Rant

I shouldn’t have to write an essay defending a piece of fictional writing or a random poem that popped into my head, but with two controlling men, who specialise in being mentally abusive towards me and my creative outlets, while on my five mile walk to work this morning, it occurred to me that I have to defend myself in order to prevent your mentally abusive comments, text messages, phone calls and/or signing me up to humour writing courses.

Alternatively, why don’t you both grow up and leave me alone. I know you are both still there, despite my attempts to make you go away. I do not stalk your social media or your personal lives, so stay away from my corner of the internet. Unless you are going to be nice, leave me alone.

My ‘Thirteen Miles’ poem, that I wrote yesterday, is part of my Peter and Jane story series. It is not directly linked to you. I am allowed to fictionalise parts of my life, in order to help tell a creative narrative. Yes, I was influenced by you, however, this does not mean that I am crying every day because I miss you, nor am I desperately trying to get your attention or to win you back. It is simply a creative writing piece that I had a lot of fun writing.

Nor does the reference mean that I was upset because you moved away. You never seemed to get it into your head that I was happy for you and proud of you for buying your own place. You said that you needed somewhere with enough space so that you could have a home office, as you work remotely. Now you have that.

I could not cope with your communication, or lack thereof. No one is ever, “too busy,” especially for their partner. You just placed me so low down on your priority list that I was just a thing that was supposed to sit around twiddling my thumbs, waiting for you. When you are in a relationship, you cannot make life changing decisions without including your partner, because said life changing decisions affect them too – often more so than you.

In a relationship it is crucial to communicate. When you live together, you do not need to physically message each other often, as written text only contributes to 10% of your intention. When you live together there are your actions, your posture, your tone of voice, just your presence can indicate how you are feeling. However, you cannot have the no written communication part of a relationship if you do not physically see one another. Your parents, siblings, friends don’t need to check in on their partner via text message or emails, because they live together or see each other every day. When you do not have that, written communication daily is crucial.

Putting in effort is just as important. Sending a few words saying, “I thought I sent it. Have a good day,” show that you are not emotionally invested. If you do not care how your partner is, can hang up mid conversation after telling your partner how you are then saying, “So how was your day?” then instantly hang up, when a better offer can along and leave your partner waiting for you to not be, “too busy,” anymore to call them back, only for them to reach out and you say, “I’m good. Playing a games with friends,” and you do not care if your partner has no idea if you are okay, then that is not a relationship. If you put in 20% communication effort and your partner has to put in 180% communication effort in order for you to be bothered to message them at all, that is not a relationship. If your partner feels so mentally and emotionally exhausted that they start mirroring your texting style and putting in the exact same amount of effort that you do, you say, “There’s no point in texting you. We only say the same few words,” then you are not in a relationship.

Relationships are hard work. They take effort, from both parties. It is not a single sided thing, while one person cries constantly every single day, waiting for you to remember that they exist and show them five seconds of your time. And when you say you are too busy to show the person who is supposed to be your number one priority five seconds of your day, that is not a relationship.

A relationship is not, “Winning you over,” and then putting in zero effort after three months, because you have a girlfriend. If anything, the first three months are the easiest bit, then you have to try harder after that.

We were never really together after three months. It was a real relationship to begin with. Normally, people grow to that point of a relationship within three to six months of getting to know one another, but from the first date, you acted like the exact person that I wanted to be in a serious, long term, forever relationship with. You wanted something serious. You wanted commitment. You could communicate properly. You wanted to settle down and be together. You wanted to live together and get married. Those are the things that you need to know if you are compatible with. And we were. You wanted all of the same things I wanted. And you wanted them soon – okay, so maybe I was a little scared that you wanted it too soon, but I have known people who got engaged after two weeks and lived happily every after. But after three months, this all went away. You weren’t that persona anymore. You didn’t want those things anymore – any of them. You turned out to be my shortest relationship. You changed the most the quickest. You lost interest the quickest. You stopped communicating the quickest.

 

We were a relationship for three months. After that, it was a situationship. The fourth month was hard, the fifth month was harder. It was the end of the fifth month that you broke my trust so much that I deleted and blocked you online and never undeleted or unblocked you. Christmas was painful. Poor communication on my hardest day of the year, mixed with being forgotten and not remembered until it was too late and I was already a crying mess was too much. Then, from the 2^nd January, I have never felt more lonely and unwanted in a relationship. It is less lonely being alone. It is less painful being alone. Having a doctor tell me, in February, that my partner is mentally abusive hurt. I didn’t believe him. I refused to. I made so many excuses for you. I wanted it to work so much. I wanted the old you to be real so much. I believed that if I just held on long enough that he would come back. And one day he did. You proved that you could do it. You wanted a relationship. You communicated with me. You messaged me just like you used to. Then the next day, you took it all away from me. You left me with absolutely nothing. That is what broke me. The next day, when the Sales Director said morning to me, I burst into tears. He could say morning to me, but my own partner couldn’t. I couldn’t keep living like this. I had already done this in a past situationship. I could not have you controlling my emotional wellbeing, making me so anxious that I couldn’t speak to anyone. Situationships are mentally abusive. That type of love bombing and withdrawing is mentally abusive. That is not a relationship. That is not the way that a loving, caring partner should communicate.

I was never asking for much. Just the basic communication for a healthy relationship. I wasn’t asking for money to spent on me, gifts all the time, to go on holiday, to go places, or even to see you daily. I wasn’t asking to take you away from your friends or family. I was just asking for the minimum communication for a healthy relationship, and to not be treated like a situationship.

I have never felt more alone and worthless than with you. I was so low down on your priority list that for two weeks, I didn’t even hear from you, aside from your two copy/paste text messages. As soon as you moved away, you were a completely different person. And do not use the excuse that you were buying a property. When I bought my maisonette, I had so much free time that I wrote a 60,000-word novel and walked 32 miles every Saturday, while working full time and visiting the elderly lady, in her 90s, that lived around the corner most Sundays.

Once you moved away, you stopped sharing your day with me. You stopped checking in. You stopped wanting to know if I was okay. Your promise if seeing each other every other weekend never materialised. You only wanted to phone me when it was convenient for you. You were against planning a phone call to look forward to together for a specific day/time. You wanted me to drop everything whenever you happened to have a spare few moments free. When I suggested organising/scheduling a day and time that works for both of us, you said I was being controlling. When I asked to hear from you, you said I was being controlling. When I wanted the person back, who was the man I fell in love with, who wanted the same things in life that I did, you said I was being delusional, living in a fairytale and trying to control your life. I wasn’t trying to do any of those things. It is not controlling to want a neutral, agreed time to phone each other, so that neither of us have to stop what we are doing. It is not controlling to want the exact same relationship dynamic that you gave me, when we first met. It is not controlling to point out when you are doing something mentally abusive, controlling, immature or something very hurtful and to ask you to be more mindful next time. I spelt it out to you, multiple times, exactly what I needed from you and each time you said, “I don’t know what to do.” If you don’t know how to text me good morning, let me know that you are okay, tell me a little about your day and text me good night, then I can’t help you any further. I wanted to be more than just some girl on the sidelines of your life, who you said, “Yeah, I have a girlfriend, look,” to, to make you feel big, or accomplished or whatever ego boost you got from it. I wanted to be your loving, lifelong partner, who you share your life with – not who you push away and do everything independently from and am expected to just turn up and be your unpaid prostitute and escort.

When I did meet up with you, after close to zero communication from you for six weeks, it was a struggle, because you were a completely different person. You became a different person when you moved away. You didn’t like the same things anymore. You weren’t interested in the same hobbies. When I met up with you, you got rid of the things that you told me you weren’t getting rid of, because they were part of your personality. You spoke differently. You acted differently. Your personality was different. Every single thing, person, object, information that you interact with every day changes you. You might want to see a new film, hate a genre of music that you used to like, have a very strong opinion about a new political event. A person with my type of autism notices the changes in a person more than most people do. You were not the same person, when we met up. When you said, “Why was it so awkward?” it was because you were a complete stranger to me. It was like meeting you for the first time. You no longer had the same relationship ideologies, you no longer had the same hobbies, you looked different, you acted different, you sounded different. We were two strangers meeting for the first time, on an eight month anniversary day date.

You dismissing my wants and beliefs, as, “You shouldn’t care what everyone else thinks,” when living with my partner and getting married one day is not what me caring about what everyone else thinks. It is what I want. It is what you said that you wanted. It was our future that you had painted in my head. It was what you made me believe that we were working towards together. I was not being delusional or living in a fairytale for believing you, when you said that you wanted that. When you took my life, my future, away from me, it hurt a lot. It was scary. Very scary. Everything that I knew had changed. But most importantly and scarily, the person that I loved had changed. We no longer wanted the same things, and you saying that I shouldn’t want them anymore, because you didn’t care about that sort of thing hurt more than breaking up with you did. You dismissing my wants, beliefs and ideologies and comparing not living together with your partner to not being able to go to a restaurant was beyond hurtful. And you are the delusional one if you think those two things are remotely similar.

My autism is not the same as his. I found a whole community of people, around my age, who have the exact same struggles that I do. They are not intelligent at maths, struggle with understanding emotions or whatever else the stereotypical Asperger’s diagnosis is. Autism is a spectrum, like a rainbow. If he is red, then I am the polar opposite, at purple. I have a relatively basic IQ at 136. I am not an expert at Maths. I have high attention to detail. I have very strong emotions. I need structure, stability and a plan. If plans change, I cannot cope – that is not me being difficult. That is what everyone who has the same type of autism that I have si like. If you say you are going to be there at 5pm and then you are not, I cannot follow through with the plans that we had for tomorrow, because you are not here now, when you said that you would be. It doesn’t matter that you will travel over in the morning. I cannot do what we were supposed to do, because you said that you were going to be there. I cannot cope with loud noises or busy places with too many people. You like going to restaurants. Well, there is the sound of the traffic outside, footsteps, cutlery, people talking, every single conversation in the entire building, music playing, food being prepared out the back, I can’t understand what someone says when they are a new voice to me, let alone having all of the other conversations playing at once, there is crockery moving, drinks being prepared. Every single sound, movement, light is like a new tab being open o Excel, or a new app being open on your phone. The more things you open, the less RAM you have remaining. The louder the noise, it is like an app is flashing constantly for your attention. The more frequently I do these things, it doesn’t get any easier. It isn’t like learning to ride a bike. Each time is just as uncomfortable and hard to cope with as the last.  No matter how many times you take me to a restaurant, I will always struggle. I will always have to pretend and fake being happy, that I am enjoying myself. I will always hate it. I am happy to try, and I have tried. Suggesting going during a quiet time and not the busiest time on a weekend didn’t fall well, but if you want me to do something that will always be overwhelming and hard, I will try. I did try. When I said that I wanted to go to the new Italian restaurant near me that served tapas style dishes with you for my birthday, and I found out the exact day and time, from the restaurant when they were least busy, you pretended that you didn’t hear me and started talking about something else.

And I have to write all of this just because I wanted to write a fun little poem.

This doesn’t mean I hate you. I don’t. This doesn’t mean I want you back. Situationships are toxic. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to be a part of your life. I know that you had someone else in mind, and I hope that whoever you were talking about when you said, “We need to decide our movie posters,” makes you far happier than I ever could. Yes, I still hold onto that little bit of hope that you might want a real relationship and with me, like the old you did, but I’m not delusional. You deserve to be happy, and that is the most important thing. I still love you and care about you, but the old you, who I fell in love with. If he still exists, and if he still wants all of the things that he said that he wanted over a year ago, then that is wonderful. But I am not holding onto that. If you are the same person that you had become, back in April, who does not want to communicate, has no time for a partner, has completely changed his personality from the person that I knew, and who only wants communication to happen on his terms, then I wish you all the best. I hope that you find a person who also does not want a relationship, who can cope with the mental abuse that is a situationship, and that the two of you love each other and live happily ever after.

All I wanted is to write my fiction, whether it be for fun or to help me process things, without the fear of being verbally attacked. Creative writing is all about writing what you know. If I write a poem, a piece of flash fiction or a novel about a person or a situation that sounds similar to you, that does not mean I am trying to get your attention, that I haven’t moved on or that I am desperately wanting to be with you. It is just a piece of fiction. And that goes for both of you.

Thirteen Miles

I knew the day that we met
It would never last.
Trouble with Peter is
He moves on too fast.
He started with Wendy
Then he got with Jane,
Moved on from Alice,
Now it’s what’s her name.

You saved me from Peter’s childish games.
I didn’t know that it would be in vain.

You were my Rufio,
I was Peter’s Jane.
Since you’ve moved away
Nothing’s been the same.
You were my whirlwind,
I was your shining star,
But since we’ve been apart
You’ve been alone in the dark.

When we first met you were hiding
Behind a mask.
Just like Peter - 
How long did you think you’d last?
You came on so strong,
But then you pulled away.
When you returned,
Oh, how I wished you’d stay.

You saved me from Peter’s childish games.
You promised you wouldn’t cause me so much pain.

You were my Rufio,
I was Peter’s Jane.
I confess I miss your kisses
In the pouring rain.
You were my whirlwind,
I was your shining star.
How does thirteen miles
Feel so impossibly far?

There was no shouting,
No, you’d never complain.
There was no asking you,
“What’s her name?”
Communication faded,
Now we’re incomplete.
Only left with memories,
All so bittersweet.

You were my Rufio,
I was Peter’s Jane.
Since you’ve moved away
Nothing’s been the same.
You were my whirlwind,
I was your shining star,
But since we’ve been apart
You’ve been alone in the dark.

You were my Rufio,
I was Peter’s Jane.
I confess I miss your kisses
In the pouring rain.
You were my whirlwind,
I was your shining star.
How does thirteen miles
Feel so impossibly far?

- Josie -

Update: Job Search, Missing You, Bracelet & Ghost Plushie Backpack

I wonder if I can write what I wanted to earlier or yesterday, I am mentally exhausted. I do not recall ever being this permanently tired. My workplace is completely draining me, but not because of the workload. That is the one thing that I can handle. It is the politics, and every single time the HR lady and Works Manager talk in the boardroom, the atmosphere makes everyone think that they are going to get sacked on the spot, because that has been happening a fair bit lately. You are constantly left thinking, “Am I next?” and Gemini has become the HR lady’s best friend. All of the written warnings and new policies come straight from there (they are all written in America English and I used both ChatGPT and Gemini, and I can clearly identify the writing style from Gemini, in exactly the same way that someone would notice my writing style compared to a colleague or friend). In fact, the HR lady made me so mentally unstable that the doctors told me to take a week off work. I can’t afford to take a week unpaid, but I did take off two days (the last Monday and Tuesday of the last full week of August). The doctor that I spoke to over the phone was incredibly unhelpful. He said take a week off work, as you can self-certify for seven days. He said that if I continue to struggle at work, they will put me on incredibly strong anti-depressants, so that I no longer feel anything. I don’t want that. I like having emotions. I spoke to the Works Manager about it, when he did my return-to-work and he said they just make you constantly drowsy and you literally feel absolutely no emotion at all.
          I was lucky enough to get a job interview on Thursday afternoon for a Business Support role. I have never tried so hard for a job interview before. I researched and had ChatGPT help me work on possible questions that they could ask me and I hand wrote out four whole pages of notes, and I came up with five questions to ask them. Oh and the recruiter said there was going to be a numerous and literacy exam, so I had it give me percentages and ratios that they could, potentially ask me. The interview was very weird. They only asked me to give a brief overview of my career history and that was it. It was more of a personality based interview. The literacy questions were easy, but the numeracy questions were for babies – what is 10 + 15, 30 – 12, 6 * 4, if one tin of paint costs £5, how much do 3 tins of paint cost, and if you start work at 08:30am and leave work at 04:30pm how many hours did you work. Well, I found out yesterday evening that I didn’t get the job. Not because I wasn’t good enough. I was apparently the candidate with the most and strongest experience. They didn’t hire me in case I wouldn’t react well if a colleague shouted at me. Hello! Why didn’t you ask me how I cope with conflict in the work place or if I have handles difficult personalities before? Guess what? I worked at a solicitors for four and a half years. I got shouted at, swore at, told that I was pathetic and didn’t deserve my job. I was told regularly that I have the world’s most annoying voice and if clients hear me speak then I would lose the company business, and that they had hired people with an annoying voice before, but the difference between them and me is that people actually liked the previous person. And guess what again? They hired a guy. Despite this being incredibly sexist, most men do not stay in administration roles longer than six months. They progress. You didn’t ask, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” like everyone else does. Because I saw the guy who you hired. He is a cocky guy in his mid-twenties, who very likely lacks attention to detail, will smooth talk his way to a higher position, make lots of mistakes, but you ill keep him, because you are a flirt and you like how he speaks to you. However, you will need a new administrator.
          On the way to my interview, my brain imagined my ex-partner hugging me. It really made me smile, and it gave the confidence that I needed to get through the interview.

          My doctors appointment on Friday was completely pointless. Yes, he said I don’t need antidepressants, but he also made me feel like my current situation is all my fault. He said to take two weeks off work, unpaid. I said I can’t. One) HR will say that I am not mentally capable of my job and sack me and two) I need income in order to pay my mortgage and bills. The doctor said to look for a part time job. Again, I said I can’t. I have a mortgage, insurance, council tax and utility bills to pay. He said, “You should have thought of that before you bought yourself somewhere.” Yes, I know that a lot of autistic females only work part time, as their husband earns enough money for the both of them, but one) if I had a partner I would never make them have to be the sole provider so that I didn’t have to struggle and two) not having a partner isn’t my personal choice. I want a relationship, to be married, to have special anniversary years, to have known each other more than half of our lives. I am just not lucky enough to have ever met someone that wants that with me - and it’s not through lack of trying. Even the doctor agreed that it was too late to make that happen. I’m always going to struggle, because I need a full time job, in order to pay my mortgage, tax and bills. I don’t understand what else I am supposed to do. It isn’t my fault I am stuck at a company with incredibly low morale, the managers admit daily that they hate the place and want to leave, one manager admits to applying to other jobs daily, a handful of people cry at their desks, because the atmosphere makes everyone fear for their jobs and HR gloats that she loves the power that she has over people and the thrill that she gets from sacking people. She has sacked 8 people in less than a year and three others have resigned. The HR lady exclaimed throughout the day, “Ooow, I love it!” I am trying to leave. I really, really am. I am applying to jobs with my exact same job title and am getting a no back within an hour.
          I really wanted to find the time to write up the dream that I had about a week ago. I did start, but I scribbled too many parts out. Then I wrote it out again yesterday, when I was in a teeny-tiny bit of a better mood, because I thought that I might be leaving my workplace, but then it got wet on the way home, and some of the writing smudged, and I spent last night applying to 14 jobs and another one this morning. I had wanted to take a picture of my writing, and have Gemini translate it into text, which it has done wonderfully before. It even tells me that my handwriting is incredibly clear and easy to read! I haven’t had the mental energy to re-write it or type it. Nor have I really found the time to. I am typing little bits of this in between answering my emails, because the middle day of the month is always the slowest. So far, only three hours have passed, and it really feels like five should have, because it feels like it should be lunch time. How is it only 10:38am?
          I really wanted to reach out to my ex-partner to ask if his is okay, but I know that I can’t. I miss the person that he was when we first met. I did not like the person that he became. Part of me hopes that the old him is still in there somewhere, but the scary realisation that the old him may no longer exist and the new version of him responds and makes me feel mentally unwell is too much of a risk to take. Maybe the person that I met was the person that he thought he wanted to be at the time. Relationships are incredibly hard work, but when someone puts in 180% of the effort, when the other person only puts 20%, and to be met with, “There isn’t any point in texting you, because we just say the same thing,” when I communicate with the same level of effort is completely heartbreaking. I was never after a lot, just the bare minimum of communication for a relationship to work. You can’t treat the communication of a long-distance relationship in the same way that you can if you live together. If you want the low-level no-technology check-in of an in-person relationship, but you do not see each other to experience the none-spoken communication, there isn’t anything left. I really do miss the old you. I want to send him a cuddle. I know I told him that I couldn’t cope and I had to stop talking to him, and it is true. The situationship style of communicating makes an non-anxious person anxious, so for someone who struggles, it makes me mentally unstable, and I can’t have someone in control of me like that. I do not want that version of him back, and if that is the only version that exists, then I do not want to hear from him ever again,
          I had to clear my cubbyhole out for the water meter to be replaced (I use too little water, and they had to fit me with a meter that I can’t alter, despite me not doing that, but they thought that I was). While moving everything out, I found the box of my ex-partner’s things. They are things I had bought for him that I never got to give him, presents that I did give him that he left at mine, and things that he gifted me. I want to hold onto them, in case there is a way that we can be friends. I know he very likely has someone new (and from my experience of people moving on so fast, he is probably already lives with his new partner and is engaged by now, because everyone moves on that quickly after how slow I take things) and I would never want to interfere with his deserved happily ever after. It doesn’t mean that I don’t want to ever rule out us begin friends one day.
          The water meter replacement went relatively smoothly, in the end. It was a good thing that I stood at the window from 7:45am until he turned up at 11:15am, because the engineer drove an electric van (so it was silent) he did not phone before hand or when he arrived (like I was told they would) and he would not have been able to contact time, because the intercom doesn’t work, and I have paid a £125 bill for the intercom to be looked at, but no one ever came. Anyways,  the engineer was very smiley and polite. In fact, it has just occurred to me that he reminds me exactly of the woodman from ‘Hoodwikned.’ I asked him if the meter was broken, but he just replied that it was old. He cleaned up after himself, he had blue roll with him, to ensure he did not leave a mess, and he made sure that my water was working again, before leaving. I think I am now supposed to take a meter reading every fortnight, for a while, so that they can check my water usage. Well, since Saturday morning, I still have not got to number 1 yet, I am still in the decimal numbers.
          I had a rather huge argument with someone last week regarding invisible disabilities. This person said that if you have a physical disability, you must have a walking stick, so that fully abled people know whether you truly are disabled or not. I have never had such a fully blown argument with a person in all of my life. I can’t believe some people do not understand how discriminatory they are being. They wouldn’t like it if whatever medication they might be taking was forced to flash above their head for the world to see. It is none of your business whether someone has a disability or not.
          Today has gone by so incredibly slowly. The office is uncomfortably warm too. And why isn’t it raining? I thought it was supposed to rain for the whole of September. Now there will be people everywhere on my walk home and loads of screaming kids in the estate off my road.
          Vic was back at work today. He is one of the warehouse colleagues and has just had two weeks holiday in Turkey. I was at the airport, with Darren, when Vic flew out and me and Snuffles waved to him. He is in his 70s and was worried that might be his last holiday, because he is losing his vision. I have known Vic since the day I started at my job and he was always the one that I would talk to or confide in. He went part time last year in the summer, so he only works from 7:30am until 12:30pm on Tuesdays to Thursdays now. He has always said that I am the unluckiest person that he knows. He jokes that I must have been Meg, Hades assistant, in Disney’s Hercules, in a past life, as I must have made a deal with Hades and I now am cursed with bad luck. He bought me a bracelet on holiday; he said it is the Turkish evil eye and will ward off the bad luck for me, which I thought was incredibly sweet of him.

 

           I applied to 14 jobs last night, one this morning before I even left for work (that one I am most excited about. It is to work at the café/bar that I used to go to with my ex-partner. I remember telling him this time last year that I thought I could do it, and I have just applied to a 48 hour week job there). I heard from a recruiter today, who has recommended me a brand new job that she was just handed this morning, which I have looked through. Bartley Green is kind of get-able, so I am applying to their Sourcing Administrator. I find it funny that I had an automated rejection email this morning to a job that is literally my current job title, but I can be recommended to apply to a job that I only have transferable skills in and it isn’t really anything like my current job.
          Oh and completely off topic, there was a lady walking in front of me, part of the way home, and she had an incredibly cute, fluffy ghost backpack. I had to take a picture of it, because I love it so much. I have no idea if I might be able to find one… but knowing me, I would be too scared to use it, as I wouldn’t want to get it ruined or dirty.

 

 

- Josie -