tuesday 18 august 2009 redux

Page Nineteen

back in Greenfield

Today the tears at the thought of coming back to Greenfield began long before I even got on the bus. I was only able to stay outdoors and do a little haunting of what was my life for an hour, as the weather defeated me.

Ran into a man who “loves” me while I was there. Oh, he’s loved me since 1996, according to his own words. But here he had the day off, yet couldn’t spend any time with me, he loves me so much. He bought me a bottle of water. Gee whillikers.

Gardening is another thing that’s gone, at least for now. I was a gardener from 1992 to part way through 2006. If I ever have a yard again, which I can’t believe in, I will try to make a garden for the 14 animals who were taken from me, a Garden of the Absent. I didn’t invent that, it’s the name of someplace in Viet Nam, I think. I would try to make this garden if I ever had a yard again, but would I be able to? I don’t know. There’s so much right now that I cannot face, things that were part of my own destroyed life. I have no way of knowing how many of them I might be able to face again or when.

I miss the gardening. I loved it. I would exhaust myself and get my immune system furious overdoing it in the gardens. I loved it as much as I loved our music, and our walks, and our togetherness, and the art and books and radio shows that were part of our life. As much as I loved lying down to sleep with animals around me for 55 years, and waking with them in the morning.

I’m wandering Turners as much as I can, which isn’t enough, and I’m also wandering through books on autism and Asperger’s, which is all I’m able to read right now. If you have interest, there’s Nobody Nowhere by Donna Williams, Look Me In the Eye by John Robinson, and Asperger’s from the Inside Out by a man whose last name is Carley. I forget his first two names. Of course there are many books on the subject, but these are the three I’ve been digging in lately. Most of my life I tried to fit in enough to get by; I hid a lot about myself, but my general Asperger’s differentness seems to have been impossible to squelch. I’m sick of the whole business of trying to fit in whatever way I can, and I’ve been sick of it for about 15 years. For those years I’ve been straining for permission from the neurotypical world to be myself, weird as that may be. And what was my answer from the world, in the end? Neurotypicals destroyed my life.

~~~~~~  website  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

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