I digress, the point is that there was a caption made and my name was shoved in there and it elicited a series of lovely feelings, because that is how easily influenced I am.
|None of this though.|
No, I don't get it either.
I'm hairier on the legs. Also, that hand position...
Can't say I recognise it. But, then, I get the impression
that I am somewhat abnormal in this regard.
More after the break, but no images.
Which beings me, in part, to some of the bad in this entry. If I were hoping for a change in attitudes from Tilly to the whole aspect of sex I was to be disappointed. I was not, however, so I can simply say that I am justified in my generally downbeat thoughts. Voluntarily, this time, I am on the sofa again to allow for more comfortable feeding and bed-sharing. We tried sharing a bed but my alarms were annoying enough that it makes more sense not to wake Tilly with them. A request to talk about sex in the same way we discuss politics (that is, academically) was rebuffed and I am not certain that will change. I am reminded that in all of our time together we have never really discussed things, despite my best efforts, and every compromise reached has been ignored and we've gone back to the starting positions once again.
Case in point: children. I made it clear, on numerous occasions, that I did not wish for a third child. I even counselled abortion and I am not a fab of using that procedure. I realise that the decision was not mine in the latter case but the the former was ignored. I took part in that, being an easy dupe and generally a bit shit, but the fact remains that I was moving toward the condom when asked not to. That I acceded to the request is arguably the most damning indictment of my supine stupidity available. I am now of the opinion that I don't actually want to have sex with Tilly again, what is the point? I don't get much from it and it's never been about me or my desires. I mean, I could probably argue it's never been about her or her desires either, to be fair, and so I come back to: what is the point? I get more from my, frankly, strange masturbatory methods and I can do that with little input. Getting all wound up and upset over the fact that we've never shared a shower, for example, is ridiculous. For one, we never will share a shower in that sense, it's not going to happen. Bathing together is a bad joke and will never happen. That sort of playful interaction has never been a feature nor will ever be a feature of our relationship. On the one side there is Tilly's refusal to countenance such actions and, on the other, my AS-inspired inability to make them mean anything emotionally to anyone but me.
In short, I cannot supply an emotional connection to physical actions nor the requisite feeling from compliments verbal and otherwise, so there is little expectation of any physical interaction that would be anything more than mechanical. I cannot provide for a more emotionally connected physical or verbal interaction, nor can I comfort and empathise, so what is the point? Stop trying to do that which I cannot, that which Tilly has repeatedly said she no longer expects me to provide, and let everything else take its course. That will mean no sex for the foreseeable and that which we do have will remain robotic and unsatisfying to both of us. She won't sleep with other people and neither will I. Her through choice and me through the fact that I am no good at social interaction. The idea of me being attractive enough to anyone else (physically or emotionally) is so laugh-out-loud ridiculous at this point I daren't or my fat-enhanced stomach won't stop rolling for weeks.
Thus to the final section in the soup of shit in which I swim. I don't actually like my daughter. She's been sneaking sugary snacks of a morning, resulting in increasingly unhinged displays of stupidity, for some time. She's basically been stealing stuff from her brother and mother and been getting away with it for a while. Coupled with her own aspie tendencies this has meant that she has simply not been carrying out simple tasks such as keeping her room at a modicum of tidiness to not attract rats or maintaining her bag for dance etc. The long and the short of it is that she lied to me to my face and then has continued to do so ever since. Tilly has got to the bottom of things, displaying just how deep the lying to me goes, and she, my daughter, continues to lie. I'll be honest, I have no idea what to do here.
The blame for this cannot fall on my daughter, by the way, she is raised with these things and not born with them. I must assume the mantle of blame, inasmuch as any can be assigned, because I am the adult in the relationship and she operates within the parameters that I have set around that relationship. In other words, her lying to me is a choice that she felt she could make based on the fact that I provided lying as an option.
Nevertheless, when talking to Tilly about this I am often met with statements that I am the same and asked what I expect when I have gifted all of our children with aspie-ness. I am reminded that I tell Tilly not to get too angry by being told that I am out of order or that I am worse in the behaviour being displayed and that is why I am angry. I was told that I lied worse than my daughter to my wife, yes she was referring to cross-dressing, on multiple occasions and much more insidiously and nastily than my daughter lies to me. I was told that I react worse when challenged as I lash out and say things that are reprehensible whereas at least our daughter only moves to meaningless apologies. I was told that I was more prone to do nothing and do little in the way of jobs around the house like tidying up than my daughter.
Keep in mind that we've now got a friend round to do the cleaning once a fortnight and that, since the birth of our third child, it's been me doing the washing and drying as well as making lunches for everyone every morning before leaving for work. I still do the chinchilla and the pots, by the way, and now add the garden to that list since getting a lawn-mower last year. I'm not saying I do more than my fair share, or even my share, of the work around the house but I resent the idea that I am so ineffective that nothing matters. Maybe nothing does.
This is precisely what I predicted would happen with a third child. It was what Tilly set out to refute when trying to get me to agree to having a third child by telling me that things would be different. They are not. It is as I predicted. And, because I am a shit parent, I don't actually like my eldest.
I've said it before, ad nauseam, and my own culpability won't stop me saying it again: I did not want things to turn out the way they have. Mistake has compounded on mistake has compounded on mistake. It is not just that I feel as though my views have been irrelevant it is that my views have actually been irrelevant. I didn't want a pet but we got one, and I wanted a pet that wouldn't still be alive in five years, our pet is eleven and counting. I didn't want a first child but we had one, and I didn't really want to have a third but we had that too. I asked for changes in sex and compromised on dressing up in 2014 and now it is three years on and no moves have been made in that direction. Despite a thaw where we almost made it to the average of twice a year sexy times we're now rapidly retreating from that and are unlikely to push it back.
Back when Tilly was dumping me for my behaviour in a club (I hid and then got defensive when she tried to drag me onto the dance floor - and by defensive I mean rude) I should have let her do it. I could have wallowed a bit in self-pity and cried a bit, then thrown myself back into work. I would still have savings, I would still have a small car, I would most likely still live in Leeds. Two less autistic children would be in the world and Tilly would have been happier with someone who was more emotionally open and effective. I'd still be lonely, but I see the trouser-hole of time variant as having a net-improved result.
It's why I'm not a fan of It's a Wonderful Life because if you took me out of the frame as they do with thingummy in that film you would end up with a better life for everyone involved.