Humpty-dumpty

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The moment you reinterpet your life within the frame of your being autistic all things around you start falling apart. All things you have made, with effort and suffering, were attempts to cope in the wrong way with your failures, with your lacking capacities at sociality. So your friendships, that now you call “acquaintances” become meaningless to you, and you realize that you are alone. Of course you have always been alone, and you feel (I feel) that all these people with whom you had some form of intercourse accepted you in your faked aspect. The moment you don’t feel like faking anymore, they drop you and you have no more interest in them. There is no chance to go back to faking. Your fake self is shattered for good, like humpty-dumpty

As bad as it seems to sound isn't this a good thing? How do you feel about it, paolo?

When i came to the conclusion that paolo came to, i felt confused, left out in the cold. Everything i had strived for for so long was useless waste of energy. What had my life meant up to that point if i had nothing to show for the hard work and striving? Where did i go from here? Nothing i'd tried before had worked, so how in the world was i supposed to take this new outlook and make something work for me? It's hard to see the fake crumble around you. It's losing a protective shell in a way. That shell had never left you feeling great, but hey, at least it was familiar, it was safe in a way, and you'd felt good that u'd be trying and convincing yourself that you were getting somewhere. But that was WRONG. I hadn't gotten anywhere but depressed that i couldn't do better than that. So ya, it's a good thing to not be fake anymore, but still leaves you with, what now?

and all of that is such a blessing

No qualms. It was inevitable. You felt all along that you were camouflaging the acquaintance for something other. So you went on adding patches and strata. The more you did this the more you walked on a thin thread and you realized you were only a bad acrobat. And no safety net below except, perhaps some lucidity. Can we live on that?

Last edited by paolo on 29 Jan 2007, 3:53 pm, edited 1 time in total.

true, true.

Seymour Glass (J.D.Salinger character) = see more through the glass.

When I finally accepted my AS diagnosis (a couple weeks ago) my fake plastic world had already crumbled and I was alone as I had ever been. God I need to get out of this freaking city.

"A Perfect Day for Bananafish" was devastating to me when I first read it. Seymour Glass, though fictional, might have not committed suicide had he understood that he had AS, rather than Schizophrenia, as was believed. I had a dear friend whose own psychiatrist sister believed him to have schizophrenia when, in actually, I believe he had AS. It's actually kind of sad, isn't it, that there's such a stigma to being mentally ill or even having a Pervasive Developmental Disorder? Sorry to have gone off on a tangent.

BTW, thanks for sharing, everyone. I think it's a good thing, too. Like the song goes, "I gotta be me!"

P.S. Maldoror, sorry to hear about that. Denver's (Boulder, too) a difficult place to be when you're not one of those All-American Big Man (or Woman) on Campus types.

Good, so it's not just me then.

Naah, it's never just you, maldoror. I really loved those Rockies and wanted to make Boulder my home, but it wasn't the place for me 'cause I stuck out like a sore thumb. lol...

Boulder definately is not entirely what it seeks to portray itself as. But I have to take exception to your first statement; it has to be just me at least sometimes.

hehe, point well taken! Indeed... btw...your bird is cute!

Presumably J.D.Salinger was Seymour in a way, and also many characters of the “Nine stories”, and Caulfield himself. They all have the theme of others being phoney and them being forced to some sort of hermitage, with Salinger choosing absolute isolation and a monklike life, although with a wife. In one of the stories the main character falls in love with a nun, only to renounce her and declare “tout le monde est un nonne”, everybody is a monk.