Goals

Just follow your heart.

Hope is a big multifaceted word: it reminisces happiness, sadness, hopelessness.

I switch in-between.

I know it can be a chemical imbalance-I have co-morbid ADHD-though it s mainly circumstantial to me: my only hope is going back to my country with my wife.
The chance is 100% economy dependent. 
Economy is very volatile these days and so my hope.

Today I’m hopeless, despite never giving up.
It’s hard to work without hope due to lack of motivation.

But I force myself, I’m determined in my goal.
Without goals, I’d let me die.

You’re never a failure when you try, keep it in mind.
New doors will open.

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Agony

Nostalgia is one of the main weather related factors to me. Climate change brings me back in time. I dread doomsday. 

Monday, ‘Transition time’ .

I’m in anguish, complicit the Asian monsoon season.

The average Asian typhoon wreaks havoc 2-3 days. 
This is expected to gain energy for over a week. 
Scientists blame global warming and faster than usual rises in sea-levels. 

I’m very concerned about nature.

From now on, we’ll have hotter and longer Summers . It’ll take at least 200 years to bring the Earth as we knew it 30 years ago, even with all the carbon-emission cuts.

I believe that s the real purpose of Space Exploration: finding inhabitable spaces for humans. 
Entire coastal cities and islands are set to be submersed in 50 years, Tuvalu, Jakarta, Venice…

Anyway, I trust God will intervene, but right now, I feel hopeless.
My 30’s were the best period of life.

Time is running out. I m working hard to go home with my wife and a stable job.
She thinks I m obsessing. I think I m being realistic.

My first reaction to Panic is calling all my friends, though I often resort to hotlines.
In fact, I ‘ll call right now, skies threatening and air-moisture getting unbreathable.
Tomorrow will be better.
Apologies if I caused stress to anyone. 
I didn’t mean it.

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Mindsets

Changing location has the potential of adopting a new approach to life. In my case, home. I’m not in the clear mindset to make life-changing decisions outside my comfort zone.

I’m very nostalgic these days.

That raises the question whether memories are of any good.

To me, they are good motivationally but also depressing.

Only ECT can erase them permanently not without a bunch of side-effects like general amnesia. 
I’m still not sure about it. 

What good does it make recalling traumatic events?

I’ll see once settled in my country with a new mindset.

I have a personal belief that Autism could result from trauma, hence removing past memories could make me in a brand new person.
I endured tons of traumas. 

However, a new mindset is what I need right away in order to take life-changing steps.

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Traumatic Memories

 I just celebrated my birthday and wish I could sink.

I see no purpose in Celebrating birthdays by stereotypes: cake, blowing candles as reminders of age, clinging glasses, and countless dreaded pictures.

The bad news is that birthdays are normally social events organized by friends and family in a surprising, unexpected fashion to which we have no control over.
It’s more likely your peers remember your birthday, since for them it’s a selfish occasion to party.
There is no escape, you have to conform, unless cutting all ties permanently, especially if you have a Latino background…The Family.

Every morning is a new birthday with Jesus which I celebrate in silent prayer. I know He’s not done with me yet. He has given me clear directions for my foreseeable future, that’s what Personal Prayer is, Conversation with God.
Yesterday is no more, imagine forty years…it’s only Today.
We all have stored Memories and Upbringing which define who we are, not yearly pictures. Next year I’ll look different, not necessarily age-wise, a new person as a whole.

I am yet to hear from anyone who delights in watching pictures.
It is a compulsion that tricks the viewer into fake happiness, what it is melancholia in reality. Melancholia is to any benefit, it is an addiction.
I myself am tempted to look at pictures. For this reason, I discard them as soon as I find some hidden in the most unthinkable places.
The Internet is another lurking space in this era.

There is only the Present Day to me.
I am sure we’ll all be happier should we photograph a sunset with the camera God donated us, our Eyes.

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Cry for help

Attempted suicides are Cries for help. Perpetrators don’t want to die, they want to be heard. It is important to recognize the signs.

How many times we desperately reach-out to hotlines and charities for help.
Whether our desperate thoughts are taken into consideration or not, the sole reaching out to organizations outside the family, is the first sign that the family is not listening to our voices.
A Cry for Help.

Determined Suicides don’t reach-out.
We must reach-out to them.
A person experiencing severe life-events yet acting nonchalantly, indicates a loss of interest in life.

Mania is typically associated to Bipolar Disorder, whereas everybody can go into a manic state under pressure.

I have the utmost respect for hotlines and charity workers, although they don’t have any authority over institutions, they can only offer advice.
Callers want action, therefore these services can add more frustration than relief to severely distressed sufferers.

Hospitalization is the last option.
Unfortunately, this category of people is not fond of hospitals.
They frantically continue to reach-out to no avail.
This is a trait of Mania.
Delusion is the last stage before Self-harm as in Cry for Help.
People who overdose, typically call an ambulance when they start to drift off.
Not always, help arrives on time.


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Resilience in Autism

Distances are not easy to manage. If technology is not your forte, they can become even more triggering.

Sad day.

Brother’s birthday who lives far away.

I must arrange a Skype session in different time-zones.

I suffer for my neighbor.
I’m panicking right now.
A tornado is approaching to make things worse. 

I’m considering whether to call my wife at work or my local helpline.
I’m not very fond of helplines, though I respect the work they do.

My wife comes in an hour, I’ll opt for chronicling after all.
Journaling is very effective in confronting fears.
Oh, wife arrived soon!
We’re going to set Skype, I’m good at humanities while a tech-crook.
I get very emotional talking to my brother, he’s “low-functioning autistic” and institutionalized, though I despise that bigoted populist ideology.


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Homesickness

Medication is indispensable to me in the current circumstances.

I hate waiting.
It’s an almost imposed, consuming rule that we have little control over.
I always want to be in control of myself.
I’m waiting to go home, possibly the worst consuming wait.
I feel like in exile. A prisoner.

I took one Seroquel today to calm down, instead messed up with my ADHD medication.
My attention is all over the place. 

I’ll mention the bad interaction to my psychiatrist next month.
Even modifying meds is a major challenge to me.
I do very bad on antipsychotics.
Self-medicating is one of my compulsions, I m overly biological oriented and supportive of the ‘fast kick in’ largely compelled by ADHD.
I tried CBT to no avail.

I’m extremely territorial, the ideal location is medicinal to me. 
I’m resolute to go med-free at home. 

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Festivities in Autism

I need a reason for self-care. Without a reason, pleasurable self-care takes the place of forced hygienic labor. In short, necessity.

I need to be in the right place to celebrate or else.

Today I declined an hairdresser appointment.
I do things for a purpose only. 
Besides, I look good long haired, it s more about renewal, hence better after the  ‘commercial festivities’.

These are the most difficult days for me.
I just want to be with my wife.

Ironically, we booked the hairdresser together.
She wouldn’t cancel despite my pleas resulting in a two hours waiting for her to come home.

I feel guilty and scared.
Tomorrow is her birthday.
I bought her a present, can’t wait for tomorrow.

But today is dreadful.
I hope she’ll relax to the hairdresser who’s also her friend.
Maybe I did the right thing not to go.

Coming to my senses. We’ll go together next month and relax.

One thing at a time: tomorrow we’ll go dining out.
With neat long hair.

Matching boundaries.



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Christmas confusion

Consequences of Christmas stress on autists.

It’s no surprise that holidays are overwhelming for autists.

Living in a non-Christian country as a Christian, Christmas takes the form of Confusion to me: I feel out of place, I can’t get organized, I get depressed, homesick…

These are also the shortest days of the year with sunset at 4:30pm.
I always feel like running out of time.
Night is not made for work, biologically.

Self-care is a struggle too, like having an haircut still, I want to look tidy.
I like social. Even my wife is social: it’s not that looks don’t count anymore after marriage, lack of physical attraction is a guaranteed recipe for extra-marital affairs.

Self-care comes at a price: speaking from a man perspective, think the amount of time that shaving and showering takes daily!
Nowadays men spend as much as women in self-care.
We live in an image society, unfortunately.
Good looking people are more likely to be hired than more skilled ugly counterparts.

Sadly, people with mental disorders don’t fare very well in personal hygiene.

Anyway, this is not an article on aesthetics.
I debated the theme since a big means of communication is our body, the so-called ‘body language’.

Can you relate?
What’s your idea of confusion?

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80’s

Dark times are mostly personal. We can experience darkness in the face of light still, acknowledging the moment s highs. A distressing battle between good and evil.

I read an article on the 80s, the decade I grew up in.
Despite being my darkest years, there s a big revival currently of the 80s, deemed the best post-WWII decade, economically and culturally.

I fully agree.

Music is an example, the greatest musicians thrived in the day, Cure, U2, Cult, Mission, Bauhaus, Madonna, David Bowie, Kate Bush, Enya, the list is endless.

I craved going to concerts and clubs.
I wasn’t aware of my autism back then.
I suffered enormously for not being able to attend.

But enough regretting.
I’m now diagnosed and more confident.

I’m proud to be an 80s kid 40 years later!

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