It’s worth a nickel

Another day, another book review. I went to the library yesterday and picked up Born on a Blue Day: Inside the Extraordinary Mind of an Autistic Savant, by British author Daniel Tammet.

The memoir was recommended to me by my dear friend Ewan, who mentioned it when I shared with him that I had begun working with someone who had Asperger syndrome, as Tammet himself does. I had struggled to communicate effectively with my colleague, and Ewan thought the book might help.

Sadly, I waited almost a year to read it, but I do feel like it has given me new insight into this remarkable condition on the autism spectrum. It was an easy read; I went through its 226 pages in several hours, and I’m once again looking for my next title.

I really identified with Daniel’s experiences, and found several passages in the book quite moving and emotional. His struggle for his own identity and his feeling of isolation are things I can relate to; the only thing that separates us is a matter of severity or degree. He is also my contemporary; I am just six months older than he is, and I think that made it easier for me to relate to his story. (Oh, my title? Just one more connection: apparently for Daniel, Wednesdays are blue… and I was born on a Wednesday, as was he.)

Net: we could all do a better job of opening up to one another; of communicating more carefully and more effectively; and of recognizing and celebrating the unique talents of others. Bravo, Daniel.

Yesterday Paul and I went down to New Jersey to my aunt’s house for a barbecue in celebration of Independence Day.

My primary motivator for going was to see my grandmother, who was diagnosed with brain cancer in April and has since undergone a six-week course of radiation (5 days a week) and oral chemotherapy every single day. The chemotherapy will continue for the rest of her life.

It was wonderful to see her looking so well, considering the circumstances, but she was having a difficult day.

She wore a hat to cover her thinning hair, which she is losing. She cried several times throughout the day; that’s something I had never seen her do before. When I hugged her hello, she couldn’t let go of me, and so I held her for a couple of minutes until she calmed down.

My grandmother has always been strong, always funny, always loving. You can see her personality is still strong, unchanged … but her body is simply exhausted. It was really hard for me, but I made sure to talk to her and my grandfather just as I always have. I wanted her to know that in my mind, she’s still here with us. She’s still alive.

Some of the super drama queens in my family insist upon emotionally burying people at the first hint of an illness. Despite my own penchant for drama, I won’t be one of them.

I let the living remain among the living, and I do my crying privately. My grandmother and my grandfather don’t need to see it.

It’s so much easier, over the short haul, to lie to yourself.

But it adds up over time and makes your life a living hell.

So being honest with yourself, although difficult in the moment, is a lot more rewarding in the long run.

First, you have to admit it to yourself, whatever “it” is. Then you have to be able to say it out loud, and that makes it so much more real.

I had a fantastic conversation with my therapist this morning, and I was finally able to say “it” out loud.

My biggest fear in life is being alone.

That’s it. The biggest thing. My motivator in all things. And it has damaged (ruined?) relationships for me. It has hurt my career. It has made me, and those around me, suffer. If you’re one of the people I’ve hurt because I’m afraid of being rejected and abandoned, I’m sorry about that.

All because I’m afraid of being alone.

If you’re the type of person who allows yourself to feel rejected or abandoned, you basically spend your life handing out baseball bats to people, and waiting for them to beat you about the head with them.

Maybe time to stop handing out the bats?

Paul teases me sometimes because he says I’m too emotionally involved with the television shows I watch. But he’s just exaggerating … right?

Except for the fact that I get choked up watching old episodes of TLC‘s What Not To Wear when the participants have emotional transformations as they get new wardrobes and hair styles.

That might be a bit over the top.