Totally the wrong time for all of this... like usual.

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Massive venting follows. You likely don't want to read that far, there is a "TL;DR" at the end, if that'll help?

This quite frankly sucks.

Early July, I have to literally drop everything and head back across half the State to go back to the family home, my grandmother had passed away. I had to fight the older generation of my family to view my grandmothers body in state, to speak a eulogy, and to view the will for legal purposes as the representative of my generation, as I was the only one whom it was felt was up to the task.

Actually, my sister and favourite cousin knew I'd go complete meltdown if I didn't get what is normally a family members automatic right, never mind the eldest and once most favoured grandson before the proverbial hit the fan in the Family Court five years ago.

And the horrible secrets that tumbled out of the woodwork? The threats disguised as job offers? Family members claiming they'll spend exorbitant amounts of money one day, begging poor the next when the funeral bill came in? The begging of my former townsfolk - once people I would've done anything for, now I cannot feel anything for them - to save them from the closure of the local power station and its associated coal mines, replacing them with renewable energy baseload assurance research I had started in 2003 with the first nuclear physicist I'd worked for, refining it over successive technical research tenures - "Your people are begging you to return - to lead us..." Appointment to orate for the Party, you name it, the whole nine yards, the trimmings and the extra sugary icing on top... my "old life" back.

And the very last chance to get it back.

I said NO.

Besides, it was freezing!

The Valley still has so many bad memories... and theres still so much bad blood down there. I ain't no Goddamned politician, nor can I be - no one likes an honest pollie, just ask JFK.

And my life still sounds like a very badly written James Bond movie script.

When I got back, I turned my phone off, I stopped speaking with old friends who had badly disrespected me and my grief and went total non-contact with them, and I deactivated my Facebook. All this after publicly announcing that I had permanently retired for work on contractual basis for the general scientific community as my final "Screw you!" to this generation of scientists, a pure caricature of the gentlemen I worked for ten to fifteen years ago now all deceased, those Deans, those Senior Department Lecturers... men of science, who Made Stuff Work (TM).

My next option - to starve, and slowly. In an old, leaking, falling apart caravan, the best I could do when the Family Court took me to the dry cleaners.

I had a thought for a new career put in my head when I got back, it was found I have faced something that usually kills the most mentally strong of people all alone, and my health has been in the toilet since 1996. Twenty one years. The exact moment my health went down the drain was the exact moment I stopped a certain activity I've spoken of in these parts, in another section.

So would anyone like to explain to me, given I've just gone through Hell, had most of what I had left kicked out of me, a phone call from my sister yesterday pretty much almost dropped me on the floor of a shop in the regional centre, I had to hold back the tears as she told me a close family friend I'd spoken to the day before my Nan's funeral had suddenly passed on last week, and that she had done the impossible - she believes shes expecting another child, even though she told me that after my niece, it would likely never happen... I'm getting sucker punched emotionally, left, right, and in the back of the head...

And what I thought was merely annoying before, that my stupid pattern based savant mind had worked out 1.677 incidents every month for twelve years from October 2005 till the beginning of this year, now its in multiple incidents every single week, and not only increasing, but other people are noticing it now, I'm not quite as insane as I once thought, which has passed my awareness as a distinct possibility on far too many occasions...

"You should be open to possibilities, you know. Don't close up..."

The man who told me that three days after the funeral had threatened me the night before, while offering me a job.

He was talking about letting someone into my life. A distinct possibility that I am against now more than ever, as I have to deal with the fallout of what has happened to me for nearly 35 years that I am only now starting to understand in the wake of events I know I am not equipped to deal with, nor have I ever been, totally on my own. I simply hold no trust for any other person left alive to help me with this, the last one I put in the ground early July.

Except turning down multiple women every single week in pure fear is wearing me down emotionally, never mind I'm pretty stuffed to begin with. The last has just broken me.

She reminded me (in appearance only) of my estranged mother, the one that never loved me. But she was everything I wanted my birth mother to be. I wanted to scream, right there and then in the Officeworks, but I fought it, and responded normally, as she did all that usual "indicators of interest" stuff, kept qualifying herself to me, told me exactly where she was going camping this weekend, almost melted like butter when I mentioned I had a fond love of BBQ'ing a rainbow trout in the morning after spotlighting it and spearing it the night before (I wasn't always a technician, I was originally raised in the bush, on the land). I didn't mention the most exciting part of inland spear fishing is falling straight into an ice cold mountainous river - I sometimes try to be romantic, shock horror!

Shes literally screaming at me with the Captain Obvious (after having trained myself for years on this)... and I still couldn't take that next step... "Wanna talk about all this some other time when I won't get you fired?"

Because I realised a long, long time ago, there never IS a good time for this to happen to me, I'm always pre-occupied with some "End of the World" catastrophisation living inside my damned noggin. If not, then I just feel like I've had the emotional stuffing belted out of me, self-esteem wise. And I don't go chasing any women, self confidence sucks the big one, plus I hate myself more than I hate my own worst enemy, and I was willing to tank an entire country to teach him a lesson once upon a time.

I don't want to be alone, and I don't have to be... but the terror of opening out about this entire sh!tshow I'm forced to call "my life" and being stabbed in the heart like I was when the ex decided I was useless because I couldn't become a father - situations I have no control over - scares me more than dying alone... but only barely. Enough to make me terrified to make the next move.

I wonder if I could write the next James Pond movie script? Perhaps Mission: Improbable?

Sheesh.

I'm more venting, bunch of quacks told me the best medical answer they had was "more sedatives." Told them, you want to get rid of me, do me a rather large favour, I hate tax, and I paid more than enough of it in the Court case. I don't need to sleep the remainder of my life away because they don't know how to fix this... I told them, the fix is extremely easy, its also legally impossible.

I must be heard in the Court.

Until then, I just have to get a kick out telling people to cram it up their posterior, while I hate the loneliness that IS killing me. My differences with my society will not be resolved by my laying down and accepting being a weak, scared little boy. I only know to keep fighting, but it colours and taints every word I say, every decision I make to throw more and more opportunities and chances away, walk away from every single open door I'm begged to walk on through, because "If you won't admit I have a right to my inheritance, you simply cannot understand what I'm trying to do, and therefore, I cannot do anything for you..."

A pure logic bind. That has screwed up everything.

I'm still starving. And I still hate everything. Most of all, I believe my issues just far, far too much to ever attempt to try to repair, that I simply ignore them from where I stand most of the time, to try to block the pain.

If only they'd just tell me they were sorry for hurting me, and let my silly pride forgive them. But a perfect Government, and its perfect sponsored criminals cannot ever be sorry - they're perfect, they can't hurt people or destroy lives! Which means I was always worthless in the eyes of everyone I once loved... thats how the logic works.

I told the doctors with their sedatives the only reason I stick around is because I don't want to hurt my adopted mother. Past that, I have little else left now.

Except the regrets, as another woman walks away, literally heartbroken, and I KNOW, I'm not silly... because she can't understand why the bloke who shes enjoying talking to and is making her feel good just... stops. Like you threw a knife switch.

Logic binds in a pattern based autistic savant mind. Pure black and white thinking. If a + b = c then you cannot advance. I don't feel "the chemistry" she is feeling because I blocked it out of my awareness, I only know shes interested in me from an intellectual standpoint, her patterns of behaviour match previous occasions I've had this happen.

I'm ok, not in danger. Just cranky, frustrated. And unwilling to dump three and a half decades of pure emotional Hell on an eighteen year old cute redhead with the hots for me, damn that oversharing crap, and the insta-pair bonding crap, the attachment and separation anxieties... damn the whole sorry mess. I might go bash something together in the workshop after this, and cook some bacon carbonara for lunch. I got some weak apple cider, I've been dry for two weeks, I deserve one for being a good boy, right? Put myself in a better frame of mind before I crack the coldie, I promise.

Oh, yesterday I was looking for a bloody HDMI cable for my computer, and possibly a tilting drafting stand for my new computer desk. Thats it. I felt like crap, and I didn't want to be anywhere but at home, but I made promises I now regret.

The usual usual.

Anyway... blabbering over. </rant>, all that.

To the fellow who said I use self-depreciating humour and it makes me look awful, you'd be amazed to know I made only one slightly self-depreciating remark to this young woman yesterday when I mentioned I build 7.25" gauge ride on model trains, trains are a kind of "generic" autistic interest for us lads, right? Pure embarrassment, of course, I joke like that when I'm hurt, or suspect I'll be hurt - a pre-emptive protective mechanism to take the edge off the pain. Her response? "Everyone needs a vice... I like camping..." Cue my reminiscing of inland spear fishing as a kid. Boom. Never mind she was in literal awe of how "creative" I seemed to be, sketching for her with words and my hands how I'd modify something in front of us into something far more functional - eidetic memory, Tesla style (so I'm led to believe?) hard at work like usual. Your typical garden variety savant on day release... ok, sorry, bad jokes. You all get to cop what she didn't. I'm sick of trying to laugh at these flat jokes that just hurt...

TL;DR: Can't take the "leap of faith," hating that I always have something in the way, like another "end of the world" type crisis. Purely venting, no advice needed really, just wanted to write it out in words, next time I'll try images. Will try to talk to some more professionals about this in the coming weeks anyway. I can't keep doing this, its getting beyond cruel on me, I have a decent handle on what the issues likely are, just not how to actually fix them. Thats a start, I suspect?

Cheers all.