June 21st 2017

Communication, people. in People suck. Cats are awesome. Dogs are alright.

•  June 21, 2017, 12:41 a.m.
 
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• Public

I read a lot of posts from autistic people who can’t find a partner, and neurotypicals who are in relationships with aspies and miserable. Supposedly we’re unaffectionate robots who neither need love, nor provide it to our partners.

No question, I don’t need the same level of emotional support as the vast majority of people, women especially. When I was single, men found that attractive. Don’t want to be particularly romantic or clingy? Fine by me. I’d rather just play video games and paint all day anyway. Plus I love older cars, and apparently I’m very rude. Once upon a time I was very popular with the stoner/biker crowd. Not that I really have much in common with your average men, either, but when you’re sick and tired of the usual romantic bullshit, apparently an aspie girl is sort of like a breath of fresh air.

Now the obvious, and most well known downside to autism spectrum disorders is the fact that we DO NOT GET HINTS OR INTIMATION. For twenty years I’ve had these arguments with the Male, that always at some point include me saying “I can’t read your mind!”.

As of about twenty months ago, I now know why I always end up saying that, as does he. And at some point I added an amendment to our relationship: “You are not allowed to get mad at me for things that I can’t help”. And slowly, he’s gotten better in that regard. I’ve had to point it out, every time I didn’t “get” something, sometimes with him huffing at me at the time, then apologizing the next day. At first he was saying “You know what you’re doing!”, and arguing with me, and I had to insist that “No; no I really don’t. And you can either learn to not to get mad at me about it, since I can’t ever change it; or I can learn to live by myself.”

It’s been months now since we had a problem like that. Tonight broke that winning streak, and tomorrow I’ll be getting another apology. The obvious question being: At what point do I decide that this is an ongoing pattern, that it isn’t going to change, and that I, therefore, need to split?

I keep track of our fights in a separate, completely private, diary; specifically for the purpose of seeing patterns. If we argue over the same thing repeatedly, I see that as a big, red, flashing light. - And this particular topic of argument is a bigger deal to me than most of the others. - I would equate it to yelling at your partner for their skin color, or being in a wheelchair. - The fact that the disability is inside my skull, and invisible, doesn’t give him, or ANYBODY any right to pretend that I’m faking it.

For christ’s sakes; why the fuck would anybody fake having a neurological disorder?

No. This won’t fly. It changes, or I go live alone, with my animals and ADT.

To answer the obvious question of “What happened?”, he tried coming on to me while I was watching Futurama Live on Facebook. The chair was uncomfortable, and I’d waited days to see that, so that wasn’t working; and he went to bed. After it was over, I tried getting affectionate, and he was half asleep, so I asked him, just as nice as I could, if he wanted me to leave him alone so he could sleep; and all he did was move his head in the slightest, sort of diagonal motion. So I said “What does that mean? “, and he didn’t make a sound at all. So, figuring he needed to sleep for work, I said, “Since you’re not saying anything, and I know you need to get your sleep, I’m just going to leave you alone.” And as soon as I stood up, he punched the bed and started cussing under his breath. After some argument, at one point, he said “You know mother f!@#ing well!”.

“Uh, no. No I don’t. We’ve had this conversation.” And I put in my earplugs and left him there. Because f!@# that.

And I know some particularly nice person is going to think that I’m in an abusive relationship because he swears when he’s mad. Let me assure you that our fights have always had a lot of swearing, on both our parts. I’m very capable of defending myself. A fragile flower I’m not, nor would I want to be romantically entangled with one. - It’s not the cussing that bothers me. It’s the reason for the cussing.

And that will stop. One way or another. I guarantee it.