Dear Trae, I Guess I Was That Predictable.

One of the things that has hit me most about my recent autism diagnosis is the mention of rigidity. The one thing people on the spectrum really tend to be is rigid in routine, in the way they structure their lives. I guess until I started running into those obstacles in mid-2006, I really was fixed in some behaviors.

Thinking back on it now, I can see when the patterns emerged, and under what circumstances.

For instance, I started building what would become a huge model airplane collection not in 1977, when Craig and I were engaged in a sort of arms race, but in early 1978, when I was alone and the model airplanes were the only thing left to remind me of my friendship and good times with my best friend. So, during the spring time, I tend to drift towards model airplanes. Many months later, I felt as if I'd outgrown the need to build so many (I was literally out of shelf space). It was early October, 1978, and the weather was turning cooler. We were at Mayport Naval Base. There was a bit of a northeaster underway, but just outside the Commissary, a community yard sale was underway. It was there that I found a Heller model of the Niña, a very nice kit. My attention turned not just to model ships, but to sailing ships. Thus, in the fall, I mess about with maritime history. The following spring, some of my friends and I started building and launching model rockets. So, when summer would arrive, I would do rockets.

You see the pattern forming right there. Oh, certainly, there were times when there would be variations, but for the most part, I was set; Spring was for model airplanes, summer was for model rockets, fall was for maritime history, and winter? Well, that was for reading.

As I became an adult, the pattern was disrupted somewhat by my first marriage. She didn't like model airplanes, preferring instead that I mess about with model railroading, which is really a very expensive hobby. I had fun with that, yes, but those older established habits persisted, and caused problems. Except for the ships; I was fortunate to embrace them for most of the first half of the 1990's, as a way to keep my sanity.

The pattern was broken at that time.

Remember, for a while, I was involved in space activism. My interest in space was pretty much year round, and when the opportunity arose to get involved, I jumped. My other interests were now just "hobbies" whilst the space activism (and astronomy) became my vocation.

When things started falling apart, however, the old hobbies would resume. They were a comfort to me. At least until the past couple of years.

When I finally ran headlong into that wall in July, 2012, the patterns finally shattered, and I stopped caring about anything. Nothing mattered. Nothing. I wanted to die most days, disappear others, dissolve oftentimes. I never thought about suicide directly, as I could never hurt my parents that way again.

But I didn't want to exist.

It took months for me to have an interest in anything. When they did return, it was my astronomy, not just my hobby but my former job. I started doing little experiments, trying to improve observation techniques and things like that. I wrote about them, kept records. It was all I had left. It was the only thing that I derived strength from. Those other interests of mine seemed alien, as if they were done by someone else. Yes, I missed them, but for some reason, couldn't really enjoy them.

Of course, by that time, I couldn't enjoy a damned thing.

I just needed to feel... useful? With purpose?

Maybe?

-

I'm not as lost as I have been, but there are times I feel as if I am orbiting the event horizon of oblivion. In my heart is an ache for those old hobbies of mine, but I can't. I just can't. The solar astronomy is the only thing I look forward to, and I have made a little job out of it. Beyond that, I just want to sleep all the time. Between all the physical pains in my hip, shoulders, and head, and the pain I feel in my psyche, all I feel I have energy for is sleep.

This is hell, honey.

-

But I don't want to bring you down. You've been through so much already, and I care immensely for you and what happens to you. I guess today I just needed a sounding board. If this brings you down, I'm sorry. At least I have a counseling appointment this afternoon, maybe I'll feel better (he's a heck of a good guy).

Take care, and I'll try to be positive later.

Yours Always,

Corbie