Abscissa – Autism and Techno Blog

Greetings again, time for another blog.

Had been meaning to follow up previous blogs, but new stuff happens. Or not as the case may be.

Thought about how I was no longer at war, but at peace with myself. Being able to think clearly about the future and understand there is a decision to be made which will take my life down one of two paths.

It’s been a real low few days and if you ask me now, I’d say the choice is to make a decision or not. By not making a decision I am choosing the default path.

That is the crap one of course.

Things getting on top of me. Easiest way is to just let things pile up. Shrug of the shoulders. Why bother?

I never got round to talking about one of my newer relaxation methods. Watching vids on youtube with various claims of healing frequencies. Alpha waves, Theta waves, etc.

Originally I would said perhaps this is healing me somewhat, making me feel quite sad. Healing would have meant being able to cry and grieve.

I gradually moved on to other chill out stuff. I like listening videos of rainfall and crackling fires. As for actual music, the stuff I listen to has that element of production often used in all techno and electronic dance stuff I always liked.

I don’t listen to much now because it does make me feel deeply melancholic and intensely unhappy. But then you know, I haven’t done it for a while and it’ll be nice.

Alas it takes me straight back to that pain and grief. That dark blue, cold emptiness. Everytime. It’s not just that but returning to an old hobby that reminds me of the happy times lost.

It’s telling that I continually refuse to try anything new. Refuse to seek new friends and new experiences.

And yet in those bleak moments, a reminder of how deeply I want to have those things again. If only I could make the changes necessary. Apply myself to do something difficult and uncomfortable in the short term for happiness in the long term.

Devolving further into myself, always looking to relive happier times when I was young by doing all the stuff I did as a kid. Before I tried living as a struggling adult.

Back into a world I actually trust. With a growing sense of horror at what the real world has become. Or perhaps what it always has been in my absence. Seeing up close and personal what I now understand to be utterly horrible.

It has gotten worse these last few years. A slow demise of human interaction, further dehumanisation under a cover of “Be Kind” in this social media age of intolerance and false empathy.

I still think of myself as a mirror of society at large and it fits to see myself cutting everyone out, after all didn’t they all do the same?

It would be remiss of me not to talk about last weeks social work do. An evening of bowling and then off to watch the football in the pub with a few of the lads and get fairly merry.

It was fantastic because it had been nearly two years since the last one which was also fantastic. I only wished we could do it every night and not have to get up for work in the morning.

We can’t of course, and how long did it take for all that joy to evaporate? Back to discomfort around people and miserable loneliness.

Back to the real world again. Not that those social dos aren’t the real world but the alcohol certainly makes it feel other-worldly. That’s the way I do it.

Those times I can chat to the lads without any anxiety and yet back to work and I will barely say a word to them.

A reminder that being social with the right people is a fucking joy for me but who the hell are the right people now and how much booze will I have to chug to open up.

And who will remain the right people after things get difficult, which they always do. Who would keep up with me when I’m on fire and lift me when I grow cold and distant?

It if was me, I’d be fine.

But inevitably I’ll keep going round in circles trying to do anything and everything to keep going.

It’s funny how the idea of something is wonderful but the work involved is hell. Sometimes the best things in life are those what seem like a rubbish idea.

Perhaps the solution is to pursue those rubbish ideas instead. Sounds like a plan. Meet things with the cynical motto of “this is going to be a load of shit” and then “oh that was surprisingly good”.

Every weekend starts with looking forward to time off work and turns into the awful feeling of not actually wanting to do anything.

I’ve known for a long time that I need to start doing things I really don’t want to do. Not fucking easy at all but no excuses.

It sounds like I’ve always struggled to appreciate the difficult things in life and hence, can’t appreciate the good stuff. Maybe it is just too difficult.

Call it extreme if you like, but noble ideas, aspirations, beliefs, hopes and dreams crumble to dust. We are all that remains and we will be here til the end.

Give me some more of that salty, down-to-earth cynicism and fuck all of them delusions.

Thanks as always for reading.