I don’t know why it’s so painful to think that I’ll never be loved romantically/sexually, but it is.  I mean, there are lots of supposedly-pleasurable experiences that I’ve never tried and have no interest in trying, but somehow I can’t convince myself that this probably won’t make me feel much better either.  Who knows if I would even be any good at relationships?  (Although my exes didn’t seem to complain about my boyfriendness, just about values clashes or my financial situation.)  I’m not terribly good at most things, particularly not things that are emotional or physical rather than intellectual, and I don’t really enjoy many things at all (anhedonia).  E. once suggested that if I slept with someone, I would see that sex isn’t so great and stop thinking about it so much.  I know that I couldn’t cope with casual sex for both religious and emotional reasons, so that’s pretty much a non-starter.  And I suspect my first girlfriend was right about my being frigid, although she didn’t know about the autism.

***

I’m applying for a job with a massive, involved job description and a lot of responsibility, but which is part-time with relatively short hours and low salary.  I suspect this would be a high-stress job.  I suppose they are probably looking for someone at the end of their career, with lots of experience, but looking to wind down a bit and work part-time for a few years before retiring.  I applied anyway.

I started crying again partway through.  I really don’t want to be here (in my life).

***

I had another go at getting my new phone.  It turns out that I hadn’t ordered it on Friday, but I have done so now and the phone should be in on this Friday.  I felt embarrassed a lot while I was there, because I don’t really understand much about the process of getting a new phone and setting up a new contract and so was not properly prepared.  I don’t really care about phones or even use mine that much, so autistically I just ignore them and everything to do with them.  Then, when the salesman did a credit check, I had to admit that I’m nearly thirty-six, but am unemployed and live with my parents.  Why didn’t I get a new phone earlier this year, when I was working?

On the way to Carphone Warehouse (why do they still call themselves that when carphones don’t exist any more?), I got caught up in a group of Haredi mothers and their young children on the way home from school.  I thought one of them looked like someone I was at school with, although it was hard to tell as she was wearing a sheitel (wig), as per the frum (religious Orthodox Jewish) norm.  It would not surprise me if it was her.  I went to a Jewish school, albeit not a very frum one, but I think quite a number of people were “kiruved” (ugly word, half Hebrew, half English, for the process whereby non-religious Jews are encouraged/proselytised to become religious, usually by a formal outreach organisation or movement like Aish or Chabad).  I’ve come across some of the men I was at school with in my shul or the wider Jewish community around here, generally married with children, sometimes with smicha (rabbinical ordination).  I imagine there are more women, as I think more women become frum than men.

It is hard to know how to process this.  For one thing, it is hard to respect rabbis who I remember as not always well-behaved or intellectually outstanding schoolboys.  I suppose that’s a problem a lot of people have when the people they knew grew up.  (I’m sure there are people who were at Eton or Oxford in the seventies and eighties saying, “Boris Johnson?  Really?!”  Mind you, lots of people who weren’t at Eton or Oxford with him are saying that.)  But sometimes I wonder, if I had been “kiruved” in a more formal way, instead of resisting that and becoming frum in my own way, would I be integrated better into the community?  Would I be married with children by now?  (Kiruv rabbis apparently try to marry people off ASAP because early marriage is the norm, but, some say, because if you have a frum spouse, you are socially less likely to backslide, at least not overtly.)  Would I even be a rabbi?  But in order to be kiruved I would have had to have not been resistant to going to Shabbatons and social events, which would probably have meant that I wasn’t autistic (or at least I wasn’t bullied for being autistic), which in turn would trigger more changes downstream and I might not have ended up frum at all.

***

I just feel really lonely.  I try to keep busy, but when I stop, the loneliness comes back.  I feel so depressed and lonely right now and I don’t know why.  I should do some Torah study or work on the books I’m writing, but I just can’t.  It’s not even a question of having enough energy or motivation, my brain is just not working, not even for a few minutes.  I might try to go to shul later, as I don’t have to do much more than I would at home (I would daven at home), just cope with being in a social environment for half an hour.  Plus two twenty minute walks (after two fifteen minute walks earlier).  But I feel a bit agitated, so it will be good to walk.

***

I did a Blake’s 7 marathon recently (does it count as a marathon if you don’t binge-watch, but do one episode a day for months?  I don’t really binge-watch stuff) and I keep thinking about the end of my favourite episode, Star One.  The context is that Blake and his fellow freedom-fighters have discovered that the evil Federation is about to be invaded by alien from Andromeda.  Although they’ve been trying to overthrow the Federation, they decide that the Andromedans would be even worse and determine to take a stand to hold off the invasion force while the Federation brings in reinforcements.  Blake retires injured from the flight deck of the Liberator, leaving the cynical, self-interested Avon in charge.  When Avon doubts whether Blake really trusts him Blake responds, “For what it is worth, I have always trusted you.  From the very beginning.”

I keep replaying this in my mind and wishing that someone would say something like that to me.  That God would say that to me.  No one would, though.  Trusting me would not be a sensible idea (although whether trusting Blake and Avon was sensible is another question – spoilers!).  But still.  I would like to feel that I can do something worthwhile here, but I don’t.

2 thoughts on “Rumours of Death

  1. Interesting question about whether you might have been a rabbi if things had gone differently. Are there known autistic rabbis? It seems like something that would be quite hard to do with autism.

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  2. I don’t know of anyone who openly identifies as autistic and who is an Orthodox rabbi (I came across an autistic Reform rabbi online), but obviously there is no way of telling who is undiagnosed or keeps it quiet or whether any historic rabbis were autistic. While being a community rabbi would probably not suit someone on the spectrum, I think an autistic person who saw Talmudic study as their special interest could thrive as a scholar/Rosh Yeshivah-type of rabbi.

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