|Morning Musings Directory|
|Season 5 – Winter 2020|
|Series 5– Starting Anew|
|Sunday 17th January 2021 – Walk Time 98Mins|
|The Dark Disillusionment of a Life Evolving Again.|
|NB: This may be read as a very dark post – it’s not, but they are darker musings than normal.|
It was good to be able to walk today, the skies were blue and there were very few clouds about overhead, just blue sky. It was cold, still damp from yesterday when the skies turned grey again and stayed that way all day – dark grey, uninviting, and unwelcoming – foreboding and wet. We have had a week of puddles so far, but then – today is the end of this last week and next week is to start soon.
Today’s walk was welcomed, it got me out of the house into the blue sky, and the fresh cold airs. My legs could stride out and my gait could start to balance again, my legs had been whining really since last Thursday when it was pissing it down, no politeness here, no ‘it was raining heavily’ … no, it was bucketing it down nonstop. A brief interval on Friday where l managed to get a small walk before it started to rain again. Then came yesterday another wipe out day .. a day when the Fitbit was straining on my wrist and demanding to know why l wasn’t doing stuff??
I walked a long walk, l needed to walk long and hard and fast to clear the muzziness from my brain …
I think l best get this next paragraph out of the way .. l am not feeling right, l am feeling disillusioned with a lot in my life at present, including my life … l know that the lockdown is finally starting to take its toll on my mind and my wellbeing. I am sick to the back teeth of it all … l am not alone … but finally my autism is starting to feel the banality of it all. My Asperger’s is starting to whisper dark thoughts into my head and l think on them. But so too is another disorder starting to make its presence known, it’s been creeping in for the last two months – little mistakes at first – l don’t live in my labels, l know who l am … l know my limits and my boundaries, l know what l can do and what l can’t. but that doesn’t always mean l understand my point … and that is when dark disillusions start to take hold.
I was diagnosed a few weeks after receiving my Asperger’s Syndrome diagnosis in 2008, with dysgraphia. I had always had very messy writing as a child, a confused and at times perplexed mindset. I could concentrate for unhealthily longer periods on fixed interests like l was dead or something. When young, my father would berate and discipline me for my errors and so like much of my life l learned to adopt a mask, l learned by rote learning, l disguised, and l hid much from the eyes of many. Practice something enough, you will master it!
I learned to disguise much through training myself to write, of course – it was usually only very skilled and patient teachers that could translate my scrawl as for most of the time, l couldn’t understand what l had written myself, so l was always pleased when someone else could see what l was trying to say with my words.
I discovered much to my relief that the more l wrote, the more l could curb the small errors with writing problems, and of course when l was able to type on a typewriter – things got easier … although with a brain typing faster than my fingers – little errors still got through and even with reading it through or proof reading, tiny errs managed to ease their way into paragraphs.
As a youngster, l was just called a sloppy writer and they blamed my mental hyperactivity for it, what was probably juvenile ADHD was just called back then an overactive child with a vivid imagination who struggled to concentrate on one thing as opposed to trying to focus on many things … multitasking too much. But it was never too much, because whatever l turned my hand to l had the patience and the determination to succeed .. l would not be told l was a failure by a father always eager to prove he was better than a ten year old.
It didn’t just manifest itself with my writing, but little coordination things – like tying laces up, buttoning shirts, holding things differently like pens and pencils but it was always the small fiddly things that foiled me … but with a father like mine at home who wouldn’t hesitate to lash out over the smallest of mistakes l learned to become really good at things … some things l would never master. I have never mastered writing by hand, which is why l, for one was super thrilled with typewriters and keyboards. I was thrilled with spellchecks – because l can type the error faster than l can notice it, but if stressed, l have to use spellcheck – because l do know how words are spelled, but l can easily miss errs proof reading.
Even today like now, this post is written directly into my editor, but also a Word Document, l proof read and proof read before publishing and still miss things, a classic case of not seeing the woods for the tree … after a post is published, l am proof reading for ten minutes clearing up errors that l was blind to.
But most of the time, l got through it via hard graft and learning by mistakes made and of course to avoid harsh disciplines from a father who liked to hit. I became good, l can spell words really well orally, but sometimes stumble when l am writing them … and as said if l get stressed, l made more mistakes. Reading has become a problem for me of late – words jump out at me from what l am reading from, making it difficult to concentrate at times … but, l am getting through it .. l just read slower some days. I know my limits and l know my boundaries … but l also know, when l am evolving on a much deeper level and that ‘s what happening to me .. l am searching for purpose and point.
My mother’s phone call upset the apple cart for me this week, it’s almost like she deliberately throws a spanner into the works and it’s like living through the haunting again .. something l have for many years not thought of. Of course, what l am l writing about? The Geist! That stirs memories up and not all of them good. I have to dig deep into locked vaults to craft that tale to bring it back to the surface and with it comes the darkness …
But l am evolving again, l am changing … and when l do, l become disillusioned with my life again until l resettle … l think about life and if l really enjoy it. I think if l could just switch off my own life support for a period of time, just to not exist for a while .. just to realign and reboot the system – reset not rewind, but we can’t do that, we must find a way of changing without resetting, rebooting, unplugging. But that’s not a notion completely out of my system, not yet…. and when l think like that, l then think about this blog … about deleting it and not start afresh, is that part of the new change also Rory? Who knows … point and purpose, purpose and point and resetting, resettling, rebooting, realigning and allowing life to continue …
Stress is the wrong word, l am not stressed in the conventional way … l am internally stressed but not, l am aware of my changes, the evolving – the creation of me again for this year … another year … it’s got to get better … l need to balance myself out again from the darkness of disillusionments and l will, it will again and when it does, the words will stop bouncing out at me …. l’ll stop thinking about pressing the bomb switch on my blog, l’ll stop doubting my ability as a person, a human being, l will start to value me again, l will remember my targets, my goals .. l will tell myself this damn belly of yours will get flatter old son, things take time, they always do and more so when you are seeking answers to point and purpose … it’s all part of life.
Of course, the pandemic and the damned lockdown, the prolonged lockdown, the curbing of life … they too take their toll on a human being … but hopefully, those too will be easier to live with …
Anyway, thanks for reading, catch you again.