have one, and I’ve learned mechanisms to help my dearest friend get threw those difficult times. (Usually this involves keeping people from crowding you at events and doubling my efforts for taking care of Diamond on the picket line and taking care of your tack for you before and after the battle, one less thing for you to worry about.) The flooding I suffer from others emotions. It makes people more comfortable by my presence. It doesn’t happen all the time, and as I get to better know people, I learn more efficiently how to shield my self, and manage that butter zone in between ‘just what they need’ and ‘that’s just too much for me to handle.’ My nerve endings (more specifically my pain receptors were fried when I was younger, when I shot from roughly 5’1” and 100 lbs. with rocks in my pockets to 6’1” and 150 lbs. with rocks in my pockets in a little under a month and a half. The constant growing pains and shin splints made me pretty much numb to all but the worst of pain. This allows me to do things that a person with average pain resistance just wouldn’t do. Though in fairness I probably shouldn’t be doing them, your brain tells you not to do those things for a reason.

The good doesn’t negate the bad. The good is simply what I choose to emphasize on. Yes my knee occasionally screws up, and makes me not get as much enjoyment out of a given situation as I normally would. Yes my migraines hurt to an unspeakable level and I just want to curl up into my own little blanket fort and not be bothered, but this passes, and when you suffer from it. Yes I over work my self and ignore my own well being and can take my self out of action really quick. But this is never a down side to me. You’re my best friend in the world, I love you, I’ve done it before and I will do it again with out hesitation when the need arises. My tendency to be flooded by the emotions of others, can be terrifying, and traumatic. I have been laid up for days from the emotional back lash because of it, but again this only tends to happen when it needs to happen, when people are at their worst emotionally and need a hero. My pain tolerance can be a horrible thing if I don’t manage it properly. I could be badly wounded, recognize the wound, and choose to ignore it to my own detriment. (I’ve only done this twice because the situation called for it.)

So there’s my secret, for your consideration. Use it if you wish, and know I’ll always be here for you with a great big hug when you need or want one. After all when I get married to that very special some one. You’re my best person.

Love always
Your dismount/Your Johnny.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Depression and realisation

First I want to express that while I know there are those of my friends that will instinctively worry about me when they read this. Please don’t. I’ll be ok, yes it’s tough but it’s not a new fight to me, and while I may let it get me down, I don’t let it get me out. Now that I have said that….

“Stab me again the pain lets me know that I’m still here, that the vast and grey and murky depths haven’t consumed me, causing me to be the nothing that I feel like on a nearly daily basis.” That’s really what I’m some times saying when I tell my friends that I’m happy for them when they regale me with stories about their happy love lives. I know that it’s not what they mean to do, I know it’s not their intention to jab me with tiny invisible daggers, and for them, I hide my pain and strife. It’s never really all that clear when I’m going to be angst, sad and depressed over my destitute singleness. So incase you’re wondering no I don’t always feel that way when you share about your happiness. Nine times out of ten I am genuinely overwhelmed with happy for you and please don’t stop sharing just because you know that some times it’s jabbing me with an invisible knife and then rubbing salt in the brand new wound with all the gentle caress of a fire ant as it bites and nips at a restrained victim.

“Words cannot express how much I want to punch you for saying that right now, so I’m just going to go with this trusted stand by.” Is what I’m really saying most of the time when I’m told “I don’t see why you’re complaining? Being in a relationship isn’t really all it’s cracked up to be, I miss being single;” and I respond with “I suppose but it just doesn’t feel that way to me.” or when I respond with “That is easy to say for some one who hasn’t been single for their entire adult life.” More importantly when you say those things in response to my state of depression over being single, you use those words to address my fears that I will die alone. You express a complete devaluation of the very real pain and fears I’m feeling in that moment. In the same breath, you taunt me with that which I desire and then throw it into oncoming traffic only to get obliterated by an oncoming semi-truck by saying that you don’t even want your relationship that you’re in, that you feel constricted by it. It makes me want to scream at Olympus, demanding answers from Cupid and Aphrodite them selves why they waste the gift of love on people like you.

(Sarcastic voice) “Ohh yeah let me get right on that whole over coming the crippling fear and social anxiety. I’ll just magically pull the ability to breath in large crowds and meeting new people out of my ass.” Is what I’m really saying when I give a dismissive response of any nature to your suggestions that I just go out to new venues and try to meet people. Yeah because it’s not like I have never actually tried that before. It’s not like I know how my body is going to react because my mind starts to evaluate every nightmarishly horrible scenario that could play out in the new place that I’m experiencing. No matter how unlikely or implausible those scenarios might be that are playing out, the abject terror that I feel because of them are very real, and I want to curl up into a ball and cry. Little secret, some times I do, and if you think not being able to talk is unattractive to most people? Just imagine what crying, in a corner, in the fetal position will do for your dating credibility.

“I don’t waste my time on lost causes” is what I hear when you refuse to assist me by possibly introducing me to a friend that’s single. Yes your motivation maybe to help me by forcing me to wade into the waters of the dating pool alone. But I wouldn’t be asking you for help in the first place if I didn’t think I needed it.

I’ve reached that stage in my life where I’ve come to a sort of depressed acceptance. I will most likely die alone many years from now. Statistically your ability to find a compatible partner after the age of thirty drops drastically from where it was in your mid twenties. When you couple that with not being able to go to the normal dating scenes because my brain literally makes my body shut down in that environment. The chances of me ever finding some one out side of my existing friendship circle is ridiculously low. I wouldn’t be surprised if the actual number was literally 1 in 3 billion or so. So that’s said, I feel better some what. I got it off my chest, moving on.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment