Sorry, you guys…..You know I disappear sometimes. I’m back.
Here’s a question for you all:
We are all human. So…To what extent do we agree to change or conform in order to get along with other humans, hold down a job, keep our homes, or raise our families? How much is too much conformity? Should I change myself more? Or maybe differently? Are there other ways I can change that are easier or more agreeable to me?
I have had various suggestions. For one, “Go to therapy.” As you know, I have thrown that one out the window! To me, that one makes no sense because therapy breeds dependency and the risk for therapy abuse is too high. Plus I feel that the perps should go to therapy and are the ones who OWE it to society to submit to such sessions. I don’t even owe it to myself to go to any more abuse sessions, nor to return to appointment addiction.
Other suggestions include, “Go to bars to meet people.” I do not want to meet slobbering drunks! I would rather meet sober people or folks that have less interest in relying on alcohol as a means to “loosen up” since that actually doesn’t compute with me. That’s why I think bus stops and street corners are fine places to meet people.
Another: “Wear makeup and change your hair and get your teeth whitened.” Why on earth should I do that? I look like a clown with makeup on. My hair is fine like it is. I doubt a new hairstyle will buy me friends. I brush my teeth because I don’t want to lose any more of them, and because I feel better if they are brushed and don’t have slime on them. Undoubtedly, good hygiene is important if you want to get by in life. While the expensive frills might be good for that job interview, I wouldn’t want a job where I had to look like that every day, anyway. I would never wear heels nor so-called “hose.” Does anyone wear that stuff anymore? It’s anti-feminist.
Let’s see, what other suggestions did I get. Oh yeah, “Meditate.” I don’t mind hearing this one except the gurus keep saying that I’m a sinner if I don’t. I’ve even had people tell me what a terrible person I am because I choose not to meditate. I dislike it being pushed on me like it was some newfangled religious cult.
Listen: We all have Freedom of Thought. This means if I choose to pray, I can. I can pray to anything I want, or not pray at all. I can meditate if I want, or not meditate. I am a full-grown adult who has been old enough to choose for myself for a long time. This is my choice. My right to choose for myself. I am open to anyone’s suggestions. However, I do not owe it to you, to the world, nor to myself to participate in any religious nor spiritual practice including yoga, prayer, meditation, exercise, therapy, or anything else anyone claims as curative or the answer to the world’s problems or claims it will solve MY problems. I feel that no one knows better what will solve my problems than me, and no one knows better what will solve your problems than you. I cannot tell you what to do and you cannot tell me what to do.
With these recommendations, sometimes folks forget about the basic delineation between ourselves. Folks can recommend, but please do not step on my toes nor try to tell me how to think.
I have looked over the various SPD forums and sometimes I laugh. Having discovered this a few days ago I note that others like me who learn of this late in life are ten times more angry than I am. Why is this? I am cracking my butt off laughing at the misdiagnoses! Of course! That’s why I am such a klutz! And I am laughing since the fools are now ten times more foolish. Thumbing my nose at those idiot doctors, those so-called “experts” who should have known.
That plus people begging for a cure. Why? Adapt! What do you want? Don’t own glass stuff because it’ll break! Don’t buy it anymore. Expect things to drop. Put a rubber mat on the floor if you have to. Don’t wear white if you are drinking coffee. Don’t even buy clothes that are dry clean only. If you’re as old as I am you learned this from experience.
Yes, I’d love to own a glass measuring cup. I go to the store and look at them wistfully when I see them on sale. I say to myself, “I’d love to have one just like my mom’s.” But I can’t. I know better. I’ll break it. This is kinda where I draw the line, where the world and I meet eye to eye. I don’t see myself as limited nor incapable. I’m elsewhere, doing other things, and frankly, there’s only time left for what I CAN do anyway.