Autism & Patience

I have a weird relationship with  Autism and patience.

I have spent actual years helping Finian to tolerate having his nails cut without breaking a sweat.  My vital signs remain god-like.  I make Buddhists look like squabbling toddlers.  I am the tranquil eye of a raging tornado.  If I was any more Zen, I'd be mistakenly buried alive but would be far too chill to worry about it.

Until I get stuck on the motorway behind a car doing forty.  

Suddenly I'm a screaming virago invoking the gods to visit the driver's genitals with purulent infections.  I invite him to perform illegal sexual acts with his mother.  I wonder aloud if his head might comfortably occupy his descending colon.

At these moments, my car is no place for the Mild Mannered or small children.

Autism seems to bring out my inner ascended angel (Saint Jean of Monaghan Bog sounds holy, no?), while minor annoyances unleash my inner hellhounds.  

It's kinda comical that two such polarised aspects exist within the same personality.  But that's the truth of it...... it's not accurate to describe someone as "nice" or "impatient" or a million other adjectives, when really we can be any of those things, some of the time.  Moods don't say anything about who we are.  They just describe how we react in the moment.

When Finian is in full-throttle meltdown, I channel the calming power of the Dalai Lama meets Mother Theresa.  

Yet if someone chews with their mouth open, I make the Incredible Hulk look like Dipsy from the Teletubbies (in my head..... I'm far too passive aggressive to say anything out loud.  I chose to experience my rage internally where it can fester into a nice stomach ulcer or an interesting psychiatric disorder).  

Autism helped me notice that very different parts of my personality can exist quite comfortably together.  I don't know if this is a good thing or not, but it definitely helps me invent creative swear words.

bitch, don't make me slap you