Cat therapy

After years of longing for a cat and a visit to the cat cafe 2 weeks ago . . . I threw caution to the wind, consulted Kijiji for cats needing rehoming and . . . picke up Abby on Sunday. It was quite the trek through small towns and concession roads to find her, but we eventually did and she is sweet, affectionate, and chatty. I'm not sure I can handle the chatty part after my many years of silence . . . but I welcome the affection and the company, particularly as E heads to Australia for two weeks on Wednesday.

Having an Asperger's spouse means you have to find many other ways of finding happiness.

I started reading When Breath Becomes Air last night and I realize that I must make my life my own and not wallow in resentment and frustration and stagnation. I've been feeling so down about everything, but . . . I have to move myself on, even if I stay in this marriage. There has to be a way to return to who I am and become my best self, even without my husband's attentive support.

Weekend Alone

I always look forward to the precious few weekends alone with my husband. This is one of them, except, well, he's out at his daughter's 17th birthday party and I'm at home, eating leftovers. It is better this way. I don't have to endure the craziness of his ex-wife, her 3rd husband, his Aspie son, his Aspie daughter, their ODD half-sister, and his ex-father in law. I really can't handle all that dysfunction at one time. I can barely handle being alone with my Aspie partner.

Yesterday, we went out to try a new restaurant. It was Friday and I was exhausted, and told him that I didn't have much energy, hoping he'd make the effort to carry our conversation . . . but that didn't happen. Instead, he sat across from me, blankly, while he awaited his meal. His conversation focused on the meal, but after that topic was more than exhausted, he was back to his blankness. I couldn't do much more than tolerate it, but later . . . waking in the middle of the night, I tried to talk to him about it, and his response was that he was "trying" to engage with me and that what he was doing was "all he could do." It is hard not to be offended by that.

When we do have these weekends alone, I hope that we can connect and enjoy spending time together without our kids and their varied needs and demands, but it never works out that way. We are so far apart now that I feel like we'll never be able to reconnect. Then what? Where do I go from here? What to I do if all he can give me is a blank stare and excuses for why he can't communicate with me?

It's discouraging.

Morning Reflections

The first thing I did when I woke up around 5 am this morning was to think of 10 things I'm grateful for. After that and rolling around a bit, I decided to do my usual online scan in bed. I found an article about how to determine you are in a toxic relationship - 1. Does it make you unhappy? Yes,  2. Does it make you feel good about yourself? No, 3. Do you look forward to seeing him? Sometimes, 4. Do you see your friends as often? No, 5. Has your style radically changed? No.

Well, there is a problem, but . . . there are always problems with relationships with aspies. Does this mean I leave? I haven't yet. I can't seem to. There always seems to be just a little more good than bad that keeps me in it.

There is love, sure . . . but I can't feel it when I don't 1. hear it, 2. see it, 3. feel it.

So, now I'm full on in complaint mode, whereas I started the morning in gratitude.

How does that happen?

My question to myself is . . .

1. What makes me happy?
Used to be connecting, still is, with like-minded, creative souls. Now . . . I tend to do this through books, book and writing clubs, but nothing intimate, nothing really significant, besides spending time with my daughter. Otherwsie, interactions all tend to be . . . social and somewhat superficial. I can become happier, I know, through outdoor activities, exercise, regular outings with my daughter, discussions with friends (time permitting), and creative pursuits. I have to try to do more of those.

2. What makes me feel good?
Solitude. That's the one thing I've relied on for a couple of years now. Just being by myself. Doing what pleases me - reflecting, reading, walking, and writing. That's what has kept me going.

3. Can I spend more time with friends?
Yes, and I should, but I tend to default to solitude because it is easier.

4. Can I spend more time expressing myself through my choices - clothes, etc.?
Yes, and I think I do, when I can.

5. Is there any way make my interactions with my husband more positive?
Well, we try to do things together that we both enjoy - eating out, movies, reading, and walking/running. If we could really communicate and collaborate - that would help, but it seems almost impossible. I can try to think of things to help - a question deck, a project, an outing. I guess that will take some work . . . because he can't think in that direction. The problem is . . . it always feels like me providing sustenance to me, using him to do it, but without his active intent to participate.

It isn't easy to feel good with an aspie partner. I think that's the bottom line.

My Life Without You

I haven't seen my husband since last Sunday. I started teaching again, and he left Wednesday for a conference in Louisiana. He's coming back this evening.

How was the week? Fine. Not much different than usual. I returned home on the nights I usually saw him and "crawled into bed" like someone in a Swedish novel. Thus, I caught up on my sleep and was able to keep up to the demands of a new position and the chaos of the return to school. What now?

Well, he's back for only two weeks before heading to Australia for another two. That means his kids will be with him and I'll be sidelined. This is never any fun. Most of this isn't fun, but I'm used to it. Next weekend, my daughter will be with her father and I'll be alone. This is always the hardest thing, feeling like I have no one to share my weekends with. Thankfully, winter is a good excuse to stay in and read . . . but sometimes it is nice to get out and play, which A and I did today, sliding down the icy slopes of the nearby park in the midday winter sun, the blaze of white and blue sky making it seem bright and balmy. After several trips up and down the hills, we sprawled back on our sleds and sun bathed. It was just what we needed, after a stressful week of snarling cold.

We are in the worst of it . . . or almost . . . the deep freeze and burn of mid-winter. I can't say I like it. I'd rather try to pull of the Danish Hygge - staying in and cozying up to candles, faux-fur throws, and sweets. Since I'm having a Dry January,  there's no comforting toddy or mulled wine libations around . . . but the month is already halfway gone. February will be fast upon us  . . . and I'll look forward to more light and love and libations.

More insight would be nice, too. I'd like to know how to get through the challenges of living alone while committed to someone who even when present is emotionally absent. There must be some better way to survive the cold.

4 am

In the middle of my night
nudged awake, I think by
conscience, I wrestle and fight
myself, asking the shadows, "Why
am I
with him?"
They, in their quiet wisdom, gaze
meaningfully at me, and my
dark thoughts deepen.
Every morning I must
choose to be, lost in the swirl of
light and noise, the clamour and chaos
deafening their whispers of
warning.

Alone again

After a whirwind morning of shopping with my girl, she is back with her father until school starts. I'll be alone for days. I'm trying not to think of this as a bad thing.

My partner, my husband, is on the other side of the river. His children are with him after being at their maternals grandfather's through the holidays. I can't begrudge him this time. I need time myself, but find it hard to make good use of my freedom when I'm forced into being alone. That's how it feels. I was supposed to have my daughter this weekend according to the schedule, but my ex wants her and . . . I acquiesced because I knew I needed to sort and plan and . . . I do, but I'd rather hang out and enjoy the embers of the holiday, reading and watching movies.

Being by myself isn't nearly as exciting and hanging out with my daughter and it reminds me too much of being single. I feel single most of the time, because I'm not in a normal marriage.

I'm in a second-aspie marriage, which is like dating a narcissist all over again and feeling like a long-suffering mistress, but it is slightly better than being entirely alone. At least, that's how I've felt until now.

Until now, I've put up with this because I think it has some benefits, which it does, but I am really hoping to understand whether those are outweighed by the many unfortunate deficits I also experience on a regular basis. Being alone on the last holiday weekend of the holiday season is one of those negatives that I will wrestle with over the next few days. The problem is . . . I have little strength for it.

New Year's Eve Day

It isn't yet evening. It is just before 10 am and I just finished the first round of exam marking. I have the weekend to review my essays and exams and compile final marks, which are due on Tuesday. I can almost breathe a sigh of relief, but unfortunately, I can't. I'm stressed about not hearing from my daughter, who has been with her father for the last 7 days and hasn't called. She would call, given the opportunity, I'm sure, which is partly why I am stressed. When she is with me, she knows she can call her father anytime. I don't think that it true when she is with him.

A few years ago, when she was much younger, I had to take him to court in order to get an order for nightly phone calls from her when she was with him. Those calls have never happened, but I really don't want to go back to court. It is stressful and expensive. I just want to know my little girl is okay. It really worries me when I don't hear from her.

That's one stressful thing. A large one. Another is that my now 90-year-old father sent me a strange email two nights ago telling me he had to change his will. When I asked my brother, the state executor, what was going on, he told me he had no idea of any change to the will. All this makes me quite suspicious of my older sister, who had been visiting my father recently and who is extremely avaricious. I don't trust her, particularly because my father is already suffering from dementia. I keep wondering what is going on and, although I asked my father and my brother to clarify, I've heard nothing. My sister, for some bizarre and unknown reason, has not spoken to me since my mother's death 15 years ago. I believe she resented my decision not to sell my mother's childhood home, because my sister wanted the money. She never explained what was wrong, just broke off all contact with me and everyone for the last 14 years, only returning to visit my father this year after his massive heart-attack last year. I think she is sniffing around for the spoils. Have I mentioned that I don't trust her?

The third reason I'm stressed is that I've been alone with my husband for the past 7 days and . . . nothing has really happened. I mean, he makes no effort to connect to me, we spend time together, but he is mostly blank-faced and silent. This is partly attributable to his AS, but it is also frustrating and lonely to be with someone who shows so little interest and enthusiasm for me or for our shared experiences. I do wonder how long I can handle this and look forward to the return of our children so that I have an excuse for getting away and finding other people to talk to.

Living with an AS partner is stressful. It always feels like I'm alone, or worse, neglected. I keep thinking I should try harder to expand my social circles, but there is only so much of that you can do, especially when your life is busy with a young child and multiple workplaces and commitments. I do what I can and will continue to seek other like-minded souls. Obviously, my husband isn't one of them.

New Year's Poem

Snow in a million steady flakes,

covers the icy slush,

disguising its danger,

making the New Year possible again,

or some hope for a blank slate,

a blaze of soft white to

hide the dinge of grey.

This is not the first day, yet

we will celebrate it and

freedom from the ache of cold

and pelting ice

of days before.  

Slush

I woke early in order to try to figure out how to enter my final marks in the new system. Unfortunately, the help desk didn't open until 8:15 am, and when it did, I was rerouted several times before final breaking in to the new site and starting the painfully slow process of mark entry and verification. A and I took a break after my first batch of entries, and walked through the pelting of freezing rain to a Timmy's for a coffee and a bagel. I returned home just in time to receive my TA's call with her batch of marks, then finally, by 2 pm, it was done.

Unfortunately, the freezing rain prevented me from honouring my promise of a day of shopping and a movie outing for A. I told her I'd make it up tomorrow and over the weekend. Instead of going out, we watched one of my favourite Christmas movies - Love Actually. It was a little difficult for A to understand, but I htink she enjoyed it.

E's kids have returned from Toronto and he's having his holiday time with them. We've split into our bio families - our most comfortable settings. Certainly, I suffer over at Aspie world with him and his children. He is equally uncomfortable (I'm convinced) with A and my effusive expressions of love and affection for each other. What to do? I'm never sure. The blend has never been easy, it is something akin to freezing rain and slush, with about as much discomfort all around.

Passengers

As I mentioned in my last post, we saw the movie Passengers yesterday. We didn't have high expectations, but I really liked it. I thought it was thought provoking. It certainly made me think about how I experience my partner. He is robotic, much like the bartender in the movie, spouting out platitudes and superficial chatter, but never really engaging emotionally. Then there's the hero in the movie, a man who is feeling and complex, and because of that he does something manipulative and cruel. That describes many of the partners I've had before. So, my question to myself was . . . what's better - being safe and disconnected or emotionally engaged and at risk? I suppose I have already chosen to be 'safe' and am suffering the consequences. I know this is black and white thinking. When I met my partner, he seemed secure and kind and dependable. Coming off the terrible circumstances of my first marriage made my current partner seem like a white knight. Unfortunately, I couldn't see beyond the fantasy. Now I recognize what I was looking for, why I chose my partner, and maybe why he tried so hard to hide the fact that he wasn't 'real' from me. Certainly, he wasn't aware of the extent of his own limitations, but he also hid a lot from me that would have helped me understand who he really was. He really is many good things, but he has limitations that make him feel emotionally vapid. I have been reading Aspergers in Love by Maxine Aston and she suggests that men with AS can and do feel love and that they "can and do have full and intimate relationships," but I am still unsure of that myself. I'm trying, but my circumstances often feel as bleak as being lost in space with only a platitude-spouting robot for company.

2017!

Happy New Year!

It came in like a lamb for me, sleeping deeply under the duvet. I was up before 7 am, reading, then I bundled up and headed out into the morning sun and snow. E was up when I returned. He sleeps a lot more than I do.

Our eve was filled with reading and reflecting, munching on our cheese board extravaganza, drinking whiskey sours and Italian wine. We never made it to the champagne, but there is always today. We are heading to see Passengers soon, a small outing to break up the long and wintry day.

What do I want for 2017?

1. Clarity
2. Radiant good health and strength of mind
3. Confidence
4. Creative inspiration and expressive power
5. Connection

Will it happen? I can try.

Year End

I usually try to do a year in review for myself before the New Year in order to come to terms with what happened. Usually, I scroll back through my journals and try to summarize everything that happened each month. I keep that list as a reminder of the events of the year, but it should really be more than that. Perhaps here I can try to understand what happened and what I have learned from it.

I believe the whole process of living is about learning. This isn't true of my spouse. He seems perplexed by the notion and completely unable to see his own life through this kind of lens. As far as he is concerned, he's just living and there is no need to consider the process. This may be characteristic of Aspergers, but I'm not sure. I'm still trying to understand what Aspergers means, how much of who he is can be attributed to his personality and how much of his behaviour is dictated by the condition.

There are still many things to consider. I may not want this anymore. I have tried, over the past 11 months, to think about how to be happy with someone who is not able to support me emotionally, despite the fact that he says he wants to. He lacks "theory of mind" and is unable to respond to even direct suggestions about appropriate behaviours. Often, he doesn't respond to me at all. For example, we went out to dinner the other day. We were sampling wine. His conversation focused solely on that fact. He ate, he drank, he commented, but otherwise, he sat before me with a blank expression on his face, saying nothing. This is fairly typical of our interactions. If I don't carry the conversation, it doesn't move forward. I have been sick with a nasty flu for the past three weeks, so I've had little energy, but he's done nothing to help me during this time. He avoids me. I don't have the energy to deal with him, so I don't. I can't. I've reached a point now, just over 7 years in to this relationship, where I can no longer do all of the work to make it work. I'm not sure I'll stay. Maybe this year will tell. I tried to figure it out last year, but couldn't because it was all too new and overwhelming. Now I know what I'm dealing with and I'm struggling to decide if I can continue to live with this situation.

Happily Ever After Aspergers?

I've added a subtitle to my blog to reflect the thunderbolt realization that I came to last February that my husband, the one I've been struggling to understand for the past 7 and a half years, is actually a man with Aspergers. I know that label is one that he resists and that most people shy away from, but having it in place has changed my world and made me realize that all of the most troubling aspects of our married life finally had an explanation that made sense. The label of Aspergers made everything clear. Reading about the "condition" and how having it affected relationships and marriage shocked me to my core. All of the problems that I attributed to our stepfamily condition were really facets of dealing with an Aspergers' spouse and his offspring. In fact, I came to the realization that he had Aspergers after learning about his son's Tourette's, ADHD, and LD diagnoses the previous spring. The counsellor who spoke to him about his son's condition noted that my spouse had Tourette's symptoms as well. That became something we were able to talk about thereafter. Then, in February, after reading an article about an adult who realized that they had Aspergers, I realized that my spouse not only had Tourette's, but it was co-morbid with his Aspergers.

This has been a long, hard year. 2016 has been tough for many of us; for me it was the year of the hard truths. I am married to a man who will likely never change his odd and frustrating habits and rigid and perplexing routines. His condition makes him unable to truly appreciate and empathize with my feelings. Certainly, he is unable to actively engage with me in a way that I have always expected of an intimate partner. I have no sense of him being present or even truly intimate with me. I am often terribly lonely and fear that I am losing hope. I want to use this blog to try to recover and restore some sense of order and understanding to my experiences. I am hoping that 2017 will be a better, more fulfilling, more uplifting year, not only for me, but for all of us. We could all use a little more hope.

Tropical Island

E and I just returned from a tropical island getaway. It was lovely to feel the sun's heat on my skin, to hear ocean waves churning in the distance, to see a wide blue sky, and to drink and eat tropical fruit like mangoes, guava, and passion fruit. A few days like that should be able to carry one a long way through winter, but back in the cold . . . it seems to linger less in mind that I'd hope it would. There must be ways to keep that tranquil state breathing into the present.

I will try, over the next weeks of winter, to bring the relaxation and beauty present in that trip home. I made a list of things to do on my phone and I'll seek out warm winter break opportunities these next two months. There must be a public sauna somewhere . . . there must be opportunities to be out enjoying the sun, even in the frigid air. I've never been one for winter sports, but that may be a place to start . . . last year it all felt too much with the cold, this year may be easier. Getting through winter is always a personal challange for me, but I will have to look for sunny ways to warm my heart.

Island

A and I watched About a Boy the other day, which was a lovely movie about the importance of community. I would like to strengthen my sense of community and my social ties., especially because my marriage is so distant. Yesterday, I went on a long, cold walk along the river with my newly widowed neighbour. It was a bit awkward, as we have nothing in common but the neighbourhood, but it felt good nevertheless. It was a small gesture of connection. I would like to increase those.

Over the holidays I read the wonderful this is happy by Camilla Gibb. It was also a meditation on intimacy and community. What I appreciated most about the memoir was her brutal honesty about family dysfunction and the legacy of growing up with it. I am convinced my continual sense of alienation stems from a difficult childhood. Her book is a good illustration of how we can overcome our past to create new kinds of families and communities. I would like to do that, but perhaps I am still too much in recovery mode, particularly given my recent scuttle with my family of origin. I decided I wouldn't return for Christmas this year, and it was the best decision for me, but it also felt like a huge loss, particularly for A, I think. She has always been the reason I've returned, and I hope she'll understand why I can't do it anymore.

You have to be careful about who you let close to your heart. I'm a fan of islands.

Happy 2016!

Oh, the best laid plans. I had planned on writing everyday, but . . . as life would have it, I didn't. Now, I regret it, but I'm vowing to start again.

I love blogging, but maybe not always, so on days I don't blog, I'm going to online journal, reflect in a private way on my life experience, as a still newly-married woman in a second marriage with step kids. This is a far more challenging relationship than I expected. I should have known better, but no one can really prepare you for the feelings you experience when you are in this position. It feels like an ongoing conflict that you have no hope of resolving. I've coped by disengaging, as many other stepmothers on various forums have advised. Now, I live in a separate residence, across a river from my "beloved" and his kids. It makes it easier. It is more like a long term affair, something that Harriet Lerner described in one of her books on motherhood as perhaps the best possible option for stepmothers. I agree. Living with my partner and his children feels far too much like I'm a despised outsider. I no longer want to be in that position.

Instead, A and I can live here, alone, creating our own family rituals. This is how it will be. It isn't as I imagined. It is far less than I hoped for, but that's what is. I can only accept or reject it. I choose not to reject it . . . yet. I may change my mind someday if some other option presents itself, but for now, I'm resigned to this half-life. Another half-life. It seems that is all I've ever seen on offer.

Write again

The darkness of fall is upon me. I turn in again to reflect. These cold months are about coming to terms with our own darkness, I'm convinced.

I'm listening to a podcast about the Jungian notion of the shadow
and how important it is to creativity -- http://www.thetoolsbook.com/toolbox/.

My shadow is backed into a corner and howling in indignation. What the f are you doing to me? Pay attention! I'm f ing starving! Give me something I can sink my teeth into! I'm hungry!

I am watching my shadow fearfully. What, me? 

Yes, you, stupid. I'm wretched. Give me something!

Like what?

Meat! Substance! Meaning! 

I'm not sure I have any.

Bullshit!

Okay. I'll look into it. 

I'll try writing again. I'll show up and hope for everything that hasn't been flowing for a long, long time.

I'll start tomorrow.

Spring?

Okay, where is it? I hear and see birds, a good sign, but it is so blustery and grey that it feels like lingering in winter's last gasp. I hung a birdhouse today after being inspired by my cross-the-street neighbours who have several birdhouses and feeders hanging in the bare branches of their little tree. Just looking at that everyday cheers me up, so I decided to do the same. I don't think they'll mind.

We returned from a trek north yesterday. Spending Easter with my family was relatively low-key this time, as my Brasilian sister-in-law scaled down celebrations because her mother is back in Brasil and she hasn't the extra help to prepare all the festivities. My father is somewhat recovered from his heart attack, but no less acerbic. He seems to delight in making offensive remarks, especially directed at me, but I've decided not to take any bait.

Having A and E with me helps me deal with the return, so I'm always grateful when they are both there. Even so, I am often ensnared in nostalgia. This time the big news is that my long-gone sister is making a prodigal return to visit my father with her 4 kids, husband, and kids' boyfriends in tow. This is to happen in May. I'm convinced she's only doing it to stake a claim on inheritance money and take what she can grab of my mother's belongings while she can. I did try to broach this with my father and brother, but they don't understand my sister as I do. She's avaricious. I can't say I'm looking forward to the hell that will ensue when my father does "drift into the netherworld," as he says now. He claims his near-death experience was delightful and nothing to fear, like falling into a comforting sleep.

I wish I could sleep. I still can't. I'm racked by worry about work . . . and nothing seems to help. I have no idea whether I will have any teaching work next year . . . and fear I'll have to move far away to even have the opportunity to teach in a board, but maybe even not then. I just don't know what to do.

I'm trying to stay present . . . here with the birds, with my coffee, with a blank page, but it isn't easy. Real spring weather might help make it easier, but maybe that's just me wanting a distraction. Action is harder to think about.

Judy

So, Judy and I are sitting here in the after rain sun, enjoying a quiet evening alone. I was told that Judy was chatty, but friendly and affectionate, a bully, but only with other cats. All I can tell so far, is that she`s a great companion and since we have no other cats, she`ll be quite happy here. Judy is my new foster cat. She is part of my plan to better tolerate my Ottawa life apart from my other half.

After 2 years of driving back and forth across bridges and in intolerable traffic, I have given up. I will visit my husband on weekends. He will visit me here once a week. That will be it, for as long as the kids require us to have them front and centre, which may be . . . for quite some time yet.

I`m resigned. I wish it were different, but it isn`t.

This is second marriage . . .

Crickets

I am sitting in my house with Judy, my foster cat. We are listening to the crickets and relaxing on the couch. The street life flows by just outside the open door. The light is fading, but the air is still warm.

There are so many things I am grateful for. Being here and at peace with myself is one. Having my husband still around, but not all the time, is another. Having my daughter here with me, close to her school, on a schedule I`ve grown used to is a third. My life is quite rich . . . even if I`m not.