New Year, new look blog, new ideas and some sense of purpose in posting. Yippee! Something that has been playing in my mind for a while relates to one of the concepts mentioned in theTen Traits of Asperger's (women, girls) which I mention from time to time. The one about not fitting in, not feeling as though one belongs on this planet...
teenager and young woman, I frequently fantasized about aliens landing
and taking me into their spaceship. There, rather than do horrendous
experiments or try to inseminate me, they would actually improve me.
Using my genetic code as the basis for some lovely sciency rebuilding
from a cellular level, they would take all my bits and improve them to
the best they could be, according to my chromosomes. I was big on
genetic inheritance! So, banished would be the asthma and allergies,
which came from my father and instead I might have my mum's stoicism and
physical constitution. It was a fervent wish and a frequent fantasy.
in my fifties, with diagnosed Multiple Sclerosis, managed hypertension
and flat feet, some of that has come true: I don't get asthma any more!
Hours of my life were spent in mental anguish; alone in my bedroom
because I had no idea whatsoever of how to go out and be more sociable
or how to get hold of that elusive but expected accessory, a boyfriend.
At School I was not really a 'loner', but asthma excluded me from many
sports, which in turn meant exclusion from the groups of 'fit and
popular' types; while interest led me to a small group who were rather
nerdy and insular. They didn't do well with boys at first, then improved
as I continued to lag behind. If those aliens could have mended me,
perhaps I wouldn't have been so lonely for so long?
didn't fit in. It's too easy to say that all teenagers are disaffected,
or spend time being lonely and confused, of course they do, it's part of
normal development. Looking back though, it was all of those years. It
varied, there were some social occasions, but so few I can still recount
them in detail. Some relief was finding said nerdy friends wanting to
go the the local weekly folk club, when we were all seventeen. That was
fun, we all passed for eighteen easily, so drank pints of mild ale and
sang along to hairy folk bands. Apart from that though? I was no party
animal. Clearly alien myself, I needed rescuing!
Standing in the
garden at night, looking up at the stars, I would send out my heartfelt
wishes in telepathic form - sometimes even empathic, once I knew that
word - in the hope that an advanced society on the wing, scooting across
the cosmos, would alight and immediately 'know' me as friend. Then,
without pain or making me forget what happened, they would transport me
into their craft and use sundry molecular machinery in my remaking. It
was a lovely fantasy. Sometimes even now, I wonder if those evolved and
lovely beings are about somewhere, taking notes of all the requests from
disaffected teens, or Aspie women around the globe. Wouldn't it be nice
if they decided to drop by? I bet they'd like cake...!