I've had one of those days when I feel like my head was swapped with someone else's and I want it back! Somehow, between going to bed a normal, functioning aspie, I woke up and had to be the voice of sanity for the day. Me, the voice of sanity! I was so taken aback by this turn of events that I spent two hours in an emotional panic.
I wasn't sure how to respond to this new turn of events. I'm so used to it being the other way around - people wanting me to be reasonable and cope with things but me not being able to - that when I realised I was the only one actually being reasonable and coping, I did feel I may have slipped down a quantum side alley.
So, by lunchtime, medicated on tea and biscuits, I turned my attention to the matter in hand and decided to use my new-found stability and clear-headedness to do some good. I reasoned, I talked, I worked things out: I was a whole, real person! Readers, you would have been so proud of me!
I had points to put across and I remembered them all. I didn't even need to make a list. What I can usually say better on paper or on a screen, it came out of my mouth! My arguments were fluid and cohesive. I knew where I was going in the conversation. I stepped up to the mark and told it like it was.
I gave good, sound advice that had nothing to do with the colour of my underwear or how the light fell against the window. I was only vaguely distracted in the middle of the discussion by the thought that I was out and about, having the discussion, at the time I normally do my blog. I quickly turned back to the matter in hand, consoling myself that I would blog later.
I'm not entirely sure where all of this organised thinking came from. I would like to tell you that it's because it was required of me, that I was able to bring it forth, like a magic rabbit. I would love to relate how I've discovered a way to be a whole, useful, dynamic person when it's necessary, casting aside the distractibility of aspergers and coming out of the shadows to strike down confusion and evil-doing.
I'd like to tell you all that, but it wouldn't be true, would it? At best, you would be thinking, 'Ah, she's just had a good day, she'll be back to painting pigs tomorrow.'
Dear readers, shall I tell you where I think all this rational thinking and coherent argument came from? I think it came from the most dreadful night's sleep I've had for a very long time. Let me explain.
I knew that today I would have difficult discussions and that I needed to confront things and people (confront! shriek at the thought!). So, I was already worried about that, let alone worrying over the issues at hand. I had lots of things I wanted to say, but wasn't sure how I needed to say them. I had an awful lot to think about and it all lay ahead of me, in today.
Last night, when I finally went to sleep, I had already thought through it all, plotting the conversations, working out the variables, doing the whole aspie super-computer thing, trying to work out what was best. As soon as I was asleep, I woke up again. Once this had happened a few times, I did sleep. And dreamt. A lot. Then, just for fun, repeat the above a few times until 7.30am rolled round and I gave up on bed.
I staggered into the day, clutching my cup of tea and resolutely staring at the computer screen, wondering how I would be capable of driving RT teen to college, never mind the rest of it. By the time I had eaten breakfast, got dressed, made the packed lunch and climbed into the car, I felt like a slightly warmer shade of yellow than I had when I woke up. What on earth was I to do?
Then, once the day picked up pace, that was when I realised that I was the sane one. Somehow, faced with a difficult day with lots of responsibilities, my sleep-deprived, addled brain rose up out of its slumber and thought, 'What the heck, let's have a look at it.'
I think that my night of torment, of dreams, cogitations, planning conversations, worrying over the arguments: I think all of that was lying behind my eyes, ready to be used. And, thanks to being only one step away from sleep for most of the day, there was no barrier to stop it coming out. I was too tired to over-think, too exhausted to consider other people's feelings for more than a moment. My arguments came across loud and clear because there was nothing in the way.
In other words, all my usual aspie inhibitions had stayed in bed, with the covers pulled up. The part of me let loose on the world was the bundle of worries and discussions I'd had with myself through the restless night. That part, with nothing left to hold it back, had the best time ever, getting its point across, having its say, letting nothing and no one prevent it from telling it like it was.
Yes, almost a complete triumph, readers, if my goal had been to step on toes, slap people with wet fish til they saw sense and wait for the world to catch up with my inescapable logic.
Shall I tell you a secret, though? It's an ironical secret. After all that, with my open, clear, wondrous, almost elemental connection to this sane and rational part of myself, guess what happened? Absolutely nothing. I held no sway, I changed no points of view, I moved no mountains. And do you know why?
Despite my arguments and thinking being at the top of their game, I was defeated by one simple fact which I pointed out to you at the start of this post: I was the only sane person in my world today. And the trouble with that is, it means you're a lone voice. So even though I was speaking sense and saying things I had waited years to say, none of it changed the outcome of the day.
The decisions made yesterday held true for today. I didn't change them, though I did throw some light on how they came to be made. And I did get quite a few things out of my system!
All things considered, I think it's still safe to call the day a success. I got to experience what it's like to be the sensible one for a change, to see things from another perspective. I unburdened myself of some truths which have been hanging around, causing trouble, for a long time. I actually sustained a full, step-by-step discussion and brought it back on-point when it diverted away from me.
Readers, I have to say I'm paying the price now as I've been nothing but silly for the past few hours. And my head feels like a family of woodfinches are bedding down for the night in there. Also, the lack of sleep has evaporated and I now feel like running out, wild and squealing, into the middle of the garden, to do my happy dance.
I would rather not be sensible and coherent every day. It's very nice to visit, but I wouldn't want to live here. I much prefer the buzz of letting the real world take care of itself while I get on with my own important stuff. But you know, just for once, I quite enjoyed being the voice of reason...
Now, with or without wellies, in the garden?
Amanda
My books and writing blog, with free stuff.
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