The Face

I think I have found THE THING.

A couple weeks ago I spoke with my psychic counselor regarding feeling as if there was this THING that I was supposed to be figuring out, but I could not figure out what THE THING was.  I could only sense that it was there and that I was dancing all around it.

About that time I stopped my hyper-focused pagan study, I stopped obsessively checking the various online communities I was a part of, and I even pulled the plug on an empowerment spell of those online entities.

Something was telling me, “No.  Those are not where you will get your power.  You must see where your own power is coming from first.  You must know you.”

I began shortly after cutting away all the side things that were distracting me from remembering (and further discovering) who the hell I was.  This certainly included but was not limited to online community and study.  It, very literally, was setting explosives all around this wall-face I had made for myself and lighting them.

As the wall-face blew off and the real me that had been squeezed behind it for a decade or more came out, I started seeing very fully why I had built it in the first place.  It wasn’t entirely a defense mechanism like a lot of people’s walls are; it was the robot-me I’d built to interface properly with the world.

After doing some research, I am very sure that I fall into the autistic spectrum.  I’ve suspected it for years – hell, my parents suspected it when I was a child, but because I was more or less functional beyond being a little “weird” they never had me diagnosed.

Robot-me with the thick metal walls was necessary for a time.  It was necessary so that I could grow up, so that I could find a job, so that I could function well enough to make those friends (including a very supportive partner) who have been patient enough to deal with my quirks, and so that I could learn to process out those things that do interest me.

But robot-me couldn’t deal with a harsh side-effect which struck after years of its existence: depression.  To keep up the façade meant to live with depression almost constantly.

Until I blew all that shit up.

When it blew up, I really thought at first that it would cure my social awkwardness, that I would be like a new person, a “real” person.  But what it showed me was that I already am a real person, I just happen to be a kind of different real person.

At first it seems like an unhelpful realization.  Okay, so I’m on the autistic spectrum.  That doesn’t really change anything.

Except it really does.  It shows me that the ways I’m different aren’t something I need to feel are inherently wrong with me, and that makes me feel empowered.  It also makes me much more proud of the strengths I do have, many of which are characteristic to those with ASD (examples: hyper-focus on a project so long as it’s interesting to me, excruciating attention to detail, nearly-OCD organization both for items and numbers or words such as schedules and lists, strict adherence to a specific set of rules as well as a routine).

It can further change how I approach everything in my life, and when I feel like I can’t do something, I can step back and find what about it is making it so hard for me.  Being able to identify those factors can lead to ways to work around them.  Environmental issues  that are particularly problematic for me, such as sound over-stimulation, may have alternatives as well.

I’m pretty sure this is THE THING, or at least a necessary gateway to uncovering THE THING.  I feel like someone’s finally stuck that sewing needle and thread right through my core and pulled all the pieces tight together.

Before I start saying this in more formal spaces, I have a lot of research to do.  I also want to see if my health insurance will at least partially cover an assessment.  If they won’t, the assessments can be really expensive, so research will be my best friend for self-diagnosis until I can get the money or find another means.

This probably seems like a weird topic for this blog, but it isn’t.  THE THING has been hindering my ability to move forward for a very long time, especially in my pagan and magic studies.  I found that magic never worked for me as it seemed it should, and while that’s certainly just one of those things that happens when you deal with magic and possibly deities and spirits, it has also proven to me that understanding myself is extremely important.  In my personal magic theory, the body is a conduit for magic energy and the mind is its director.  If you do not know what’s going on in your body and mind, then that energy isn’t going to work quite as you planned if it works at all.

This also ties back to my post last week, “The Importance of the Unimportant”.  In it I talked about why it is necessary to know yourself and to be happy with who you are and the things you love to be able to work with gods.  It’s like my favorite quote from my favorite book, Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis:

“I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer.  Till the word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean?  How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?”

The gods can help you find your true face, but often it’s going to require a level of sacrifice and realization on your part as well.  I hope this is bringing me a few steps closer to that.

 

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