The View from a Drawbridge

What follows, dear reader, is a long winded rant about family drama and how you can be accused of the most horrible intentions even if the truth is to the contrary. I wrote this simply to try to work it out in my own mind and perhaps heal a few wounds I never thought I’d have in the process. If you don’t read beyond this paragraph, I wouldn’t blame you in the least. I hope to see you next time. But if you do, thank you for bearing witness, and I hope some of these life lessons will make you feel a little less alone in your own efforts to learn and grow, with or without familial support.

As I mentioned the other day in a post entitled, “Getting One’s Sh** Together: A Handy Flowchart”, organization is not my strong suit. This translates into having difficulty managing time and solving problems as well. It’s a huge part of my autism and, while I’m working on it as much as I can, I’m also learning that I’m much better off if I don’t bite off more than I can chew.

I’m hoping that the whole “less is more” concept is now firmly planted in my brain, because I thought I was doing an amazing, exciting, fun thing that would make a lot of people happy the other day, only to have it blow up in my face in an epic fashion. I’m still reeling from the shock wave of that debacle. I doubt I’ll ever be quite the same. I truly thought I was doing a good thing, and I was proud to have pushed beyond my comfort zone with all the planning. I never expected to find myself where I am now.

It all started several years ago, when I heard that there was to be a total solar eclipse that would be visible in the US in April, 2024. After that, the next one that will be visible in this country won’t be until the year 2045. By then I’ll be 80, and who knows if I’ll be alive, fit to travel, in my right mind to enjoy it, and with vision acute enough to see it. So in essence, solar eclipse 2024 is probably my last, best chance.

Something I didn’t truly understand when I was young was how finite life is. The closer you come to your likely demise, the faster time seems to pass. And the faster time passes, the more you realize that there will never be enough of it for all the things you want to do. Everything becomes so much more precious and bittersweet as a result. Young people believe they can put things off, and that there will always be another chance to see someone or do something. If only.

So I had it in my head that I’d gather my little family together, and also invite my dearest friends, scattered throughout the world, to meet me in the path of the eclipse’s totality. That had been the plan all along. I wanted to create a one of a kind memory, see some older friends perhaps for the last time, and meet the younger generation so that after I was long gone, they could say to each other, “Remember that time we flew a kite during a solar eclipse with Aunt Barb? She was cool.”

I already have the kite. It was going to be awesome. It was going to be unforgettable.

I suppose it’s a feeble attempt at immortality, but it would have been a fun one. Planning this trip had been on my to do list for about 20 months now and it had never quite made it past the daydream stage, so when I ran it through the Task Prioritization Flowchart that I mentioned above, it popped out as priority one. It was time to get off my butt and get to work.

The downside of this was that I was sick as a dog, and had been for days. I was so congested that I couldn’t sleep because it felt like I would drown in my own bodily fluids. The thick, gravelly cough that plagued me was causing my stomach muscles to be in agony. I sounded like a three pack a day smoker even though I had never smoked a cigarette in my entire life. I was exhausted, and depleted of all energy. But I heard a rumor that all the airbnbs along the route of the eclipse were being snapped up, so if I didn’t get a move on, we’d have no place to stay.

I spent a few hours writing notes so that I wouldn’t overlook any important details in the planning of this trip. For starters, who among the people I love the most wouldn’t be able to afford to take this trip without my help? Those people mean as much to me as those who are more financially stable, so they’d be invited to stay with us, and would only have to pay for their own food and transportation.

The guest list at our house would be me, Dear Husband, a relative and her three kids, and two women that I had known and loved for decades and was looking forward to introducing to my family. That meant I’d have to find a really big rental place, much larger than those that are commonly available, especially in rural Arkansas. And it had to be somewhere along the path of the eclipse, available for the dates in question, and within my budget.

Recently, one person told me about how she couldn’t handle large crowds and needed her own space, so I definitely wanted to be sure that she had a room to herself. As an autistic person, I can certainly appreciate the need to have your own space, even when you are a guest in someone else’s home. Another person has serious health issues, and probably would be better off with her own room as well, So, in an effort to be considerate of everyone’s needs, I was basically looking for a place with at least 4 bedrooms, preferably 5, and at least two bathrooms.

Oh, and it would have to be in an area with other airbnbs or hotel options available, because then there were an additional 16 people that I would invite for the occasion. If they were willing, they’d have to find their own lodgings nearby and come and hang out. I was envisioning our place as the social hub. Bar-b-cue, roasting marshmallows, doing artsy craftsy stuff or flying a kite during the eclipse. It would be fun.

Yeah, I’m good at daydreaming, but I’m also realistic. I don’t like huge crowds either, but I knew that I’d be lucky if even two of these people could attend. They’re all adults with lives, they’re scattered all over the world, and in various states of health. We’re not college students, living in dorms and planning an all-nighter to study for midterms. Most people aren’t willing or able to adjust their plans. Proof of that was the fact that no one I knew for more than 3 years could attend my wedding, the most important day of my life. I’ll say it again: people have lives.

The thought that anyone would believe that if I invited 23 people (total), that 23 would actually come, never even crossed my mind. I figured that besides my houseful, maybe 2 people would attend, and I’d be thrilled to see them. But I looked forward to inviting everyone, and letting them know just how much they mean to me. I got a great deal of satisfaction from putting that positive energy out into the universe, and seeing what would come back to me.

It took me 10 hours over the space of two days to find the perfect rental place. Well, it wasn’t perfect, perfect. It wasn’t right along the path of totality for the eclipse, so we’d have to take a drive to see the event, but it would have to do. Other than that detail, it seemed like it stood the best chance of accommodating the needs of everyone concerned. Next would be putting the idea out there to see if people were still interested.

That’s when everything hit the fan. I got it from all directions, really. One person was pissed off that he hadn’t been invited to stay at the big house, even though his sister had told me not to worry about it, because he makes plenty of money and would be okay with staying elsewhere.

One person said I wasn’t taking her needs into account, and that I was only thinking of myself. (I wish I had been told that was the kind of person I was before I spent 10 hours looking for a place to rent that would work for everyone. It would have saved me a lot of time.)

Someone was offended that they weren’t part of the planning process, even though I had been talking about it for two years, and that person never offered to do anything in particular to make this dream a reality. Because it was my idea, I figured it was up to me, but apparently that somehow means that I was making these people a “mere afterthought.” I was informed that I was “self-centered and hateful.”

Something that came out of left field was the reaction of two people who were in professions that revolved around caring for those with special needs. I mentioned to them that certain accommodations would have to be made in light of someone’s disability, and that was interpreted as a major imposition. I was told that beggars can’t be choosers so she’d just have to deal with it, and that nobody wants to be responsible for someone they don’t know. I was shocked at that level of callousness.

But the main concern seemed to be that there would be so many people there, and this was sounding like less and less fun to them. I could have pointed out that it was now sounding less and less fun to me, too, but instead I tried to explain, for the third time, that most people wouldn’t show, and wouldn’t be staying at the house, but that wasn’t being heard. How could I subject them to so many people? During one explanation I mentioned the lack of attendance at my wedding as evidence that the crowd wouldn’t be that big, which to me is simply proof that there was no need for concern, but instead that was interpreted as an accusation of their lack of attendance, which was also deemed to be my fault. By now I despaired of ever being heard.

That in turn, prompted them to tell me that they were offended because I hadn’t attended a wedding that I knew nothing about until after the fact. (In fact, I only knew about the change in marital status by seeing it on Facebook months later. No one had said anything to me, probably because I expressed reservations about a groom who had been violent to the bride. It didn’t end well.)

By now, I was so hurt at their inaccurate assessments of my motivations after knowing me for their entire lives, and shocked by their unexpected lack of consideration for another human being, and disappointed that two years of dreams and all the effort I had put in was unraveling before my very eyes. It felt as though I had presented this bright, shiny, glowing gift of love, only to have it shat upon. That, combined with my autism and the fact that I was sick as a dog, made this horrific, unimaginable interaction seem that much worse.

Then there was the dismissive and condescending tone being used toward someone 25 years their senior, which is something I’ll never get used to. I wasn’t raised that way. I was taught that even if you didn’t like an elder, they should at least be given a certain amount of credit for their life experience and the mere fact that they had managed to make it this far. They should also be cut some slack due to advanced age, and really, hadn’t they earned a break? But this seems to be a generational difference, and it’s a pity, because it allows people who are equally disrespectful to gain power because their behavior has been normalized. I mean, really, how else do you justify voting for someone who mocks a disabled person and brags about grabbing female private parts? This kind of thing is the reason I’m relieved not to be just starting out. The world is becoming increasingly inhospitable.

All this going through my head, and the overall message that I had willfully screwed up everything due to my many character flaws made it feel like my hand was being held over a hot flame. I have to admit that I lost it. And it wasn’t pretty. I was confused and hurt and disappointed, and I felt I was being tag teamed and not heard, and all my efforts to make them happy were being dismissed as trivial and insincere. I was also learning that their opinions of me, even down to my ability to pick trustworthy friends, were a lot more negative than I could have ever imagined. I felt attacked, so I responded in kind. The upshot was that I canceled the reservation and told them, basically, to f*** off and leave me alone.

But the last straw was when one of them used something that I had confided in them at the most vulnerable point in my life. They took that information and used it as evidence of a pattern that “proved” that I was in the wrong. Never mind that it was a false equivalence. It was a betrayal of trust. I shared something with them during my darkest hour, hoping for support and compassion, and instead it was stored away until it could be trotted out to compare apples to oranges and declare that this whole fruit salad of a situation was due entirely to a character flaw of mine, and that everything they had said was what I deserved. I was the villain and they were merely clutching their pearls as I spewed my hostile intentions at them. Because, yeah, that sounds like fun. Essentially, the information was weaponized against me, which, I have to admit, is a trait they come by honestly. They had been raised by someone who had that habit down to a science.

I was informed that I write off family when they don’t bend to my every need. (Again, I wish I had been informed of this while I was trying so hard to see them and accommodate their needs. All of this misunderstanding could have been avoided by just forgetting the whole thing. But it hadn’t occurred to me, because I was really looking forward to a chance to see them.)

Then they started insulting one of my friends, and out of thin air they decided that she just didn’t like their kids. (Mind you, my friend doesn’t even know those kids exist.) They then claimed that my request for a favor had turned into a demand because I tried to clarify my reasons for asking. That, and the assumption that a good friend of mine had some nefarious intentions based on no evidence whatsoever was painful to hear, because it made me feel like my judgment was questioned. Kind of like the polar opposite of “Any friend of Barb’s is a friend of mine.” It’s hard not to take something like that personally.

I was told that the fact that I haven’t visited since they’ve become adults, and I’ve taken other vacations, means that I don’t really care. Forget the fact that I’d done so dozens of times throughout their childhood, and I was hoping that as adults maybe they’d respond in kind or at a minimum would meet me half way. I actually thought they would want to see me as much as I had always wanted to see them.

All I was trying to do was to gather with loved ones to bear witness to what might possibly be the last solar eclipse I may ever get to see. In trying to achieve this dream of mine, it has become quite evident that I have bitten off more than I can chew. I don’t think I’ll ever take on such a multi-layered task again. Too many moving parts that can potentially slice me to ribbons.

As I learn about my autism, I’m starting to come to terms with the fact that I’ll always be misunderstood to some degree. It feels as if I’m sitting at the Mad Hatter’s tea party for all eternity. I just have to keep reminding myself that their lack of understanding doesn’t mean I should abandon what I know to be true about myself.

I do think of others. If anything, I think of them too much. I am generous and helpful and kind. I have amazing friends who appreciate me, a husband who loves me, and nothing makes me happier than helping others and trying to do nice things that are tailored specifically to the individuals in question. I have done my best to positively impact the world, through things like microloans and my little free library and by helping people get gainful employment. I do my best to take the high road, but I sometimes stumble along the way. I recycle. I floss.

I am so fact-driven by my autism that I’m rightfully shocked if I’m accused of being negatively motivated. I don’t really know how to be that way, and it doesn’t sound at all appealing. Do things blow up in my face? All the time. But to say that I’m trying to blow anything up is a bit much. Why would I do that? My attempts to connect may be ham-handed, but that doesn’t make me a pig.

My current goal is to focus on coming to terms with the fact that I have limitations, and I always will. It is really a lot better for me to keep things small and simple. Life is just too freakin’ short to try so desperately to please people who are so hellbent on questioning my motivations.

My recent autism diagnosis, too, has been weaponized against me. As I try and sort out what this means in my life, as I figure out what my needs are, and as I start giving those needs equal footing to everyone else’s needs, people are starting to chafe at the change. It was so much nicer for them when I was the only one who had to make accommodations. I was so good at bending myself into a pretzel for everyone else that even I didn’t realize what I was doing. Now that I know how much that cost me emotionally, I’m doing it less and less. I’m sticking up for myself instead of stuffing it all down. It seems that in doing so, the status quo is being shaken to its very core. The mistake I made was assuming that everyone loved me enough to be able to tolerate adjustments.

I hope I’ve learned this lesson, because I never want to feel this kind of pain again. This whole SNAFU made me realize how fragile bonds really are. I used to think that the norm was that most people have at least one person in their lives who has their back. I figured that those people that I’d go out of my way for, would do the same for me. Or, failing that, they’d at least appreciate the fact that I had done so.

I also thought that people who have known me for decades wouldn’t change their opinion of me so radically, in all but a split second. That doesn’t make sense to me. Could it be that they always held these opinions and I just didn’t see it? I hope not, but how would I know? Either way, it seems I have been weighed and found wanting. That makes me sad. I’ll miss being called the cool aunt.

Now I’m left wondering who, other than Dear Husband, to designate as my emergency contact on all medical forms. I’m also wondering who I can confide in when I am feeling low, without having to worry that the information will be used like a cudgel when I least expect it.

So, am I still planning to see the eclipse? Currently, I’m looking for an intimate little Airbnb for four, right in the path of the totality. I’ll also invite others to join us and find their own lodging. Anyone I love is welcome to come, but I’ll let them make their own plans.

I still have hope of being surrounded by love during that phenomenon. The circle may wind up being even smaller than I’d hoped, but it will be cherished even more because I’ve gained a deeper understanding of how precious and rare those bonds tend to be. If I’ve learned nothing else, it’s that one should never take good will and respect for granted.

If you get to see the solar eclipse in April, dear reader, please think of me kindly, and hope that wherever I may be, I’m with people who sincerely love and appreciate me for who I am. Imagine us, if you will, flying a kite in the dark, and creating a memory like no other, in the brief time we all have left.

I hope someday that someone on a lower branch of my family tree will stumble upon these blog posts and decide for themselves the kind of person I was, and what truly motivated me. But that’s a long shot. And I suppose that in the overall scheme of things, it really doesn’t matter.

Darkness can be seen as a lesson about the light. The sun will shine again, for all of us, and will continue to do so long after we’re gone, regardless of whether we’ve been deemed worthy by others or not. That’s the way of things. I, for one, am grateful that it’s beyond anyone’s control.