So, okay, i just wrote this fabulous little essay, complete with a fine hook of an ending, and after hitting “publish post”, i watched it disappear into the ether. Crap.
I’m sure that it’s happened to you at some time or another as well. It gets me to thinking about all the lost thoughts out there. Do they end up with the odd socks and misplaced pens? What is the sum of the collective knowledge of all the accidentally-deleted and otherwise computer-victimized words of the world?
I’ve mourned for words i lost myself, and occasionally, for lost words written by others, never to be read. I suppose the same compulsion that leads me to investigate every corner, to read every word that i see, also leads me to try, vainly, to read the words that are just out of my grasp, out there.
If i might take this a little further… i was discussing logic and knowledge with Slacks, Serious, and Professica last week. i found myself trying to articulate an idea of mine regarding thinking about that which cannot be known, in much the same way as mathematicians deal in “unreal numbers”, which can be expressed in mathamatic terms, but never actually defined.
Then again, that might just be the Aspie in me speaking; a thought interrupted or lost, once i’ve begun to describe it, is seemingly lost to me. i find it extremely difficult to re-collect my thoughts and begin again, being bound to have to repeat myself verbatim.
But, ah, this post is starting to wander… time to try and recapture the lost thoughts of my previous essay attempt.
October 13, 2004
lost thoughts
October 12, 2004
a Serious diagnosis
Over a meal last night, friends and family alike agreed that i have a problem. My long-time pal Serious who works with “troubled” youth (and has a nice psychology degree) reaffirmed what some other folks have been saying for years. A little research of my own, and it looks true.
Kimber was right all along: i’m mildly autistic. Actually, it looks like i have Asperger’s Syndrome. No wonder i’m so brilliant! No wonder i’m so fucked up!
So, what does this mean? Not a whole hell of alot, really. There’s a pharmacopia out there waiting to “treat” me, but then i wouldn’t really be “me” anymore. The cognitive therapy and medative practice i’ve engaged in so far seem to be the best there is. Knowing that some doctor has named a condition, and that it applies to me, doesn’t help much, at least not directly. It does, however, alleviate some of the “what’s wrong with me?!” anxiety, and makes the “cognitive” part of cognitive therapy that much more literal. At least it supplies a better label than “weird”, or being lumped in with the ubiquitous ADHD crowd.
There’s folks from my past that i’d like to ask about this revelation. Unfortunately, my personality has pushed alot of them away. It would be interesting to see how people feel when they learn that i actually can’t always behave a different way, even when i really want to, and that my “weirdness” doesn’t alter my underlying humanity; it just makes it very difficult for me to translate my thoughts and emotions into something more plainly recognizable by “normal” people.
Further in-depth information can be found here.
