sometimes it's better to sing yourself to sleep
I’m in a rich bath as I write this. The 40-Year-Old Virgin is playing in the background. I’ve needed this for a while now. (The bath? Or the habits?)
Ding-dong. A delivery of sweets from a sweet and misunderstood girl.
Glug-glug. I accidentally let the water drain out and I don’t know how to stop it.
A few minutes of glory.
My anxiety is finally dissipating. I think a lot of it was because I finally expressed how I was feeling instead of bottling it all in.
M says I struggle a lot with interpersonal relationships. And he’s absolutely right. I constantly find myself in a situation where I have to choose between doing the right thing and not upsetting anyone. But I think the thing I struggle with most is feeling extremely sensitive when I feel like something is unfair and wrong. I can’t seem to disconnect myself emotionally.
It’s not all the time.
Sometime I feel everything. If I see a friend in an unsavoury situation that I’ve been through before, I can profoundly relate to it. In these situations I feel a heavy sense of injustice and I feel my stomach churn. I feel like something should be done but I’m not sure if I should be the one doing something about it.
But other times I feel nothing. If a friend is going through something I’ve never experienced myself, I’m happy to help but I don’t feel so crippled.
This is something that I understand about myself pretty well. It’s odd, but when I remember that I’m probably autistic — it makes much more sense.
In any case, I hope this semster is going to be a good one. I’m going to take active steps in readjusting myself so I can make sure that my needs are met.
It’s day 2 out of my 14-day quarantine in Singapore. I found myself serving it at JW Marriott South Beach. Apparently JW’s are more premium compared to traditional Marriott hotels? The marketing confuses me.
I have to say that the stay has been quite refreshing. I have plenty of space and the amenities are nice. I even have a bathtub. (I ordered a bunch of Lush stuff yesterday night!) It’s a completely different experience from serving my quarantine at Hotel V Lavender. Remember those plastic water bottles that were filled with “Hair and Body Shampoo” and “Toilet Bowl Cleaner”? Yikes. And those individual sheets of toilet paper… not fun. But this time around, I have shampoo and body (not this two-in-one bullshit) and a bidet so I have to say that I’m sitting pretty happy.
It’s been a fascinating experiencing both the lower and higher end of quarantine experiences. I really wonder whether or not I got set up in this place because I was entering through the “familial” lane as opposed to the “student pass” lane. I wouldn’t put it past the government to do some tweaking.
Over the last few days and up until this morning, I had been really exhausted. I have a hard time distinguishing between emotional exhaustion and physical exhaustion — for all I know, it could have been both but I finally feel like my energy levels are back to normal. I intended to take a nap yesterday evening and I just end up sleeping past midnight. And when I went back to bed around 3AM, I sleep like a baby through the night. (Isn’t “sleep like a baby” a little bit of an oxymoron?)
I recently read about something called “autistic burnout“, which is essentially intense emotional/mental/physical exhaustion that an autist experiences after navigating a world designed for neurotypical people. I think that was exactly what I was feeling after the assessment — I was extremely drained for the rest of the day and I had to stay put on the couch. M was quite patient with me and was extremely accommodating. That experience really reminded me of something I forgot to tell the psych: I feel extremely exhausted after socializing, being in public, etc. It feels like I have to use a lot of energy to “act normal”. I would definitely describe the experience as debilitating. Sometimes the exhaustion is so bad, I have to take a nap afterwards and/or take the rest of the day off.
It seems that all the challenges I experiences are independently relatable but I wish people would really understand it’s not just one challenge — it’s many of challenges (and many of those things are not challenges at all and very simple for others to do). It doesn’t help that many of my challenges are not so obvious. I’m extremely grateful that none of this really matters for my close friendships; in most of those relationships, people truly understand me and everything runs smoothly. But it’s often difficult for those same friends to realize I often fail at social interactions because it often looks and feels like “game-playing” to me and the manual I have is in a foreign language.
Despite this, I don’t see autism as a curse. Along with its unique challenges, it comes with many strengths and abilities: I am phenomenal at out-of-the-box thinking. I am exceptionally honest and reliable. I also have superb relational memory. And that’s just a few to boot. With this in mind, an official diagnosis is not meant to validate my issues. Rather, it’s meant for me and others to better recognize and understand that I live in a different reality. It’s also meant for people to “cut me some slack” when it comes to certain social situations.
I really want to share more about this new journey of mine. There’s still some time until the diagnosis but until then, I’m going to keep searching for answers.
I had an epiphany about my life this morning and I owe a lot of it to the people around me. I had initiated a few talks about insecurities with some close friends through the last couple of weeks and it really led me to open a door… and I finally truly understand what my greatest insecurity is.
M initiated a conversation that really made me think about the way I behave following breakups; I had a habit of self-therapizing by doing things that would make strangers happy. M was once that stranger in my life – I had met him once, and I just bought him a bunch of gifts and sent it to him in the mail from abroad. That gesture alone made me happy, and I didn’t have any need or expectation for him to reciprocate. M really prodded me to think… Why do I behave in this manner? Why do I have a desperate need to make people happy?
During this talk, I started to sob. I started to think of all the ways I dealt with trauma when I was a kid… I just remember feeling really bad…
In my mind, I had thoughts about my deepest fear: upsetting people.
It all started with T, who I had recently become close with. She understood me well and I think I understood her as well. Our friendship was pressure-free, open, and sincere. We got along and I tried to figure out why we worked so well together.
I started from the opposite end and thought back to all the friendships that broke… How did that happen? I’m an extremely agreeable person, I don’t upset easily, and I’m extremely easy-going. (Not to mention I scored the 1st percentile in the Jordan Peterson personality test) Perhaps it’s them? I started to realize that all those people I had to end relationships with were quite similar in that they were all extremely insecure people. They were constantly on their toes because they thought people were out to get them, they were really concerned with the image they projected, etc.
I’m likely autistic and I realize that’s a bad thing for insecure people. I often fail in using intonation and providing feedback to what people are saying, I have reduced affect display, poor eye-contact when I’m thinking or stressed, etc. When insecure people lack all the things that they are used to receive from neurotypical people, they project their insecurities and emotions on me. One guy screamed at me more than once because he thought I was angry at him when I wasn’t. Another girl thought I went around saying she was after money and status when I never did such a thing. (The thought didn’t even enter my mind… what the fuck?)
But that couldn’t just be it, could it?
I thought about T and I thought about M. Like all people, I knew they had insecurities. I wanted to make sure, so I asked them both a question: “Do you think you’re an insecure person?” T was extremely forthright with me. She said, “Yeah, sure I am” but she explained to me that her insecurities were not something she expressed externally. She internalized them. She understood well that her insecurities would not get resolved by projecting them externally. M had a very similar attitude about his own insecurities. The kind of person I can become close friends with started to become clearer.
—
One week later, I was in Toronto. I met up with two of my closest friends Sn and Se. I asked each of them whether they were insecure and what their insecurities were about. Sn took a little more time. At first, she thought she perhaps didn’t have any but eventually Se prompted some thoughts and she shared that she did indeed have insecurities about her boyfriend. I asked Se to answer the question and I was taken aback as to how quickly he named them. He didn’t even take a second the think about it; he just listed them one after another without pause. I thought to myself: He must have been thinking about it for a long time. Well, that makes sense – he is older.
Se looked at me and asked me if I wanted to know my own insecurity. Of course I do – tell me. Se told me that I was really afraid of letting people down. I was shocked. I might as well have been naked in front of him. I hadn’t spent that much time with Se. How did he see that? How did he know that? Maybe that’s why I grew such a quick kinship with him… he understood me.
Se left that thought in my head for several days. I contemplated messaging him about it, but I decided against it. He had a lot on his plate, and it wasn’t his responsibility to extrapolate my problems.
—
I spoke to D. This was a day before the autism assessment. I told him that Se was right. I hate turning people down. I’m a pushover; I always want to do what other people want to do. Is it really that obvious? D thought it was – that’s me as a person and what I project to people. He told me to really think why I did this. I told him wasn’t sure. He assured me it was very dark and very difficult, but he encouraged me to keep searching.
—
Assessment day comes and it’s an overwhelming experience. I cried a couple of time – not from feeling sad, but just overwhelmed with emotion. The psychiatrist asked me a very memorable question: “What are your fears?” I knew instantly – I told her my biggest fear is when people are upset. I told her I was especially afraid of upsetting people myself. She didn’t give me feedback; she was doing her job so she just continued writing.
When I was a kid, I dealt with trauma by myself. I didn’t have friends and my parents, like many Asian parents, were not emotionally present. I was often beat and yelled at for doing something wrong and I cried to myself in my room. Nobody consoled me as a young girl. I don’t think anyone wanted to console me – I was a weird and problematic child who needed to behave myself.
All throughout childhood, I felt like I was being punished for things I didn’t know I was wrong. It was a process of trial-and-error and I only realized that I was “misbehaving” when I was beat or sitting in the principal’s office, on the verge of getting expelled. I always tried to do what I was told – by the teachers, the other kids, my parents – sometimes I got rewarded and other times I got in trouble. It was truly scary and confusing to me as a kid.
I remember receiving an e-mail asking me to forward it and if I didn’t something bad would happen. After forwarding the e-mail, I remember being angrily confronted by a parent at school. That felt really bad.I remember writing a petition to get the French teacher fired because the other kids joked about it. I didn’t realize that they were joking and I took it seriously. I almost got expelled for that and that felt really bad too. I always went home trying to understand what I had done wrong, alone.
There is one particularly traumatizing memory: I was in grade 3. Once during class, I really needed to go to the washroom, but the teacher wouldn’t let me go. I didn’t know why I wasn’t allowed to go but stayed quiet and held it in. I was starting to hurt so I asked her again and she let me go this time. I headed down the hall and into the washroom but when I got there, it was too late… I peed myself. I remember the warm urine pouring down my leg and soaking my black corduroy pants. I remember those pants so vividly because they had such an interesting, ribbed texture. I didn’t know what to do so I went back to class and sat back down. I remember feeling wet, cold, uncomfortable and being sensitive to the smell of urine. I didn’t say anything, and no one said anything to me, even while sitting Indian style on the floor with the rest of the class. I just remember going home with urine-soaked corduroy pants.
Looks like I’m coming on here yearly basis now.
I think I’ve had too much white wine to think straight enough to write something meaningful so I’ll have to return sometime this week… But I had an urge to come on here and write something brief:
Things have been so rough but with the support of friends and family… I feel like I can conquer the world. I feel so much bliss… is it the alcohol?
Just landed in Vancouver and I’m excited to see my prairie artist boy. On the train there and trying to distract myself until I reach. It’s not working out all too well. ?
I did it! Exams are over and the weight’s finally off my shoulders. It’s a fantastic feeling and I’m super excited to celebrate with the class and to have a couple of drinks tonight.
I’m really proud of how well I’ve done. I didn’t think an A would ever be in my reach but now the target’s in my eyes. I’m going to stay diligent with my studies and hope I can keep this up for the years to come. I think it’s a real possibility I can be one among the top!
I’m done, I’m done, I can’t believe I’m done. I’m running around and trying to get stuff done as usual. I’ll be flying out in a couple of days to be with my boy. I can’t wait to be in his arms again. Aiieeeeee!!
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this. I can’t seem to get things right but I can count on myself to end up here feeling moments of self-doubt and inferiority.
I can’t stop fighting myself. I want this internal struggle between who I want to be and who I actually am to come to an end.
I don’t want to disappoint anyone anymore.
I got to see Sean and meet his wife. Apparently it had been twelve years since we’ve seen each other. It all seem so familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It was pleasant, refreshing and I’m really happy I had the opportunity to see them.
I still needed rest.
But there was work conflict… and colleagues running their mouth… so I was far from it. It was so frustrating that it made me cry. I’m embarrassed that friends had to see me like that. But it’s fine. I needed to stand up for myself. I’m so sick of being pushed over and surrounding myself with “fuck that bitch” attitude. If you have a problem, say it to my fucking face. Fuck, man. Forget it.
I aspire to be in a work environment where I can continue to learn and grow as a person and this environment is not it. I’m happy to be leaving the convention world for a while. I’m happy to finally step away and spend more time and energy on myself.
I missed my flight and I had to book a new one… I’ve been spending my day and night killing time in airports…
but it’s all over now. I know I can rest soon.
I’m doing my best in this situation. I really am.
I left Toronto just a few days ago. I packed for life abroad as well as I could and now my new life weighs about 50lbs. My mom and dad sent me off at the airport. It was sweet. My mom even took a selfie with me and I initiated a hug goodbye to my dad. I’ve never hugged my dad before in my entire adult life. I think this move will really help me connect with my parents. I’m going to be very mindful of keeping in touch.
This weekend was extremely hard on me. I flew into DC without much sleep. My back and my ankle had been hurting. The bolt’s are coming loose in my ankle and I think I’ve been carrying too much weight on my back. I just really want to rest… I couldn’t check in until 6pm so I killed time at the Museum of American History. I was much too tired to absorb any of the information I was reading but I tried my best to absorb the pleasantries of historical objects and an unfamiliar environment. I couldn’t stay long. I had run out emotional strength.
But I still couldn’t check in. I found myself at the bar at Farmers & Distillers to settle my hungry stomach and a have drink to put me at ease. A crossword over a martini picked me right up. Kevin, on the other side of the bar, treated me kindly. He made a makeshift steamed wetnap and treated me to a donut. He was pleasant company while I waited for time to pass.