Why I Have A Fake Tree

I think you can clearly see that the tree I have is not a “real” Christmas tree. I mean, you need flocking or snow to put white on a real one, right? It’s not a big thing as to what a person puts in their house around this time of year. Unfortunately, some people make it a big thing. There is apparently a feud I am not aware of going on.

First, in order to understand the feud, we have to define “real.” I mean, my tree exists in the dimensions of time and space. That’s not a hologram blocking my patio door.

But apparently, for a tree to be “real,” some insist that it has to have been growing in the ground at some point. I guess that’s fair.

Now, why is there a feud in this? There’s usually a good reason a person has either a real tree or a fake tree.

Honestly, I would prefer a real tree….

…but I’m allergic to real ones. I break out in hives while putting on the ornaments. It’s been that way since childhood.

Now that you know why I have this particular tree, why don’t we look at the reasons people are feuding, and why none of them really hold water in the sense of a feud.

The first one is, environmentalism. Apparently, having the tree I have is an environmental hazard, unless you keep it for some years. If you look back on Christmas decorations past, you will see that I have had this tree through what is now three decorating phases. I have had this tree since I decorated Christmas in purple, decorated Christmas in gold and silver, and decorated Christmas now in red, gold and silver. It’s been at least five years. Having a tree you can keep instead of throw away is very nice, as far as I am concerned.

Another one is the smell of pine needles and such. Unfortunately, some people are also allergic to this, including my mother. We don’t even change our air freshener scent for the season – where we have an air freshener.

There are more reasons, and I’m sure you can look these up.

However, I am not going to insist I feud with other people about Christmas trees. There are bigger things to be offended by. Poverty and racism, for example.

Usually, there is a really good reason behind a person’s choices. I have stated mine.

The best question, when you don’t understand the choice a person makes is this:

Why?

What is Inspiring? Nov. 1, 2019

I need inspiration. 

Wow, this is a familiar place. Here we are, back at the old familiar place of no inspiration. How to get out of here…how to get out of here….  

Well, here’s a place I don’t get inspiration. I don’t get inspiration from my fellow disabled people.  

The dictionary defines inspiration as: the process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially to do something creative.” Well, how is looking at disabled people going to stimulate me to write, for instance? It hasn’t in the past.  

And on that note, people say, “You’re so inspiring! You’re so brave!” 

I think what they mean is: “I would not be able to live if I were like you.” 

As far as I’m concerned, being autistic, that means one of two things: 

  1. You’re weak. 
  1. Living as an autistic does not require as much “bravery” as you think it does. And you’re the one who actually makes it require bravery. 

Neither of these things feels too good, right? 

Why Autistic Adults Hate Blue Buckets

It started here in Kentucky early. Once the Halloween merchandise came out, there they were, in an aisle display: blue buckets. I was not impressed. I’m a member of the pillowcase club, first of all. Second, they are apparently associated with identifying autistic children and adolescents (who still trick or treat). Why do we need a small blue bucket on Halloween anyway?

Number one: a pillowcase is better, in that it holds more candy. I will say it before, and say it again. You have to work hard to beat something that can hold a lot of candy and be used beyond Halloween (on your pillows). It was only this October that I finally saw something that may be able to beat that practicality: a reusable grocery bag. Maybe it can beat the pillowcase simply due to handles. I don’t know.

Number two: Blue pumpkins can easily be associated with Autism Speaks. (I will say the name to reduce its fear and influence.) Now, this may be hard to comprehend, but we autistic people do NOT wish to be just like you. Autism is what we know. Besides, Autism Speaks wants to get rid of autistic people by “curing.” Most of us see curing autism in the same vein most people see something like, I don’t know, Invasion of the Body Snatchers. We see a lot of prejudice against us drummed up by that organization, in the name of so-called charity. Sure, they change the language, but they also promote anti-vaccine culture.

Number three: Do we really need to single out people on Halloween? Think about it: Most children and many adults are dressed as something out of their ordinary. Do we need to make the children feel alienated on all days of the year? To an autistic person, the blue puzzle piece and the blue bucket has a purpose similar to the yellow stars the Nazis made Jews wear in their day. Also, if a child is scared to go somewhere for any reason, there is no need to force them to go to the door of some house. You would not do that to a neurotypical child, would you?

The bottom line is: We know we are different. Stop using blue things to throw it in our faces.

It Doesn’t Have to End This Way

I heard in the news today that a Korean pop singer was found dead in her home. Suicide is suspected. I’m going to give the benefit of the doubt, but if it is true, I will be truly sad. It is another one in a long line of celebrity suicides. Clearly, celebrity is not a cure for depression.
Celebrity aside, I wish I could give a message to those who died this way. The message is a simple truth:
It doesn’t have to end this way.
Whether you know it or not, there are people who want you here. Nobody may make it absolutely clear to you, but it is clear to them. Leaving the planet this way is NOT a favor to your friends and family.
But people do not seem to get the message. People are still dying by suicide.
How do we get this message to the invisible sick and dying?
I wonder if we need to reach out to them as much as we beg them to reach out to us? I know personally that reaching out is hard when you suffer with depression. My brain was lying to me that nobody would care whether I reached out or not. It’s easy to believe what comes from your own brain.
Maybe we need to remind people that they are important to us. I currently feel I am not important to anybody but my mother and my dog.
But I fight, simply for this one reason:
It does not have to end in suicide.

A Word on Beach Bodies

All you have to do to get a Beach Body in three steps:

  1. Get a body.
  2. Put swimwear (that fits!!!) on it.
  3. Put sunscreen on it.
  4. Take this body to the beach. (Pool, lake, etc.)

Allow me to present an example:

A Beach Body

I named this suit the Marilyn, because that’s how sexy it makes me feel.

I recently came to this conclusion after learning that nobody is really looking at and judging your body as hard as they are looking at and judging their own. And if they are, you probably don’t need their company anyway.

Gudetama and Eeyore

I’ve recently gained a new special interest. This little egg with crippling depression is the cutest thing I have seen in a long time. It’s a little yellow yolk who does not want to leave its white, or shell for that matter. (It’s probably too peopley out there.) Now, where have I seen a lovable character with symptoms of depression before? 

“Thanks for noticing me.” 

Oh, yeah. Now I see it! It’s a cute little Eeyore! That wonderful little donkey plush from Winnie the Pooh adventures. He kind of balances out all the craziness, and sees beauty in calm, serene and quiet times. The lovable donkey who has similar traits to little Gudetama! I bet they would be great friends, if they met.  

******* 

The thing about Gudetama and Eeyore is this: they do not need to be a little happy thing to be cute. They’re even cute with their lack of energy. They are accepted as they are. And they are cute as they are.  

Is This Burnout?

I don’t know what’s happening to me lately. I’ve been having writer’s block much more often, and for longer periods of time. I mean, how many times can you write about the same topics – measles outbreaks blamed on your existence, autism hate and discrimination, etc. – over and over? I mean, I wish I could have access to Game of Thrones and complain about the ending episodes like everybody else on the internet, but I can’t afford HBO right now. My cable bill is up to $200 without it already. Besides, do you want me to sound like a neurotypical describing autism and getting it wrong, like they usually do? Anyway, I did watch the series finale of The Big Bang Theory, even with the pseudo-autistic Sheldon. It was alright. Somebody finally explained to the pseudo-autistic what a jerk he has been to them. You can be autistic and still be kind, you know. Maybe I can complain about pop culture a bit, but even that seems like a strain to me.  

Perhaps it is a lack of inspiration? 

Perhaps this is burnout.  

Ugh, I feel like Gudetama right now.