This had various thoughts today, perhaps because I was weeding the psychology collection at work and so I was looking at books about mental health, autism, emotions and so on, throwing up all kinds of thoughts after work. I was too tired and depressed to read on the way home and so drafted this post on paper and thought a lot about it.
It wasn’t so much clear thoughts I was having as questions and fantasies. Questions about Asperger’s: do I have an innate theory of mind or have I just learnt to guess what others might be thinking from experience? (It is suggested people with Asperger’s Syndrome have impaired theory of mind.) But if I do have Asperger’s, why was I very capable of imaginative play as a child? Then again, if I don’t have it, why did I also love to make tableaux of my toys, which seems to be a cross between autistic and neurotypical play?
I also thought about relationships. What would it be like to be in a proper, mutually-loving relationship? [I had stuff here about my relationship that didn’t work out, but I decided to redact it. Suffice to say it wasn’t my fault it didn’t work out, but it leaves me wondering if anyone could ever really love me.] What would it be like to come home to someone who loved me and wanted to see me rather than a cold and lonely flat? At the risk of sounding vulgar, I even found myself wondering what sex feels like. Would I enjoy it or would it be like every other ‘normal’ pleasure that my depressive anhedonia (inability to feel pleasure) stops me enjoying? Or another physical thing that is too difficult with my mental health issues, borderline Asperger’s and neuroses? Like when my ex tried to kiss me and I hated it and found it initially disgusting and then when she tried to get me to trying again, I found myself literally unable to work out how to do it. Am I frigid, as she suggested? Will I ever get to find out? It seems unlikely, although I have sort of decided to go to a shadchan (matchmaker) soon if my parents don’t manage to set me up with the person they want to set me up with.
Sometimes it seems like vast, basic areas of human experience are shut off to me by my mental health, borderline Asperger’s and personality: love, sex, travel, alcohol, intense friendships, community… I don’t even remember my dreams most of the time, let alone have the kind of complex dreams with strong narratives and psychologically revealing symbolism that people like my father report.
I got upset and slightly scared by something at work which I’ve decided not to narrate as this post is too long and self-indulgent as it is (suffice to say I think I overheard some students being antisemitic). As I mentioned above, I tried to read on the Tube home, but was overcome with sadness and tears without being sure why. I don’t know why I write self-indulgent rubbish like this (which probably reveals too much about my ex, if anyone knows my real identity, which I don’t hide particularly well, but I need to try to process what happened to me somehow and it was several years ago, so I don’t know how many people who know me remember we dated). I guess I want to hear that someone understands or cares. I’m not sure that ‘likes’ on a blog post really do that, though.