Feeling empathy for inanimate objects

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It has been said that people with Asperger often identify more with inanimate objects than with things that are alive. I think, whoever said it, missed the reason "why" this happens. They are probably assuming that people with Asperger are like robots so they identify with robots. Nothing can be further from the truth. In my case, what happens is that I identify with the weak. Inanimate objects happen to be weak, thats why I identify with them.

That doesn't exclude people, by the way. To give you an example, over 10 years ago, the girl I dated was really sick due to losing blood as a result of her PCOS. So this time I took lots of care of her and this drew us both together. When she was no longer as sick, fights started that eventually broke us up. When she was breaking up with me, she said "find yourself a girl that is permanently ill" -- since thats the only time I don't act selfish. Even though I wouldn't say its as bad as she made it sound (at least I hope not), I think there is an element of truth to it. When someone is sick, I think of that person as a victim, so I feel bad for them and want to take care of them. When they are not sick, I see myself as a victim (since I have Asperger) so I act all selfish.

But, in any case, back to inanimate objects, those are the ones that are "permanently sick" as she put it, thats why I feel bad for them. To give you an example, after my mom moved to a new house about a year ago, she started to keep the soap on a thing that has duck's nose and eyes on it. I can't help but feel bad for that "duck" that it has a soap in her eyes the whole time. I mean, if I were to get a soap in my eyes, I wouldn't stand it for more than few seconds, but this poor duck has to endure it for months on end, until I finally visit my mom -- and then the first thing I would do would be to wash the soap out of its eyes and lay the soap in such a way that it doesn't touch them. But then again, even when I am here, my mom would put a soap on her eyes each time she is using it, so I would have to keep fixing it again. Just how bad would I feel if I had to endure that soap for so long! Sometimes I wish my mom were to throw a party with lots of people, and preferably lots of kids. Then I would just hide that duck somewhere and then take it with me once I leave, and that way I would save it from ever having to endure it again -- and she wouldn't know it was me due to all those people at the party that might have done it. But I know this won't happen since my mom's house is a mess, which she never had time to clean up after moving there a year ago, so she is too ashamed to invite anyone over. So I am not sure what to do.

But anyway, the point I was trying to make is that I feel bad for this duck "not" because its "inanimate object" but rather because its "weak". And there is a good reason why inanimate objects are weak. They are the ones that are being neglected, just like this duck is neglected. Would anyone put a soap in the eyes of a real duck? I don't think so. Well, maybe THATS why the toy-duck gets more of my sympathy than the real one.

Although I would feel bad if I were to see real one being killed for food. By the way I am strongly against the animals being killed in the shelters, which is another good question by the way. I guess I can see why they kill dogs (although I won't agree with it either) since street dogs can be dangerous. But why kill the cats? Its totally beyond me.

I am very careful with things that I feel are special. It is as if they are real people. And using a machine, I can tell when it is having a hard time or not. It is why in the days of rigid mountainbikes (Before suspension) when I used to compete in mountain bike racing I did well in it because I could keep a quick pace but would also be looking after and caring for my bicycle. I would be always "Reading the terrain" which is a term used years ago for finding the route through the mud or rocks which was the best to use so one would not get stuck or ruin ones bicycle. Also when racing rigid bikes (Even suspension mountain bikes) ones body is the greatest weight, so to look after ones bike one has to ride it using ones own lwgs and body as suspension to absorb the poundinb instead of the bike doing it. We also used to have a few tricks up our sleeve in both the mechanical aspects of the bike set up and the riding aspects where I used to impliment the "Force steer" technique to get myself round corners quicker, and we would ride a wide front tyre but narrow rear and would choose the tyre treads carefully, often reversing the rear tyre to improve performance... The rear tyre would be a narrow one so it would grip in the mud as wide tyres just float across the top and don't grip when Welsh clay type mud is concerned... Also used to use 6 speed freewheels in the clay type mud of South Wales because 7 (Or more) cogs on the rear would not give the cluster the ability of freeing itself if the chain was coated in mud. The only time I had to pull out a race was due to using 7 speed cassette which the 7 speed cassette was new out in those days (6 speed cassettes had been in earlier but were found to be weak). I changed back to a 6 speed freewheel and no issues whatsoever! Of corse, riding in a less muddy trail one can cram in more gears... We would adjust accordingly...
But looking after the bike and oneself were the priority, and I was naturally doinb this as it was like the bike was my friend. It was not a thing... It was more then that. So much more!

I used to think that puddles in the street shivered when it was cold.

When I was a kid and I'd get a new toy, I'd think how happy it must be to finally have a home.

I've watched too many Toy Story movies, and I know I don't believe that objects (not just toys) physically come alive, I do however think that objects have the same feelings than the toys in the Toy Story movies do, like emotional attachment, panic, fear, sadness, etc. So if I throw a tattered pair of socks away, I imagine that all the other socks in the drawer are grieving for their lost friends, and the discarded socks are feeling frightened. To avoid becoming a hoarder, I have to be really strong, tell myself that these objects do not have any kind of a conscience, put them in the bin and get on with my life. But I still can't help feeling anxious about it afterwards. I'm just scared that one day I might give in to my empathy for objects and actually hoard everything to keep it safe.

All this empathy for objects doesn't mean I feel less empathy for humans and other living things though.

I was in a particularly bad spot at the age of sixteen as I had no idea that autism was a thing...never mind the fact that I am autistic. Antiquing seemed like the "forbidden fruit" because I thought that people would think I was effeminate for it. But antique phonographs had been intriguing to me since I was about four or five years old--the big old-fashioned that play without electricity.

The local antique store had a big Edwardian-era upright Victrola that I'd spotted through the window...and for nine months I was haunting the place. It's now here four years after its restoration, and I played it this morning several times...still sounds great!

And I have restored typewriters to keep them from landing in the dump or having their keys cut off for a craft project...

Same with fountain pens and old gold watches, which lead a perilous existence among both scrappers and steampunkers,

And the rest of the phonographs that soon followed the Victrola into my room. (You know, it's not a sissy hobby. You practically bathe in grease and kerosene when you change the springs out, and one must be fairly robust to reload the springs into their barrels. I watched a 1909 Edison barrel smash a watermelon with the force of its internal springs. Tough stuff! And besides, I have a classic black-iron sewing machine to exercise my household skills upon. Sewing is harder than it looks but I love it.)

I have never had an attachment to objects. Never thought of them as any kind of being or whatever.

^^that means you’re not autistic

You’re an undercover NT in disguise.....

things are my friends, my musics are my best buddies

I had one special toy I had as a kid, a dog-toy that was named Fooksa, but I would often abbreviate it as Fooka. Iwould take it everywhere with me. When they would give me to eat I would remind them to give that toy too. And I kept feeding it myself as well. There were a few times I was losing it and then it took several hours to find it but I would never quit till I found her. One of those times I lost that toy in the middle of the forest and my mom's friend found her for us -- I don't know how she did it, and yes it took several hours, but she did. But yeah that toy went with me literally everywhere. I once went to the hospital because I was sucking on a grass that I accidentally swallowed and it got stuck in my throat so I needed surgeries to get it out. So when I was there, they said that toys made out if that kind of material weren't allowed -- I guess some kids might be allergic or something. My mom managed to persuade them to make an exception and let me keep her.

There were a few other toys I similarly taken care of, although it wasn't for as long time. There was a girl toy Sonya and a monkey toy Tyapa. I actually had them long before I had dog toy but I don't remember too much detail since I was really little. I think there was some story about Tyapa like either it came from my .oms friend or was named after her, I don't remember any more. In any case, I was feeding them just like I did the dog toy and would remind my mom to feed them as well. But it didn't go beyond my feeding them.

Also there was one boy toy Vasya my mom took from kinder garden that her friend was working in, she took it for a short time but I kept insisting it stays with me. My mom finally told me it would stay with me under the condition I take good care of it, and when she felt like I didn't she would threaten to take it back to the kinder garden. I don't know why she did it, given that I was real good in taking care of the other toys, so I am not sure what is it she was trying to teach me. But I know it stated with me. Its not there now, though, so I am guessing they gave it back when I became way too old to notice.

And then there was a toy I called "czar" that looked either like a tank or a castle I don't remember which one. I know it didn't look like a person though so I am not sure why I treated it like it did. But, unlike all the other toys, it was physically possible to put a food inside it so that's what I did. Then the food would rot so my mom wanted to take it out, but I would say "please don't kill the Czar" (I was thinking he would die out of starvation of she were to do it) so she had to find ways to take the food out when I was not around.

But yeah, back to your point, I very much did think of my place as the toy's home. I remember a few months ago I read how kids are greedy and as an illustration they pointed out how they want to keep the toy's to themselves. So I was like wait a second, it's not greed, it's the worry that the toy would be mustreated or feel lonely.

Yes, I've definitely always been this way. Buildings and cars always seemed to have moods/emotions/spirits/souls to me. Can't read people, though.

whatever happened to Fooksa?

We moved from Russia to the US when I was 14, but we still have apoartment in Russia (I am dual citizen) so Fooksa is probably in that apoartment somewhere. My mom wondered about it too at some point and said it would be nice to find her since she is historic.

i hope you and Fooksa can be reunited soon

Actually, this is the reason why i am a hoarder.

But I found a real neat solution: I rent a storage room so I put most of the things I hoard over there.

The exceptions are the cat-cards that I treat as if they were alive cats. I don't like putting them in storage since I feel like they would feel cold/neglected there. Although when I go visit my mom for school break I "do" put them in storage. I am just afraid what if, after school break, my mom decides to come to my place with me, and sees the cats in my room and will think I am weird. So I put them in storage when I visit my mom; but, other than that, they stay in my room.

But as far as everything else I hoard, they are in the storage and I am okay with it, since those things aren't resembling anything alive, just things I feel bad throwing away.