#buggy is my little autistic friend

[kondoram]

heheh... litel clown funy 🤡

[minuy600]

LEGO On A Budget 2024 Intermission: A Couple Of The New Polybags

Remember when I bought this silly little thing?

Yeah, the amazing Kruidvat-branded bootleg handheld that looks like it was directly ordered from a provider to Temu or AliExpress. Well, that didn't paint the discounter store in the best light, did it? Let's change that with a more positive twist- their LEGO deals are pretty peak.

This is the only place in the Netherlands where i've seen polybags from the year 2024 so far. And as the title of 'discounter store' would imply, they were priced more gently than they would have been elsewhere. 3 bucks a pop! Now, these aren't alllll the polybags, there's a few more that I would appreciate to get so I can truly become the Budget Master (trademark), but this is a solid enough start.

As amazing as it is, My First Duck is out of the equation as a Duplo set. Here's the rest of them!

LEGO City - 30664 Police Off-Road Buggy Car

City, as consistent as clockwork. This is the only time you'll actually see the Police subtheme in my series, and it makes it count. Sorta.

It's 35 pieces, meaning it's easily the least substantial of the bunch, though it's really not all that bad. Hell, it compares favorably to some of the sets that it reminds me of. For one, the police motorcycle from 2005 came with only 28 pieces and was twice as expensive (it surprisingly being in a box probably had to do with it). And hey, it does drive rather nicely and comes with a somewhat uncommon minifigure torso as well as a completely unique 'wanted' poster.

For €3, you could do much worse. I would've liked it as a kid especially, I was never great with the big builds. Curiously, this was the one polybag to come with a vertical instruction manual as well. I'm autistic enough to notice that, hehe.

LEGO Friends - 30659 Flower Garden

Consider this a little preview of what will soon become a common theme on my blog. LEGO Friends is not something I really considered worth my time back in the day. I know, shock horror. But they always stood out negatively since they had the most brutal advertising, with a kid saying 'LEGO Friends' with the weirdest intonation possible. It's like when you would splice in a couple words from another sentence. Brutal.

So color me surprised when I say that I really enjoyed building this one. Clocking in at 64 pieces and therefore beating out the 4+ sets already, though about a quarter of them are already used on the petals of the sunflower. Doesn't matter too much.

The tulip is probably my favorite part, it required few pieces but the end result is very accurate looking. The sunflower is a lil hard to fidget into it's right spot, but is very flexible and that is always a lil fun. Overall, a nice addition to a bigger Friends playfield.

LEGO Creator - 30666 Gift Animals

Okay, so we can all generally agree that Lego Creator 3in1 is the best unthemed catagory for kids, right? They're affordable, rebuildable for a fair amount of time and generally look pretty nice as well. Plenty of sets that are pretty much just off-brand City or Friends escapades. Like this one, Gift Animals. With a whopping 75 pieces, it pretty much rivals what you could do with most sets I have covered as of late, for €7 less. LEGO On A Budget was MADE for sets like these.

The dog is the largest draw, of course. It uses up 71 pieces and is surprisingly very flexible. You can turn it's head so it can look like it's pleading at you with it's googly eyes. Same with the paws, tail and ears, they're all movable parts. I really dig that! It's a good build.

...Yet I should've built it last.

Can someone PLEASE explain to me what this is supposed to represent? I can only think of something among the lines of a bear cub or a weird different dog breed. I need answers! For that reason alone, it goes at the bottom of the Gift Animals tier list.

This is where the slightly disappointing reality set in, the other two builds only use like, two thirds of the available pieces. I mean it sorta makes sense, after all you can't really make 3 things with the same exact, rather obscure pieces. Still a small blemish, imagine if this little polybag would have more pieces used than the most elaborate €10 set. That'd be hilarious and sad.

The squirrel (right???) fares a little better. It's still not using a lot of the pieces, and it's the least flexible animal. On the flipside though, it's way more unique than whatever that previous alien was compared to the dog, and has a decent heft to it thanks to this mammal being a bit of a chonker. I like it a fair amount, gonna make it sniff at the Friends flowers in my little cabinet for this stuff.

And that concludes my escapades with the polybags for now. I'm surprised, really! These are well adapted for the price they are sold at, I would even argue that despite it's shortcomings, the Gift Animals set is a no brainer for the young'ins that don't have a lot of pocket money. Just don't forget that My First Duck will always be the peak of LEGO.

[sapphirebluephoenix]

SDHUGHJKDFHKSHTLUGSIUB INSPIRED TO WRITE THIS FROM ONE COMMENT IGNORE THE CHAOS, SPOILERS FOR MOST RECENT MULTIVERSE TALES EP OKAY LET'S GO

Jacob. Please. Have some self respect and dignity.

PFT-ASTRA IS CANON QUEER WE HAVE IT GENTLES AND LADYMEN WE HAVE IT SHE ASKED IF HEATH WANTED TO SHARE ISEWOHIGTJKDNGVDNISTHUIE GIU. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH CANNON QUEER LADY LET'S FUCKIN' GOOOOOOOOOO

Aww, Naseko. You're adorable.

Cousin. You lied to me.

Buggy (:

Oh yeah and Astra can control how much of her is dragonised! I want to draw this now.

Awww, cute little symbiote.

Hey. I've got my anger stuff handled.

THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS

Cousin. Some sort of slime-based lifeform has infected friend Ana. It was fascinating at first, but now it's made her upset for some reason. - YOU CANNOT TELL ME SHE IS NOT AUTISTIC. PLEASE. GIVE ME LE CANNON LADY TISM.

Nooo, Tayrun ):

IT'S SHARPIN' TIME!

Ey, I don't know if I'd ever say I was a full-blown supervillain, more a shady entrepeneur.

You are GETTING in my WAY, little CHIL-D.

I told you guys I had my anger stuff handled - Astra : that was so hot.

Astra is fabulous.

Skinner.

Scyth really be like *violence*

Pipsqueak.

I was right. That felt really good.

I still have very mixed feelings about Skinner. Sure, interesting character, but also... serial killer. Who probably did a lot of terrible things. So. |:

"Astra you-" - Astra you what?

"Why am I making him like this-"

Spreading this out.

To 25, because my brain is weird.

[honking-up-a-storm]

7/5/23

Oh it's even more dead than it was Monday, I guess everyone is all partied out. I'm not cuz I didn't do shit for the 4th. Though right now I feel a bit nauseous cuz I haven't eaten yet today. Last night was bad cuz of my period but I had that sick gut feeling that something bad was happening. Nothing came of it that I'm aware of, but it's been months since I felt it. So it was kinda startling. I know I blabbed on about how I'm not into other worldly shit, but IDK, my guy usually isn't wrong with that exact feeling of pure dread. It's been a few months since we've seen (Friend), rationally I know he's fine but that fight was absolutely brutal. If we had both just kept our cool [Friend] wouldn't have had to do what he did. It's scary watching someone fall like that. Don't fucking make that joke about the situation, oh my god why would I think that? Probably because it is a little funny with context. Let's just say that [friend] is good at pushing people out of his space like that. At least I made that joke now and not the minute after like {friend} did. Though she was being completely genuine saying it was a " Mario 64 moment" and it's funny bc she wasn't wrong tbh. Aside from my regulars who said that they'd be here today I really don't think I'm gonna have anyone today. Which is good cuz I don't feel good. Am I scared? I've been dreading seeing the security guard again, he left me alone Monday but I still have the whole summer ahead of me. I can't let my paranoia get the better of me I have to get mad and stay mad and stand up for myself. I mean that's what I told myself the last time I needed to confront someone who could physically harm me, and then I just froze. I always freeze. It's instinctual and it's dangerous. It's not logical for my body to think if I just stay still and stay quiet nothing bad will happen to me. Off topic but I'm wondering if I'm autistic again. And I feel bad cuz before when I was wondering out loud it probably sounded like I didn't want it/not open to the idea of having it/ thought it was bad/ ect when really I was just worried that if I was wrong id be invading that space on accident. But there's a lot of things about myself I'm cross examining with other autistic people that are making me think so. I know I'm feeling a hell of a lot better now that I've stopped masking a lot of things (though yelling in the middle of the city while vocal stimming might've been too much that one time) Paul Mccartney what the fuck are you doing here? Man it's only been an hour. Don't know why I'm surprised this usually only takes one hour. The lot is kinda filling up now. I should put my sunscreen on. Anyways right, Autism. Lots of things I did when I was younger kinda point to it; even though I was checked twice I don't think either count. The first one was in the 2-3rd grade and they were mainly focused on me just not falling behind, they didn't care about behavioral things bc I was a kid they thought I'd grow out of it. The other was primarily to get my ADHD diagnosis, he wasn't looking for Autism. So yes I fully believe I should get re-tested, no stupid online quizzes, I need an actual doctor who preferably has autism themselves to help me find out. I need to make a list of traits I've noticed so I can remember what to tell them.

Notes: Can people stop leaving thier cars running near me? It's already hot as shit today.

- I wanna steal that pretty green car over there, it would be easy the windows are down. It's probably a standard tho.

- Punch buggy dreams slightly restored, second time around it's easy to drive.

[cephy-the-squid]

Hug All Your Friends (And Let Them Know) Pt 2 of 2

AO3 Link Chapter 1

Summary: With all of his friends paired up into couples, Remus worries that Janus will expect them to be a couple in some way. Scared to lose his best friend, Remus tries to seduce Janus. After all, isn’t that what Janus wants?“Remus, buddy, are you decent?” Janus asked, knocking on Remus’s peeling, green door.

Relationships: Platonic Dukeceit / Demus, Background Platonic Roman & Virgil & Remus, Very Background Royality, Very Background Queerplatonic Analogical

Words: 1715

Featuring; Autistic Remus, Non-Binary Janus (he/they/xe pronouns), Non-SAM Aromantic Remus

TWs: Internalized Aphobia, Explicit Language, Fear of Abandonment, Attempting to Force Oneself into a Relationship One Doesn’t Want, Self Injurious Stimming

There was a moment of silence, in which Janus fiddled with the sleeve of his lavish gloves and lacy sundress. Janus briefly wondered if Remus wasn’t in his room. He was about to turn around and check the living room again, when his thoughts were interrupted.

“Why, Janny?” Remus crooned, in his very best attempt at salaciousness. He hoped Janus couldn’t hear him franitically scratching at his arms. “Is there something you want to see?”

Janus sighed.

“Ah yes, Remus. I would simply adore playing these little games with you right now. Of course I would simply love to see you naked. It’s not as if I just wanted to know if you’ve seen my bath bombs. That would be absurd,” Janus drawled, voice sticky with sarcasm.

Unfortunately, sarcasm was not something that a stressed Remus was very good at picking up on.

“Oooooh, so you really would like to see me naked!” Remus screeched. He hoped his sheer volume would hide his panic at Janus’s words.

“Remus, darling, can you please just open the door?”

Remus’s muscles were clenched up so tightly, they were starting to ache.

“Mhm,” he said, but his voice sounded strangled even to himself. He began to hum, the anxious stim coming out almost involuntarily.

Fuck not right now! He could do this. He didn’t need Janus catching on to the fact that he couldn’t love xem the way he was meant to.

Janus, hearing the hum, frowned in concern.

“Remus? Are you alright in there, Buggy?”

“Yes,” Remus yelped much too quickly.

Oh piss buckets. This was not going to plan at all. He and Janus should be making out already!

“Little Bug, I’m not sure I believe you. But that’s alright,” Janus quickly soothed, hearing a broken sob through the door. “It’s okay to be upset. Can you open the door for me, Stink Bug?”

There was no verbal response, but Janus waited patiently, knowing that they were likely dealing with an overwhelmed Remus, and Remus took much longer to process questions when he was overwhelmed.

After a moment of tense waiting, the door creaked open, revealing a very shirtless, very tear stained Remus.

Now the shirtless part was not unusual at all. Remus had a personal vendetta against shirts, frequently preferring to regard them as “Capitalist Tools of Oppression”. His disdain for them was well known, and it was often more rare for Remus to wear a shirt than to forgo one, especially around the house.

So no, Remus’s shirtless appearance was not unusual. But what was unusual, was the fact that Remus, with his arms wrapped across his body in a hug that appeared to be equal parts comfort and cover, seemed like he would desperately prefer to be wearing a shirt.

“Hey squidling,” Janus said gently. “Do you think I can come into your room?”

Though Remus was nearly 9 whole inches taller than Janus, he seemed to shrink into himself. The sight of this tall, muscular man, usually so loud and obnoxious, cowering over the idea of having Janus in his room would have been funny, if it wasn’t so heartbreaking.

Remus looked like he was going to cry.

“Oh Remus,” Janus soothed. Xe started to reach out, but jerked xir hand back when Remus flinched away.

This was not good.

Janus knew he had to choose his next words carefully.

“Do you not want me in your room?” xe asked.

Remus hesitated, then shrugged noncommittally.

“I won’t be upset,” Janus reassured. “We don’t have to go in your room.”

Remus opened his mouth, but immediately closed it and shrugged again.

“Is making discussions too hard right now?” Janus guessed.

He seemed to have guessed correctly because, though Remus certainly didn’t relax, there was a definite measure of relief on his face. He nodded swiftly, and then seemed to enjoy the motion of nodding and continued to nod his head rapidly.

“Okay,” said Janus, xir voice dripping with comfort and false calm. “I can pick. Let’s go to the living room.”

Remus relaxed marginally.

“How about you go put on a shirt, Little Rat,” Janus suggested. “You don’t look very comfortable.”

Remus hesitated for a moment, looking at Janus accessingly, running his hand over the shaved side of his mohawk. Janus wasn’t sure what Remus was looking for, but whatever he found caused him to release the breath he’d been holding in a loud exhale.

“How about I meet you in the living room?” Janus offered.

Remus looked at Janus for another long moment, before nodding slowly, and closing the door, presumably to put on a shirt.

Janus waited somewhat patiently for Remus to finish changing and come to the living room. It would not due to rush him when he was already stressed.

Janus sat down the soft sofa that Remus had brought with him when he moved in. It was a hideous shade of green that didn’t quite fit right with any of the other furnature in the house, but it was so soft and comfortable and so Remus that Janus was willing to bypass his usual classy asethetic.

Usually, when they sat in the living room Remus would sit on the sofa with Janus. In fact, Remus sat so close he was practically in Janus’s skin, often finding that being pressed against someone with a no-expectations arm around his shoulder was a very satisfying pressure stim. Even when he was upset, Remus usually preferred to be held, often finding himself understimulated rather than overstimulated.

This time, however, Remus sat straight-backed on an armchair, seemingly as far away from Janus as possible.

Clearly something was very, very wrong.

Was it something Janus had done? Had they hurt Remus in some way?

“Do you want to kiss me?” Remus asked bluntly, confusing Janus entirely.

At first Janus wondered if maybe this was a confession. People were known to get anxious about confessing their romantic feelings, and though Janus had never seen Remus date anyone before, his assumption that Remus was a-spec could certainly be wrong.

But with a second thought about the way Remus seemed to shrink when he asked, his voice so different from his usual boisterous confidence, Janus couldn’t help but think that wasn’t quite it.

“Do you want to kiss me?” Janus replied, avoiding the question in the hopes of gaining more information.

“It doesn’t matter,” came Remus’s reply, sounding for all the world like this was an indisputable fact.

Janus, usually not one to drown in sympathy, felt like xir heart was shattering.

“Oh, Stink Bug,” Janus comforted. “Who told you that?”

“No one told me. I just know.” Remus seemed confused by Janus’s worry, seeming to have never questioned these thoughts himself.

“Why would it not matter?”

“Because I love you,” Remus answered, as though that explained everything.

“Logan and Virgil love each other too,” Janus pointed out in an attempt at reassurance, “and they don’t kiss each other either.”

Remus mumbled something, too quiet for Janus to hear.

“What was that, Green Bean? I didn’t hear you,” Janus probed.

“And what if I don’t want that either?” Remus blurted.

“That’s okay too Squidling. I don’t need anything from you that you aren’t comfortable giving. I would never want that. I will love you in whatever way you want to be loved,” Janus soothed.

“But one day, you’ll get bored of that. Or you’ll find someone else who gives you the romantic relationship you actually want. The romantic relationship you deserve.”

“I might find a partner someday, and enter a romantic relationship, but that doesn’t mean I’ll love you less. Romantic relationships are not more valuable than platonic relationships,” Janus reassured. “You will always be my best friend.”

“Really?” Remus asked meekly, voice quiet, doubtful, and so unlike the Remus xe knew that it made xem want to cry.

“Of course, Stink Bug.”

“Even if I never want to kiss you? You wouldn’t get bored of me?”

“Oh course not, Squiddy. I can’t imagine anyone describing you as boring.”

“Yeah. More like demented!” Remus crooned with glee, a bit of his normal self coming back after Janus’s reassurance.

“Of course, Remus. Demented is definitely the word I would use. Certainly not creative and unique,” Janus said sardonically, casually signing the ASL word for sarcasm to clue Remus in on his actual meaning.

Remus wiggled happily, bounding over to the sofa, before screeching to a halt in an uncharacteristic moment of hesitation. Instead of his usual overwhelming eye contact, his eyes nervously darted between the couch next to Janus and xer lap.

Janus quickly latched onto Remus’s hesitance.

“It’s totally not okay to ask for what you want, Squid. Not like we just talked about having boundaries and desires or anything,” Janus prompted with a wink.

Remus hummed, but didn’t respond, bringing his hand up to gnaw on.

“Be careful of your wrist, Green Bean. Use your chewlery instead,” Janus redirected Remus calmly. “It’s all okay. You can ask for what you want. I won’t be mad.”

Remus bit down on his chewy squid ferociously, with a satisfying squeak that Remus could feel deep in his bones. He chewed for a moment while Janus waited patiently, absentmindedly fiddling with the corner of a gold pillow while keeping all of his attention on the man in front of him.

“Can I sit on your lap?” Remus finally asked after a few seconds, rocking up onto his toes. “Would that be too weird? Is that still okay, if I don’t want it to be romantic?”

“Of course it’s okay, Mus. Nothing has to be romantic unless you want it to be. It’s intent that makes something romantic.” Remus barely waited for Janus to finish talking before he was taking a running leap into Janus’s lap, knocking all of the wind out of his lungs with a mildly pained chuckle. Janus carefully wrapped their arms around Remus, one arm wrapped around his waist, while the other cradled his head and ran their hands through his hair, scratching his scalp in just the way Remus loved.

“I love you Remus,” whispered Janus, in a rare moment of pure vulnerability, “platonically and fully.”

Remus didn’t respond verbally, but the last remaining tension seemed to drain from him, and he sank bonelessly into Janus’s embrace.

[painted-crow]

Secondary Toast Revolving Door, Part 1

I guess I should start with a little about me, since that’s easier than making you pick through previous asks for information and some of you guys are new here. This one’s going to be heavily personal, so you can skip it if you want.

I’m a double Bird. My Bird primary system is heavily Badger influenced, and I also use Lion to support it by telling me when I should investigate something more closely. If we can dip into primary territory for a moment, I guess you can say I understand the world through systems that model things around me. But not all of those systems are things I’ve consciously examined, or fully investigated.

My understanding of how historical people dressed is pretty limited, for example, because I haven’t studied it in depth to get all the information—but I consciously understand what I do know about it. You could say this system piece is tiny but clear; I could expand it if I chose to find out more.

My understanding of how someone I’m not close to thinks might have more data to work with, but I haven’t consciously processed it; that’s the kind of thing where my Lion primary model will tell me to look closer if that person starts acting weird. This system piece might be described as huge but fuzzy; I could clarify it if I sat down and thought about it. I probably have more of these than I realize, but Lion basically takes care of monitoring those. I don’t have to investigate everything.

But some of my systems are both large and fairly clear, because I’ve taken the time both to gather data on them and to examine it. My understanding of myself is… well, I won’t say it’s terribly clear, because I’m in my early twenties and I’m still constantly getting new information, plus someone keeps changing the environment and mucking with my data (that would be me). But I have to examine it, because my brain is like a notoriously buggy piece of software and I’m the poor schmuck saddled with tech support duties.

Basically, the reason I’m good at playing therapist with other people is that I’m constantly doing exactly that thing with myself. (This probably makes me a very annoying patient for actual therapists.)

About that buggy brain, then.

I have major depression. That was professionally diagnosed when I was a teenager and it’s probably genetic. I take medication for it, when I remember to. It especially flares up in the winter or when I’m under stress. I probably have some kind of anxiety disorder too.

I’m almost certainly autistic, which I’ve never brought up with a professional—the first person to figure it out was the system I’m now best friends with, because they’re autistic and they knew I was within two weeks of talking to me. It took me two years to catch up with them and figure it out myself.

In my defense, I thought executive dysfunction, sensory overwhelm, dissociation, and hyperempathy were like… secret menu items for depression, because those only really bug me during depressive episodes. My current theory is that they’re related to autistic burnout instead.

I mask a lot, subconsciously—it’s actually really hard to turn that off normally—and I just can’t do that as much when depressed. If I do, my tolerance for everything else goes way down and I’ll go into overwhelm and start having shutdowns and dissociating. I recover pretty quickly (hours, not days), but if you’ve never spent 15 minutes standing in a Walmart aisle trying to decide whether you want a jar of peanut butter, but you can’t make decisions because you can’t access your emotions and you don’t really feel like you’re “here” but you kind of just want to go home… well, be glad I guess.

Of course, I have other autistic traits that show up when I’m not under stress, but they’re seldom associated with autism because most people don’t know what autis are like when we’re actually happy. Like, hyperlexia? That’s not even an “official” word, the auti community just uses it because “official” literature hasn’t caught up. I taught myself to read at age three (according to my mom; she says I was reading news headlines and stuff, not just books I’d memorized) and wrote a 35k word novella when I was ten, with no external prompting. My audio processing used to be terrible, but I routinely tested at college age reading levels as a kid.

I also might have ADHD? If so, it’s also mostly just noticeable if I’m under stress, and then it’s hard to tell if that’s the issue or if it’s just autism/depression again.

You might be getting a clearer picture of how my secondary and its model end up burnt so often!

(Resisting a very strong urge to cut stuff from this post.)

In short, I was a Gifted Kid. I spent a lot of my teen years biting off more than I could chew, honestly. I felt that I should be able to do more, and I wanted to be taken seriously, but I had basically no idea how to take care of myself because my needs are different from everyone else’s. I’m still figuring those out.

I’m kind of like an orchid plant: incredibly picky about conditions, wants a different “soil” and watering schedule, gets stressed if stuff changes too quickly, but when everything is just right and it does bloom, it goes all out.

I’m not kidding when I say that I have odd needs. One of them is the need for creative work, which seems to be hardwired into me. When I say that art or writing keeps me sane, I often hear back “oh yeah! I’ve heard that can be very therapeutic,” which is an innocuous reply, but it’s always bugged me, and I think I’ve figured out why.

First, because that’s not the reason I make things… I just… have to. Second, I can’t “make up” not doing creative work with some other kind of therapy. Third and most importantly, I’d much rather think of “artist” as my ground state, and depression as a condition that happens when my needs aren’t being met, rather than thinking of depression as the default that I’m just using art to escape from. That seems to me a healthier way of thinking, and probably a more accurate one, but I’m probably the only one who can see that distinction.

If life gets in the way and I can’t make space for creative work, it will actively make my depression worse. I know this because, multiple times, I’ve been unable to pinpoint why I’m feeling shitty, and then I go back to my easel or my writing or (ukulele, cooking, even just taking care of houseplants) and realize I haven’t done anything creative in like a month and thaaaat’s the problem.

I crack open a bottle of gesso to prep some canvases and it smells like… well, I don’t think you can get high off gesso? But it’s not like when you’re out of it on painkillers or cold medicine or whatever. It’s incredibly grounding, like the world snaps back into focus but it’s also oddly euphoric. Or I write ten thousand words in a couple days and it just… I don’t know what that does. I’ve never run across a word for it.

The writer of Smile at Strangers (a really good memoir centered around women, anxiety, and karate) describes a similar feeling in relation to her martial arts practice.

It’s also a bit like when all the snow melts after winter and you step outside and there’s the smell of wet soil under sunlight and I’m not sure if this fully translates for people who don’t have seasonal depression. Sorry.

Dammit, I want to paint… I haven’t had space to set up for like eight months. I’ve been nose-deep in writing projects since last summer for a reason, but right now my friggin Ravenclaw secondary is off angsting about something because of Life Stress Bullshit, and I don’t have the focus to work on any of my writing projects. Apart from this one. But it’s not really what I want in terms of creative work.

*velociraptor screech*

Oh, yeah. I guess I could mention this is why my nickname is Paint. Not sure if that was obvious before. The header image (which is more visible in the app for some reason) is one of my paintings. It’s a tiny one and it’s not one of my favorites, but I had the photo on my phone and the colors work well enough for what I needed.

(restrains self from negging my own painting ability)

This is starting to get into spoiler territory for what burned Ravenclaw secondary looks like, huh? It’s peaced out for a couple weeks at this point. I’m trying to write about what made it take off, but my ability to think of words and form a coherent sentence kinda flew out the window when I approached it directly.

Let’s just say that around the start of the month, someone I was talking to online (if you’re reading this, it’s definitely not you) kindaaaa hit a nasty depression trigger of mine. Not their fault—it’s very specific to me, and I struggle to explain why I can’t really talk about it. Basically, I spent years studying programming and web design, and due to several different but related issues during that experience, it’s now a trigger for me. I very much want it not to be, but trying to train that out of myself has induced more than one panic attack and I’m stuck between giving up on it or figuring out a way to go back to it that doesn’t totally shut my brain down.

That paragraph took forever to write, by the way.

I think I have to end this here. I… am going to go take out the trash, and water my plants, and make my bed, and file some paperwork, and maybe I’ll even mix up some bread dough or do some laundry. Spoiler alert for what it looks like when my Hufflepuff model takes over, I guess.

Oh. And I should maybe probably eat something. I almost forgot about that... again.

[adventures-in-asexuality]

Going off some tags of yours from like a week ago, if you had the opportunity to get a (secondhand) manual wheelchair for free, would you do so? Would there be any features which are dealbreakers? Or are there reasons against a wheelchair other than cost or would only a motorised wheelchair be of use or something else (you don't have to specify)?

This is gonna be pretty long - I appreciate that you said I didn’t have to specify, but some of this is something I think about a lot, so posting about it might be helpful.

So like: the most immediate dealbreaker (but also the most fixable) is that right now I would probably have to store a wheelchair in my room, which would mean carrying it up and down the stairs every time I used it, which would be... a little counterproductive. Once I have a flat, hopefully I will have some ground floor storage (and this is a good reminder that I should think about this in picking flats, actually, so thanks!).

In a kindly gifted free chair, probably I would say that dealbreakers for the chair itself would be major fit problems - say, it’s made for a twelve-year-old and I can’t actually sit down, or it’s made for someone tall and the seat is too deep for me to sit and bend my legs at the same time. There are a lot of other fit issues for chairs - and I don’t even know them all, of course, but I know that they exist - that would make using a chair full-time a bad idea, but for one that was free and just appeared I would mostly say no for something that meant I could never use it, not even for emergencies, please give it to someone who actually can.

Reasons against a wheelchair other than cost - there sure are.

A big one, which is weird and probably some sort of internalised ableism, but also pragmatism, is that I’m worried how it’d affect people’s perceptions of me. It’s not really mindblowing to say that people are gonna think less of you if you’re in a chair, that you’re gonna have to struggle more to be taken seriously. I’m already visibly female, visibly autistic, questionably visibly queer (largely that I Can’t Do Gender Right, although people do extrapolate that to ‘not interested in men’) and now walking with a cane, and I’m really conscious that this majorly affects how people view me and my credibility, and also really conscious that I currently don’t have a local support network and so I cannot borrow anyone else’s credibility. (There’s a reason a lot of Wheelchair Fantasies involve me living with other people - it’s shit that if you go somewhere with an abled person and they repeat everything you say, they’ll get listened to, but while that’s the way of the world we’ve gotta figure out how to live in it.)

Examples of what this looks like are: will my doctor take me seriously, or will they just think I’m faking and dumb? Will my work take me seriously, or will they unconsciously dismiss me and edge me out of things? When I need to look for a new job, will I be able to get one, or will people see me in interviews and subconsciously decide ‘nope’? When I need to rent a flat, will I be able to, or will landlords decide I’d be too much work or a bad tenant? All of these and more are already major concerns, and I’m worried about making them even bigger.

And like... I do know that people do deal with this every day and it’s not the end of the world. I know it might seem weird to write about as a Concern, and I don’t mean to be weird about other people’s experiences or dismiss them or anything. It just does bother me.

Another, and simpler, reason is accessibility. Wheelchair accessibility: it’s shit. I am concerned about losing my access to shops, to ATMs, to checkouts. I am concerned about losing my access to transportation (and therefore work) altogether: there are routinely two or more buggies taking up the wheelchair space on buses here, and are they really going to get out or make space for me? I am concerned about getting around at work: it’d be mostly possible, I think, but would it be feasible, or would I be constantly annoying people and taking forever to get anywhere, and therefore taking yet another hit to my credibility (as well as just, y’know, having problems).

And like, again, I know this is a problem people do deal with, it’s survivable. But is it a good tradeoff? I don’t know yet.

You mentioned powerchairs: if all my shit continued to progress the way it is at the moment and I did start using a chair, it would probably have to be a powerchair. My shoulders/back/wrists are just as fucked up as my hips/knees/ankles, so using a manual wheelchair instead of walking would just be shifting the pain and fatigue to a different place. Potentially useful for emergencies, but not a fulltime solution.

(I’d also personally probably want a powerchair, because then I’d be able to go places without dying of exhaustion and pain. Like, wouldn’t that be so exciting? To just be able to go out and do stuff, without restricting your movement as much as possible, because you’ve got to save your energy for ADLs and work and you don’t have enough energy for those? Not to have walking to the bus stop or around a shop be a really difficult and considered plan? To even potentially be able to meet friends or go outside for non-essential things? Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh.)

Also, if I was gonna use a wheelchair for any significant fraction of the time, I would absolutely need to figure out how to find one that fit me. My everything is already fucked up, and I really don’t want to fuck it up more by using an ill-fitting chair for more than emergency use. (What am I thinking of as emergencies? I guess things like ‘shit, my leg won’t bear my weight but I’ve still gotta do XYZ’ or other annoying/painful leg-related things.)

This turned out even longer than I thought, wow. Short answer: I would probably gladly take it if I had somewhere to store it and it wasn’t unusable, and there are a fuckton of other concerns.

[apostleshop]

Empty Nest

Great News has been shared on https://apostleshop.com/empty-nest/

Empty Nest

Photo via Pixabay (2015), CC0 Public Domain

Empty Nest

Yeah, I know. Original title. (Sarcasm.) During the month of July, I knew what I’d write about for CatholicMom.com. I was so excited to put together my August article. If you follow what I write, then you know I wrote about the tear-jerking effects of a favorite song. The whole trigger for the inspiration was our youngest child was starting college. We drove her out to school, twelve hours away from home.

This month it’s different. Up until this second, I didn’t know what I’d write about. The reason for that is simple. I’m in a mild mourning season. Well, I said it is simple, not easy. I titled the article, “Empty Nest,” but even this isn’t totally pure or true. The reason for this is that our oldest child is 28 years old and he still lives with us, because he is autistic. We are his legal guardians. He doesn’t drive. He is on the mild to moderate end of the spectrum, and this means he is quite capable on many levels. He’s an elite runner. He cooks, cleans, does laundry, works in our family business, mows grass, works as a dishwasher at a local restaurant, and takes care of all our pets, those being an Australian Shepherd, named Shep, a bearded dragon named Mandra, a parakeet named Spartan, and a black and white bunny named Mumford.

But the most important thing our son does is pray. He follows enthusiastically during Mass, reciting the Nicene Creed with gusto. He prays before every meal. He anoints himself with holy water every morning, when he thuds upstairs on the way to the coffee pot.

So many people have commented about our youngest child going off to college. “So, you’re empty-nesters now?” I always feel I must explain, “Sort of. We have Paul, our oldest son.” It is a unique situation. I know we’re not the only ones. There is a whole wave of us who had our babies in the ’90s and one of them ended up with a developmental delay. Some more severe than others. But, if I were to compare myself to most of my peers now, we are still a rare case. We will always consider our son when making plans, whether that is our living situation or taking vacations. We still have to drive him to where he needs to go. Unless the Lord decides to come back soon and totally heal our son, we will grow old with each other, Rob, my husband and I, along with our son. This will be so until our other adult children take the helm and support Paul when we are too feeble to do so.

In other words, when it comes to categorizing our stage in life right now, I would answer, “It’s complicated.”

Right now, I am alone at home at 7:30 in the evening, because my husband had to go lock up the warehouse after UPS made a pick-up, and Paul is working at the restaurant. The clock’s tick-tocks are palpable, and the crackling wick on a candle illuminating a glass statue of Our Lady on this feast day, “The Queenship of Mary,” is about as loud as the snap, crackle, and pop of the old cereal, Rice Krispies ®. Spartan, the parakeet, is also shelling bird seeds with his beak. The quiet is deafening.

It’s not hard to remember when I used to make dinner around 4 PM and the chaos of kids running in and out of the house, arguing, interrupting, and causing all kinds of mess, was the usual routine of the day. I had a friend who used to call it “the bewitching hour.” I can’t believe that I actually long for those days. Well … maybe half the noise. As long as one or two of them could just clean up the kitchen.

You know the saying, “There’s a first time for everything?” Well, yesterday, I experienced something for the first time in this new season of my life. I went to the grocery store and deliberately shopped for just the two of us. Just little ol’ Rob and me. Paul shops and cooks for himself. This is an area where he can be independent.

Oh boy. It was weird. I tried to think back, before kids, when I’d do the shopping. I couldn’t remember. I barely knew how to cook, beyond lemon-pepper chicken and spaghetti sauce from a jar.

There was a long season when I had all the kids with me in the grocery store. One was in the baby seat, dangling her fat little legs. One was holding on the side, with his feet up on the lower rail, taking a ride. Another was asking for all the no-no’s in the candy aisle and stealthily throwing sugary snacks in the cart, whilst I compared prices on canned goods. I may have even carried another in a discreet sling through the produce department as she breastfed to her stomach’s content. I’d always lament, “Why do I do this to myself?” I could have used a babysitter, or waited til Rob came home. I’ll never forget the time I filled the largest buggy they had, and pushing up to the checkout, this old country guy made the comment, “I think you need a bigger truck.” I smiled with pride.

Yesterday, my cart looked like this:

Copyright 2018 Susan Anderson. All rights reserved.

Today, my fiftyish self spends more money on produce for the antioxidants and the promise of anti-aging benefits of real food. I’ve bought two bottles of wine. One for Rob, who doesn’t mind sulfates, and one for me, who does. Today, I buy turmeric. Back then, I’d never heard of it. When your joints start creaking, you start paying attention. Everything’s organic, because. Except for the oatmeal break-and-bake cookies for Rob…because. I’m into beets lately, for the color. Maybe it’ll keep the gray hairs away? Toilet paper. This batch should last us til the kids come home at Thanksgiving. (OK, I’m exaggerating.) I think I spent a total of $168.00. Now that is a first!

My husband is back home. He’s cleaning the kitchen for me. He just made the comment, “I miss Beth sitting at the piano and singing, about now.”

“I miss all the kids. I miss Mark, Scott, Katie, and Danika. But…what are ya gonna do?”

I agree with, “Yeah.”

There is a silver lining though.

Beth’s been gone three whole days. She sent me a text this morning that read,

Good morning. I’ve been up since 4:20 am. It’s 6:20 here. Prayed a rosary and ready to tackle this 8 am on my first official day of classes. Say a prayer for me, my professors, and my classmates! Also, first chorale rehearsal today. ♪

And then, Swam 4000 yards yesterday at a local Y.

And that made me happy.

Because that’s what we do from the first squalling cry into the world. We prepare them to leave and fly out on their own.

Though I miss them to pieces, I don’t want them living in our basement.

Though I miss them to pieces, I don’t want them living on our basement. -@susanswims8 #emptynest Click To Tweet

I just wish I didn’t miss them so much.

Copyright 2018 Susan Anderson

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[robustcornhusk]

i see both my psych and my therapist on friday, and this usually is a lot more helpful if i stop to think about how things are going beforehand.

spoilers: things are going mostly pretty decently! 

below here i talk about food and alcohol and drugs and family difficulties and money, but not in a particularly distressed way.

things going well:

i made an enormous <ruby><rb>relational database</rb><rt>spreadsheet</rt></ruby> of fun things to do while it’s the summer and we all really want to go do things and shared it with some friends and while no one immediately was super hyped, multiple people later came up to me and umprompted were like “the spreadsheet is really cool! i want to go do a bunch of things!”, and it resulted in people going to a museum, and corgicon, and a trip to the county fair, and and and, and it’s been helping me plan...

bike rides! on my oldnew roadbike! we can’t go camping as soon as i want to, but we’re doing a bunch of in-city rides in the mean time.

the cohuman is starting a new job next month! they are very excited about it, and i’m also very excited about it, because it is a job making the spreadsheets go better. moreover, it’s better in nearly every way from their current job and previous candidates: they will be paid better, the ?sales model? is one we’re more morally comfortable with, there’s been an abundance of indications that the people running the place are loaded with clues, the work is both more interesting and less frustrating, the workplace is even in a more convenient location... 

i solved a multi-year frustrating problem of “i can’t find any shirts that i don’t hate” by acknowledging that i fucking hate the feeling of knit t-shirts and i got some woven button shirts instead. they are a little tight in the shoulders, so i need to find some that really fit as opposed to mostly fit, but now i look Put Together even when i’m in shorts and the colors are good and i don’t feel like a gross sweaty mess when it’s hot because woven fabric handles heat so much better than fucking knit cotton(-poly blend). since getting them, people have stopped me in the street to compliment me on my appearance. (this happened before, too, but there’s been an uptick).

i have played a bunch of video games, which i think for most people is not necessarily a good sign, but for me it is definitely. when i am utterly miserable, i do not play any. when i am fine, sometimes i am not playing any either, but it’s definitely a thing that for me correlates with “feeling good” and to some extent i believe is a causative thing. (the background anxiety machine instead of focusing on the world is awful focuses on well, if i try this level like that or what about that combination of moves...) 

i even want to read fiction, which hasn’t been the case for a while, though that one i have to be careful with; if i read the wrong sort of things i get a mood drop for a few days after (see especially Blindsight). i also am completely powerless to stop reading once i start something (to the detriment of sleeping and eating). so it’s good that i read fast, but ...

i saw a parent last week and after they kept asking me to speak to (relative) i said that i really wasn’t interested in talking to (relative) on account of that person being a jerk and parent only took a minute to accept that and seems to have totally backed off. 

things not going well, but maybe not bad:

i’ve completely dropped climbing on the floor. in part because the last few times i went my hands hurt in a way that indicated that maybe the Minor Tendon Injury wasn’t totally better, but in part because... i just haven’t gone.

i need to remember that it’s very suddenly much easier for me to get there, since i have not-very-valuable road bike now that i can lock up outside in the copious, heavily-used, probably-actually-very-safe bike racks. i have locking skewers in my tires, and i could get a matching seatpost one, which might be a good idea (or get a permanently attached chain). i have better shoes now, so i don’t need to worry about (unexpectedly) slipping off the damn wall the way i used to worry. i do need to solve ‘clothes’, because i think one of the reasons i hesitate to go is that i don’t know what to wear to not stand out. in the winter it’s okay to climb in jeans, but it’s too hot with summer approaching, i think? and people don’t seem to wear shorts while bouldering; i’m not sure if it’s that i’m actually just seeing the work-break daytime crowd who go in street clothes, or if shorts really do stand out.

i do need to remember to not overdo it, and it’s hard at times. what happened in december was definitely that i started going too long and too frequently. i’ll just do one really long session at the big bouldering gym, i said, and climbed to exhaustion, and then i had to drop it for months because i’d fucked up a tendon.

i have not entirely dropped japanese on the floor; i think i’ve done reviews every day for the last month. just. not many of them. like 10-20 a day. i’m abstractly okay with just doing reviews all summer and no additions, because there’s so much fun stuff to do and also because i know i’ll get agitated if i plan to do X additions per day and get off from that because i’m doing fun stuff 3 days a week and so on. 

but i’m still not reconciled to choosing either one of (delay travel to japan until i’m good enough) or (go to japan without being good enough). i’ve been before! while being bad at language! it’s gone fine! but the first was in the high school when i was not a ball of anxiety and the second was with some friends who did a lot of the planning so i knew i could just go along for the ride when i was too stressed to words. and this time is potentially just me and the cohuman, who doesn’t know much, and i really want to go to places outside of tokyo (hokkaido! hokkaido!) where i don’t know that i can rely as much on Ambient Background English.

i’d like to sew a couple of things, but i’m putting it off because ... in part because i’ll bit off more than i can chew, in part because it takes up so much space, in part because the last project bit me, in part because i don’t want to have to iron a bunch of shit on my shitty mini tabletop ironing board. 

i do have a fairly easy project i could do (make an enormous bag for picking up farmer’s market stuff in) without much materials expenditure (i’d need some canvas for the handles and some interfacing, but i have the Cute Thematic Fabric for the outside leftover from last one), so maybe i should just get the damn ironing board. at worst, i can keep it under my bed.

i definitely was overdoing it in the kitchen for a few weeks, and i’ve scaled back a bit in the last month. i think overall, it’s gone well? i’m mad because last night i made a really mediocre dinner: the kale was weird, the broccoli was buggy, the kohlrabi was unevenly cooked, the sauce was meh, i screwed up the timing .... we burned the rhubarb crisp we made this weekend (it was still really good, though), it took an hour to make some cookies (they were incredible though).

the cooking spreadsheet is really useful. this year i’m doing a much better job of finding good and simple food to make with things, so i can divide up my energy in an efficient way. 

we went to a cocktail ... not demonstration, but talk? a person had written a book about cocktails? a couple of weeks ago, and we got their book, and we’ve been making a bunch of them; at least 12 separate recipes out of the ~100 or so in the book. It’s a lot of fun, because it’s a very high effort-to-reward ratio (10-15 minutes of effort results in like 8 people being very happy with me; a lot of flavors i don’t get to use a lot of when cooking or baking)... but i’m approaching a point where, from the standpoint of equipment and ingredients, i either need to cool my jets a bit or swallow some startup costs: glassware (other than chipped to hell water glasses), better tools and equipment (a better shaker, a citrus squeezer that doesn’t spray lemon juice everywhere except the measuring cup), storage vessels (a fourth the fridge is occupied with shrubs and infused syrups and herbs all in too-big mason jars...). 

also like, i love shrubs, and they give me heartburn, because i am apparently old. last summer, when i got started making them, i drank an undiluted 8oz glass of strawberry shrub, because it was delicious, and i thought i was going to die.

the cooking and the cocktailing have led to higher than usual grocery bills, but we’re tracking everything pretty closely: it’s not getting in the way of capital-s Savings, of things we need, even of things we just want. it seems to have just pulled from other hobby-type activities, which makes sense.

[as an aside, and i’m only partially joking, i strongly recommend that the autistic person in a relationship set up the budget; i had a great time doing that last year. the cohuman handed me information on income, and i spent three or so setting up ynab: figuring out all the possible expenditure categories, figuring out how much and how often we’d spend from each, allocating money... and we’ve had to tweak it since then, of course, but also i believe my assumptions and numbers were astoundingly accurate. at one point the cohuman said “we need to move X dollars per month to this other category, what do we do” and i said “that’s easy! that’s painless! we just need to change our running route once a week” and I was right.]

hmm:

at last psych appointment i said that the cohuman had noticed me being sorta off for the week prior; i was getting stuff done during the day, but not as much as i was really wanting to, even on things i was really interested in and pursuing because i wanted to!, and then i was agitated in the evening and couldn’t focus even on easy, fun, light things. 

and then went hmm, and because it was a short trend and i’d said i was backing off of stuff, and because i think i seemed pretty normal at the time: not the super fast speech i get when anxious, not completely taciturn, it was decided to wait and see. i think, i don’t remember the whole conversation.

and then i utterly crashed the next monday. and i’d halfway decrashed by friday, which is why i didn’t bother trying to get an earlier appointment or anything, and with regard to magnitude, i’ve by now completely recovered to baseline, but i’ve changed direction.

all my interests have been the exact same for like ... 15 years. like. yep. i’ve over and over again been interested in: food & cooking & collecting cookbooks, sewing & fashion, learning japanese, interior design and how people use spaces, cats!!!, biking... bouldering doesn’t feel as intense as the other ones, but i think just because there’s less to spreadsheet about with it, and general-you inevitably get injured if you go too hard too soon. 

but they come and go in cycles, and the cyclic nature is at times very unpleasant. being dumped from “fuck yeah, biking! touring! let’s ride for thousands of miles!” to “I haven’t touched a bike in 6 months except to move it out of the way” sucked. 

...

even without “i can use these interests to find new things to be into”, like getting into camping as a way to go on longer bike rides, that’s a pretty okay list of interests. there’s what i see as a hospitality cluster (food, interior design, sewing, cat), a health cluster (food, biking, bouldering), travel (biking, japanese). it might not be the most, ... what’s the word i’m looking for? broadly intellectually stimulating?

digression: i saw, somewhere, someone say: if you’re trying to have people think positively of you, and you decide a good way to go about this is by being smart, that’s all well and good; but if the result of this is that people feel stupid around you, then you’ve made a mistake. if you want people to think positively of you for being smart, you’ve make it easy for them to think well of themselves afterwards, too; you can’t just look down on them.

...

previously, somewhere, described my aspiration as this: I want to be an enzyme. I want to be a thing that, just by being around, makes it easy for reactions to happen. 

and what i think that looks like, in part, is making it easy to be around me. hospitality, i guess.