Calm

Space to breathe again.
Camomile calm, soothing balm:
solitude; my prize.

SiKee 1110

Drops

Awash with slapped thoughts...
Brain bleach, sweep clean
Alice-band like, from cranium's front to rear -
Yet the drops remain.

Narrow doubt hies here:
turns mind up / down.
He sees the sense but misses the joy of it.
Still the drops remain.

Human fault? His bad?
Big asks, old points.
Derailing again these bunching trains of thought
'cos the drops remain.

SiKee 1010

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Emotions - sweet or sour?

Amazing, this, the way in which a planned comedown from antidepressant drugs affects me. Now, before I bore, let me clarify the situation: I've been on prescribed Citalopram for over a year now and the depression's not got any better. In fact, the abject greyness of life lends, in itself, a more saddening existence than the mad roller-coaster of my erstwhile emotional palette.

Why amazing? I'm not entirely sure that the full extent of the emotional spectrum is something I'm used to dealing with anymore. Now, I'm normally one who believes that man's an adaptable creature and that, with a little application, changes can be turned into improvements, rather than retrograde steps. But, as it appears in my case, the monochrome filter was easier for me to work with - the Asperger Syndrome wanted normality, a mean mien, a sliced-through emotional stratum, a quantised set of responses, if you will. To coin a metaphor: the drum beat's no longer four on the floor, but heading jazz-wards and out through the door.

I'm scared. It's one thing to talk about feelings rationally, logically, perhaps, but how do you formulate a new frame of reference when the past, in colour, is a distant, whitish dot, vanishing into a screen of blankness and the only thing that made sense was the removal of hues and cries?

So what to do? I cannot go on denying myself the colour I desperately need and make sense of my new, recalibrated emotional state. To stay in the grey would mean suffering more of the Black Dog, realising that numbness did not eradicate the problem at all, did not make me well, but acted like a filter, a sieve, an analgesic, which masked reality and made it more difficult to comprehend than it actually is.

Depression is not about which drug cures me, it seems. No, I think it's more to do with living with the imperfections of my life and letting it all wash over me. I just need to reprogram for a colour-fast load, minus the spin-cycle, I guess...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Mind like Water

Clouded existence. A lightness now felt
as I climb through lenticular waves of normality
to blue skies around, alighting by these,
walking on cotton wool, newfound ground zero.
How oddly new I feel.
I'm boiled like water:
purified and cleared away;
obscured -
once turbid, now limpid.
How black and mirrored and white I could be
a shifting moiré of uncertainty:
she stirs me as she stirs the hair on the back of my head.
He stirs me as he stirs the clouds in his coffee.

SiKee 0510

To Account

Locus and motion: it's chaos, it's wheeled:
dusty propulsion, pre-pulsed and and well-heeled.
See minds meandering: dull daily grind,
See more in passing, all jostle, unkind...
Smoke hazards hello one man's passing eyes,
then, eyeblink-quick, the omnipresent flies
descend, down upon this statement most raw
from unseemly traitors, mere mongrels of war...
A robot's arm grasps... A gasp and a sigh -
stopping another attack from On High.
This endless problem we cannot surmount:
for none will be there when they're called to account.

SiKee 0510

Eyjafjallajökull

She coughed and sighed
and breath-winds blew.
The oceans' tumult turned and threw
Her glassy sneezes overseas:
Top of world, brought to its knees.
A plea to god
From souls in doubt,
while soulless madly shout about
Their deadlines and their man-made hiss
of cancelled noise and homely bliss.
None paused to think or to reflect
still none would humbly genuflect
or bow towards this high deflature:
a fart from dear old Mother Nature.

SiKee 0410

On limerence

A flame once burning
has reappeared
and folded herself
around me
I burn
and yearn
for her touch.
Knowledge is too much
for this simple soul.
A yearning to be told:
This story of old.
How I once saw you...
Forgot and alone...
No more you'll ever be!

SiKee 0310

Asperger Syndrome

I have been diagnosed as one who "has it". I'm not sure what it all means yet, but it's given me licence to stop trying to be something that I am not and stressing myself out. I've always felt that I've not quite fitted in. I guess I can now stop trying, as I quite obviously was never meant to. The most important revelation to me is that I now know I am not doing anything "wrong".

Is this all about alienation? I think some may perceive it as so. I forget the last time when I have arrived home and not felt a sense of relief at being able to close the door upon the world and leave it all outside, safe in my own solitude. I do miss some things that people or animals give, but these things are ephemera - I have to be in the mood for them. It sounds disingenuous, but that's the way it is and has always been, for me.

One thing I am more aware of is my affinity to animals. I guess it's a gift (or a curse, when a pet in a social in the group won't leave me alone). It's as if they know something I (and other humans) don't. I just seem to have an understanding of them and am able to read them better than humans. Maybe it's perceived as such - maybe they read me better than other people. I'm not sure which is more correct. Note to self - topic for study.

I'm still amazed at people's reactions to me. Some think it's fine. Others think I have a disease and ask when I'm to be cured. Some treat me with the same apparent disdain. Some think it's in their interest to play it down and state it's nothing special, as if it's something I'm going to hide behind or use in order to make myself feel better. People are still an enigma to me - how they can be so judgmental from a position of relative ignorance is a constant source of frustration and annoyance.

On the subject of AS, I'm going to write a short paper on the possible correlation between road traffic collision severity and autism spectrum disorders. I think two key areas have piqued my interest - hazard perception and physical dyspraxia (both common symptoms of the spectrum). It would be interesting to find out if there is a link. I have not come across anything written about the subject of ASDs and driving yet.

So, I'll continue, but the blog will become more of a regular diary. Today may be the start of something wonderful. Oh - almost forgot - each entry will still have a piece of doggerel attached to it, to whit: today's haiku about my current frustration:

On Antidepressants

Calm, before a storm
of my soaring emotions -
dented due to drugs