Autism-Adjacent, part One


I believe I’ve made a few references to my mental health battles here. Maybe not much specifically, but little hints here and there. Some might have assumed these were jokes but I assure you, they’re not. 🙂 With that in mind, I figure I might want to actually explain what that journey has entailed.

I can’t believe I made it this far into my life without therapy, honestly. The first time I saw my primary care doctor, which is going on 6 or 7 years now, she immediately had the nurse drag in the EKG chart and hook me up; my heart was racing that badly. Panic attack? Likely, only I didn’t know what that was. I mean, how do you explain what that feels like to someone who has never had one? They’re all so individual or at least can be. I now know that one of my reactions is a throbbing in my lower back, and sometimes the entire world turns yellow. No one’s ever said anything about panic attacks like that to me.

I thought it was a heart attack. Kinda glad it was “only” a panic attack.

One of the many traumas in my life that I’ve had to deal with is one I’m sure many, many women will relate to. Horrible doctors that minimally don’t listen and maximally berate you, or worse. I hadn’t had a decent doctor who listened in ages at this point, aside from the doctor at that practice who had moved on and abandoned me, and I’d only seen him for about 2 years.

Needless to say, when my PCP got the test results from the EKG and I broke down in tears, she sat down to talk to me. I bawled and explained that I felt like I had some sort of medical PTSD. When I first attempted to get my neuropathy diagnosed (I was pretty sure by this point I knew what it was), the first doctor didn’t even look at my feet or send me to a specialist or anything but write me a couple of prescriptions. The second doctor had told me there was a 40% chance we’d never know what was wrong with my feet, but when I asked about a specialist, she said there wasn’t any need for that.

Right.

But finally, I found a doctor (female, of course) who was listening to me. Not only did she write me my first prescription for anxiety medication, and send me to a therapist, but she also sent me immediately to someone when I complained of menstrual issues. The absolutely WONDERFUL (female) doctor I saw for that caught the endometrial cancer and sent me to a WONDERFUL gynecological oncologist who got me in for surgery 5 days after I saw her with the diagnosis. 5 years later, I’m still clean, and I hope to stay that way.

Long way around, I’m sure, but that’s the background for how I finally got help.

As you can see, and probably know, or at least likely can understand, some of my issues were caused by direct circumstances. Attending what should have been a fairly normal, mainstream church during a particularly fervent Charismatic Movement messed me up, sure. But when combined with an authoritarian father who was really a Baptist in Episcopalian clothes and my innate need for his approval, well, it did double damage. They either refer to that as religious trauma or sometimes religious PTSD. I’ve got issues, like many people, because of bullying throughout my public-school career. Anxiety, just a touch of OCD, social anxiety to the point of avoidant personality disorder, and a little privacy issue. Just a little. Yeah, there’s event-based damage that I can track back, and have traced some of it.

But then, there seem to be issues that were just always there. I wrote on the wall inside my mom’s closet “why doesn’t anyone love me” when I was six. I remember getting stomachaches and not wanting to go to school in kindergarten. I used to hide in my closet to be alone, to the point my parents would freak out and start looking for me. Something was going on genetically, I assumed.

After a false start with a therapist who sucked, at least for me, I ended up with the person I see now who is phenomenal. Perfect for me. Grew up in the same town as I did, even knew some of the same people although she’s a few years older. Her sister was a Wiccan and into ghost hunting, so she knows what I’m talking about in the largest and most important parts of my life. Also, that same sister who unfortunately departed the mortal plane too soon, was trans. She gets my life, my point-of view. I don’t worry about judgment. Phew.

So, the time came when I had a question to ask her. I’d been on TikTok (bad idea, btw), and seen many, many, many people discussing being autistic. I’d picked up a lot, but at the same time many of those people were self-diagnosed. No judgment there, because I understand how hard it is for most people to get therapy and treatment for their mental health. Self-diagnosis is often all they’ve got.

At the same time, I wasn’t sure then, how accurate they were. I had so many “symptoms” that were similar to autism. SO FREAKING MANY!!! Hyperfixations, anyone? I’ve got my share and then some. I’ve been studying cults and religion since grade school. If you want a good genealogist, find someone with a hyperfixation, you won’t regret it. I am amazing at research. If I want to know something, I will not stop until I do. All the food I hate is because of the texture. I will not wear polyester, and you can’t make me. The feel of that is just…slimy…I’m cringing even thinking about it. And of course, there’s more.

When I brought that up to my therapist she smiled broadly, which did worry me slightly, I’ll admit. But she said, “you’re ready for your diagnosis.”

OMG, I’m over 1000 words already! Since attention spans are so small these days, I guess I’ll have to put the rest in a part two. See you there!

Open Acts of Rebellion


Yes, that’s right, I’m dipping my toe back into politics again. The times being as they are, I’m particularly angry at the patriarchy. Well, more than normal. More than before the elections. Gee, I wonder why. (Obvious sarcasm is obvious) So this is a warning that if politics aren’t your thing, you might not want to stick around. Also, this post will most definitely appeal more to women, both cis and trans, and some of our fluid friends, and less-so to those concretely cis or trans male. There will also be mentions, likely brief, of my own mental health journey. You have been warned! 

I’m pretty sure that I’ve mentioned, a few times, that I have some neurodivergence issues as well as anxiety and a whole mess of other fun stuff running around in my head. Some of it was a result of bullying and, well, parental issues. Most people can relate to all that, I’m sure. One of the side-effects was an absolutely abysmal self-esteem.

When I say abysmal, I mean I told my therapist I hate my face, and I meant it.

I’ve learned a bit about my dysfunctions now, and I’ve taken some steps to work on it. As progress came around and I stopped hating my face and moved into at least tolerating it, I started thinking about cosmetics.

There were a few other coincidental things that happened at the same time, like the mention of different influencers by someone I was already watching. Coincidence or divine intervention? Probably both, given my life.

You might have noticed, also, that a whole mess of people, mostly identifying as women, have been sporting bright red lipstick. When I looked into it, I found the rumor? Urban myth? That Hitler hated red lipstick and so it was considered patriotic during the WWII era.

AOC is one of the most well-known women with red lips these days aside from Taylor Swift. I’d have added her picture, but I don’t want to get sued!

Now, I can see that as a definite possibility as to why it’s popular now. But honestly, it’s a lot more complicated than that. Most things are, aren’t they?

So, as it turns out, nope. Hitler didn’t actually care about red lipstick in particular That was, and is, a myth.

However, its complicated, amirite? First off, red lipstick was one of the first lipsticks ever created. The Egyptians rocked it, for Pete’s sake.

As far as the “Western” (aka “white”) world goes, lipstick was “created” (because everything we ever do is new) so the man’s lips could be seen in all that hair when beards were all the rage. And because the male ego is so fragile in our patriarchy, they stopped using it as soon as women did, just like high heels and the color pink. Wimps.

Women have been fighting the patriarchy about makeup ever since. It was considered very naughty, like wearing pants, drinking, and smoking. We weren’t supposed to do it. Good girls didn’t. Like we weren’t supposed to have jobs, vote, or think. Let’s face it, that idea has survived through centuries now. Hell, I remember calling red lipstick “FMR” when I was in high school; “f*ck me red.” Good girls didn’t.

Thankfully, some of us didn’t listen.

During the suffragist movements of the early 1900s, red lipstick came out as a power move, a method of rebellion, of not taking the direction of men anymore. As far as “Christian western” civilization goes, that was the beginning.

If you’re thing is history and makeup, this channel is the BOMB. (Did I just date myself? Probably. *shrug*)

As Erin says in the video above, Hitler didn’t care. It cracks me up that Ava Braun had a tube of “Montezuma Red” on her dressing table, because the truth of WWII is that red lipstick was used against women. It was less about being patriotic or fighting Fascism, and more about being beautiful to maintain the men’s morale. Eye candy. Great. That kind of takes the entire point of the power of red lipstick away.

But let’s take another look at history, and culture right here. As much as Hitler didn’t hate red lipstick, it wasn’t encouraged for the most part. Women aside from those close to positions of power, were wearing the “natural look.” Women who wore makeup were considered cheap or tacky or, heaven forbid, “whores.” Sound familiar? Yeah, I’ve heard the same BS coming out of the mouths of MAGA members and incel trolls on the internet. It’s come around again. Watch a few tutorials or walk around a cosmetics counter or aisle. Neutral, neutral, neutral. BORING and neutral has been the theme as of late.

If I ever see another neutral palette, I will not be responsible for my actions.

Also on the Internet, we have such a selection of Trad Wives to follow. Good girls, at home, baking bread and caring for their 15 million children. Straight out of Handmaid’s Tale, I swear. How are they dressed? No pants for the most part, neat, tidy, conservative, with no cleavage at all showing, and barely a shoulder or knee to be seen. Just like the Hitler Women.

The truth is that cults always control what is worn by its members. FLDS and their prairie dresses, Hare Krishnas with their saffron robes, Scientology with their imitation naval uniforms are all fine examples of wardrobe control in action. There are thousands more from more mainstream cults like Mormons all the way up to the far out of reality ones like Heaven’s Gate. Sometimes it’s a law and enforced, sometimes it’s a culture that’s readily adapted and accepted, but it’s almost always there.

It’s one of the ways those in power force us to walk in step.

And so, here is my decision. It’s not just about lipstick. It’s not just about red lipstick. It’s about creativity and freedom of expression. I don’t care which fashion you choose; it could be punk, goth, hippy, raver, disco, or alien. Rock that look; rock it hard. Rock it everywhere. Be a diva. Be YOURSELF.

It’s an open act of rebellion that we can all participate in. Yes, men are invited as well, because let’s face it, they’re not “supposed” to. Ha. Let’s show them they can’t break us.

The irony is that I finally found my “perfect” shade of red and decided I just can’t do it that often. My hair is blue, and I am waaaaay too fair skinned not to look like a flag. sigh

That’s okay though, I have some groovy shades of blue, purple, silver, gold, and even green now…🤣🤣🤣