Maybe that will help for people who view my blog but don't want to be hit by my candor.
A month ago I met this woman online, that is I never actually met her. She had ASD like me. Also like me she described the social world in a similar fashion, she used social algorithms to describe how she related to the world around her, I use social computer programs, causal strings, if this then. She is a teacher too. She has less relationship difficulties because she has breasts, her words. Where I have these social theories about how my computer programs might model the world socially, she has been able to put them into practice and refine them, because she has breasts. Men are pigs. They will fuck anything. Women are not and do not. Some will fuck anything to be sure, but even they are more discerning because they have more choice, so when I said that and when she said that, she was admitting that that was the essential difference between us; she self identifies as a man, a gay man.
She was strongly attracted to me and I was to her—not physically, but experientially. In the end though, she told me that we could not meet because I was not treating my ASD and she was and she did not want to treat my ASD and deal with her own shit. Which I did not think was fair either, but I think a lot of my shit would be solved or atleast be closer to bein solved by being in a relationship. I also have been through the psychiatric system many years ago and I was misdiagnosed and given drugs that did not work. I was not diagnosed with ASD. I was diagnosed with a minor sex addiction, depression and anxiety. One of those three was later removed from the Psychatric textbook. Sex is not an addiction, it is a compulsion. ASD fits far better, but it was missed. Anyways the result is that I don't really trust psychiatrists as much as I did then.
But then things got worse. I got scammed because I wanted so bad to meet someone, and I have been working so much lately that I have been more tired and not as good at thinking when tired and lonely. Truth is than cis-woman man said that he would meet up with me, if I got help. So I have been trying to do just that. After I fell for the first scam, I made a doctor's appointment and got a referral to see a specialist and my appointment is for tomorrow.
What people are willing to do for love, eh? And I am trying not to delude myself, He is a woman who is in a poly relationship. At most I can only expect a limited time with him when his partner is with other people and she is not with other people.
Which brings me to a question that is was given last year that is did not answer correctly then. A woman said, I am not interested in sex much, are you okay with that. My answer was I like sex, I want a lot. I should have answered with the deeper truth that I was not aware of at the time. If I am with you, and we have sex once a month, that is one more time a month than I am currently having. I was unprepared for the question and my answer while true did not match the actual truth. If I were in a relationship the amount of sex would not actually be important as being in a relationship. Once a month, once a week once a day, once a year, never—as long as I was getting something from it, other intimacy. Or permission to seek it from someone else. I might be ready to be polyamorous. Because where would I be if I was not with a Polyamorous person?
I hope tomorrow is helpful. As I told someone recently, I am not coping well with my ASD than I appear to be. Because no one can read my emotional turmoil.
Part 2. I have tendinitis, specifically Tennis Elbow. What that means is that every-time is lift anything with my right arm, it hurts and anytime I lift heavy things I am doing more damage. Things that I do that are damaging my arm more: Driving. Lifting trees. Actually lifting anything. This Wednesday, for example I drove from this suburban wasteland West of BigSmoke to the suburban wasteland North of BigSmoke. Dug out and lifted twenty dead trees up a hill and onto the truck I was driving. Drove back to the places started from, unloaded said dead trees and then went to purchase twenty living trees to replace the dead trees, each of whom weighed around two hundred pounds— not hyperbole, they were six foot cedars, freshly watered with an eighteen inch rootball. Back to the job site. Back down the hill, in wheelbarrows–because I am not stupid, but my helper could not lift the trees, so I had to lift and load them and unload them from the truck; my helper could tip the wheelbarrow over to unload them. Then drive back home because driving three hundred kilometers in a day is a lot of city driving. That was a thirteen and a half hour day with no lunch break and a lot of more arm damage.
Good news, doctor did other check up related stuff. BP is low, 115/67 and my weight is down… a lot down. Sixty pounds down from two years ago. My friend tells me that I have lost the weight too quickly and I have therefore lost muscle mass. I look at him and resolve to never tell him anything ever again, again. Assume I lost the sixty pounds since I started biking to work and working physical labour too. Sixty divided by six months, ten pounds a month, two and a half a week. Has my food intake stayed the same, gone up or down? It has gone up. Also I am eating more fast food too. There is a lot of healthy fast food too. Two pound burritos made with nothing fried and with a dozen and a half different ingredients is way healthier than a quarter pounder and fries. I lost more weight, theoretically, in the first few weeks than the last, but I am still losing weight. I bet I have lost another five pounds since the doctor's appointment, because I have felt the need to bore another hole in my belt since then. Perhaps later tonight. I am still constantly hungry too. Perhaps there are positive health benefits to lifting twenty two hundred pound trees four times a piece over two days. As well as twenty-six kilometers of bike riding every day.
I am depressed. Run down. Intimacy starved.
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