Asperger’s / autism and shame…

Ah, the inner life of the spectrum…

the silent wave

This morning, I realized I had lost my keys.

This isn’t the first time.

In a furious combination of panic and extreme annoyance, I tornadoed through the apartment…flipping over pillows and blankets…knocking clutter out of the way…emotional torrent rising quickly with each failed effort.  This Aspie is prone to that.

The usual, predictable inner-disciplinarian came to life, in its “outdoor” voice.

How could I be so careless?  How could I be so stupid?

I retraced my steps…to no avail.

It doesn’t help that I remember announcing to my partner that I had them with me, in my jacket pocket, as I stepped out of the apartment last night.  (Thus, verifying that my keys were indeed with me, and not somewhere in the apartment.)

It doesn’t help that I only visited one “sitting place”, where I spent two and a half hours talking with a friend (yes, on the phone!), as…

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