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Learning to write (again) (2016-09-06)

It's been so long that I don't know what to write. Typing is still ... challenging. Both cars (the Kia and the w/c van) developed problems last week. Well, I suppose the Kia had problems for a while, but it wasn't until I drove the Kia when the van stopped working that I became aware of the issue. Basically the transmission is in the process of packing it in. The kids knew there was a problem but haven't enough experience to know how bad it was. *sigh* If the transmission is original with no rebuilds it is past time.

The biggest problem is that I don't know what I am doing. The shrink said I talk like someone who is autistic or has Asperger's. It wouldn't surprize me if someone dx'd me with high functioning Asperger's at this point; but what would be the point? And who can tell at this late date what may have been original (as it were) and what was simply from surviving my childhood? She made the comment as part of saying that I say things strongly, make pronouncements; as part of an explanation of why so many people have described me as 'scary.' I am scary because I don't attack people, that's not normal. *sigh* I can't win.

It is true that I have been called 'scary' for the greater part of my life. No one has said it lately, which may simply be because I moved to Israel, where people see things differently. Or because I am recovered enough to be better at blending in, seeming normal. Or any of a number of things - I am not in other people's heads.

I don't tend to look at the world from the perspective of where/how I grew up - a conscious choice. But in the world view of where I came from, I'm scary simply because of who I am and what I represent. I try not to be a part of that, but I can't help if other people still are.

My kids being almost grown, I am free to be more myself. I've been doing some of that, and for the first time in my life I find I'm not entirely sure of who I am. I've been a mom, and putting my kids first for so long...

I still have the youngest, S3, at home and finishing up his preparations for going in the army. So I guess I ease into this new life situation. Married with six kids and four grandkids, I finally have time, and freedom from other responsibilities. Maybe if I could've taken a year or two to figure things out *before* I had all those things I'd be in better shape. But if I hadn't gotten married when I did, had the kids I had, I doubt if I would be here. Things had to happen the way they did because I had nothing to live for, and no reason to fight.

Now, I don't need to fight. More than that, I choose not to fight. Perhaps that means that sometimes I need to get dragged through some things. I am still learning. It's still hard. But I'm getting better at things like just sitting and rocking in my new chair.

The other thing I am practicing getting better at is going barefoot on the bare ground. I used to always go barefoot, in fact I used to say I didn't have callouses on my feet, I had feet on my callouses. Which was an accurate description. So after too much time not walking, and wearing shoes, I am trying to grow some toughness in my feet, at least.

I don't know what, if anything, I can do about the left hand. For now I try to accept that I cannot do all the things I used to do because the body simply didn't allow me to do other things. I can knit, a little. I *can* type, for all it is tiring ad hurts. I can write a little bit, but it doesn't look like the handwriting of a literate person, and it doesn't look like me.

Oh, well. Enough 'cause I need to get some sleep. That's my excuse, anyway.

time || marches || on