Please read the Introduction first
Last night, I had an existential revelation. The explanation is rather long and involved, but I think it might resonate with some autistics. Perhaps an autistic will recognize themselves, or a neurotypical friend. Either way, you may find this interesting:
Some couples, like Jamie & I, experience varying degrees of friction caused by what I call “The Lucy Syndrome”. The “Lucy” refers to Lucy Ricardo, the main character of the very old TV comedy “I Love Lucy”. Lucy was always doing things she was not supposed to be doing. This brought about responses from her Hispanic husband Ricky such as “Lucy! I tol’ you not to cook me dinner because I was gonna be at the club ‘til late!”, or “Lucy! I as’ you not to move the furniture! Now look, you broke the chair.” and the famous “Luuucy… You gotta a lotta ‘splainin’ to do!”. Ricky was persistently irritated, disappointed, and sometimes hurt, by Lucy’s antics. In TV land, somebody else’s misery is frequently funny; especially when it happens in front of a live audience. But not so funny in real life. In real life, it makes me feel like my thoughts and opinions don’t matter to her; she just does what she wants regardless of what I think… I don’t matter.
There is a fairly constant electronic messaging that goes on in our close-knit neighborhood of ~17 people. Somebody is always having an informal get together at their house, or somebody’s boat-house, or just at somebody’s fire pit. Jamie is part of this informal network, while I am not. The reason I am not included is that I have become somewhat of a recluse; not attending any of these impromptu functions. I don’t go because ever since I found out that I’m autistic, I feel that my autistic behavior is “obvious”. If you were to grow up (and old) hearing about the “Village Idiot”, it is humiliating to finally find out that you are the “Village Idiot”; knowing that I’m autistic makes me very self conscious and uncomfortable in any type of social setting. This unintentional lack of inclusion makes me feel lonely, forgotten, and irrelevant. The fact the situation is one of my own making, does not mitigate the feeling of being inconsequential.
Jamie has always had a habit of encroaching on my “spaces”. I don’t drive much anymore, so Jamie is more often than not driving alone in the car. She invariably piles her “stuff” on the passenger seat. When the occasion arises where I am to accompany her in the car, I find my seat is occupied by her junk, where I’m supposed to be; my autism feels this as a minor “slight”; I don’t count enough to even have a seat in the damned car. I’ll find a few hard-boiled eggs in the section of the refrigerator that is where my Slim-Fast goes, or there is a quart of strawberries where my seltzer goes; again, the autistic in me feels “slighted”. Wherever I have storage space, in our very small cottage, and its informally designated as mine, its only a matter of time before her stuff starts growing into the space. My autism somewhat mandates that there are items that belong in specific places: the TV remote should be next to the TV when not in use, pens/pencils belong in the tray next to the recliners, the dog’s collars are hung on the rack, etc. But it never stays that way; the stuff I need is scattered everywhere. It feels like her stuff is more important than my stuff, and that she doesn’t care that this organized placement of items is essential to my comfort in the environment. Obviously, I don’t matter enough to warrant her attention to a little organization.
Putting any two of the aforementioned three scenarios together may be uncomfortable at times, but life goes on unceremoniously. Putting all three together creates an environment where I am completely useless to anyone, for anything! I no longer have any value as a human being. It’s an environment so toxic that suicide ideation seeps in. Making plans… just in case I can’t stand the pain & humiliation of an inconsequential life anymore. None of the elements is life-crucial; to the average person it would probably just be depressing. To this old and insecure autistic, the combination makes life untenable.
Now comes the revelation! Last night, I watched as Jamie was about to put her glass in the cup-holder on my side of the recliner love seat, because the cup-holder on her side of the love-seat recliners was occupied by her bottle of Dr. Pepper. As she put her glass in my cup-holder a thundering revelation hit that made me almost hop up and down, while flailing my arms… Jamie was NESTING!!! That’s all it was! That’s all any of it was! Jamie was just nesting!! She didn’t think her stuff was more important than mine, she just needed a place for her stuff! It had nothing to do with me! These were just places to put her overflowing nest-stuff in. Jamie just kept needing a bigger NEST!!! Holy SHIT! It all made sense now… everything made sense now. Even her being “Lucy” became clear to me. She wasn’t ignoring me because I wasn’t important; she wasn’t ignoring me at all! Jamie just needs to do certain things that she knows she can accomplish easily, but she needs to avoid confrontation! So its just less stressful for her to do what she needs to do, and address any conflict after the fact; its easier to ask forgiveness than to argue about “permission”. A flood of relief and laughter. Even Jamie didn’t know she was nesting, until I said it out loud.
Sunlight shines, again! Even the neighborhood network seems minor now. I woke up early, today… ready to enjoy the day! I don’t know if this feeling will last, but I’ll take it for now.