Tag Archives: autism belief

Autism: In or Of the World

It isn’t something that bothers me until I share it with other people. “I am watching…” some supernatural movie, or something revolving around magic or something, and the response is… well, it is like I have done something really wrong. Something I should have known was wrong. And it leaves me questioning all that I do.

Summer 2015 011

It isn’t something that bothers me normally… except when it does. There are some movies, shows, or episodes that hit too close to things I believe are real – and they leave me with very real fears, and very real spiritual battles. “I am sorry, Lord,” I cry. “Please keep the evil far from me, and help me to avoid such things in the future.”

But the vampires, and monsters, and zombies that scared me so much as a child? I don’t believe in these. They no longer hold the power over me to leave me trembling in fear. And if I don’t believe in them, and am not afraid of them, why is it that these type of shows are ones that I will binge watch?

I don’t even like evil. In fact, my favourite part of those shows is when what is evil is somehow made good. While other characters don’t trust them, and won’t forget where they came from, I am thankful they are good. What they were is gone, and now… I like them now.

Mostly I think I watch these type of shows because they are so far from reality that I can just watch, and not be so tormented by the evil in them, for the evil isn’t real. I still enjoy the characters, though, and so it is an escape. And I think I learn from these characters who are so… emphatically themselves.

Then there is the magic. I don’t exactly believe such magic is real, or at least available for use, in this world; but I wish it were. Sometimes I really wish it were. As a Christian, I suppose this is a horrible thing to… admit??? wish for??? Both I suppose. Yet I do, and I would be lying if I said otherwise. Though technically I know that I don’t have access to this power (and conveniently forget while wishing for it that such an ability would have an evil side as well) I think that because I feel so very powerless in this word – in my abilities, in my disabilities, in my overwhelming exhaustion – I really do wish that I could make things happen with my mind, because I often cannot with my body.

You see, my thoughts, my imagination, my mind is capable of far more than I could ever do – so while I almost always fail in the practical part, if only I could take it straight from my thoughts, I could accomplish so very much. Plus it would be a lot of fun! And while I know that these things are impossible, while I watch there is hope that says, “maybe.”

Which brings me to ghosts. Do I believe in ghosts? No… yes… I don’t know. While I have never seen a ghost, I have been around death enough to have seen that what was once there no longer is. So my question at each death is: “Where did they go?” It is an overwhelming fixation. Perhaps it is wrong, and sometimes it is scary, and mostly the shows are so fake that they are ridiculous, and still I watch them. Because maybe someday, sometime, someone will stumble upon an answer. Where do the animals go? Where do the children go? Christians go to Heaven – I believe this – but what is life after death for everyone else (My heart breaks for the lost, over and over: Where do they go?) It is an obsession. Wrong? Maybe – but my fixations and obsessions serve the purpose of helping me to think, and helping me to calm, and they are really hard to let go.

I know these things are escapes for me. The pain of the world lies heavy on my heart and mind, and sometimes… often, it becomes too much, and I have to escape. So I do; into worlds and imaginations, and abilities that are beyond what is available in real life. So the question that comes into my heart and mind at the response other people have when I tell them what I have been watching: Am I in the world, or of it, and is my faith therefore in danger? I would answer, “None of these.” In these moments where I am watching these shows, being in the world is too much for me – I certainly don’t want to be of it. What I want… what I truly want, is to go “home,” and the only way to get there is through faith.

Meanwhile I exist in a world that is often way too much for me, and I have to escape. I have to. And I pray that will be understood.


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Autism: Why Hasn’t She Come?

It has been six days, and it amazes me, in a sad sort of way, how quickly life goes on. My grandmother is gone. My grandmother is gone! For nearly forty years, she has been a strong part of my life. Even while I have lived so far away, I have thought of her, and missed her most every day – and my plans to return home have always included anticipation in seeing her.

How do we reorganize our lives and move on, when what was true every day for twenty, forty, sixty years, will never be the same? The very fact that I can find joy in the moment, without her, makes me sad.

I was expecting her to visit me in my dreams. Since the death of my “Uncle” Sam, when I was eight years old, I have dreamed of those who have passed very quickly after they were taken from the world. Even people who were not that close to me, played some part in my dreams, though I more saw them than spoke to them.

Yet it has been six days, and nothing – and that, too, makes me very sad.

There have been times I have felt her with me in these days – when I was at church, and wondered what she would have thought over the songs and the message (would my faith affect her belief?) When I was walking through my house, our out along the trail, thinking of her – is she finally able to see my home? (For she was never able to travel here since I moved so far away, and she never did see where I lived, even when I got married.)

Since it is the physical that I feel so strongly traps me in distance especially, I feel at times that the absence of the physical body would provide so much more freedom in that sense (like when I am dreaming, and am able to fly to other parts of the world, and visit people in my dreams.) I obviously don’t know the truth in this, but it does give me some peace that my grandma might be able to visit me now.

So why hasn’t she? Perhaps when I feel her with me, she actually is… maybe? But if she would come to me in my dreams, I could talk to her. I could see her. I might know then… is she upset with me? Is she hurt that I didn’t visit her when I knew she was sick? Is she angry with me for something?


And my mind, which obsesses over these things, continues to wonder why she hasn’t visited me (when everyone else has. So I pray, please tonight, Lord, let my grandma come to me in my dreams.


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