Do I rid myself of this negative person, or continue being kind toward them?

There’s a bit of confusion on my part over what to do with this “friend,” who I’ll call Alice. She’s deliberately used me, and storms off in a huff most of the time we part ways. She also has a problem with me being honest with her regarding her issues, and even lesser issues she exhibits, to the point of making it impossible to be myself around her. Basically, we don’t get along, and yet I’m confused, because I want to treat her kindly and be more patient (and she does try my patience!).

I want to forgive her for being the way she is, and turn the other cheek to her innumerable rudenesses, and I’ll say idiotic pressures to conform to her expectations. Basically, I feel that I would only be opening myself up to further abuse, and feeling bad, over our encounters, but at the same time I’m left with this crisis of conscience. Doesn’t God love everyone equally?! Shouldn’t I strive to do the same? Should I turn the other cheek? My old self would tell her to take a hike, but this Christian outlook I’ve taken on doesn’t seem as permitting of such a resolve. To further top this issue off, she’s about as sinful as they come, living in slothenly conditions, lacking general manners, and becoming outraged at the slightest hint of pressure from the outside world. We’re not very well suited, even as friends.

On our last encounter, I told her that I only wanted to be friends, and that I wouldn’t have sex outside of marriage any longer. She stormed off, again without saying goodbye, or anything. I messaged her asking her not to contact me again, but then she came while I was out on a walk, and she left behind a can of tuna, and a plaster statue of a robot – writing on the tinned tuna, “Jocelyn vs. the Joker.” This is a dumb argument she’s invented through having schitzophrenia, as she had accused me of being in a relationship with Jocelyn, which I responded instinctually, “There’s no need to be smart about it.” This is just one example of how she sets to attacking me, when I say something which confronts her, such as those comments I made about not wanting a relationship with her. I threw the tuna, and the statue in the bin. The tuna would have gone bad outside in the sun, and the statue is unwanted clutter – a gift is only a gift if the other person accepts it.

Do I rid myself of this negative person, or continue being kind toward them?

The Rosary of Our Blessed Mother, Mary.

I chose the Rosary as a symbol of significance to me, because I’ve recently begun praying the Rosary. It’s a tool of meditation for mysteries, and prayer to the virgin Mother. It’s also a device of concentration which helps me relax. I have chess club tonight, and find chess offers me a similar level of escape.

I need to increase my concentration, and practice meditation for my mental well-being. It helps that I’m praying because it brings me closer to God. After I prayed the Rosary, last night, I prayed openly to God, asking for strength to get through my difficulties, and to help me come closer to Him, and Jesus. That I might experience the same closeness and love for Him, that I once had, to be happier in general, as I’ve been very unhappy.

Father Steven, of the St.Monica’s church, in Kangaroo Flat, gave me a prayer book on praying the Rosary. The depiction in the booklet shows the order of the prayers. It begins with the Apostles’ Creed, an Our Father, three Hail Marys, a Glory Be, another Our Father, followed by ten Hail Marys, a Glory Be, and another Our Father – which continues for the five decades before ending with a Hail Holy Queen. This was my penance for my sins which I confessed to Father Steven, last Sunday morning.

Jocelyn, my best friend (and most actively engaged friend at the moment), is also Catholic, but she is of the Carismatic Catholic faith, where speaking in toungues is commonplace. I think it’s gibberish, however, as performing such an act doesn’t fill me with anything but concerns over my actions.

I use the Rosary to contemplate God, and the mysteries, to pray to our lady, and to focus on my faith, through the devotional act of praying.

And this concludes the set of writing exercises outlined in the title ‘Writing True Stories,’ Patti Miller. I’m sure there will be more, but I need to get on with the reading process(es), as the book as been renewed to the maximum extent, and I may not have time to finish reading it, before it has to be returned. I may go from my relaxed place of writing (outside theMetropolitan), to the library – for the peacefulness of the environment there. It’s just a shame that I’m looking to roll smokes from butts which are here, as I’ve been struggling to quit. Although, I’ve been using the nicorette spray.

The Rosary of Our Blessed Mother, Mary.


I’m not sure what I expect to gain from my newly adopted faith in Christianity. Maybe it’s solidarity with other Christians’ which I seek to befriend and associate myself with in general.

Another reason may be that I’m looking for the same level of happiness that I had while attending a Christian primary school, and had become Christian myself. I was having a great time during that part of my life and had many good friends to hang around with, and enjoyed the personal relationship that I had with God.

I think I need to live a spiritual life but can’t ascribe to the Old World religions which constitute modern spiritual life, as my abuse stemmed from my interest in the occult, and the esoteric facets of our modern society. Although, in some large ways, I think such an outlook leads to a more inclusive disposition than the more rigid teachings of the bible.

I still want to have a progressive approach to Christianity, including gays and people of all walks of life. I just want to embrace all of the different followings, but in doing so I feel I’m leaving myself open to something terrible happening to me (again). I don’t want to relive the same problems by following nothing in particular, as I have experienced some awful things through my beliefs in the past.

I think my beliefs led me to hold Ray in higher esteem than I ought to have. He was my mentor and even my “guru” in my own spiritual quests. I think Christianity is an outward manifestation of my remorse over what happened between us, and my desire to be on God’s good side. I even considered Islam for a time there, and this is despite my previously held convictions of the evils of Islam – from an atheistic perspective.

I suppose I believed that my relationship with Islam was a sort of calling out from God to follow him, at a time I was struggling with my faith. In some ways I’ve always believed there’s more to this world than what meets the eye.


My Park :)

Mum used to take me to a particular park. I was very young and mum started a precendent between us that it was “my park.” There was a “wavey” slide, a swing set, and a wizzy-dizzy piece of equipment which I sometimes would get mum involved in.

I found it immensely hillarious to see my mum after hopping out of the spinning playground equipment, watching her stagger about while complaining of not being able to stand up properly.

We didn’t attend the park as often as I would have liked, as it was some ways from where we lived. How simple life was in those days.

When I was a bit older, my step dad, Robert would take me skateboarding on a hill in Braybrook, where L plater’s would be taken to practice driving. We would skate down the hill on our own skateboards. Robert taught me to skate from one side of the road to the other, and back again, all the way to the bottom of the hill.

We went there only a few times but we taught each other things on the skateboards. He taught me how to get down the hill, and I taught him how to “turn backside.” He struggled to turn left which required him to push the rear kick of the deck forwards. I think he just felt awkward leaning backwards.

These are a couple of the instances in my childhood which were most memorable (with my parents). I don’t have many happy childhood memories.

My Park :)

Asperger’s Syndrome, an endearing quality?

Hi all,

So I’m doing a writing activity which is based on what I want to others to know about me, before all other things. It’s both a condition, and a major part of my personality. In both ways this aspect of myself could be considered a weakness, and strength.

In the worse ways which I’m affected, this condition deprives me of some of the most fundamentally desireable traits. Issues arise with name recall, anxiety, over sensitivity to stimuli such as sound and light, and in other more prominent ways such as black and white perception. I’m a logical thinker, and also prone to content myself with subjects which aren’t based on logic, due to my need for more in life. I’m also very much emotionally challenged, which when coupled with taking things literally means that I often don’t get jokes, sarcasm, or come up with witty remarks.

On the plus sides: I can be very focused on subjects which appeal to me, and having that flexibility of thought, (I’m a particularly flexible thinker) means that I can often find solutions to problems which aren’t obvious or apparent. I’m a good problem solver which helps with my chess playing skill set, and also artistic due to the various levels of thinking involved in my approach to set tasks. On the other hand, I can be highly concrete in my logic/approach to said tasks, and so this black and white thinking style is of benefit to me.

Having autism means I’m different to most people, and so I have a more difficult time fitting in with others, and of having a positive experience with socialising. I attend specific group meetings, including the chess club, and a church group, where I’m hoping to make new friends who are decent, trustworthy, and loyal. There’s an element of judgementalism within many church goers which I find displeasing, but I’m hoping to get past that issue, and with hope, prayer, and meditation, am confident that I will find less judgemental members of the church with which to associate myself.

I like to think of myself as loyal, honest, and decent, while remaining an individual. In this, I ascribe to Christian principle with an aire of doubt, and consideration. I supposedly still see myself as agnostic about the entire thing, but am content with holding on to the virtues of our Lord at this point. As DMX can be heard singing: “If you stand for nothing, you’ll fall for anything.” I don’t want to be shallow about what it means to be immoral, and morality is very much a part of my personality but I also recognise the need I have for something a little more than my own determinations of what being morally upstanding entails.

This morality, or lack thereof, is the accumulation of a lifetime of trial and error. And the errors have been severe, maybe such which wouldn’t have occurred, had I the leadership of a respectable example, such as Jesus, in my life. I’m hoping that I can build my faith into something respectable while maintaining my views on evolution, social responsibility, and my natural sense of justice, which I have so vigorously exercised in the past. Asperger’s Syndrome; the leading causitive effect of being morally consumed, at least in my case.

Defend the weak. Include the discluded. Love those who are without love. And give to those who are in need, are all included in the Christian’s approach to others who share this world with us, and which I find pleasing, both aesthetically, and emotionally. To quote a strong atheist, whose name evades me for reasons illustrated earlier: “Without God, everything is permissable.” I suppose it doesn’t take a genius to deduce that this is only one person’s idiom, but it does stand to reason that without the moral guidelines of the structured church of this land, we are subject to all sorts of social fads, and adopted truisms that can lend us to behave in lesser morally upstanding behaviours.

This has been a short writing piece on what having Asperger’s Syndrome means to me. I hope you have found it informative, and interesting.

Asperger’s Syndrome, an endearing quality?

At a time I was going to kindergarten.

It was late one Christmas eve, and I was still young and full of wonder, and as young people who are expecting Santa to arrive with presents, I was wide awake – ready to experience the joys which Christmas brings.

Finally, I went to bed. I lay awake for many hours listening to the occassional muffled sounds of my parents talking through my closed bedroom door. My step dad came in and talked with me. He pointed outside my bedroom window directing my attention to the rooftops of our neighbouring houses. He told me that Santa was on another rooftop, and that he wouldn’t be coming to my house, if I were awake.

He left my room and closed the door behind himself. I looked outside to the rooftops for a short while afterward. I was thinking about the wonders of Santa Claus before finally turning to my pillow for sleep. I think I got to sleep pretty quickly.

The next morning, I woke up to some large presents under the Christmas tree. I tore open Santas gift to me, first. It was the entire collection of Ninja Turtles figurines. Crang was the only character missing from it. I was over the moon with my present(s). There was also a Lego pirate ship which I set to building immmediately after opening the Ninja Turtles. There was also a Nintendo Entertainment System, but I couldn’t play it, as there weren’t any games to play at that point.

Mum interceded on my behalf, over the pirate ship, saying that it would be too difficult for me to build on my own. So I played outside all day with various toys, such as my matchbox cars, while she and my step dad built the pirate ship for me. It was very late before I was able to see the completed ship (they’d spent the entire day putting it together). I was a little disappointed that I wasn’t able to build it myself (or with help), but I enjoyed about an hour or so playing with it, until mum told me it was well past my bedtime.

I had to go to bed. The next day we went to the video shop to rent out a game. I think we got Mario Brothers, and The Ninja Turtles. I played it non-stop, and I developed a bit of an addiction to video games through it. For many years, I enjoyed playing the NES games which were sometimes borrowed, and others bought second hand (mostly, some were bought new and original), and found it a great lot of fun.

Our neighbours had children around my age, who went to the same school as I did. One of which I was good friends with, Margarette. Leading up to New Year’s eve, I decided to lend the console, and the one game in my possession, Mario Brother’s 1 to her, and her family to play “for a while.”

I quickly changed my mind about lending it out, as I wanted to play it myself, and mum told me it was too late at night to go there to play it. I was in a terribly angry mood, but was allowed to go there to ask for it back – which I did. Margarette’s mother answered the door, and was disappointed that they didn’t have it very long, but I wasn’t the greatest communicators back then, as I was only starting primary school that following year.

I started disliking school over staying at home with my Mother. One of her “rules” to my staying home was that there would be no Nintendo all day but I didn’t care. I didn’t like school, and I missed my mother who I knew would be home all day, where I was used to belonging. Afterall, I still enjoyed my toys (which upset my Mum, who was frustrated with my distaste for the school environment), and would tell me that I shouldn’t be playing with my toys either, if I were having the day off school.

It was only prep, afterall. I felt different to the other kids, who as they interacted with one another, would appear as like a scene from a movie, or tv. I would just zone out and think about how they were all talking to one another. I ended up in a conversation with mum about my being different, on a number of occassions.

Mum eventually offered me a solution to my questions, that of going to see a psychologist. I was adament about doing so, and so one day not long after, I found us trudging into a psychologists office, complete with a foreign step just inside the door.

I vaguely remember one of the psychologists telling me that I might have Asperger’s, but mum wasn’t pleased with this outcome and insisted that there was nothing wrong with me. It took me many years, and an earnest interest in psychology, to discover that I might be on the spectrum. I was convinced of it, and so I went to see a psychiatrist who is qualified to diagnose ASD’s, and was finally diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome.

This was a massive relief to me at the time. But then came the crippling depression, and flat out refusal to accept my condition, or myself. I felt inferior, and wanted more than ever to be normal, and lead a normal life. My special interests changed from passions, to an outward sign of my condition, and I left my usually happy place of thoughts for a series of complicated introspections on the condition I have, and the manifestation of Asperger’s, in the way one no longer appreciates the beauty in things, and starts to question the nature of such appreciation.

I suppose I’m longing to regain that appreciation, and in finding Jesus as my saviour, I’m hoping that He can make my life whole and complete again. And even help me with my other issues. Lord Jesus increase my faith! Amen. I haven’t always believed in the supernatural, but from a young age, I had a great amount of belief in it. I suppose there were some influences on me.

One influence was my step-father, Robert. I had a Skeletor action figure which came with a replica of his staff which had a skull atop it. I put it in the kitchen sink which Robert told me was a bad omen, and then my mum cut herself while doing the dishes. He made a point of confirming his previous comment on it.

Then was a witch at school, following her own mother’s beliefs, who used to talk about interesting topics which I was forbidden to learn about by my mother. One day, Chantelle, and our mutual friend, Sheree were sitting under a tree in the playground on one of our breaks. Another friend of mine, Simon was running through the sand pit where other young children were building things, as he would race through, kicking them all down.

We watched him do this again, while we spoke about Chantelle’s beliefs. I personally was upset with Simon’s actions but none of us spoke about it. When Chantelle admitted that she, and Sheree were both witches, I decided to put them to a test. I meant to say: “Make Simon stop it,” but as I was transfixed on Simon running across the oval, the words came out: “Make Simon fall over.”

I’m not sure, but I think Simon began to trip over as I was starting my sentence but then changed the completed sentence to “fall over” as he was tripping over. Chantelle gave me an excited hug, saying “Well done! You used your intuition!” That stuck with me for many years, and for many years after moving away from that area I was fixated on learning more about witchcraft. I believed in it.

At a time I was going to kindergarten.

Spirituality, Religion, and sexual assual.

I’ve been through one side of the spiritual argument to the other, and I’m finding more resistance from believers’ now that I’m willing to accept there’s a God, than before I was willing to accept God as a viable possibility.

My brother, father, and other followers of the Christian faith are all seemingly in unison over evolution being non-factual, and basically suggestive of it only being an opinion rather than our best fit model of how we came to be here.

My brother, Josh views all professionals, experts, or otherwise qualified person’s as overpaid, underaccomplished, or simply useless or of having no valuable insights to offer, along with our best fit theories, and theoretical models within the fields of all sciences.

I got his messages on facebook which reflect such overlooking attitudes toward our most respected members of society, and I almost resorted to attacking him, as I personally felt attacked due to holding such people in high esteem, and by my personal values of critical thinking, and academia in general, I argued that we wouldn’t be where we are today without them.

There seems to be no arguing with such people, as they feel threatened by scientific understanding, in their personal beliefs in the Holy Bible, and what their personal relationship to God is. I suppose I felt like I had something to defend as well. Maybe it’s my improved understanding of what education has to offer – although it wasn’t always this way.

In early primary school, I believed that my educators had been “brainwashed” by false ideas, and so they weren’t capable of teaching me the truth of the world, and I found many examples which supported this belief; however, I have come to realise that the education system generally has the most up to date knowledge available for respective students.

It could be that I’m more of a critical thinker than many of these die hard believers, or that they are less critical of the bible, and so leave themselves open to all the (now) falsehoods which have become prevalent through scientific discovery. I guess they’re just defending their beliefs by attacking scientific understandings, in the same way that a strong atheist attacks God, and “His” words.

Now, I’m not sure why, but I’m still considering my Catholic heritage. That one of my best friends is a Catholic, doesn’t surprise me. Our mutual friend is also Catholic, and my uncle Gerard is a Roman Catholic priest, himself baptising me as an infant. Another old friend bought me a set of rosary beads just yesterday. Something I intend on using at some point since I don’t meditate much these days, and think it’s my only real way to “bond” with God.

The esoteric types of spirituality have fallen by the wayside, from my youth of being groomed by a fucken peodophile, myself falling into the trap through my interest in Wicca, and the occult – all of which I’d seen my abuser, Raymond, as being of a superior knowledge, and all ’round superior in his spirituality.

I can’t say that this was what kept me around as the abuse got worse. It seems I loved the care, and attention I was recieving between the ages of 12 and 18 years of age. I made many allowances for his actions, and because of this accommodating process involved, I came to accept his advances as no one’s fault, and even my own fault.

I feel as though I led him on in some way by sticking around but there was a relationship of trust and understanding which had developed long before things got out of hand, and so there was also respect and admiration between us, or at least on my part. In this way, I suppose I viewed our “friendship” as somewhat of an equal basis, and in that believed I had an equal part in everything which happened between us – but that isn’t true.

I told Ray numerous times that I was only interested in women, a couple of times that I didn’t want a relationship with him, and on the many other advances, I had found myself resorting to the freeze response. I was literally unable to attack him for his wrong doings. It was as though that relationship were already there, as he had an adult understanding which he freely imparted, while I was often out of my depth. I’m guessing he knew what he was doing.

My counsellor from CASA told me that the reason peophiles groom their victims is to build up a level of trust which allows them to commit the abuse/s without having to face the consequences of their actions. This is a truism to my personal situation, as I didn’t report him. In fact I still have contact with him, but I’m honestly considering severing the tie.

The problem with severing the tie is that I might be able to get a confession out of him while we’re in touch, and have him charged with drugging me, raping me, and for the digital assault. This might make up for the years of mental abuse I suffered through his unnatural desire to have more than a friendship with me. How I regret not having the fight response at my disposal while it was occurring.

Spirituality, Religion, and sexual assual.