Draining Day

Today was the last of my semi-holiday days, as J is still off work isolating (back tomorrow) and there was no volunteering this week. However, I feel tense and am running late, and did not manage to do everything I wanted to do.

I slept far too long again last night, with bad dreams that I don’t remember (thus sparing you the details). I finally got the letter from the psychiatrist about changing medication yesterday, so I reduced the dosage of my olanzapine today. We’ll see how that affects both sleep and mood. Obviously I want sleep to improve and mood to stay the same (good), but we’ll see. I’m on three different drugs that increase tiredness (and weight-gain), so changing one may not do enough, and the others seem too important and useful to change. I don’t think I’m far enough in my recovery to stop my meds entirely, and maybe I never will be. I do want to have a morning though, to have more hours in the day; to daven Shacharit (say Morning Prayers) at the proper time, maybe even at shul (synagogue) post-COVID; to align my body clock more with PIMOJ’s (she’s early to bed and very early to rise); to be less fearful of oversleeping when I have work or volunteering… I’m fed up with being quasi-nocturnal, really, especially in the winter when I don’t get enough daylight.

It’s strange… feeling that I want to hibernate at this time of year is not new, but feeling physically tired without feeling particularly emotionally low is new. I’m not quite sure what to make of it. To be honest, despite having slept through the morning, I wanted to go back to bed after breakfast, although I didn’t.

***

I tried to work on my novel, but my brain was basically doing what my body did this morning: retreating into hibernate mode with the bedclothes over its head. The main thing I did was delete 90% of what I wrote yesterday as it wasn’t working. As for what I did write… I sat in front of the document for an hour or so, of which about twenty or thirty minutes was productive. I wrote 300 words, leaving me 100 words behind where I was before I deleted yesterday’s work. I managed to use the word “gastronome.” I guess I’m quantifying my life again to try to “prove” to myself that I’m doing things…

***

I went for a walk and did some shopping, and I wrote my devar Torah – in the end, I did write a new one rather than reusing an old one. I did a little Torah study beyond the devar Torah, finishing Emmanuel Levinas’ Nine Talmudic Readings. I did not understand all of it, but what I did understand made me want to read more Levinas, at least his writings on Judaism and perhaps some of his more general ethical writings. His sense of a responsibility that precedes contracts, precedes even freedom and itself is necessary for it to exist is rather lacking in the world around us.

***

My uncle, in Israel, has had the COVID vaccine. He’s the first person I know personally to get it, at least that I know of – I can think of some people I know who should have had it, or should get it soon, but I haven’t heard that they have yet. I guess that’s the advantage for my uncle of living in small country (the entire population of Israel is about the same as that of Greater London, something not usually made clear in news coverage).

Meanwhile, our new cleaner refused to wear her mask properly (nose uncovered) on the grounds that she couldn’t breathe properly. This led to mild anxiety that she’s infected us. I don’t think she’s coming again, although for reasons unrelated to COVID precautions.

***

The COVID anxiety has subsided, but I’ve had bits of stress building up in the last hour or two, as I need to get ready for work tomorrow and feel that I haven’t done everything I want to do, and also that tomorrow is going to be busy. At least I can see that stress is not depression or anxiety.

My Superpower: Super-Sleeping

I feel OK, mood-wise, if a bit low, but I’m frustrated about my super-sleeping. I slept for over twelve hours again last night. I woke up a couple of times in the morning, but was too tired (and too cold) to move and after a minute or two I fell back into a deep sleep. I find it frustrating as I would like a morning, and to be able to daven Shacharit (say Morning Prayers) at the right time. Or at all. Somehow I can get up for work and volunteering, but not in the absence of that obligation. I guess I should be looking for more obligations to get me up on other days, although I’m not sure that I could cope with more at the moment.

I think with both super-sleeping and putting on weight, that it’s easy to see myself as lazy and lacking self-control, which is probably not the root of the problem. Regarding weight: last night I didn’t eat junk or cereal, but I’m not sure if I can manage that tonight, when my mood is lower.

I guess, when I stop to think about where my life is at the moment, I’m glad, but also frightened. Frightened that I’m only halfway there (or less) and wondering if I’ll ever get anywhere close to 100% there, wherever “there” is. I’m glad I have a job, even if I can only manage a part-time, low-skilled admin job at the moment. I’m glad I have my parents and sister, I’m glad I have my friends, real-world and online. I’m glad I have a work-in-progress novel. I’m very glad I have PIMOJ. But I worry about getting stuck here, which would, in the long-term, mean going backwards, because some of these things are not sustainable in the long-term, at least not as they are now; I have to keep growing or regress. Often in life a lack of progress is really a regression; you can’t just stand still.

I don’t celebrate Christmas or New Year’s Day, but this time of year, the last week of the Gregorian calendar year, the “bleak midwinter” (if you will), is always tough. Everything is shut even without COVID, the days are short, the nights are long, the weather is cold and often damp and no one really wants to do anything other than slump in front of the telly and eat junk (or is that just me?). I guess it’s not a surprise that my mood has slipped a little today and that I didn’t make much progress on my novel. I did get 400 words written, which is something. Writing without inspiration can feel like trench warfare, where progress is measured not in miles or even feet, but inches. I spent about an hour and a half in front of the computer, but I suspect less than half of that could be called “writing.”

I went for a walk, only for half an hour, unfortunately. It was cold and, more to the point, I had to cook dinner (vegetarian curry). I did some Torah study and research for this week’s devar Torah, in an effort not to write about the topic(s) that I’m probably going to write about (one or the other). I was not particularly inspired this week, perhaps because I know I don’t need to be: I knew that I’ve got old divrei Torah for this sedra (Torah portion) that could be polished up and pressed into service this week. I don’t want to use them, I’d rather write something new, but I can’t think of anything new, and I’m running out of time. It’s not even a particularly boring or esoteric sedra (Yaakov (Jacob) blessing his sons on his deathbed).

***

A good NHS admin story! Last week I phoned my psychiatrist’s secretary to try to track down the letter that was supposed to have been sent to me and my GP about changing medication slightly to try to improve my sleep pattern. Well, today she (the secretary) phoned me back, told me she had sent the letter to the GP and offered to email it to me rather than post it to speed it up. Within a few minutes, I had received the email.

***

I’m not sure how much I agree with this old Psychology Today article about The Pathologizing of a Culture, but this section interested me:

A diagnosis has become confused with being an actual entity. A diagnosis should be a practitioner’s best effort to describe and summarize an individual’s challenges and circumstances and correlate that evaluation to a DSM descriptor. Instead, it has become concretized to be an actual thing.

Last week, as I was walking down the corridor from my office, I overheard a therapist speaking with another about their client. “Jane has ADD,” she offered. Tongue in cheek, I inquired, “What do you mean?” “My client Jane has ADD,” she once again proclaimed, bewildered by my feigned ignorance.

I corrected her as I asked, “You mean you see behaviors in Jane that conform to what we call ADD?” Diagnoses should not be confused with an actual material essence as much as they ought to be accurate descriptions for the purpose of coherent communication about a person’s circumstances. The diagnosis is a description, our best attempt to summarize the great complexity and inestimable variables that account for a person’s life.

“Diagnoses should not be confused with an actual material essence” seems to be something I should think about regarding my autism (the next stage of my assessment is next Tuesday…).

Dribs and Drabs of Inspiration

This seems like a hypersomnia blog far more than it’s a mental health blog these days. Anyway, I slept for nearly twelve hours again last night and woke feeling more tired than I went to bed. I only got up because I was embarrassed that my parents would find me in bed after midday.

I tried to work on my novel. I find it hard to get down to a new draft (the third draft). I opened the document and promptly started idly looking at news sites online. This kind of procrastination can actually be fruitful for me, as sometimes putting my brain in ‘idle’ for a few minutes can kick-start creativity, but that clearly wasn’t happening today. I knew I needed to write a new chapter near the beginning the book about my secondary character, to make her more prominent early on and develop her character, but I couldn’t think what kind of content will be suitable. It’s not exactly padding, but it’s going to be serving character rather than plot.

After a while I went for a run (forty minutes/5K, in the cold and dark) while my thoughts simmered in the background. I had a thought while running that got me a little bit further, and then another thought hit later in the evening to extend that, but I think this chapter is going to be tough. It needs to be written, though. I think the tendency of inspiration to come in dribs and drabs at odd moments is frustrating for me as someone who tends to measure my activity level somewhat obsessively to see the progress or otherwise of my mental health recovery.

I did some Torah study when I got home, and I didn’t get an exercise migraine, which was good. I did feel a general sense of frustration today about struggling to move my life on, particularly in terms of career.

I had a brief bit of anxiety in the evening, fears about my relationship with PIMOJ, that it won’t work out. I tried not to listen to the fears, but it’s not always easy, particularly as I know there is an obstacle for us to surmount that I won’t discuss here. This was probably triggered or worsened by watching the last episode of the first season of The Sandbaggers where the romantic relationship between two of the main characters is ended in the most brutal and permanent way. It was a good episode, in terms of writing and acting, but I think The Sandbaggers is too bleak to binge watch. It needs to be interspersed with lighter TV.

Relationship, Weight, Twitter and Doctor Who

I had another date with PIMOJ. We’ve had a lot of “walk and picnic in a park” dates of necessity, because of COVID, but we have been enjoying each other’s company enough for them to stay interesting. Today I asked if PIMOJ was ready for us to call ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend and she was really pleased and said yes. We had a good time, we make each other laugh a lot. We have very different personalities, but I think we share a lot of core values, and we find the personality differences stimulating.

We were together for about four hours, with maybe an hour and a half more travel time to and from the park, so I felt pretty exhausted when I got home. I was too tired to do much after that. I spent an hour or so finishing reading a book on domestic abuse in the Jewish community as research for my novel. I was pleased to see that it didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know, indicating that my research has been thorough. I just hope that comes across in the novel. Tomorrow I hope to start the third draft. I did about an hour of Torah study too, somewhat to my surprise.

My mood dipped a lot in the evening, to a level that would probably be mild depression if sustained over time. Sometimes when something good happens, my mood dips afterwards, perhaps as I realise that my life is going to change, even if in a positive way (autism doesn’t like change, even for the better). I also have a lot of guilt flying about at the moment, perhaps needlessly, connected in different ways to dating PIMOJ, whether it’s the guilt about my sexuality that I’ve been carrying for years or the fact that I know that E cared about me and that, even though we were not right for each other, and even though I did not rush from E to a relationship with PIMOJ, I still feel that E would be hurt if she knew that I have moved on and am serious about someone else.

***

I did feel a bit short of breath at times when PIMOJ and I were walking today, not bad enough that I had to stop, but I did slow down a little once or twice. I can’t tell if this is real or if it’s psychosomatic and I’m overthinking it. This is worrying me as it’s new.

It may be connected with being overweight, which is problematic as my weight gain has been from my medication and has not responded well to exercise. I haven’t really made significant dietary changes, although I did reduce my cheese and egg consumption a while back when I was told my cholesterol was a bit high (it’s crept up a bit again since then). I think I have put on more weight, although it’s hard to tell as I don’t weigh myself regularly. I do eat some junk food, but I feel not much, except on Shabbat when admittedly I do eat quite a lot, eating chocolate nuts mindlessly while reading or studying Torah.

I may have to try harder to control my weight with diet, but I’m not entirely sure how. I don’t want to quit eating junk food completely, but I may have to. In the past I’ve never managed to quit junk food entirely as, when I was depressed, I wanted to have some small treat to reward myself for getting through the day. I say I’m not depressed now, so maybe I can go without any junk at all, as if I was diabetic, but the thought of it does not fill me with enthusiasm.

I probably eat too many carbohydrates, but I don’t know how to cut them out without being hungry all the time. For reasons that would take a long time to explain, I think work has made my diet a little worse, in terms of eating more white bread and less wholemeal and more eggs again. I also often get hungry at bedtime and eat cereal and I don’t know whether that’s medication-induced or a bad habit or what. I already eat a lot of fruit and vegetables during the day, but I still get hungry, so it’s hard to switch more fruit and veg in instead of junk or carbs. I will try to go for a run tomorrow and see what happens in terms of shortness of breath.

Anyway, I’m not happy that I’m thinking about my weight in this negative way and having negative body image as even when my depression was at its worst, I didn’t have particularly bad body image. I didn’t have particularly good body image either, I just didn’t think about how I looked much and was too busy beating myself up for my thoughts and actions. But I have always wanted to be broadly healthy and I don’t think I am any more.

***

I deleted my Twitter account. I’d been thinking about it for a while, but the final straw was this post. Possibly I was a little impulsive, but I’ve felt that I’ve been on there too much lately, getting caught up in performative outrage. I don’t even post, just read, so I’m not even building online relationships, just watching other people get angry.

I worry sometimes about being in an echo chamber where I don’t hear opposing views. Then again, I constantly modify my political views, and I must get those new ideas from somewhere. I try to be open-minded, and to listen to people even if I don’t always go looking for ideas I disagree with, not least because I feel those views often attack me as a person. I probably do have a kind of Overton Window in my head that shifts back and forth.

This decision was confirmed by my starting to read Morality, Rabbi Lord Sacks’ z”tl book about the shift in the moral culture of the West from a communal focus to individualism with a resulting polarisation and inflaming of the public sphere.

***

I watched some Doctor Who (I didn’t feel in the right mood for the relative realism and cynicism of The Sandbaggers). Lately I’ve been watching season eighteen of the original run of Doctor Who, broadcast from 1980 to 1981, Tom Baker’s seventh and last in the lead role. I’m about halfway through, although I’ve seen the stories in it many times before. I’m not sure why I decided to watch the whole thing. I think DVDs have changed the way I watch TV from individual stories to whole seasons, even though the original run of Doctor Who didn’t have much continuity from one story to the next (although this season did, perhaps why I’m watching it as a whole).

It’s an odd season, based more around real science than most Doctor Who, and lacking in humour, but rich in world-building and atmosphere, albeit that I think the atmosphere comes from the direction, electronic incidental music and even costume design as much as the writing; certainly Logopolis, the season finale (in modern terms), lacks a lot of coherence in the writing and works more from imagery and the sobriety of Baker’s valedictory performance.

It’s a polarising season too; from broadcast onwards there was been a fan discourse that saw it as “adult” and “serious” and an improvement on earlier stories that were seen as “childish” and “silly,” but then revisionists switched those views around. The advantage of coming to original Doctor Who after it finished is not needing to take sides in debates like this; I can appreciate both sides.

This should probably have been on my Doctor Who blog, but it’s hard to feel bothered to write there when no one reads it, and when I feel I should post coherent essays, not little reflections.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

The main thing to report today is that I tried hard to get up when I woke up naturally this morning, not when I first woke around 5am, but when I awoke for the second time at 9am. I got up and sat on my bed, but I just felt so tired, I climbed back in and fell asleep again for nearly four hours! I wonder if I could force myself to eat something first, before getting back into bed, but there are prayers to be said on waking and when I feel burnt out and a bit low, it’s hard to get through them, although they only take a few minutes. Strictly speaking, one should say the whole of Shacharit, the Morning Prayer Service, before breakfast, which takes half an hour or forty minutes on a weekday (it varies a bit from day to day), and over an hour on Shabbat (Saturday), but I have been eating breakfast before Shacharit for many years because of depression. But I do like to say a few prayers before eating. But at the moment I also want to find a way to get up no later than 9am, and it’s hard to work out what to do.

There is no sign of the letter from my psychiatrist about changing my medication to sleep less. Realistically, it’s not going to arrive for a week or more now. She’s a good psychiatrist, but… NHS, useless at admin, etc…

I did about an hour and a half of Torah study on Friday night, which was good, except that I ate a lot of junk food at the same time. I’m not sure if there’s a causal relationship or not. I managed about an hour today. I seem to be doing OK on Torah study at the moment (where “OK” is a minimum of half an hour a day, and an hour or so most days).

And that was it for Shabbat (the Sabbath). Oh, I went to shul (synagogue) on Friday night. It was cold (the heating wasn’t on) and I sat in a draft from the door that we have to keep open because of COVID.

Tomorrow I’m seeing PIMOJ again. We’re rather stuck for ideas for dates when everything has to be outdoors. We just go to parks and eat lunch together. I guess it means we get to know each other well, but it would be nice if we could do something else. Anyway, tomorrow I hope to have the scary “I think we’re in a relationship, but I’m not sure if you do…” conversation.

Chores, Christmas and Punching Octopuses

Yesterday I was so tired that I went to sleep at 10.45pm. I slept until about 7am, then woke, but still felt tired and slept for another couple of hours. That may have been a mistake. I think maybe I should try to get up when I wake up, even if I feel tired or haven’t slept that long. (Realistically, I’m unlikely to wake before 6.00am unless a bomb goes off outside.) I had dreams that were slightly disturbing, but not interesting or insightful enough to be worth recording here.

Today was mostly another chores day. I went for a walk, did shopping and ironing, tidied my desk drawer and finished and sent my devar Torah (Torah thought) for the week. I’m not entirely pleased with my devar Torah this week. I know I say that a lot, but I’m really worried about bending my facts to fit my big picture interpretation this week. I would have liked to discuss it with my rabbi mentor, but I haven’t been able to get hold of him. PIMOJ liked it though.

I didn’t get to work on my novel. “Working on my novel” currently is reading a book on domestic abuse in the Orthodox Jewish community by Hasidic rabbi and practising psychiatrist Rabbi Dr Abraham Twerski. I haven’t learnt much from it, which is good inasmuch as it means my previous research, and the way I (tried to) use it in my previous drafts, are accurate. I suspected that this might be the case, but I thought that I couldn’t write a novel about domestic abuse set in the Orthodox community without reading one of the few non-fiction works about domestic abuse in the Orthodox community.

I finished reading Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs/Song of Solomon) in Hebrew with Rabbi Sack’s commentary, making three complete (and difficult) books of Tanakh (Hebrew Bible) that I’ve read in Hebrew this year, alongside much of Tehillim (Psalms). And I still have a week to try to squeeze in the very short book of Ruth! I haven’t read much commentary on them, though (the book I read on Iyov/Job was as much psychology as theology). I am hoping to get hold of this book, although probably not until the new year now. The other books I’ve read in that series have ranged been very good.

***

The rather self-pitying (or so I feared) comment about my experience of autism not meeting the “autistic superpower” narrative that I left on a mainstream news site has garnered twenty-eight upvotes in two days. I’m not sure what to make of this.

***

Tomorrow is 25 December. This is usually the day on which strange religious stuff is done, and for once it’s not me doing it. There are some amusing spoofs out there on what Christmas would be like if it was a Jewish festival e.g. the tree must be a minimum of three handbreadths tall and no more than twenty cubits tall; however a public tree may be any height because it is to publicise the miracle and no one fulfils their individual Christmas tree obligation through it. Rabbi Yehudah says the tree should be erected on 1 December, but the sages say it should be erected straight after Thanksgiving (this is all American) to go from one mitzvah to another. And so on.

However, this year 25 December coincides with the Fast of Tevet. I will not be fasting, because it’s not safe for me to do so on lithium (I only fast on Yom Kippur); still, it will be a bit more sombre than usual, although in the rush to get ready for Shabbat (which starts at 3.41pm) there won’t be much time for anything before shul (synagogue) in the evening and dinner after nightfall.

What I did do for Christmas was go to a Zoom class at the London School of Jewish Studies about the Jewish roots of the nativity story, given by Amy-Jill Levine, who is an Orthodox Jewish New Testament scholar. It was very interesting. There was an interesting suggestion that Jews are more open to multiple meanings of religious texts because Judaism is an ethnic identity rather than a religious one. Whatever interpretation a Jew makes of the Torah, they remain Jewish, whereas Christianity is a religion with a clearly-defined dogma, straying from which might conceivably carry a person out of the religion, so Christians see it as more important to find the correct interpretation of the Bible. I’m not sure that this is the only possible explanation, but it’s interesting.

***

We have a Brexit deal. I’m more confused than ever about what I think of this. Sometimes it’s tempting to wonder what it’s like to have the certainty of the single-minded on both sides. In any debate (not just Brexit), I tend to see points on both sides. My university essays were masterpieces of fence-sitting.

But the news story that I heard today that I keep thinking about is that scientists have discovered that octopuses sometimes “punch” fish out of “spite”. See here for video footage. Remind me never to upset a spiteful octopus. (They are actually really clever animals.)

Volunteering, Relationships and Tea

I went volunteering again this morning. There are basically two groups of tasks, packing food parcels (mostly in the garage) and shlepping (carrying, but you probably knew this word) food parcels into different sized piles for different communities and then from piles into the cars that are transporting them. The packing is mostly done by women mostly around my parents’ age or a bit younger; the shlepping is mostly done by younger people, some I think working professionally for the organisation that organises the food parcels or subsidiary organisations, some possibly on gap years doing voluntary work. (A lot of Jewish teenagers spend a year in Israel between school and university. Some, mostly the more Orthodox teenagers, go to yeshiva (rabbinical seminary) or sem (women’s seminary), but most teenagers go on organised programmes with Jewish youth organisations that mix volunteering, study and sight-seeing. I didn’t take a gap year at all.) None of these programmes are running this year because of COVID and I’m not sure what has happened to those teenagers, so I’m guessing that some of them are here, but maybe not. Anyway, the last few weeks I’ve been in the younger, shlepping group instead of the packing group. There isn’t really anyone my age, so far as I can tell. I guess they’re working. Probably most of the volunteers are unemployed or part-time, hence mostly very young or older women.

I still worry that I’m not helping effectively or that I’m just waiting around some of the time not sure what to do. I tried watching people today and I was glad to see I’m not the only one who sometimes getting things confused or has to check which bags go in which pile/car or is just hanging around not sure what to do. Still, I worry I do these things more than other people, and that my habit of repeating instructions either to myself or as a query, to help me check I understood and to remember, is annoying people. I assume if I was actually a liability they would ask me to stop coming, but who knows?

I feel a bit like every Wednesday I write a “I went to volunteering and I worry I messed it up, but who knows?” post.

I came home hungry and tired. I spent the afternoon doing various chores, notably sorting out some issues with my bank accounts and purging a lot of old emails. I did about an hour of Torah study (Rabbi Lord Sacks’ commentary to Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs) in his Pesach Machzor (Passover prayer book) is really helpful despite being short).

***

It was suggested in the comments section to a recent post that I should ask PIMOJ if we are “officially” boyfriend/girlfriend as I was assuming we were, but worried that PIMOJ doesn’t see it that way for various reasons. I was going to text her and drafted something, but I mentioned it to my parents and they said it should be done in person. I bowed to their opinion – given my lack of dating experience, I tend to be easily influenced by others regarding dating, especially as my brain is running a “I’m autistic, I don’t understand people and relationships” programme. So that will be hanging over me for a while, even if I get the courage to ask her and if she says yes. I think she will. She seems keen, and for Chanukah she gave me (among other things) a book about being a Jewish husband, which seemed a rather big hint that maybe I missed a bit. But, as I said, I’m autistic and I don’t understand people and relationships.

Instead, I drafted an email to her. She had asked about my childhood. I had some difficulties at that time that I don’t really mention here, as they are not entirely mine to share. I wanted to share some of that with her although I’m not sure how she will react. She probably does need to know a little of it if we are going to try to build a relationship, not to mention having children of our own. I hoped to at least send that, but I’m too tired and don’t want to send it while I’m half-asleep and might say something I regret. I have the day off work tomorrow as J is isolating, so hopefully I can finish it then.

***

My consumption of tea has shot up over the last year or so. I seem to be unable to sit down to any difficult or unpleasant task without making a cup. It’s not the caffeine, as decaffeinated in the evenings is fine. It could be a procrastination tool (and probably is, on some level), except that once I’ve made the tea, it does genuinely seem to help. I don’t make coffee so much, just one cup at breakfast and sometimes a second (and, shockingly, a third one day recently) if I feel really tired.

“Prediction is difficult, particularly about the future”

I had mixed feelings about an online article on autism and left a comment, even though I don’t usually comment on that particular site (it’s mostly politics articles, and while the articles are interesting, the comments are often angry and lacking nuance). I’m not linking to it as I had to post the comment under my real name. I said that the difference between “high functioning” and “severe” autism is not always clear-cut, that I was extremely high functioning in the structured environment of school and got to a very good university, but I struggled there and even more since then. That I’m thirty-seven and have never had a full-time job or a relationship that lasted more than a few months, nor have I ever built my friendship network the way I would have liked (although I do have some friends, albeit many online). That like a lot of people on the spectrum I’ve spent much of my life struggling with mental health issues. I don’t consider myself to have “autistic superpowers” and I worry about how I will cope with the world when my parents aren’t here to help me.

In retrospect I’m not sure if I should have posted it. The line between “sharing experiences” and “self-pity” can be a fine one for me and I’ve crossed it many times in the past, usually when feeling upset and left behind by life or by my peers. That said, and very much to my surprise, within a couple of hours it had become the comment with the most upvotes on that article, and by a considerable margin, so I suppose some people thought it was a worthwhile contribution.

***

My main achievements for the day were cooking dinner (lentil dal and rice) and going for a run, the latter rather later than I wanted, after dark, as I made sure to cook dinner first in case I got an exercise migraine. I don’t think I was unusually short of breath, so perhaps the recent shortness of breath is a mask side-effect after all. I did come back with a headache though. I didn’t feel up to doing much Torah study with a headache, so I listened to an online shiur (religious class) rather than read Torah. I’m trying to listen to shiurim more, particularly on days when I feel depressed, tired or otherwise unable to read Torah. I do see shiurim as somewhat second-best, though, as I internalise ideas much easier in written form than spoken, not to mention that I feel that written information is “denser” than spoken i.e. I will come across more new ideas in an hour of reading than an hour of listening to a shiur. I’m not sure how true that feeling is.

***

My line manager, J, texted me to say that he is self-isolating after coming into contact with someone with COVID at our shul (synagogue), I assume/hope not at a service where I was present, as I haven’t heard anything. He has been going to shul a lot more than me in the pandemic, so it’s quite likely that that’s the case. So, no work this Thursday, or next Monday, which is bank holiday anyway.

***

I phoned my psychiatrist’s secretary to chase the letter I was supposed to have about changing medication to make me less tired. The secretary says that she was not told to write a letter and that she will have to speak to the psychiatrist, so another NHS error. I’m worried that this won’t be resolved until the new year. We ❤ NHS.

***

The Economist does a “world next year” publication at the end of each year. I’m amused that they’re still doing one for 2021, even though I’m pretty sure their 2020 edition failed to predict the pandemic, which dominated every aspect of the year, even more than either Brexit and the US election (which had its own surprises, such as Trump increasing his vote in absolute terms, but still losing). The BLM protests in the USA were unprecedented in their size, and the fact that they spread to other countries and no one predicted that. No one guessed that Israel would normalise relations with a slew of Arab countries either. “Prediction is difficult, particularly about the future” is a saying attributed to many different people, but it’s very true whoever said it.

I wish journalists would stick to reporting facts rather than trying to seem super-clever by predicting the future. Unfortunately, it’s cheap copy – it’s much cheaper to sit at your desk guessing what might happen instead of going out and asking people what did happen. No one remembers the failed predictions, so there’s no downside to it from the journalists’ point of view. It also means people you don’t like don’t actually have to do bad things for you to be able to criticise them, it just has to be possible for them to do bad things at some point in the future.

For example, at one point this summer, there were four different articles on the BBC’s Middle East news page saying that Israel was going to annex the Jordan Valley and asking if this would start a war. In the event, Israel didn’t annex the Jordan Valley, and the idea that it might looks like a bit of diplomatic maneuvering to get the Emirates/Bahrain peace deal. The BBC never retracted anything. It never does. About the same time, there was a skirmish on the Indo-Chinese border in which several soldiers were killed, which potentially could have started a war between the two most populous countries in the world, both nuclear-armed. It barely registered in Western news media. There’s a lot of ways you could understand this, none of them good.

(Coincidentally, I just came across a load of newspaper clippings on Twitter showing senior US politicians and health experts (not just Trump and, yes, including Democrats) saying in February that COVID wasn’t a serious problem and that people should celebrate Chinese New Year in big crowds as normal.)

Short Update

Sorry for the meaningless title. I hate picking titles, and this post is less than 500 words long, with no real theme.

Not a lot to report today. Work was fine. I’m taking an inventory of various assets, mostly in the form of antique Jewish ritual objects. I don’t really want to go into what they are and why we have them, as I’m trying to avoid making where I work obvious. It’s at least different, but also a bit frustrating, inasmuch as I have some documentation, but it’s not always clear, and sometimes I’m comparing two or three different objects of the same kind to see which one best fits the description. But the day passed quite quickly. I did make some mistakes when writing invoices though. I hope these are learning experiences.

A job that I “should” have applied for (entry-level librarian job at a major London museum, part-time) came up just now and I don’t have the confidence to apply for it – no confidence in my ability to do the job or my ability to cope with more hours than I’m currently doing.

I decided not to contact my GP for now regarding sleep and tiredness issues, but I will try to phone the psychiatrist’s secretary tomorrow to chase the letter that will change my medication. I think it’s worth seeing if the medication change I agreed with the psychiatrist works before pursuing other avenues.

I “went” to Zoom depression group. I didn’t have much to say, but thought I could at least listen to other people. However, I struggled to concentrate. I find concentration hard on Zoom anyway and I think going after work meant that I just couldn’t keep up. It’s probably worth still going, though, as I would still like the option to talk, and it’s good to hear how other people are doing even if I probably won’t remember much of it half an hour later.

I spoke about my job and my fears of messing it up, but I didn’t go into details. I didn’t mention PIMOJ. Whenever I think I could mention her, I think that we could have broken up by the next time we speak and then I’ll have to tell everyone we’ve broken up. I’m also not sure what to say at the moment. PIMOJ keeps saying that we’re “getting to know one another” and I’m not sure if she’s waiting for me to say that we’re in a relationship. I’m pretty bad at knowing what to do in these situations and I think she is, if anything, less experienced and confident than me. I’m pretty sure that she’s keen to continue, but I’m not sure what to say.

Date and Memorial Service

I got up early to go for a walk with PIMOJ in Golders Green. Although PIMOJ is adventurous and likes doing new things, she seems quite comfortable doing things repeatedly too, which is useful as autism doesn’t like novelty much, and because there isn’t much to do in the winter with COVID shutting everything down. We had a good time and opened up to each other a bit, I think. It definitely seems that there’s some “opposites attract” with us, admiring the other’s traits that we don’t have.

After walking for a while, I began to feel a bit faint and short of breath and had to sit down for a few minutes. I was perhaps dressed a little over-warmly for the weather. Later, walking up the stairs at the Tube station with my mask on, I felt short of breath again. I have been slightly short of breath at volunteering lately, again with a mask, although I wasn’t wearing a mask when I had to sit down. It is hard to breath with a mask, but I guess it’s also something to mention to the GP.

In the afternoon I worked on my devar Torah (Torah thought) for well over an hour, which was more than I expected, especially as it is still not finished. It is uses more sources than usual, and is also more creative, making me rather nervous about presenting it, worried that I have got carried away with my essential idea, that Rambam’s (Maimonides’) moral categories of “balanced” sage and “pious” saint are two complementary models of religious leadership, the former for times of stability and the later for times of crisis; and that Yehudah (Judah) and Yosef (Joseph) are, if not models of the two, then at least incline towards them. I wish I had more time or ability to bounce this idea off people and see what they think before sending it out into the world.

I then spent half an hour reading a book on domestic abuse in the Jewish community as research for my novel. Then in the evening I had a Zoom shiur (religious class) at the London School of Jewish Studies. Actually, it wasn’t exactly a class. It was supposed to be the launch of Rabbi Lord Sacks’ latest book, except he passed away a few weeks ago, so it was part book launch, part memorial service. They had thirteen Jewish educators who were, in different ways, Rabbi Sacks’ students, speaking about him and his ideas.

I found it quite moving and at times difficult to watch. There were a lot of mixed feelings, some of which I have noted before. There was the feeling of loss about Rabbi Sacks’ death, and the feeling that I will never get to speak to him, and that maybe I could have spoken to him if I had tried hard enough, but what would I have said?

There was also the feeling of inadequacy I have at LSJS events, that I should get on with these people, that they are on my wavelength and must have a similar worldview, but I’m always too shy to speak up at classes, whether to ask or answer questions or volunteer ideas, so no one there really knows me. Also that many of these educators are not that much older than me, but I have not done anything with my life the way they have (PhDs, rabbinic ordination, written books etc.). I wonder how I can rectify this, and I don’t really know.

One teaching today impressed me so much as relevant here that I wrote it down so I could quote it correctly. Tanya White was speaking about suffering. Rabbi Sacks, inspired by Viktor Frankl, and said that suffering is inevitable, but that “Healing comes when we refuse the self-definition of victimhood,” that we can choose our response to suffering. It strikes me that this is hard today in a time of competitive victimhood; we have to consciously choose not to define ourselves as victims, but to find a more positive and proactive way of understanding ourselves.

Driven To Tiers

So, on we go to Tier 4 (in COVID restriction regulations), the COVID equivalent of “It goes up to eleven.” Apparently, I can still meet one person from not in my household if we meet outside, which means PIMOJ and I can still go out tomorrow, which is good, but Mum and Dad were hoping to have dinner in my sister’s garden later in the week, which is now forbidden.

I can’t actually remember much of what happened over Shabbat (the Sabbath). I was really tired on Friday, but forced myself to do my usual chores and get to shul (synagogue) on time. I still don’t like shul with COVID restrictions, but it’s good to go once a week. I read a lot, a lot of religious reading and some recreational reading, mostly Doctor Who Magazine, the current issue and also the twenty-four year old back issue I bought recently. I enjoyed the back issue a lot; the current one, more moderately. I read a bit of the book I’m reading at the moment, America During the Cold War, a reader on American history in the Cold War era, but I’ve been struggling to get into it so far.

I did have a dream that upset me a bit. I can’t remember the details now, and I wouldn’t go into them if I could, but it was bringing up things I’ve been feeling guilty about recently. Ashley asked recently if I think all my dreams are trying to tell me something; this is a good example of one that I do not think is telling me something, but is just processing recent thoughts and conversations, but it was still uncomfortable to wake up from.

As with the last few weeks, I intended to stay up reading, but got tired around 11.15pm and went to bed. I slept until 7.00am, when I decided I was still tired and would doze for another hour. I then slept for another five hours, and then napped for half an hour in the afternoon. This is beginning to feel wrong to me. I seem to be tired so much of the time, and to be sleeping so long, and it’s hard to see it as being part of my depression when my mood is so much better. I don’t remember being this tired while depressed for a long time (when I was very depressed I was hiding in bed as much as sleeping in it). I suppose it could be my medication, but in 2018, when I was very depressed, but on these meds, I was working four days a week at times, which I could not manage now (admittedly sometimes I had to dose myself up on coffee to avoid falling asleep at the desk).

I’m beginning to wonder if I have some other illness such as chronic fatigue syndrome, but am scared to investigate for fear of being a hypochondriac or diagnosis-shopping, and Occam’s Razor would suggest the medication is the issue. Something does feel “wrong” though, even though it’s hard to quantify what “wrong” is. How does one measure and quantify fatigue? And compare with fatigue of years ago?

My parents suggested trying to get a phone appointment with the GP this week, which I will try to do, but I do feel like a hypochondriac, even though something feels wrong and I am the expert on how I feel.

Hyperfocus, Procrastination and Spies

I was able to spend longer on Shacharit (morning prayers) yesterday and got a lot out of it. I wanted to do the same today, but struggled to get up and get going again, feeling tired after yesterday. I’m glad the emotional symptoms of depression are largely (although not entirely) gone, but I wish the physical symptoms (oversleeping, lack of energy) would go too as they really stop me living the life I want to live. I struggle to understand why one has gone and not the other (autistic burnout is a possible explanation, or partial explanation). That said, I did get up a bit earlier than I had been even on work days, and spent a bit longer on Shacharit, even if not as much as I would have liked.

I felt very tired on the train into work and was unable to do much Torah study. It was hard enough to stay awake, and it took two cups of coffee at work (after an earlier one at breakfast) to wake up enough to work adequately.

Work was OK. I was doing something that was not, in the abstract, particularly interesting, but I got involved in it. I know I feel negative sometimes about the presentation of high-functioning autism as a positive thing, but maybe I do have the ability to focus on things that are not so interesting. I do still worry about making mistakes. I feel that I am less meticulous than I used to be, and I don’t know why. It occurred to me today that maybe my anxiety about making mistakes is actually causing me to make mistakes.

I did also realise that procrastination for me is more about anxiety than boredom. When I started the task, I was daunted by it and worried that I would mess it up and I was easily distracted, but as I got hold of what I had to do, it became easier to focus on it.

***

I dreamt last night that I was with one of my shul (synagogue) friends and realised he was abusing his wife and children. I woke up feeling guilty that I could think that about him even on an unconscious level (he’s a nice person and I’m sure he treats his family well), but I also tried to work out what my mind was trying to tell me. My best guess is that I’ve had a break for a couple of weeks from my novel, which deals with themes of domestic abuse, and my unconscious is sending me a message to get back to work.

***

I seem to be on a spy kick at the moment. James Bond, writing about John le Carré yesterday and now I’m watching one of my Chanukah presents, the DVD of The Sandbaggers. This is a 1970s TV spy drama. I heard about it years ago, but only got around to checking it out now. It’s my sort of spy drama, low on violence and action, but with lots of politics (Cold War geopolitics, but also internal politics in Whitehall), jargon and strong characterisation. I’ve only seen the first two episodes, but they were very good.

That makes three strong “new” (to me) TV series I’ve seen this year: Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes, Twin Peaks and now The Sandbaggers. I’ve also dated two women and found a job, (re-)started volunteering and got to a much more stable place of mental health. Dare I say it, I think my 2020 has actually been better than most people’s. Even the biggest personal shock/worry – Mum’s cancer – turned out alright (cured), albeit with the usual caveats about worrying about cancer returning.

Celibacy

Despite my worries, I managed to get up early for volunteering and got there on time. It was fine. A couple of people asked if I was OK as I haven’t been for a fortnight, which was nice. I’m always amazed when people notice I’m absent. Someone donated fresh jam donuts for the volunteers and I had one. Possibly my waistband says I shouldn’t have. I still feel that I make mistakes and do stupid things there, although it’s more that what seems logical to me doesn’t always seem logical to other people and vice versa for various (autistic?) reasons. Sometimes it’s probably poor executive function or me not processing spoken instructions properly, but other times it can be me applying rules over-rigidly. Then again, maybe I’m being perfectionist and looking to autism to excuse behaviours that don’t really require excusing (again).

I was pretty exhausted in the afternoon and didn’t do very much other than a few minor chores. I intended to listen a shiur (religious class) that I missed, but it wasn’t up online. I did some other Torah study, but it was just bits and pieces, little audio vorts (short religious ideas) and articles in a religious magazine. I couldn’t face anything heavier. I did a little bit of ironing and thought about trying to force myself to do more chores, but I was worried about being burnt out tomorrow when I have work. I wish I knew why I still get so tired so easily even with the mood aspect of depression being rather easier than in the past. I just read and watched DVDs. I had been eating dinner in front of the Chanukah candles this week, but at dinner today I was drained and couldn’t face eating dinner alone with noise from my parents’ TV and ended up eating in my room, which was also alone and with TV, but at least it was my TV.

Reading this back, I see I actually did quite a lot, but I still feel guilty about not doing “enough” and not having “enough” energy considering I’m not depressed “any more”. There probably are imaginary standards of “normality” and “mentally ill” here that aren’t helpful to me.

***

I saw the next two paragraphs a few days ago on Elisheva Liss’ Jewish mental health blog. The bit I’m about to quote actually isn’t the main point of the post, but is the part that is pertinent to me and set me thinking.

As a woman, I don’t pretend to understand what it’s like for a young man to grow up in a society where extra-vaginal ejaculation is forbidden, especially in such stark contrast to the permissive sexual norms of the broader secular culture. I see the struggle, the emotional and sexual complexity involved…

What I do know, is that from the onset of puberty at anywhere from around ages 9-14, until marriage, which doesn’t happen until at least the ages of 18-22, boys are expected to both not have sex and to try not to ejaculate. I’m fairly certain that the majority are unable to completely refrain from any masturbation, fantasy, or ejaculation during these hormonal and turbulent developmental years. The way they navigate this challenge often impacts their self-concept and adult relationships. Some repress developing libido and disassociate from their sexual selves. Others split, embracing one conscious, religious identity, and another secret sexual life, often involving pornography and sexual experimentation. Still others recognize that the ideal they are presented with might be unrealistic for them, and try to limit sexual behavior, while allowing for and forgiving their human needs.

This isn’t really spoken about in the frum (religious Jewish world). I’m conscious of not wanting to reveal my entire life history online, but also of wanting to talk about this for reasons that are not entirely clear to me. (I’ve tried speaking about it in therapy, but I feel that writing this has made me realise there’s a lot more to say there.) My background is that I was brought up traditional, but not fully Torah observant and gradually became more observant in my teens. At the same time, I went to a co-educational (Modern Orthodox Jewish) school and eventually became interested in girls when I was about sixteen (I was a late developer, which I definitely think was a blessing). I also had sex education, at home and at school, but it was pretty functional. It was not the Haredi minimal or no sex education, but it focused on the biological “How do we make babies?” side of things. It was a long time before anyone ever really spoken to me about the emotional side of things, and probably most of the conversations I have had about dating and sex have been in therapy.

The problem with this is, being (probably) on the autism spectrum, I do not always pick things up easily if they aren’t explicitly spelt out to me, particularly regarding social interactions. No one ever said anything about masturbation, but somehow I intuited that it was wrong, and that sexual fantasy was likely to lead to it. Pornography was a lot harder to access when I was a teenager than it is these days, but there was already a lot of quasi-pornographic imagery in society; I think the infamous Wonderbra “Hello Boys” billboard advert (the one that supposedly caused numerous car crashes from men looking at the model’s cleavage and not at the road) came out shortly before I hit puberty, and there was a lot of similar adverts around and, anyway, you shouldn’t underestimate what sexually-frustrated teenage boys can find arousing (illustrations of Dark Elf warrior women in the Warhammer rule book…).

Being autistic, depressed and socially anxious did not make it easy to find girlfriends, or to work out how to find girlfriends (to this day, my few relationships have been either via dating websites or from the other person making the first move). During my time at school, I hardly spoke to girls, except a bit to my best friend’s girlfriend. In retrospect I wish I had, as looking back I see that there were intelligent, gentle girls in my year and even in my social group, and maybe my life would have gone differently if I’d just tried to talk to them, not necessarily to date, but just to get practise socialising with women, but I was too shy to really speak to them. I had a huge crush on one girl throughout my time in the sixth form (equivalent of high school, broadly), but was rarely able to speak to her and when I did, I think she was bored and embarrassed by me.

I did manage to build female platonic friendships at university, but that backfired when I asked one out. I was twenty, and it was the first time I had ever done that. She wasn’t interested and it ended badly.

I didn’t actually go on a date until I was twenty-seven. I’m now thirty-seven and still a virgin and unmarried. I don’t have any particular animus about the Jewish “no sex before marriage” rule, as I know that, emotionally, I couldn’t cope with casual sex anyway. I’m sure some people can, and chafe at the rule, but I know I can’t. I have just slowly begun another relationship, but there are reasons, that I won’t go into here, that mean that it will be years before we can get married, should we decide to do so, so I’m stuck with celibacy for now.

I can’t really put into words the huge amount of frustration, fascination, confusion, envy, guilt and even anger I feel around sex and celibacy. There is also fear, but I wrote about that on Hevria a number of years ago. (That’s aside from the worry that I have so much anxiety around sex that I’ll never be able to have a genuine healthy sexual relationship, even if I get married.) As a frum Jew, I’m not supposed to talk about it; as someone somewhat internet-savvy, I’m worried about being branded a misogynist “Incel” just for raising the topic. I’ve spoken about it in therapy quite a lot, and in more detail than I will go into here, but somehow I feel that I’ve never got to the bottom of it. I’ve barely spoken about it with my current therapist, even though I’ve been seeing her for over seven months. I don’t have the words. I’m not sure if that’s because of my upbringing or my issues.

From adolescence onwards, I’ve had a huge amount of guilt and shame around my sexual thoughts and feelings. For many years I tried to repress them and mostly failed. I’m not sure if it is really feasible to repress sexual thoughts and feelings long-term; it’s certainly not possible if one is at all engaged in hyper-sexualised Western society. Sometimes I can see why Haredi (ultra-Orthodox) Jews try to avoid Western society entirely, but I know that’s not my path.

One of the reasons I didn’t go to yeshiva (rabbinical seminary) between school and university as many people expected to was because of feelings of guilt around sex and the belief (which I now realise was completely mistaken) that I was the only frum or would-be frum teenage boy struggling with it. Admittedly there were half a dozen other reasons I didn’t go to yeshiva, but that decision had massive repercussions for the rest of my life, down to today, including why I feel so unmarriable in the frum community. I already had low self-esteem and a tendency to over-intellectualise things, and that and the added sexual guilt probably triggered an emotional downward spiral that fed in to my depression. It may not be coincidental (although it has only occurred to me writing this) that my first episode of depression followed about six months after the start of my first “real” crush (by which I mean the first one where I actively thought and fantasised about her all the time when she wasn’t around, rather than simply feeling vaguely anxious and attracted when I saw her).

Sometimes I feel that it’s eating away my insides. I feel that, at thirty-seven, I should not be desperate to have sex, and certainly I know it’s a bad idea to get married just to have sex. I wonder if I will ever be “ready,” emotionally. I can’t shake the feeling that middle aged sex (which is all that’s left for me) is dull and perfunctory and that if I was going to ever enjoy sex, it would have happened before now. I know this isn’t true, but it’s another lie the media perpetuates, and I can’t shake free of it.

Another thing I’ve never really got to the bottom of is whether I really want sex, or just (“just”?) intimacy. To be honest, I probably want both, and that’s probably healthy; I don’t think secular society, which says you can have healthy sex without intimacy, is particularly well-adjusted in that way. But if I absolutely had to choose, I think I would choose emotional intimacy over sex. I think that’s my absolute desire in many areas: marriage, yes, but also I want a few close friends (rather than many distant ones) and my conception of Heaven is an intimate closeness with God and perhaps with loved ones. But a successful, intimate marriage is the one I want most of all. Although I don’t feel myself particularly successful at achieving intimacy in those other areas either. I think I’m a very lonely person, and have been since my teens. Again, I can blame autism, depression and social anxiety, but I’m not sure how helpful that is.

I’m not sure what I want in writing this. I think a lot of it is about recognition. That I think I’m carrying some kind of burden by following Jewish law in this area, and especially doing it while more open to the sexualised Western culture than some parts of the community. I think it’s the best – or least worst – option for me right now, for a host of halakhic (Jewish legal), emotional and moral reasons, but it’s still a burden and one I hope I will put down one day, but fear that I will be carrying it for a long time. And somehow I want that acknowledged, which it isn’t, not by hyper-sexualised Western society or by the frum world, where most people are married by twenty-five. In some ways I don’t mind that many non-religious would not understand why I’m doing this, but I feel that I would like people in the frum community to understand the strain of long-term celibacy for “older singles,” beyond issues like loneliness, not fitting into the community etc. (not that those are particularly well-appreciated).

Actually, I’m not sure how much is recognition from society and how much is recognition by myself. That I really want to hear (ideally from God, but at least from someone frum who knows me well and who I respect) that I’m a good person, that I’ve done well in staying a virgin all these years, despite my failure to be 100% Torah observant in other areas of sexuality.

***

Today’s donuts: jam (very fresh) at volunteering.

Spies

I had a relaxing evening yesterday, eating dinner with my parents by the Chanukah lights and then spending some time reading a novel, which I haven’t had much time/energy for lately. It’s too easy to prioritise religious reading over recreational reading, and then be too tired to read for fun and just vegetate in front of the TV instead.

I woke up very drained today again. This is what frustrates me most, constantly waking up so drained and burnt out, particularly after busy days, and only slowly being able to motivate myself and get going, particularly on non-work days. I’m not sure how I manage to get going faster on work days. If I worked every day, would I get up earlier and get going faster, or would I just crash and burn after a while?

I took today as a mental health day, really, because I’ve been feeling so overwhelmed lately and close to relapsing into depression. Even so, doing nothing, or not much, makes me feel guilty, so I can’t win, especially as I tend not to do anything relaxing, because that would provoke even more guilt, so I just procrastinate while trying to do things.

I was glad that I didn’t have much to do today, mainly cooking dinner (Hungarian pepper ragout) and writing my devar Torah (Torah thought) for the week, which was easier than I feared it would be. We (my parents and I) also went to my sister and brother-in-law’s house for socially distanced Chanukah donuts in the garden, hours before the tier 3 quasi-lockdown comes into effect. Cooking was a real effort. I enjoyed seeing my sister and BIL, but I am worried that we were out rather late and I have to be up early for volunteering tomorrow morning. I don’t want to oversleep, as I’ve missed the last two weeks.

Today’s donut: white icing, and then I was prevailed upon to have another, chocolate-filled. I think the second one was probably a mistake, all things considered.

***

I’m reading the James Bond novel Doctor No. I haven’t read any James Bond novels before. My Mum wouldn’t let me read it as an older child, thinking the novels were more sexual than the films (going by this book, they aren’t, nor are they any more sexual than the Doctor Who novels I was reading at the time) and then by the time I was old enough to read what I wanted, I had lost interest in James Bond. But it was part of the omnibus of spy novels I started reading, so I just carried on. Literary Bond turns out to be a more interesting and likeable character than film Bond, capable of compassion and self-criticism. I’m not sure if I’ll actively seek out any of the other novels, but if I come across one in a charity shop, I’d be tempted to buy it, or to borrow from the library.

Speaking of spy novels, I heard that John le Carré had died. I have a weird relationship with his books. His non-George Smiley ones don’t interest me much. I’ve read seven and only two were any good (A Small Town in Germany, and A Perfect Spy, which is a bildungsroman disguised as a spy novel ). However, I’m a big fan of the nine George Smiley novels, even the ones were Smiley barely appears, or the ones that objectively probably aren’t that great (The Looking-Glass War would arguably be better-received if it wasn’t a Smiley novel, as it’s stylistically very different to the others, basically a very dry and ironic satire, almost imperceptibly so). The Smiley books, especially those of le Carré’s mature period, from Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy onwards inhabit their own world, every bit as complex and well-crafted as any fantasy or science fiction universe, but notionally more “real,” a world with its own nomenclature and rules of engagement. It’s one of my autistic interests and I love to lose myself inside it. The early Smiley books don’t have that level of detail, but are still interesting and engaging.

I think part of the reason I prefer the Smiley books to the non-Smiley ones (there is technically some overlap of characters and terms, if you want to be really fannish about this, but I’m defining Smiley novels as the ones where Smiley appears, however briefly) is that le Carré wasn’t a great writer of thrillers. I know that sounds like heresy, considering his reputation as the great thriller author, but his best novels (Tinker, Tailor…, Smiley’s People and the non-Smiley A Small Town in Germany) are crafted as mysteries rather than thrillers, just set in the world of spies; A Murder of Quality, despite having a retired Smiley as the protagonist isn’t even set in the spy world, but deals with a murder in a public school that Smiley gets roped into investigating. The non-Smiley books are mostly thrillers and I find them too slow, and they suffer from uninteresting and often irritating protagonists. Le Carré seemed to have a fondness for somewhat passive heroes coming from lower depths of the English ruling class. His treatment of women wasn’t great either, and I could write a whole essay about his presentation of Jews. Le Carré was at his best when building a world of spies, then creating an unravelling mystery so that the reader can slowly explore it.

George Smiley himself was a creation of genius. In a genre dominated by oversexed, amoral superheroes, the diminutive, fat, bespectacled, much-cuckolded spy, bothered by his conscience and constantly dreaming of returning to academia is pretty much unique, and more suited the unravelling of mysteries than action sequences, although his spycraft is immaculate.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy is probably his best novel. It’s a novel of character, a story of Britain’s post-war decline and a satire on the way that greed and ambition can blind people and organisations as to what is happening before their eyes as much as it’s the story of Smiley’s search for the traitor at the heart of British intelligence.

Everyone In The Country Is Maladjusted

A few years from now, the President of the USA will be an android and his entire government a fraud. Everyone in the country is maladjusted. Doesn’t seem possible, does it?

This is the beginning of the back cover blurb from my Chanukah present tonight, The Simulacra by Philip K. Dick. The novel was published in 1964, although the blurb dates from 2004. Even so, 2004 seems an age ago, when there was still a clear distinction between satire and reality.

***

Today was tiring. It started last night. I went to bed really early (10.30pm) because I was exhausted. About 4.45am, I was woken up by my Mum. Dad was taking her to the hospital because of what she thought was an allergic reaction, but which turned out to be cellulitis (bacterial infection). She has been struggling with this for a while now, mistakenly thinking it was an allergic reaction to her cancer-treatment dressing, so it’s good that it’s finally diagnosed and treated (anti-biotics). Still, she spent half the night in the hospital; I think Dad spent it in the car, because COVID means only patients are allowed into the hospital.

***

At work, J asked me to go to the bank and do some shopping. The bank and shop were local, but I managed to get lost several times and the whole trip took an hour and a quarter. This was in a very well-known part of Central London, albeit one I haven’t been to so much in recent years. More embarrassingly, it was where I was for a while with PIMOJ yesterday. I don’t think a poor sense of direction is usually considered a symptom of autism, but it would make sense to me if it is – I wonder if the sense of direction is in a similar part of the brain to the part with poor spatial awareness in autism. They seem similar to me, although I’m obviously not a neuroscientist. J didn’t seem to mind that I took so long, but I felt embarrassed. I had also pulled a muscle in my leg walking with PIMOJ yesterday, and that hurt more as a result of all the walking.

The afternoon went quickly. Without giving too much away about where I work, there was, before COVID, a regular minyan (prayer service) on the premises. They restarted it yesterday or today and I went along today, which was good, the first time I’d been to a weekday prayer service since I’m not sure when, probably February or even January. It was masked and socially distanced, but we sang Ma’oz Tzur when we lit Chanukah candles, which we should not have done. I don’t think we’ll be allowed to have a minyan on Thursday as London will have gone back into Tier 3 (which is basically strict lockdown again) by then. I don’t know whether my home shul will be allowed to run Shabbat services this week, but I suspect not. It feels like we are in a third lockdown.

Tonight’s donut: I haven’t decided yet, let alone eaten, but I’m leaning towards jam again. Sometimes you can’t improve on the classic version.

Date and Zoom Chanukah

I know I get fixated on my sleep here, I guess because it’s the most tangible area where I still struggle, so I’ll just note that, thanks to insomnia and early waking, I only got about five hours of sleep last night before my date with PIMOJ today, admittedly after a day in which I had slept far too much.

The date itself went very well. We spent several hours walking around Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. It was raining much of the time, but we had a good time, even though a miscommunication meant PIMOJ was expecting me to bring food for both of us, whereas I thought we were each bringing just for ourselves, so we both ended up sharing one bagel and some vegetables. PIMOJ put her arm through mine a lot, which was nice, but felt a bit weird. I have never really done that with anyone before. Physical contact still prompts elements of guilt for me, for both religious and COVID reasons, and even without that, new physical sensations can be difficult on the autism spectrum.

We exchanged Chanukah gifts. I was glad I got PIMOJ a book I think she will really like, as she gave me chocolates and two books, which took me aback a bit. PIMOJ said she wants to see me in person more often, and that, and one or two other things, made me think that she’s serious about me. She said communicating via text is not always easy for us, especially as English isn’t her first language, which is true. Also, I find that I can’t always tell when she’s joking. I know that’s a typical autistic trait, but 90% of the time it’s not a problem for me, but with PIMOJ it frequently is an issue (hence the food mix-up). So trying to meet more regularly, despite COVID and the weather, seems to be the way forward. She also said that she doesn’t want me to compromise on anything, so I’m not sure where I got that idea from.

I came home exhausted, unsurprisingly. I was surprised to find donuts and chocolates left for me by my shul (synagogue) and a refund of money from a communal institution who I had paid twice, the result of a direct debit or standing order that was paid despite not showing up on my list of regular payments in my bank account. The latter will require further investigation to find out why it’s not showing.

My parents and I did a Zoom Chanukah candle lighting with my uncle and aunt in Israel, along with cousins 3 and 5. Singing in tune over a Zoom connection was not easy. We sat around talking afterwards. I didn’t really say anything. I don’t say much when I’m with my extended family in person and I never feel comfortable and able to talk at these kinds of Zoom meetings, and I was already quite drained, so I was a bit relieved when the battery on Mum’s laptop ran out after nearly an hour and brought the meeting to an end.

Tonight’s donut ended up being a chocolate-filled one again, although I honestly don’t only eat chocolate donuts! They didn’t have the iced type I wanted. The chocolate-filled one was nice though.

Grief and Nostalgia

I felt very drained on Friday and struggled to get up and get going in time for Shabbat (the Sabbath). Shabbat started earlier on Friday than any other day in the year, at 3.36pm. I went to shul (synagogue), but felt uncomfortable there. I’m not sure why; there were elements of mask discomfort and social anxiety. I probably have not adapted to the social distancing and other COVID safety measures, and Kabbalat Shabbat without communal singing is a rather sad and subdued affair.

In the evening, I spent quite a while on Torah study, reading the essay on Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs) and love in Judaism by Rabbi Lord Sacks z”tl in his Pesach Machzor (Passover Prayerbook) as well as the first chapter of Shir HaShirim with Rabbi Sacks’ commentary in the same book. I found it all rather moving and it felt a bit like one of the religious experiences I often want to have, but never manage. I did also feel grief about Rabbi Sacks’ recent death. I’d often wondered if I would get a chance to have a conversation with him one day and it suddenly hit me that that would never happen now and I felt a stab of grief.

I did some recreational reading too. When I got back from shul, feeling very drained and slightly depressed, I spent half an hour reading my recent purchase, Doctor Who Magazine #242 from August 1996 (the issue before I started reading regularly). I’m rather more excited about it than I am about the current issue of DWM, which seems less analytical and also less joyful. Or maybe modern DWM readers and writers just get excited about different things to me. At £3 including postage, my old DWM was cheaper too. It’s weird to think that this is a new thing that dates from my adolescence. I have a horrible feeling I’m going to start hunting eBay for DWM back issues, at least for the rest of Gary Gillatt’s time as editor. Nostalgia is as good as it used to be.

Friday’s Chanukah donut: chocolate-filled.

***

Today was a normal Saturday. I slept too much again. I actually woke up about 7.15am, but it was so dark outside that I couldn’t face getting up and ended up falling asleep again. I wish I could find a way out of this sleep disturbance. When I was awake, I davened (prayerd) and we had the usual Shabbat meals. The evening was mostly filled with Torah study.

I haven’t eaten today’s donut yet, but it will be chocolate-iced. I also had a kosher mince pie, which is as close as I get to celebrating Christmas.

Finding My Tribe, and People With Logical, But Annoyingly-Argued Views

I woke up in the middle of the night last night and struggled to get back to sleep. I think I’m still feeling overwhelmed, with some anxiety and depression that may be heading back to clinical levels with the winter and the persistence of COVID. I’m not settled into my new job, and I’m worried about my relationship with PIMOJ, and one or two other things, and there’s still COVID… Still, my devar Torah (Torah thought) this week was on God not letting us retire from life and have it easy when there is work to be done here in this world.

I didn’t do much at work. J took me with him when he went out in the morning; I’d love to say where we went, as it would strike you as unusual and perhaps a little Gothic, but I probably shouldn’t, for reasons of anonymity. The afternoon was largely spent trying to work out why Dropbox wasn’t working for either of us (on Monday it was just me who had a problem). I felt vaguely guilty about this, as my Dropbox stopped working first, despite knowing that I have no rational reason to feel guilty. Then J said we should leave early, I guess because there was little that we could do without Dropbox. I did at least speak to the helpdesk on the phone. Like many autistic and/or social anxious people, I hate the telephone and find it harder than any other form of interaction, so it was good that I made myself do that even if I didn’t get an answer.

Other than that, today I managed about half an hour of Torah study, which was a little disappointing, and finished off my devar Torah for the week. I find that during Chanukah (which started tonight) a large part of my evening is preparing and spent lighting “candles” (I use oil lights, although Mum uses candles, but we still call them candles for some reason), sitting around the candles with family and eating dinner near them (which is not obligatory, but is nice), so it eats into Torah time and relaxation time. Despite that, it is an oasis of calm when winter is beginning to bite. Tonight’s donut: jam.

***

It occurred to me that I’ve spent years trying to find my “tribe,” the way you see people write about finding their “tribe” (usually counter-cultural in some way, from LGBTQ to fandom to the Liberal Democrats). I’ve never found it. Over time I’ve tried and hoped that Orthodox Jews, Doctor Who fans, Oxonians, autistics or depressives might be my tribe, but none of them really are. I realised today I was hoping to find a group that was uniformly thoughtful, introspective and intelligent; probably also cultured and witty. None of them are that, obviously. It’s too much to ask one group to be all that. Maybe the point is to stop trying to find people who are like me, and to concentrate on finding people who can accept me. I’m not sure where to start, though.

***

My shul (synagogue) fees are going up. I’ve been paying full price even though I’ve been out of work for most of the last two years, and have only been working two days a week when I have been working. I’m not quite sure why I didn’t ask to have my fees reduced; maybe shame at admitting my employment situation. Now the fees have gone up and I feel I need to ask for a reduction, but I worry they’ll say, “But if you paid when you were unemployed, why can’t you pay when you’re working?” Also, the contact details if you want to talk about a reduction is phone number only. As I said, like many autistic people, I hate the telephone and find it harder than any other form of interaction and it’s making an awkward and difficult interaction much worse.

***

There ought to be a term for an argument that you feel is logically sound, but which you reject because of the pompous, sanctimonious way it’s put forward. I experienced this twice today. While on our work excursion, J had the radio on in the car and A Well-Known Talk Radio Host was talking ranting about Brexit. I am agnostic, if not downright confused, about Brexit these days. I think the economic and geopolitical arguments favour Remain, while the domestic political arguments (sovereignty) favours Leave, as well as the democratic need to see the referendum result through. So I am at least open to the idea that Brexit will cause major economic problems in three weeks’ time. But the Host seemed so self-righteous and gloating in his delivery that he really annoyed me, especially as I felt he was putting up so many straw men, he could open a scarecrow factory.

Then in the afternoon, I confess I was bored enough to look at Twitter on the way home, and George Takei (Mr Sulu from the original Star Trek) had tweeted that vaccine refusal is “not living up to the ideals of Star Trek.” I am completely in favour of vaccination. However, it seems a little ridiculous for an actor to use a TV show he used to be in as an argument in favour of what is an entirely medical decision. I’ve seen similar things in online Doctor Who fandom too, people with the wrong opinions being told that they are “against the ideals of the Doctor” or whatever. I’ve seen some debate online as to whether these people really derive their personal values and ethics from a TV show or if the programme just resonates with already-held beliefs. I hope it’s the latter, but I worry.

Another Overwhelmed Day

I slept too long again, with disturbing dreams, which I will try to keep short, as I know some people are bored by dreams. (Feel free to skip the rest of this paragraph if that’s you.) One, a rather disgusting one about maggots in a hotel bedroom, was apparently based on the James Bond novel I’m reading. The other was more interesting, about being in Theresa May’s government (!!!) in some way, but not being aware of my job title or role, or if I was a political appointee or in the Civil Service, or what level of seniority I had; I was rebuked for sitting towards the back of a group photograph when I was important enough to be in the front row. On a basic level, it reflects the fact that I’ve realised that I don’t actually know my proper job title in my new job, if I have one, as I didn’t have to apply for it in the usual way, I was just offered it informally by J. On a deeper level, I think it reflects fears that I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, or, more pertinently, what I should be doing with it (in terms of my divinely-mandated mission that I believe everyone has), and feeling that everyone around me is doing much better (in the dream, one old school friend was the Head of MI5).

***

I still felt overwhelmed today, and also burnt out and depressed, even a bit tearful, although I didn’t actually cry. Things are better with PIMOJ, but historically arguments and misunderstandings have generally happened for me shortly before breakups and it’s hard to escape feeling that that will happen again, even if I know rationally that all couples argue from time to time and it doesn’t necessarily presage problems. I’m not good at handling arguments in any context, for reasons going back to my childhood. I want to run off and avoid them, which I guess is what I have done here.

I also feel bad about missing volunteering today, especially as I was told that I informed them rather late last night (it was a late decision on my part). Plus there’s the usual winter overwhelm feelings from lack of sunlight and poor weather. I feel the need for time out for myself, and I’m not sure how to get it.

I felt like the unlovable autistic/depressive freak again today, which I hadn’t done for a while. I worry that PIMOJ and my personalities are too different for this to work, especially with my autistic issues, issues that make us very different, but also make it hard for me to communicate those differences. I know my autistic rigid thinking can be off-putting to people, particularly when combined with social anxiety and depressive negativity and catastrophising. I don’t know how to change this, or even if it’s possible.

I spoke about much of this in therapy. My therapist wondered if I was rushing too far ahead; she said I can just spend time with PIMOJ and learn about her without having to decide if she is compatible with me. This admittedly has not been helped by COVID, which has meant our relationship has largely been conducted over text and video rather than in person, and when in person has largely been in one or two environments (park and coffee shop). She (therapist) also said I should ask PIMOJ what she wants me to compromise on. She also reminded me to be compassionate to myself. I think I’m getting better at that (compassion), but it’s still hard to feel that I deserve it. The therapist also warned me about catastrophising and turning my fears into reality by assuming they are real.

I did feel a lot better after therapy, and also a text from PIMOJ saying that she can’t wait to see me in person at the weekend (we decided to change from a video meeting on Saturday evening to an in-person meeting on Sunday morning).

I didn’t really do much other than write my devar Torah and go to therapy on Zoom because I was feeling so burnt out and depressed.

***

In the evening, I watched Blade Runner 2049. I hadn’t seen it since I saw it in the cinema in 2017. It was good, but not as good as the original, although it’s a very different sort of film. I don’t have time to go into details on that, though.

What I did realise is that I struggle to concentrate for two and a half hours, both in terms of following the plot and physically sitting still. Maybe I am still somewhat depressed. At least I know why I keep watching original run Doctor Who stories when depressed: it comes in twenty-five minute chunks and I know all the stories backwards so it doesn’t matter if I tune out for a bit.

***

My rabbi mentor seems to think that writing about abuse in my novel is OK. He said that some people in the frum (religious) community will shy away from it, but many would appreciate the honesty. I hope so.

***

Chanukah starts tomorrow evening. On TV and in films, Chanukah always exactly corresponds with Christmas, but in reality it’s usually a bit earlier. Also, on TV and films Chanukah is the only Jewish festival, whereas in reality it’s one of about seven, and probably the least important, religiously.

In recent years Chanukah has been a time of stability and calm for me when all the other Jewish festivals were made difficult by mental illness (religious OCD, depression, social anxiety, excessive guilt etc.), but somehow it feels like it won’t be calm this year, with COVID in particular, as well as fears that I will not be well enough to get to work or volunteering and worries about dating.

***

J has said that if I need to take off time for health reasons, I can. I’m not quite sure why he said it, but it was after I took the psychiatrist’s call on my lunch break at work, saying it was “medical” so I guess he realises I have some kind of health issue. Even so, I don’t want to take off time if I can help it. The money is good, but I need the structure and self-esteem more than money, and I hate feeling that I’ve let people down, as with the volunteering today.

***

I haven’t been reading much recently. Actually that’s not true; I just finished Iyov (the biblical book of Job, in Hebrew) alongside Job’s Illness: Loss, Grief and Integration: A Psychological Interpretation and I’ve made my way through two-and-a-bit novels in the spy stories omnibus I’ve borrowed from my Dad. I guess I’m using a lot of my reading time for religious reading, particularly on the journey to work and on Shabbat (the Sabbath). I usually read at lunchtime, but at work I only have forty-five minutes for lunch, of which about fifteen minutes goes on Minchah (Afternoon Prayers). Even with the remaining half-hour, I feel self-conscious reading at my desk while J works through his lunch. I would normally read on the way home from work, but J has been giving me a lift in his car, so I can’t read then. I think I need to make more time for recreational reading, as it is important to me.

“Hate is always foolish, but love is always wise”

Things are better with PIMOJ. We texted a bit. I said I was worried that she was disgusted with me because of my book. She said I shouldn’t assume what she thinks, which is true, but I still don’t know whether or not she is disgusted with me. I think we both want to make this work, but are too scared of what the other thinks. We’re going to Skype at the weekend and we agreed not to “mind read” each other. Although I nearly set everything off again when I misunderstood a joke she made and took it literally….

I just feel a mess of depression and anxiety at the moment, and also slightly paranoid, reading texts and emails (not just PIMOJ’s) as critical and attacking even when the probably aren’t. I think I can cope with PIMOJ ending things better than I can cope with people being angry with me.

***

I was thinking of going to go to a CILIP (library professional organisation) talk on Zoom today, something I don’t normally do. I’m bad at CPD (continual professional development) and I vaguely wanted to change that. But I can’t face it today. I’m going to skip volunteering tomorrow too. I feel bad about it, but I think if I get up early to volunteer I will struggle to be fully present for therapy in the afternoon and will struggle to get to work on Thursday, and therapy and work are more important.

***

I didn’t do much else today. I felt pretty bad. I tried to write my devar Torah for the week. I wrote a detailed plan, which hopefully I can expand fairly easily. I didn’t cook, even though I normally do on Tuesdays, and the only way I could manage to study some Torah was to listen to a couple of five minute mini-shiurim (religious classes). I went for a walk and did a few chores.

The other big thing that happened was that I was checking my bank statements when I found a couple of suspicious payments out. They might be innocent mistakes or things I had forgotten, but I had to spend time trying to check them and writing to people to work out what they are. I still haven’t worked out what they actually are. I’m waiting for replies to some emails I sent about them. There’s also a weird payment in to my account, which I’m completely uncertain about.

I did have another go at trying to change the price of my non-fiction self-published Doctor Who book. It still says I have to change something on the design page, but won’t tell me what, despite my having actually completed and published the book. I think it wants me to create a new front cover, but I’m not sure. It doesn’t seem to have the “wizard” for making a cover anymore, which is problematic for me. It seems pretty stupid that I can’t just change the price, especially as I didn’t put it on the cover. I did at least remove the embarrassing typo from the back cover blurb.

***

Yesterday and today I re-watched Peter Capaldi’s sort-of swansong in Doctor Who, World Enough and Time and The Doctor Falls. I didn’t watch the epilogue, Twice Upon A Time, except for the regeneration scene, because in my head Twice Upon A Time didn’t happen. I don’t know why I wanted to watch something so downbeat when I was feeling bad, although it is a very good story. I guess it has a redemptive edge. Doctor Who has an advantage of many other series in that it can repeatedly kill off the main character, and have it be a “real” permanent death, but also keep the programme running. Regeneration stories have the potential to be the best stories (two make it into my all-time favourite stories list, and this one isn’t far off). I suppose it’s cathartic watching a heroic death.

I think lately Capaldi has overtaken Matt Smith as my favourite new series Doctor, despite being inconsistently written for his first year. He’s kind of the autistic Doctor, with his index cards to remind him of social niceties, and his habit of being very blunt and to the point. Also that he thinks he’s very rational when he’s actually very emotional (or is that just me?).

What Happened?

I blamed myself for a couple of things that went wrong at work, at least one of which was not my fault. I made some mistakes typing some invoices from a template, which was a bit of carelessness on my part. Also, Dropbox was not working on my computer properly, which meant that J couldn’t access the files I was working on and vice versa. J suggested deleting Dropbox and reinstalling. I deleted, but was having trouble reinstalling when J said we should go home and leave it for Thursday. I feel like we are leaving earlier and earlier (probably because the traffic is getting worse and worse), but I guess J is the boss and he gets to decide when we go. I am concerned about sorting the Dropbox problem, but ultimately it’s not my responsibility (yes, I do take responsibility for things that are outside my control).

I texted PIMOJ in the morning to see how she was as we always do. I didn’t hear from her all day until I got a thumbs up emoji from her just before I left work this afternoon. We exchanged one or two texts, but nothing like what we usually do. We “went” (on Zoom) to a shiur (religious class) just now and I texted her to see what she thought of it, but she hasn’t replied yet, or even looked at the text. I’m not sure what is going on there any more and I feel pessimistic about it. Maybe she’s just giving me space, as yesterday I think I came across as passive-aggressive and when she asked if I was OK I said I was in my “cave.” Maybe she thinks I’m still there, my texts notwithstanding.

I guess I feel a bit hurt by everything that happened in the last few days. I do wonder what she thinks of me, whether she thinks I’m some immoral or irreligious person. I think our religious outlooks are different. She sees God and signs of His goodness everywhere, particularly in nature and in positive things in her life; I find it harder to find God in a world of suffering and a life that has really not gone to plan, and inevitably that was reflected in my writing. That’s what the situation with my book boils down to, beyond the sex, that she sees God everywhere in the world, and I struggle to find Him anywhere.

I feel a bit responsible, but also like I got hit by something out of nowhere. I didn’t want to let PIMOJ read my novel at this stage (albeit as much because I didn’t think it was polished enough than because of the content), but I felt pushed into it, and now who knows what is happening between us. This may be me trying to take responsibility for things that are not in my control again.

***

Perhaps because I was feeling depressed, I bid on eBay yesterday for a back-issue of Doctor Who Magazine (#242), the issue before I started reading the magazine regularly. I’ve mentioned recently my nostalgia for the DWM of that period (my teenage years) and wanted to read a couple of articles and interviews in that issue that I missed out on at the time. I hope I don’t start regularly buying back issues though, as it could be expensive. I only bid for this because, with just a couple of hours left, there were no bidders and a starting bid of £1. In the end I got it for £1, plus £2 postage, which is cheaper than the cover price of the current issue. I’m not sure if that’s the first time I’ve won a bid on eBay.

Also, this Doctor Who Magazine Special Edition is in stock again, surprisingly, and I put in an order for it, so it looks like I’m having a good time on the DWM front if nothing else!

“Marital Relations” and Violence

I struggled to get up again this morning, even more than usual. I slept for about eight hours, after going to bed late, but then spent two hours in the zone between sleep and full wakefulness, too burnt out to get up. I guess, given the emotions of yesterday evening, it’s not surprising that I felt emotionally exhausted. It was well into the afternoon before I really felt able to get going.

I did various things today: shopping, cleaning the oven for Mum, various odd chores, and a 5K run, as well as half an hour of Torah study. Unfortunately, because I was late getting up, the run was after dark, which is always harder. It still felt like a slightly wasted day, with a late start and a big pause in the early evening when I got back from my run to exhausted to do anything for a while. I couldn’t really face doing any more than that, any more Torah study or any more stuff in general. I was too tired by the end, and rather depressed.

Possibly I’m just feeling pessimistic today.

***

PIMOJ’s reaction to my novel makes me worry a bit how other frum (religious) people will respond. There’s actually very little sex in it, but there is some: a rape (which is over in a couple of lines; the book focuses more on the emotional after-effects for the female character), and also some frank discussion of sex (although no actual sex scene) where one character is trying to emotionally manipulate his wife into agreeing to have anal sex. I would say this is not what people would expect from a frum novel, except that there is very little frum serious literature to compare it with.

I didn’t want it to be “just” a frum book, but to be relevant to a wider audience. I fear I have fallen between two stools, with a ridiculous unwillingness to show actual sex for a mainstream audience, but much too much for a frum audience. The frum world won’t talk about sex except with strained euphemisms (hence Haredi comedian Ashley Blaker did a joke about the Jewish punk rock group, The “Marital Relations” Pistols). But I felt I couldn’t duck these issues, having seen (from neshamas.com, the Intimate Judaism podcast and elsewhere) that the nature of consent within marriage and the existence of domestic abuse are real issues in the frum community that we are rather in denial about and I thought it would unrealistic and untrue to duck those issues.

As an example that I should have known — in a sense, did know — what I was getting myself into, just before I started work on my novel, The Jewish News, a free Jewish newspaper, not particularly frum, ran this article about abuse (trigger warning for all kinds of abuse). The next week, they got a lot of complaints, saying it was too graphic for a family newspaper. (I’m not sure how many young children read newspapers these days.) Certainly no frum newspaper (Hamodia, Mishpacha, etc.) would ever run an article like that. But where can articles like this be run — and be seen by those who need to see them — if not in a newspaper? So I knew that if I got my novel published, I was likely to have negative feedback, but that just convinced me of the need to write it. But maybe I was wrong and this will do harm rather than good. I don’t want people to see it as saying that Jews are particularly bad people or that Judaism is a bad religion. I wanted my characters to see Judaism as life-supporting even when they were at their worst.

***

On the plus side, PIMOJ and I are connecting again. Last night we “spoke” (in text — I wasn’t up to speak on Skype) about what we admire in each other and why we want to continue the relationship (although I’ve noticed PIMOJ doesn’t describe it as a relationship, just that we’re “getting to know” each other). We’ve been texting again today. I do want to talk about what happened in therapy and with my rabbi mentor, though, especially as I feel a bit self-conscious with PIMOJ now.

I worry that we are too different in terms of personality, and also that she doesn’t know many frum men; if she did, maybe she wouldn’t find me so interesting and unique. Sometimes, even before this, I feel guilty for dating her, when I should tell her to try dating other guys first.

I guess PIMOJ doesn’t fit my mental image of the type of person I would expect to marry. To be honest, the person who most fitted that image was my first girlfriend and that didn’t work out at all, because she was already becoming a different person. There was someone at university who I thought fitted the bill too, but she wasn’t interested in me. I’m not sure what this proves, except to note that a lot of people (most people?) end up with someone different from what they think their ideal mate would be.

***

Predictive text today wanted me to say “I’ll have to wait until I get… arrested.” Now I’m wondering what my phone thinks of me and why.

Argument

Shabbat (the Sabbath) was fine, same as usual. I went to shul (synagogue) for the first time since the second lockdown ended. It still feels very subdued there, and we were reminded not to sing. We did go outdoors for a few minutes so we could sing Lecha Dodi, which was good, but colder than when we were doing it a month ago.

I had a dream last night that I won’t describe, as I don’t remember enough of it, and what I do remember I don’t want to share, but it made me worry that my unconscious was thinking of my time being single (which is most of my life), but primarily the loneliness of being single, and the stress and guilt of not coping well with it and having dysfunctional coping strategies at the time.

I argued a bit with PIMOJ tonight after Shabbat, via text. We clashed over my novel. I think there were some communication difficulties too, some language difficulties and some outlook difficulties. I felt my novel was about as religious as a mainstream novel can be and am already worried it will be accused of being too pious or frum (religious) and too simplistic in showing that hurt people can find solace in God. PIMOJ feels that it needs to show more of God’s goodness. I can’t explain her position in detail, because I don’t understand it all (like I said, there are some communication difficulties here, perhaps some language issues) and I’m not going to re-read her email and texts at the moment. I felt the novel was reflecting my experience and the experience of people I’ve encountered online and in person, and it would be wrong to change that or to provide easy answers to difficult questions. I think it’s a book about resilience rather than simple piety.

We calmed down in the end, shelved the novel question for now and said that we both value our connection to each other more than what we feel about the novel. I guess I find arguments scary because in both my previous relationships, the arguments came as we were moving towards breaking up and were a sign of deep-seated issues, so it’s hard not to see it as an ominous sign, even though I know healthy couples can argue a lot (too many examples to mention from my family!).

I had planned to re-watch Blade Runner 2049 this evening, but after the argument, I felt it was too long and downbeat. I started to watch the Doctor Who story City of Death, which is the Doctor Who fan equivalent of eating a tub of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream when depressed. It was written, pseudonymously, by Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy author Douglas Adams, and has a reputation for being the funniest and most elegantly-structured of his three sets of scripts for Doctor Who. I’m not sure if I will watch all of it tonight. I’m currently halfway through, with another fifty minutes to go. It’s getting late, but I have a bit of a headache, which I think will stop me sleeping, and I don’t feel sleepy. I probably still feel energised from arguing, as well as from sleeping too much over Shabbat.

EDIT: I complained recently about someone reblogging a post of mine without asking permission or even telling me. I just had a look in my spam folder and found a comment in there saying that they were reblogging it, so apologies there, although I still don’t know why they particularly wanted to reblog that post.

Pre-Shabbat Fragment

PIMOJ texted me before I went to bed last night and we texted back and forth for a few minutes. We texted again today. I feel better than I did after our call yesterday. Certainly I’m not worried that she’s about to break up with me.

I feel burnt out and overwhelmed again today. I didn’t really mention this to the psychiatrist yesterday, except in a general sense about lacking energy, because I assumed that, inasmuch as it has any medical origin, it’s because I’m autistic and perhaps still mildly depressed sometimes and therefore easily tired, especially by emotional stress and social contact. However, that does not make it easier to deal with. Maybe I should have mentioned it, although I’m not sure what I would have said.

The feelings of being overwhelmed are probably further rooted in the stresses and changes of a new job, as well as the COVID situation, rather than anything I can change right now. I am trying to focus on the present, and the good, and PIMOJ is good at bringing my attention back to these things.

My main concern today is trying to support someone who I fear needs different support to anything I can offer. I want to help, but I’m worried I’m just going to make a bad situation worse if I try. I guess knowing my limitations is also good, but it doesn’t feel good.

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the suffering in the world, and my inability to really change anything for the better, my inability often to even know what “better” would look like for many other people. I try to hold onto the belief that helping anyone is worthwhile, even if you can’t help everyone, and that sometimes just listening to people is all you can do to help them. Still, the urge to be Superman and fix the world for everyone is strong, despite my increasing convictions that dramatic plans to fix the world are often a way of making it a lot worse for lots of people.

This afternoon I have booked to go to shul (synagogue) for Shabbat (Sabbath) services for the first time since the second lockdown started. I’m vaguely nervous after having been away for a month again, although I’m more used to wearing a mask for long periods now. Friday nights in the winter can be hard; walking to and from shul in the dark can be cold and uncomfortable and make it hard to look forward to services, even without the usual Friday end of week exhaustion, let alone the feelings of being overwhelmed that I currently have..

The Day Where I Counted My Blessings

I’m not sure what to think about today. Work was OK. I was doing a lot of repetitive form-filling. It wasn’t terribly interesting, but it’s the type of thing where I can just focus on it and get into some kind of rhythm, I guess the type of day where I can make the autism work for me a bit. I just hope I didn’t make any mistakes.

I had a late lunch and went into an empty office to have a video call with my psychiatrist. We’re going to try to adjust my medication a little to see if we can reduce my oversleeping and lack of energy. I’m wary of altering medication in case I get worse, but I think it’s got to the stage where I have to take the chance. However, it was not a good connection and I didn’t want to get the psychiatrist to keep repeating things, so I’m going to have to wait for the psychiatrist’s letter to know exactly what to do.

I briefly joined a Skype call with my parents, aunt and uncle and had a longer call with PIMOJ. The latter was… interesting. She had been asking me for a while if she could read my novel. I wasn’t terribly happy with this idea, but eventually I gave in and I wonder if I made a huge mistake. PIMOJ is incredibly upbeat and also deeply spiritual, pure and connected to God, whereas my novel… well, it deals with issues like depression, questions of faith, unrequited and slightly obsessive love, self-harm, suicidality, late diagnosed autism and emotional, physical and sexual abuse. It isn’t terribly happy, although I gave it an ending that is at least open to hope. PIMOJ works in mental health, so she’s not naive, but I think she was a bit shocked by it, by the thought that someone would want to write this down and that other people would want to read it. She thought the ending was hopeful, but too open-ended for her liking.

Even though PIMOJ knows a bit about me and my issues, I think she possibly didn’t realise until she read it just how low I’ve been in the past, and maybe isn’t convinced that I’m not still there. She didn’t say it was a bad book. She kept saying it was “interesting” and that she experienced a lot of compassion for the main characters, which I guess means the writing was emotional. I’m not sure I really made it clear that my writing came from a place of deep religious engagement.

I’m a bit worried she’s going to break up with me now, but I guess it was better that it came out sooner rather than later. She was texting me attentively today, and I know she didn’t read the entire novel this evening, so I guess that means she still feels a connection.

Perhaps it was just as well that today I had a reminder that things are pretty good for me at the moment. My life is not perfect, but I have supportive family, no immediate financial worries despite only working two days a week and outlets for at least some of my emotional needs. I’m not in an unhappy relationship or struggling to support my family financially or emotionally or dealing with abuse. I guess I need to be reminded to count my blessings sometimes.

The Day that Got Away

It feels like today was a day that got away from me.

First, I missed volunteering. I overslept by about forty-five minutes (having dreamt that I couldn’t go to volunteer because I had a temperature and suspected COVID). I hurried to get ready and could still have got there at a reasonable time, but then I waited twenty-five minutes for a bus which did not arrive (it was supposed to be every eight minutes). At this point I went home to see if one of my parents could give me a lift, but I could see there was heavy rush hour traffic everywhere and it would take at least forty-five minutes to get to volunteering even if my parents were ready to take me straightaway. At that point I felt it wasn’t worth going, as I wouldn’t really be there very long, so I texted to apologise.

I feel bad for letting them down, especially as I texted about 8.15am to say I was late, but on my way, and then texted again nearly an hour later say I couldn’t make it at all. I do wonder if working and volunteering for three consecutive days is too much for me and that if I have to work on Tuesdays in the future, I should not volunteer on Wednesdays because I need it as a recuperation day after work.

In the afternoon I did some shopping, mostly for essentials, but I bought a book as a Chanukah present for PIMOJ. I felt a bit bad that I spent more than I’ve spent on my parents’ presents (and my sister hasn’t even told me what she wants yet). It was not easy to work out what to buy, as I feel I’m still learning who PIMOJ is, so I ended up buying a book I’m 99% sure she’ll like, but which was rather expensive. I thought that getting something she wanted was more important than staying within budget, but now my inner critical voice is saying that I need to spend more on my parents. At least I’m earning money again at the moment.

***

And then, in late afternoon, I read something online and I just exploded. The article wasn’t particularly surprising to someone who reads the Jewish press and Jewish websites and is aware of the way the world is going, but it set something off in me. When I wrote my political post a few weeks ago, Ashley said she was surprised it wasn’t a rant from the way I had spoken about it. Well, brace yourselves, because this is a rant. Feelings I’ve been suppressing for a long time can’t be suppressed any more…

Rabbi Lord Sacks used to say that antisemitism is a virus that mutates; whenever a strain becomes discredited in society (equivalent to immunisation), it mutates into a new form that is still considered acceptable. So when religion lost influence to science in the Enlightenment, the religious antisemitism of the Middle Ages was replaced with the pseudoscience of racial antisemitism. Now racial pseudoscience is discredited, antisemitism has become based on the idea of Jews collectively being major human rights abusers.

I would add: when antisemitism mutates, it mutates in such a way that the Jews are seen as the embodiment of whatever that society hates the most. So in an era of human rights sensitivity, Jews will be seen as the worst possible human rights abusers. Hence the constant analogies between Jews/Israelis and Nazis.

Antisemitism is not just a prejudice, it’s an entire worldview that sees the Jews as responsible for the woes of the world. Hence the fact that it is often propagated as conspiracy theories about covert Jewish power. It’s as hard to argue rationally against this approach as it was to convince Torquemada that Jews weren’t really Christ-killers or to convince Hitler that Jews weren’t really racially impure. How do you “rationally” prove that you’re not a baby-killer? Even to entertain the question opens the possibility that you are, in fact, a baby-killer, just not guilty of killing this particular baby.

The scariest trend I’ve noticed in antisemitism recently, which I haven’t seen anyone else write about yet, is the idea that Jews are not “real” Jews, but white people pretending to be Jews. Who the “real” Jews are isn’t always spelt out, but it’s usually implied to be black people or Muslims. Louis Farrakhan (Nation of Islam) has been peddling this for years, but it’s suddenly gone mainstream (e.g. here for the assertion that Black people are the “TRUE Children of Israel” and that therefore Jews are “LYING antisemites”). Although perhaps directly rooted in Arthur Koestler’s disproven theory that most Jews are actually Khazars (a people from Medieval Crimea), this is basically an outgrowth of supersessionism or replacement theology, the idea in classical Christianity and Islam that the Jews were once chosen, but have now been replaced, with the church/the ummah having taken over. However, the modern version gives this a twist for the identity politics era: the Jews were once persecuted (chosen, effectively, in a system that correlates virtue to suffering), but have now been replaced. Because, again, if human rights abusers are the worst possible people, and if white people are the worst possible human rights abusers, then Jews will be white, or even the whites of the whites (the people who exploit the exploiters), regardless of how they were seen in the past; they can’t be seen as good people. Therefore stripping Jews of their “appropriated” Jewish identities (something even Hitler didn’t do) will become virtuous. This terrifies me, terrifies me enough to write about it here despite my usual fears of starting an argument.

***

The feelings of anger and perhaps some fear that triggered the rant persisted for a while. I did some ironing while listening to a shiur (religious class). I’m not sure it was a good thing for me to listen to. It was a mussar-type (ethics/personal development) shiur about being breaking lethargy. It boiled down to being more efficient. I’m not terribly efficient, which is possibly in part an autistic executive function issue. I think it’s easy for me to get caught up in self-blame and low self-esteem when I focus too hard on efficiency, although the shiur presented beating yourself up for falling short as a good strategy to succeed (I don’t think it is, certainly not for me). I also think I need some creative mind-wandering times for my writing, even for divrei Torah (Torah thoughts).

The shiur was based on the writings of Rabbi Kalonymus Kalmish Shapira, the Piaseczno Rebbe. His idea of what a minimal amount of daily private Torah study for someone working (not in full-time yeshiva study) should be was two hours. I do not manage this. On the other hand, the rabbi giving the shiur went to the other extreme and said we should scale down to two minutes, which made me feel that most people are not studying privately if it can be reduced this much, but in pairs (chevruta) or in shiurim. I struggle with paired and group study. Either way, this just seemed to be provoking guilt. Similarly, the idea of celebrating when you achieve your aim sounded good, but I’m not sure I should be blaming myself if I do not succeed as was also suggested.

He also suggested writing a daily plan, which I do, but I fail to stick to very well, which is again probably autism. Also to set difficult goals and push yourself beyond your boundary. I feel I probably ought to be able to find a way to manage this, but I can’t.

I have drifted into total defeatism here, which may in part be hunger and tiredness, but either way, I didn’t get much out of the shiur.

It’s a shame, as the Piaseczno Rebbe‘s teachings have resonated with me in the past, but this just seem unsuited for me, given my autism and tendencies to low self-esteem and self-criticism. I feel there’s a focus on efficiency in the Orthodox world that is hard to live up to (Jewish Young Professional wrote about this here). Compared with some people on the spectrum, I’m pretty organised and efficient, but this type of thing just makes me feel inadequate.

***

I finished reading the novel The Naked Runner by Francis Clifford. It was pretty diverting, but I don’t really buy the premise that intelligence agencies would trick civilians into working for them in the way the book requires – not from scruples, but from practical reasons about training and ability.

***

I’m going to call time on this not very good (although not exactly awful) day. I’m going to post this, turn off my computer, and watch Doctor Who, if I can decide what to watch (the tyranny of choice… actually The Tyranny of Choice does actually sound like the title of a Doctor Who story!). Then go to bed and hope that tomorrow goes better. At any rate, I am spending part of the work day outside the office and have a call with my psychiatrist (hopefully… trying to set that up today was another problem which I haven’t got sorted), so at least tomorrow will be different even if it isn’t good.

Fragment

Work today was unexceptional, except that J and I were halfway to his car after work when I realised I had left my rucksack behind in the office and we had to unlock and go back for it. I felt rather sheepish. I’m not sure how I did that.

***

Someone re-blogged my recent politics post. They gave me attribution, so it’s not plagiarism, and it was in the public domain but I feel vaguely uncomfortable about that particular post being reposted, particularly as it’s a blog that contains no new material, but just reblogs dozens of posts from autism blogs. I think it was probably well-intentioned, but I don’t know for sure.

***

I wrote a couple of paragraphs about Tunnel of Fear, the previously-missing episode of The Avengers that I watched tonight, until I decided it really belonged on my Doctor Who blog, even though it’s not Doctor Who, and early Avengers doesn’t feel like a spiritually similar programme in the way that the Diana Rigg seasons do. I hadn’t posted on that blog for ages. I thought I had given up on writing reviews of things. I suppose technically I still have, as I just wrote about it rather than actively reviewing it. I do feel these days I’d rather write my own stories than analyse or review other people’s.