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fallenhero-rebirth · 4 years

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Brain update

First, let me say that this isn't about what anybody has done. My reactions are not in proportion to anything that has happened, and might be considered odd, weird and sensitive to people involved.

So let me explain.

I'm an Aspie (what we call ourselves in Sweden), on the autism spectrum. Yeah, might have guessed that from the story I'm writing, Sidestep is not the only one trying to figure out how people work.

Over the years I have built up an arsenal of knowledge and analysis to be able to pretend to be neurotypical, something that I can manage alright most days, but which breaks down once you get to know me better. I'm open with this at my current job, and luckily both my bosses seem to be okay dealing with open communication and just telling me what I need to do.

It was not always like this, and that is one of the reasons why I had a breakdown and needed to get off discord/tumblr.

Back in the late nineties, I had finally got my dream job. I was a product developer in the food industry, part of a rather small department of middle-class academics. I was the new hire, everyone else had worked there for years, and things were going well. Or so I assumed. I got cool projects, got along well with one of the sales people, and well, my boss was weird but bosses always are.

Three years later. Our parent company wanted to sell us off, everyone was starting to get worried about their job. We tried to expand into things were weren't equipped to do (you don't bring spices into a fruit jam line, will be hell to clean) and while I did the projects, I also raised an (in retrospect) too big stink about the fact that we were wasting time developing things we couldn't produce without expanding. My boss (who I had learned was a devout christian) started to get really weird, I got called in and he wondered if I was a member of a cult (I was often wearing a headscarf at the time because pressure on my head is good for stress relief). I also got told off for wearing army boots to work (we had lab shoes in the lab), because (I kid you not) if we had danish visitors to the lab (we didn't have visitors) they could be offended since they had once been occupied by Nazis. Yes, at the time I was an Antifa metalhead/satanist, it was a very volatile time in sweden and nazis were everywhere. Now they're a political party, go figure.

It all came to a head when I was confronted with a folder one of the secretaries of the department had where she had written down every odd and strange thing that I did, and there were a lot of accusations of things I quite frankly blocked out. Around this time I was suffering from bad burnout, had memory loss, my hair was falling out and I lost two bikes because I forgot where I parked them. All because of workplace hostility.

So for the first time ever, I went to the company doctor, who immediately sent me on a one month sick leave, and gave a reference to a therapist. When I went and told my boss, his reaction was "It can't be anything at work," in a dismissive tone. I wrote my resignation right then and there, left the building, snuck back a Saturday to clean out my stuff so I didn't have to meet anyone. Luckily I was backed up by my union, so I got unemployment despite quitting, and the therapist helped me get back on my feet and hook me up with some antidepressants.

Still, I was a wreck for years.

At the time, I had NO idea I was an Aspie. It weren't talked about, the only thing I knew about Autism, was from the various portrayals in movies, and well, in the nineties you can guess. Rainman pretty much was it.

What destroyed me the most was not that people disliked me, I didn't like them either, we didn't have anything in common, and middle-class people always scared me. No, what broke me was the fact that my system failed.

See, I had built up myself over ten years into someone I wanted to be. Smart. Capable. Metalhead. Researcher. Activist. I thought I knew the rules. How to interact.

It turned out I knew nothing. People had been talking behind my back for years, and I didn't know. Getting annoyed by my ticks, and I had no idea. Nobody ever brought anything up to my face until it exploded one day out of the blue. This is why I have ranted about anons on this tumblr. This is why I have been so openly against passive aggressive posts and bullying, especially the anonymous kind, because it destroys people and I don't think the people who does it knows the impact they can have. I hope they don't.

I have never gone back to the lab. I can't. I'm having heart palpitations just thinking about it when I'm writing this. I retrained. Became a machinist. Back to the working class I came from. Eventually started writing.

And this is exactly what these last months have felt like.

I thought I understood things. I was pretty open with being old, an Aspie, not understanding memes, or humor, or tik tok, or certain aspects of people's behavior like jealousy, but the problem with joking about this is that it's so easy to take as just a joke. That I'm just making fun of myself (oh it's that too). I got advice from some of you, which I ignored, because I thought that I could be different. That there was no danger in getting close. That I could be just another voice in the crowd. An occasionally evil avocado. That this couldn't blow up in my face, that everything was cool.

And then it did. And I was wrong. And the talking started, and things were coming out that I had no idea that was going on. That I was being held responsible for. Opinions that were spoken in my name. Events I was supposed to have been aware of and supported. All of a sudden I was omniscient, aware of the true passive aggressive meaning of every reblog, aware of every post in every room in the discord I wasn't even running. Wasn't even a mod on. All of a sudden I had power, and I had used it to hurt people. The people I cared about. Everything I wrote was taken in the worst possible way, twisted into things I never meant, and the more I tried to talk to people, the worse it went.

Look. I know this was at heart a war between people that just doesn't like each other and the things they do/the ways they behave. I'm still not entirely sure who's been involved, and I'm not interested in finding out. I tried to build a supportive space, reblog everyone's art and fics, encourage people to make their own things, get a kofi, get some money, make some friends.

And herein lies my problem.

I thought I understood how to be, and now I don't. I have no idea who hates my guts and who doesn't (well, except some who has very vocally let me know). I can't trust anything. I can't trust anyone. And it sucks. Someone I trusted stabbed be in the back because they were convinced I stabbed them in the back and that sucks more than I can describe. Every time I make a comment on AO3 or twitter it's after psyching myself up for half an hour, and I'm usually a wreck afterwards, because my brain doesn't know if they hate me too, and if I am imposing on them and making their day bad.

So yeah. I need to figure out how to be. How not to have a nausea attack every time I accidentally click open tumblr from pure reflex, looking away from the screen just not to see how may messages I have.

I never wanted to be the aloof author, but maybe I have to be. The question is if I can. I have been told I can't comment on pics or fics, because then I have favorites. And that makes people jealous. And it makes people think I take sides. I have been told I can't be on the discord, because then I will be held responsible for what the mods do there, and everything that's said even when I'm not around. I should apparently have someone manage the tumblr, it's not something that I, an author should do.

I now understand the authors who just stay away and remain distant, because people give themselves the power to write the narrative for you.

Part of me wants to tell people what I've told my current bosses, don't assume, just talk to me. I don't pick up/do passive aggression, I don't understand hints, I have trouble with nuance, I don't listen to gossip, I don't interact enough to know anything that's going on. Just ask before assuming.

Except that right now I can't. I can't talk about any of this. It's too close. It sets me off. It's getting better, sure, I'm on medication again, but the smallest thing still can ruin my entire day. I have no idea how long it will take me to recover and come back to some semblance of normality. I'm not posting this myself (my partner does). Writing is going well, because it lets me not be myself. I need those walls again. The therapy of writing about pain.

I'll rebuild them. I'm not entirely sure who I'll be on the other end of it. We'll see.

I have consciously not spoken about any details because those could be misunderstood, this is not a passive aggressive callout to anybody. I have no hard feelings towards anyone, I am not angry or upset, just confused and sad. I am truly so very, very, very sorry that I've hurt people, both by action and inaction. It was never my intention. I will do my best to do better in the future.

Still working on how to do that.

#personal

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rallis-fatalis · 4 years

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The Bookman’s Book

While cleaning up after his rambunctious student Rallis, Reldo stumbles upon a secret project she had been hiding from him.

The door to the Varrock palace library quietly creaked open as the resident librarian Reldo slid inside. He just as quietly shut the door and leaned against it with a sigh of relief. He finally had peace and quiet, even if only for a little while. He had just dropped Rallis off at Thessalia’s shop for more sewing practice. She was getting far too bored and cooped up to pay attention to his lessons and jumped at the idea to get out of the stuffy library to practice something she actually enjoyed. And so here Reldo was, taking in his sweet freedom in the peace and quiet of his library without a bouncy blue dragon getting underfoot. He was ready to pour himself a drink and relax, but unfortunately it seemed the world didn’t think he had earned a break just yet.

Books were strewn about all across the floor, some stacked in precariously wobbly piles that were just begging to fall over, and others left open and waiting for one wrong step to shred the open pages. Rallis’ corner of the floor was littered with writing practice, crumpled papers, and leagues of broken pencil bits. Unfinished drawings spilled out of her drawing folder and broken tips of colored pencils were ground into the floor. The library looked as if a storm tore through and ransacked the place.

Reldo groaned and got to work cleaning his student’s mess.

A good while passed and the library was tidy once more. It wasn’t a difficult task by any means, but it was a tedium he hadn’t wanted and shouldn’t have needed to do. “Next time I’m not letting her leave until she cleans her mess,” Reldo grumpily muttered. He held the last few books that needed to be filed away, the final remnants of the mess Rallis made. He quickly found their spots on the shelf and tried to put them away only to find they wouldn’t all fit. Something that shouldn’t have been there was getting in the way. He huffed and put down the books to get rid of whatever was getting in the way of his relaxation time. Awkwardly wedged in the empty space on the bookshelf was a book, but it was no book he had ever laid eyes on before. It wasn’t uniformly cut like the rest, nor did it even have a hard durable cover. It was rather bent from being scrunched in its hidey hole between the books. He straightened it out and looked it over.

“‘My Advenchurs With Bookman,’” he read the title aloud. “What on Gielinor?” He flipped open the cover, a series of miscut papers pasted together to try and make something thicker than a regular page. What greeted him was an assault on the senses, crude drawings colored in with saturated bright splotches and penmanship quality akin to that of a five year old’s. The child-like doodles and chicken scratch writing gave away the book’s creator instantly.

“I can’t believe Rallis tried to make a book.” Reldo flipped through and saw it actually had a decent amount of writing content inside, quite a surprise given how much she hated even the simple act of holding a pencil. His curiosity got the better of him and he took the book over to his chair to sit down and have a peek. He opened to the first page to find what he assumed was supposed to be a drawing of himself. It was a cartoonish depiction with an equally cartoonish frown. The colors bled out from their confines of the drawing lines and smudged across parts of the paper.

“This iz bookman,” the book said. “His nam iz Reldo but I coll him bookman.”

Rallis had a habit of writing her letters far too large, so that was all that could fit on the first page. Reldo turned the page and noticed the drawing was a bit smaller this time to give more room for the words.

“He teechs me how to spell and rit and reed but I am not varee gud.” The book showed a drawing of a still rather grumpy-looking Reldo holding a book up to a very unhappy-looking blue dragon-shaped splotch. Even in drawn blob form the librarian could recognize Rallis easily. Even in her book she looked antsy and bored of his teachings. He turned to the next page.

“I doo not lik riteng but I lik it wen wee reed. Bookman haz gud storees. I lik too lissin.” The writing was accompanied by a rather adorable picture of Reldo reading to Rallis. Above them were pictures of some of the things he would tell her about. There was some kind of armored bird, which he presumed to be an aviansie, fighting a demon, obviously meant to be part of the God Wars. There was a human figure with a big blue circle in their hands. Arrav with his shield perhaps? There were other drawings on the page but he couldn’t decipher their meaning. Even still, he found the beginning of a smile form, knowing that she at least remembered some of the things he talked about, even if it didn’t seem so at the time.

The next page held a scene he still dreaded to this day: the day he took Rallis to the Varrock museum for the first time. There she was, perched on the glass case of the mole exhibit trying to chase and play with the mechanical mole inside. Gods, he remembered her reaction to the dragon exhibits that came next and had to physically hold her back from smashing the displays open to free the animatronic beasts. The poor librarian received quite the talking to by the museum staff and palace royals alike from the event. He banned her from visiting the place again until she learned to behave and they had a long lesson about mechanical and stuffed creatures. It wouldn’t do for her to freak out over every stuffed dragon head in a tavern in the world after all. He forgot to read what she had written. He was so eager to turn the page and cease reliving the memory.

The next page had substantially better writing than the previous. The art style was also slightly cleaner, though still very amateurish and cartoony. The drawing was mostly different shades of brown, but Reldo could make out the crude depiction well enough. It was the Varrock Digsite! Rallis loved that place more than anything, always eager to help dig up artifacts and have an excuse to get covered in dirt and mud ‘in the name of learning.’

“Bookman takes me too the dig spot a lot and I like it a lot. I like too dig and lern. Wen he teechs me thair I am veree happee and hee is too.” The next page had no words, just pictures of the two of them with their interesting finds at the Digsite and of some of the things she remembered him teaching her. There was a whole page reserved for all the Zarosian things they had found. She had been so excited to find the shrine beneath the Digsite, or the ‘underground god circle’ as she kept calling it, and her excitement was apparent in the drawing. Her lines were more shaky that usual. His smile grew a bit wider as he continued on.

The book continued with more adventures the two of them had, from simple things he taught her to exciting trips in town or events in the nearby areas. Reldo couldn’t help but smile and even laugh at some of the things she kept track of, like the time she decided hopping the Varrock rooftops was a good idea and slipped on someone’s clothesline and into an ill-fitting set of clothing she couldn’t get off, making her look like a fluffed up polka-dotted hen. Or like the time she learned what catnip was and covered herself in it, hoping to make friends with all the strays in Varrock. She did in fact accomplish that, but at the cost of hundreds of cats running wild in the Varrock palace. The two of them spent the rest of the day herding the cats outside and cleaning all the fur, lest the king’s allergies act up too much.

Reldo turned to the next page to find a picture of the two of them holding hands and smiling. It was a simple piece, but it was very sweet. “I want to hav moar advenchurs with my bookman,” the caption said. And then the story ended. There were a handful of pages left after that one, but they all appeared to be blank. Waiting for a good story, perhaps. Reldo closed the book and gave the cover an affectionate pat before placing it under some larger heavier books. It had gotten rather bent from being stuffed in the bookshelf, he might as well do the courtesy of straightening the thing out. With that, he dimmed the lights and leaned back in his chair to get some rest before he needed to pick Rallis up from across town.

A few days had passed since Reldo had found Rallis’ handmade book. He had forgotten all about it amidst the chaos of trying to teach the dragon while Varrock was preparing for a festival. Eventually the day of the festival proper came and the two went out for a day of snacks and fun. When they returned to the library, thoroughly exhausted from an entire day of play, Reldo helped find an out-of-the way place for Rallis to keep her new things. While he was occupied with that, Rallis stealthily crept over to one of the bookcases and reached her hand behind some of the books. She felt around for something, but she could not feel what she was looking for. She chirped in confusion and pulled some of the books away. There was nothing behind them but the wood of the bookcase. Rallis squawked in horror and began to frantically tear apart the shelf, tossing books every which way.

Reldo ran over at the commotion and sputtered in horror. “Rallis what are you doing?! Stop!” He pried her away from the bookcase and stood between it and her. She was very clearly upset about something, her ears drooped and her eyes were about to go red from tears. “What in the name of the gods has gotten into you?! Don’t destroy my library!”

“Something is gone!” Rallis cried. “Something that I put there! I need it!”

“What is it?” Reldo asked.

Rallis’ face dusted pink and she looked at the floor. “It’s something of mine.” She didn’t elaborate.

Reldo walked over to his desk and lifted the pile of heavy books. He slid her handwritten book out from underneath and held it out to her. “Is it this?”

Rallis screeched and her entire face went red. She snatched it from his hands and hugged it against her chest and turned around. She gave the book a once over to make sure it was okay and was thankful to find it alright. She then glared at the librarian. “Why do you have this?!”

“I found it a few days ago,” he explained. “It was wedged in the bookshelf and I couldn’t put my books away. You really should be thanking me for finding it, the poor thing was curled and creased from the abuse it received on its perch upon my shelf. I flattened it out, good as new.” Rallis still wasn’t happy, continuing her glare. “You know, I wouldn’t have found that if you had only cleaned up after yourself. May this be a lesson to keep your things cleaned and sorted if you wish to hide a secret!”

Rallis ducked her head in shame and sat down in a huff on the floor. She brushed her hand across the cover of her book. “You didn’t read it, did you?”

“What if I did?”

Rallis groaned in embarrassment. She let out a long upset whine. “It was gonna be a sir-prize! When it was done! But you found it early!”

“A surprise?”

“Yeah! For you, dummy! Like a thank you for teaching me. But it’s not done and you’re not s’post to see it yet!”

“O-Oh,” Reldo stammered. “It’s a present?” Rallis nodded angrily and huffed again. Now he felt bad. No one ever deigned to give him anything resembling a present as it was, and this one seemed to be very special to Rallis. It obviously meant a lot to her and he had messed up rather royally. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I could pretend I never found it?”

Rallis frowned at his suggestion. It seemed lying like that wouldn’t sit well with her.

“Well, if I can’t unread it, and if I can’t pretend to unread it, would you like me to help you with it? I could help you spell some things, if you’d like.”

She thought his idea over and flipped through her book. She gave the book a small smile once she reached the end and rose from the floor. “Okay. You can help. That way it’s like another adventure! I was gonna write about today, but there’s so much to write about I don’t know what to pick!”

“Why don’t we think about it while cleaning up the mess you just made,” Reldo said and motioned to the books scattered across the floor. Rallis smiled in embarrassment and began to stack the books for sorting. The two talked about what to write while they put the shelf back in order and spent the rest of the evening writing about the day. Eventually, Reldo bid her a good night and shuffled off to his own room within the castle, leaving Rallis to continue her drawing in peace.

She looked over her shoulder to make sure he was actually gone before flipping to the last page, her current one unfinished, and began to write. “Thank yoo for beeng the best bookman,” she wrote. “And for beeng my frend.” She signed the page with a “Love, Rallis,” and closed the book. She gave a huge yawn and bunched her pencils together to put them away. She would have to finish the adventure of the day some other time. She was far too tired from the excitement of today to focus any longer. She went over to her box in the corner of the room and fished out her pillow and blanket and curled under the desk with them to go to sleep, her handmade book in her arms held close like a toy to sleep with. She fell asleep with a smile, eager to see what adventures she would have with her bookman tomorrow.

#oc tag #my writes #osrs #runescape

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