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Give out - don’t give in

 


You know those times when you feel mildly discombobulated and you can’t quite work out why? So you start looking for discombobulation triggers because although ‘discombobulated’ is a jolly fun word to say, as a feeling it sits there alongside being aware of that seam from your thick woolly tights that you are sitting on, or wishing you’d popped into that loo you passed fifteen minutes ago because you know you’ll get fidgety at an inconvenient moment. Or that feeling when you know you’ve forgotten to do something, but you’re not quite sure what. 

After some serious thought I believe my discombobulations are triggered by one of the following:

1) talking to someone and realising you are being ignored in favour of a TV, phone, other electronic device of their choice. Or they are hearing you, but completing ignoring your input to the conversation

2) things not being where they should be e.g supermarkets moving stuff around on shelves, scissors being in the wrong drawer, stuff like that

3) being asked to do something on a particular day or at a certain time, then having those requests changed at the eleventh hour when I’ve organised my life to accommodate

4) being taken for granted. A personal perception, of course. How does one know if they are taking someone for granted?

5) rules being made for no obvious reason. Rules changing for no obvious reason

Actually, re-reading these triggers I am seriously thinking that I am more firmly on the autistic spectrum than I have previously suspected. Seriously. I have all the signs - resistance to change, need to know what I am doing and when, need to be organised and in control, zero spontaneity...

I digress...

So this morning I cooked up some more apples for dolloping on breakfasts, turning into crumble etc, took three phone calls, two of them extensive, made a large pot of leek and potato soup, did a bit more Christmas shopping - I’ve pretty much finished now, don’t hate me (!) - and danced around the kitchen because Radio 2 is playing music from the 80s all day which is marvellous because we all know that ‘80s music is THE BEST. I also spent a silly amount of time looking on-line for a hoodie. Suddenly, I fancy to own a hoodie. Don’t ask me why, but it’s got to be the right one and so far I’ve viewed about 3,000 and they are mostly wrong. Autistic traits, see?

And then I took myself into the Zen Den for a spot of thinking, especially about this mild feeling of discombobulation and wham! All of a sudden the words ‘Give Out - Don’t Give In’ came into my head. And the idea that the best way to deal with ANY form of discombobulation is to strive to Give Out Happiness and avoid Giving In to Feelings of Discombobulation! 

Well! This is going to be bloody hard work, isn’t it? But making the effort to Give Out Happiness is an investment in ourselves, isn’t it? We all know how lovely it feels to do something nice for someone else, don’t we? Okay, maybe if you’re a narcissistic psychopath with zero empathy, you don’t, but generally I think we’ve all experienced that fuzzy feeling you get after Giving Out. And by Giving Out, surely it follows that we aren’t Giving In? 

 I’m going to give this a try. I’m going to up my efforts to Give Out Happiness! No agenda, no expectations. I’m sorry if this post hasn’t made an awful lot of sense, but it has made me feel better writing it all down. 

Also, is the opposite of discombobulation combobulation? 

Also, if Cinderella’s shoe fitted so perfectly, how come it fell off in the first place? 

Comments

Anonymous said…
You know what, I think you are on to something. I have had a bit of a crummy week for no reason. Feeling I perhaps were a bit too sensitive to certain emails or what ever. Couldn’t turn it around so just lived with it. I wonder if I had applied giving out if that would have helped. I’ll certainly try to remember this for next time.
KJ
Denise said…
I’m prepared to give it a shot, KJ. Of course, this time next week I may well regret my wild proclamation. But then again, I might not...🤔
aileen g said…
I would like to say that you do give a lot of joy (not sure if that is the same as happiness in your definition but never mind) to a lot of people with your writing. You might argue that you write mainly for yourself and that is a good thing but it might be that by writing to make yourself happy, and then sharing your stories, you really are spreading happiness.
Eldest was diagnosed 3 years ago as being on the spectrum at the age of 38 after a number of years of turmoil and I must admit I recognised a lot of myself in some of the traits. The psychologist however said that the diagnosis is a lot more involved than just a liking for routine and organisation, and ticking boxes on a list of traits. He said that many people will be able to apply some, or even all, of the traits to themselves at certain times. Youngest and I both identify as introverts on the Myers-Briggs scale and I think some people equate this with being on the spectrum. Funnily enough, eldest comes out as extravert (the same as their father) on the same questions although they do struggle with certain social situations. I'm not sure any of us fit neatly in the boxes (thank goodness) - and yes, you can be "combobulated".
Denise said…
Oh, thank you Aileen, for your lovely words about my writing! Since writing this post I’ve done a couple of online tests for autism and have come out strongly borderline on both, ticking many of those ubiquitous boxes, with advice for further testing. I shan’t follow this line because I’m happy with how I am. But it was a very interesting and eye opening exercise. As a teacher, I’ve worked with many autistic youngsters and often thought I knew where they were coming from. I’m an introvert, too - and teaching is very much geared towards extroverts these days, which I think is a sad thing. Us introverts have a lot to offer! As you say, what’s the benefit of fitting in a box? Unless you are a cat, of course. Cats are weirdly fond of boxes, even ones they don’t fit!
Anonymous said…
I shall try harder to not be a pain xxxxx
Denise said…
Anonymous, I am sure you aren’t a pain. Honest.

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