Post #192 - Reach Out ... Be Rejected?

Now, I cannot recall whether I said that I used to be a member of the local branch of a national mental health charity's online regular quiz, music and general chat sessions?  Well, I was, but I won't name the charity in question because it'll be outing.  I left it because I got fed up with certain members' actions within the group, became bored with moaning about it to management and quite frankly, I think that I'm ready to be released back into the wild.  My bipolar and autism dual diagnosis doesn't seem to cope well with too much contact with other people with mental health problems nor others with autism.  That said, I do have a couple of excellent friends who have MH issues and we understand one another very well and I'd never abandon them, but I know them IRL and they've both known me for way over a decade.  I am a spiky person - like those darn spiny things on Mario:

There was one woman, let's call her Shaz, whom was a long-time member of the quiz group and who later on joined the music appreciation sessisons.  I really liked her and we had bantz - although it was an online group and we'd never actually met in person.  Until her recent retirement she was working, although thinking back, she might have been a permanent homeworker, but who can tell these days?  The morning session of the time before Easter that I decided to leave altogether, which wasn't a particularly nice day as the Police turned up on my doorstep following my report of sexual assault (see earlier posts ...) I offered her a book my son was gifted once on the Titanic as this is one of Shaz's  passions - she had various framed photographs and diagrams of the doomed vessel hanging on the walls of her flat.  Now I think about it ... MH problems?  Special interests?  I think that you know what I'm inferring but I won't say it ...

I passed on my deets (as the kids say) via the group leader and received a call a few days later (which I missed because I was napping).  This led to a text exchange which wasn't hugely friendly as Shaz stated that due to her physical disability she was unable to leave the house and that if I left the book in the charity's offices, her husband would pick it up.  I agreed but felt a bit, well, cheated.  I was kind of hoping that we could meet for a quick coffee but clearly she didn't want this.  When I dropped the book off this morning even the charity's receptionist seemed surprised at Shaz's rather odd behaviour, also believing that meeting up for a coffee and chat would have been much better than this rather strange way of operating.  I then WhatsApped Shaz to confirm that I've dropped the book off and then blocked her.  I know this sounds a bit odd, but if that's the way she is then I don't need or wish for any more contact as I don't want to start a row.  

Things will be better once I'm back at work as I'll just go to work, come home, contact my existing friends and then concentrate on my son.  That's the way it is.  

Post #188 - Mea Culpa

OK, yes, I was wrong ... but let's admit it, WhatsApp group are tricky, right? Especially when there are no rules to comprehend. I suppose that common decency is paramount? Anyway, I'm back in the fold, so to speak.

This afternoon's survey was fine and I was finally able to discover the woman's name who so upset me back in January. What an officious person she was. 

Post #170 - The More You Ignore Me - The Closer I [Don't] Get

Master Logic and me share a similar problem - we get fed up with people ignoring our respective WhatsApp messages. With me I ping far too many messages at people, what with my butterfly brain and all, but it still pisses me off to be ignored. I've had this all of my life - I was never part of the 'in crowd' at school, work or anything really.

The trouble with social media is that you can see when the person who is ignoring you is online; it's uncanny. An example of this recently relates to my Great Aunt Pat's funeral - my brother and his dipso wife didn't even acknowledge the virtual funeral let alone send any kind of condolence via the close family's WhatsApp group. This is the same sister-in-law who is always on Facebook commenting on her friends and blood relations' doings. Clearly my family aren't important enough to give a shit about?

Post #164 - Coronavirus/Covid-19 and Isolation

It's now the end of March 2020 and I'm writing this from the comfort of self-isolation, as mandated by the UK Government.  Will we all be dead soon?  If so, will this blog be lifted from the Internet of the future and used as a tool for learning about life in the late twentieth and early twenty-first century?  Probably not, but I'll keep writing anyway.

Self-isolating for Aspies is pretty standard behaviour anyway - a veritable life choice if I'm honest.  I find it difficult to mix in large group and as for remaining two metres away from the next person - bring it on - London's far too bloody crowded anyway.  I'm totally used to communicating remotely and find it much easier, although replying to my mate's long-winded emails because she refuses to buy a smartphone is bloody annoying I must admit.  Let's face it, emails are formal these days - the equivalent of receiving an old style written epistle - give me a WhatsApp message any day.

Post #162 - Suburban Late August Blues

My son, Master Logic, turns twelve on Sunday and as such, wants to be as normal as possible.  As we know the concept of being normal - is kind of lost on those of us on the spectrum.  I sent this angry Tweet/Facebook status today:

I'm sure that Master Logic's friend's mother has a really good explanation for not finding two precious minutes to reply to a message.  From our side though, Master Logic has been really upset about the whole thing, believing himself to have been ignored and pretty much friendless.  He's almost reached his teenage years and the fact that he's autistic is really starting to hit home because his neurotypical peers are out and about on their bikes, meeting one another for an ice cream and generally being kids.  It's hard for me to deal with as a parent on the spectrum myself - if it were left to me I'd rant and rave at others for their insensitivity, but I know that it would affect Master Logic's life, so I leave the 'soft skills' to my husband.

Post #142 - Did It Again

Yes, once again I've fallen out with a close friend, whom I'll refer to as 'IndieMan' over something I stupidly wrote on Facebook messenger whilst pretending to be my husband, Mr Random. The trouble is that 'my sense of humour' [quotes intentional] is odd and sometimes a little hurtful and I fully admit that it has caused me no end of trouble throughout my life.

I apologised. I'm not sure what else I can do, apart from donning sackcloth and ashes whilst being beaten by a leper colony.  My friend duly blocked me on WhatsApp and Facebook and generally shut me out of his life. 

*Benefit of Hindsight - written on 17th December 2018*

We made it up a fortnight or so after the incident, so roughly mid-August if my execrable maths is up to scratch.  Fair enough, I screwed up, but I guess that it was a rather immature response to his somewhat cavalier attitude towards my feelings in the past.

IndieMan discussed it with me face-to-face in late November, and hey, yes, I did wrong, but my husband was rather pleased that we'd fallen out.  Try as he might, Mr Random doesn't really like me having close friendships with other blokes. Quite understandably, he gets jealous and rather dislikes IndieMan upsetting his wife by flying off of the handle and blocking her on social media.  As for IndieMan blaming Mrs Random for any ensuing physical altercations that he may get himself into as a result is total bollocks. Grow up.

Post #106 - Some People Ain't Got No Sense Of Humour (sic)

Tonight heralded my final concert performance with my (now) former choir. Why? Well, as regular readers of this blog will know, group activities are almost impossible for me to involve myself with and it came to a bit of a head. Sometimes, to prove a point, I'll push a situation to see what, if anything, breaks.

We have been rehearsing a series of songs for months now. I'm continually struggling with singing alto (I'm a soprano) because the harmony line always sounds flat to me, altos never get the tune and well ... the vocal, ahem, quality of the choir could be so much better.

Anyway, the choir has a WhatsApp group to ping messages at one another.  Being a predominantly female group, after the performance there were the usual sycophantic crappy messages on there "Ooh, the choir sounded amazing ladies ..." I thought that, to cut through the cloying platitudes, I'd attempt to inject some humour into proceedings, by suggesting that a prominent member of the choir had been elected Head Chorister ... but it went down like a cup of cold sick with messages such as 'you're cruel and that's not funny' directed at me. I then left the WhatsApp group and indeed, the choir ... That'll save me the princely sum of £7 per week.

I have now recycled my musical scores.

Post #74: The Comfort Zone Is There For A Reason

On Tuesday I went to a gig in trendy east London.  One of my male friends (I'm not a total sleaze: being a female Aspie, the demographic I mostly click with, friends-wise, tend to be straight geeky guys) asked me along as he'd purchased two tickets ages ago when he was dating a London-based party animal.  That said, regular readers of the blog will know that I'm not really suited to such events; I did, however, decided to break outside of my comfort zone and try to embrace a different experience.

As ever, the medium of online coversation is not straightforward; the WhatsApp trail became confusing whilst I was wandering around John Lewis in Westfield East, Stratford and I only got his call when I was en route to Hackney and desperately trying to push my way through the UK's seemingly busiest transport hub, Stratford Station.  He himself has a condition which makes travelling on crowded public transport an issue, so let's just say that the evening didn't really get off to the best start?

Baxters Court, The Wetherspoons in Hackney was absolutely packed, which I'm unsure was a normal occurrence for a Tuesday night, but maybe it was?  Once we'd managed to get a table, it was located far too closely to the one behind, and I had a braying woman shouting in my ear after one couple left and were replaced by a group of urban middle-class east Londoners. That kind of thing always tends to happen to me.

Once we moved onto the gig I was immediately tranported back to the nineties when I was indeed in my twenties and I guess, young.  I'm not really trendy, although I confess that I do wear Ray-Ban Wayfarers, but that's because I'm incredibly shortsighted and really do need them, so they're not really a fashion affectation.  We soon moved into the performance hall and it was ... crowded; people were pushing past all of the time, it was just, far too crazy for me.  I really thought that the night would never end; even though I'd removed my M&S cardigan (yeah, so what?!) and placed my Gap leather jacket over my retro blouse, I was still far too hot.  I can't imagine that I ever managed to glean any enjoyment out of such an evening, I really don't.  Anyway, to cut a long story short, I ended up leaving my friend and getting out a bit early - say, 22:35ish.  He didn't follow, which caused a few communication issues, which we later smoothed out via the medium of text and WhatsApp.

I fully realise that I am far too middle-aged for my own good, but being an Aspie isn't an easy ride sometimes.