It’s the Sunday of my 62nd birthday, which means I’ve completed it. It’s a wrap and tomorrow I begin working on my 63rd. I like to confuse people with that literal interpretation, which this year I learned is just one of my many autistic traits.
Up till this year, I knew I had ADHD and a lot of the things associated with that were not quite enough of a description explaining me weirdness. Now with this piece of my mental puzzle things make more sense. My unique recipie of ADHD, autism, combined with childhood trauma because of those and an asexual queer attitude thrown in to make the self esteem completely confused.
Confused is probably the best word that encompasses all of me. Always fearing mim wrong and upsetting those around me. My main life goal is to not be the reason for the unhappiness or bother if others. I live to not be yelled at.
Ironically, that often makes me far more annoying much of the time.
I don’t like choices. I do my best to not make decisions and instead, have adopted a philosophy to accept and adapt. I often enjoy changes in my life but I don’t want to be the one to make them.
My lifestyle is pretty much ignoring any effort of choice and relying on the fact that many problems go away on their own, and the important ones can be delayed a very long time. My love for instant gratification and delayed agitation has worked out pretty well.
It’s not for everyone and some consequences involve compromise, but if you accept and adapt, and make the story the goal in everything then when the bad things really do catch up, you still end up with a silver lining story that softens the blow.
If something is going to be bad, then I’d rather it be bad tomorrow and not today. I don’t consider levels of bad. They’re just not fun in the now and the future is uncertain. I may die before I have to deal.
It’s is around my birthday when I let myself think and evaluate whether ignoring anything that doesn’t provide dopamine served me well in this calendar year but my metrics are not the same as other people. Rather than thinking it could be worse, I prefer to look at the way I tell it.
My story is one I’m proud of. It’s a great story, with ups and perceived downs I put aside. I eat food I like and make people smile almost every day. Very few people yelled at me this year. More money would always be good but I’d have to earn it and my story is one worth telling either way. I’m still me and I have main character energy either way.
When the story is the goal, and you get to tell yours the way you want, I’m happy with mine. That’s my point I suppose. Why would I choose to tell it any other way.
I’m an impressive 62 year old storyteller currently living this one and I think it has apeal.
Orange Jeff
Author of my story and curator of my universe.
