What's In A Name?

Clarity, supposedly.  Or that’s what I thought.  Apparently I’m wrong.

What am I waffling about?  You may well ask.  (And hello, by the way.  I’m still here, post US presidential election.  And the less said about that the better.  Much the same as with Brexit, here in the UK).

So, to the point.  Vegetarianism.  Do you know what a vegetarian is?  Seriously.  I thought I did but it appears that, even with a name so seemingly self-explanatory, there is still room for misunderstanding.  Which, I have to say, baffles me.

As I’ve mentioned before, I am a vegan (so, not only do I not eat meat, but also any of the products produced by living animals - in case you’re not clear on this); but before that I was vegetarian.  This means I stopped eating meat, and all meat-related products - this includes not just the obvious stuff like beef, steak, lamb, sausages, chicken fillets, turkey, bacon, liver, kidneys, duck, etc, but also potted meat, meat-based patés, meat-based gravy, Bovril, and the like - anything that involves eating any part of the animal itself, which requires the death of said animal for the purpose of feeding me.  

Now, you may have noticed that I haven’t mentioned fish,  crustaceans (crab, lobster, shrimp), or sea mammals like whale or shark (I think shark is a mammal, or just an abnormally large fish with very big teeth.  Or is it a dinosaur?  I have a vague notion that I read that somewhere…  *looks vaguely perplexed*).  Anyway, apparently, to some people, fish don’t count as meat.  Which, I have to say, comes as a bit of a surprise to me, considering the fact that they are living, breathing, sentient entities.  

And since my main reason for becoming vegetarian in the first place was to do with the ethical considerations, then this categorisation really is befuddling.  A bit like saying that Jews, or blacks, or muslims, or the poor, or women aren’t human, and therefore aren’t entitled to the same rights as ‘real humans’.  Don’t eat cows, but you can chow down on as much fish as you like ‘cos it’s good for you.

I mention this because I happened to watch a self-proclaimed vegetarian on YouTube sharing one of her meals - which contained tuna fish.  I was astonished.  Nay, I was veritably irritated.  I wanted to rip that chickpea and tuna salad out of her hands, and toss it over her head.  How DARE she call herself something she’s not, and confuse all those viewers out there who are perhaps thinking of following her lead, and who are being fed false and confusing information?!  

Fish and crustaceans are conscious, feeling beings too, you know.  Do you know that lobsters scream when they are boiled alive?  Wouldn’t you?  I mean, which sadistic monster came up with that as a method for cooking them?  At least if you’re going to eat meat then have the decency to kill it before you cook it.  And do it humanely: don’t fucking torture it to death.

What confused me about this woman’s strange assertion was the fact that she appeared to have come to this decision about giving up meat after reading a book about the ethics of eating meat.  So… did she miss the bit that referred to fish et al as being living creatures, and therefore not included in the canon of things a vegetarian can eat; or did the author neglect to mention them?

Or is it, perhaps, me and my expectations and understanding of the word vegetarian, and the concept thereof - yet another instance of the difference between autistic and non-autistic?  Is this an example of my need to rigidly adhere to the letter of the law (in this case, of vegetarianism), my black and white, literal perspective on things?  I have come across this difference before, and it seems to me that neuros are less concerned with following a thing exactly, and instead follow the spirit of the thing rather than the wording, and so frequently ignore the bits that don’t concern them, but which to me seem rather important.  

I had another, recent example of this when I went to my usual greengrocer, who made the comment that the fruit and veg I’d just bought “should keep them going” (“them” being the family he assumed I was feeding, due to the amount of produce I buy).  I decided to correct him, and told him it was all for me, to which he posed the question of whether I was a vegetarian.  I told him yes, and he then told me that so was he, mainly: he just ate a couple of slices of roast beef on Sundays, and the occasional piece of chicken at the weekend.  I thought he was joking.  But then I realised he wasn’t. 

And there are many people like him, and the YouTube lady.  People seem to have a real problem with the idea of giving up something entirely.  It seems that abstinence is not well-thought of, nor even well-understood, in our society. 

And once again we return to the indisputable fact that language for an autistic is a relatively ineffectual way of both communicating with, and understanding, the world - ‘cos the world doesn’t mean what it says.

By the way, I would just like to point out that, despite the possible tone of this post, I am not one of those vegans/vegetarians who think that the whole world should stop eating meat and meat products.  I would strongly (VERY STRONGLY) prefer it if people at least bought their meat products from an organic source, or someone you know treats their animals humanely whilst they are alive, and when slaughtering them.  But I don’t insist that the whole world should follow my example.  We are not all the same, and there are some people who need animal products in their diet in order to function effectively, and stay healthy. 

I am aware that being vegetarian/vegan doesn’t naturally mean being healthier.  There are unhealthy, unhappy vegans/vegetarians in the world, some of whom eat crap: it’s just non-animal produced crap, so they feel better about themselves for not contributing to the widespread cruelty to animals.  Sometimes it’s because they don’t understand nutrition, so they haven’t worked out a balanced, healthy, vegetarian diet.  Sometimes it’s because they’ve made the decision based purely on ethical grounds, and/or guilt and anger about the poor treatment of animals, but that’s it: they’re trying to make a point, but they’re not happy about it - and they really miss meat.

Fortunately for me, I’m not in any of the above categories.  I am happy to be able to say that, whilst ethical considerations were a major part of my reasons for finally giving up meat entirely, I was led to that decision gradually, when I was ready for it, and giving the stuff up was no big deal because I’d already reduced my meat intake (again, gradually) until I was primarily eating a healthy, balanced, vegetarian diet (I did a whole LOAD of research on the subject!  Instead of just being food-obsessed, I was now health food-obsessed).  And my need to change my entire diet, and become healthy, was primarily activated by my eating disorder - so, for me, it’s part of my recovery.  If I eat crap, even non-animal based crap, I’m in shit.

Well, there we go.  I hope you’re all enjoying your food.  And, since we’re in the holiday season, if you can spare a thought (and the money, ‘cos I know organic and free-range costs more), please think about where your turkey is coming from, and the conditions in which it's been raised.

Śanti

Inconsistency, Thy Name Is Lisa

Hello.  It’s the end of October (which I’m sure you’ve probably noticed).  I haven’t posted since the beginning of the month (which you might also have noticed, if you follow my blog at all).  So, setting myself a weekly calendar ‘prompt’ went well, then, didn’t it?

Am I surprised that it hasn’t worked to help me be consistent?  Yes.  Kind of.  More disappointed, I guess.  I was hoping that this time I’d really found something that would work (given that it did seem to be doing so for about a month - which is longer than a lot of the ideas I’ve tried, most of which don’t get beyond the first day of conception.  Perhaps that’s because it wasn’t actually my idea at all this time).  

As readers of the AA Big Book might recognise the phrase, I was hoping that “this time it would be different”: the same way that, as an active alcoholic, I’d hope that, with each new attempt, I would be able to control my drinking.  Only to find that nothing I did to change the way I drank made any difference.  I still got drunk.  And I still persisted in believing that there was some way that I could alter the outcome, by sheer force of will.  

Of course, due to the obsession that had taken hold of my mind, it never occurred to me that I couldn’t; and, therefore, the only logical answer was to stop drinking entirely.  Too simple.  Too scary.  Too logical.  Too extreme.  Too rigidly black or white.  (I know.  How bloody ironic for one whose nature it is to bounce wildly from one extreme to the other, and views everything as a choice between either/or.  An opportunity for some of my autistic personality traits to come in useful, and I decide I’m going to wander in the world of grey. *rolls eyes*). 

So, here’s my dilemma - I keep trying to apply the same principles of the AA programme to things like my inconsistency, because that’s the language and the philosophy that is familiar to me, and with which I have been imbued for nearly thirty years now.  Except that it doesn’t quite work.  

Or, at least, due to the way my autism affects me, I am not able to adapt it and get it to work (and, by God, I’ve tried!)  All that keeps happening is that I confuse myself (even more than normal), and cement the feeling of failure I have about my inability to manage what I’ve come to view as my ‘failings’.  So, that’s a double whammy of failure to get in a pickle about.  Jolly good.

How do I accept that I am inconsistent, and give up trying to enforce it in myself?  

Don’t you sometimes feel as if the world is set up to defeat you, when it appears as if you come up short, or are outright deficient, in everything the world tells you that you need in order to be a thriving, successful, happy, healthy human being?  

Everything feels like such a bloody battle at times, like being in the trenches, never making any headway at all. *heavy sigh*  What would happen if I waved the metaphorical white flag, do you think?  Would someone shoot me?  (Yes, if I was lucky.  Put me out of my misery of having to listen to all of this tediously repetitious and woeful thinking.  Actually, I’d probably shoot myself.  Probably by mistake.)

So, just to maintain the ‘war’ metaphor, a full frontal attack doesn’t work.  Has to be a sneak attack.  So, back to the battle plan.  Or the non-battle plan.  Or the non-plan (given that plans don’t work for me either).  How to surrender, that’s my dilemma.  When I figure it out I’ll let you know.  (We could be waiting a long time, then.)

I hope you find peace with yourself.

Śanti

Blowing A Gasket

Excuse me while I have a bit of a rant.

I don’t trust people to be able to do their jobs properly.  I know it’s not a particularly ‘nice’ trait, but it’s true.  To pretend otherwise is pointless, and dishonest.  I think people are inept, and I expect them to fail at their jobs; which is why they obviously need me to watch them, or worry, whilst they are doing what they’re doing.  After all, I, on the other hand, am totally ept.  

I do feel bad about it sometimes, when it turns out to have been unwarranted; and I try not to expect the worst.  But it seems it’s either that, or going to the other extreme, and having high expectations, which are then usually not met.  

And suggesting that it’s okay to have expectations, but that I should try not to set them too high is like asking me to throw myself off a cliff, but then stop my descent half-way down.  As with everything else, I don’t have a middle ground: it appears there’s just a great big, cavernous hole where the ground should be.  

Personally, my goal is to have no expectations at all, but I fear that this is probably only attainable by those who’ve achieved advanced yogi/spiritual practitioner status, which is beyond me at the moment.  And possibly forever.  After all, I have no idea whether it’s possible for an autistic yogi (with added adhd/anxiety/and obsessive compulsive disorder) to achieve such heady heights…  But I can dream big, and die trying.     

Now, as I said, some of this may come down to my having unrealistic expectations, which is exacerbated by me being autistic, and not understanding what to expect from people (plus the whole black or white thing I’ve got going on).  This I accept.  But sometimes it’s actually because people really are bloody useless.

Take my gas engineers, for example.  PLEEEEASE, take them!!.

My gas boiler decided to have a bit of a nervous breakdown the other night, making lots of loud banging and hissing noises when I tried to run the hot water.  It’s also been leaking for a few weeks, but I decided to ignore this because it was still working (albeit the pressure gauge had dropped to almost zero): and, basically, I just hate having to phone up and report repairs (I hate using the phone), so I generally leave them until they can’t be ignored any longer (you know, when the thing in need of repair ceases to function altogether).  

My reticence is also due to the fact that, because I have anxiety and worry about things, I’m never quite certain whether I’m just making a mountain out of a molehill, and I don’t want to appear to be just some neurotic nelly.  

So I finally took the hint on Tuesday night, and phoned the gas service people.  An engineer came out the next day, and boggled me with some vague and convoluted diagnosis of the problem.  It couldn’t be fixed that day, but would be scheduled as soon as possible.  He did reassure me that I could still use the boiler.

A visit was arranged for two days later, and then had to be postponed until after the week-end (other, more urgent, jobs had come up; made me feel really valued).  And finally the day arrived - and so did a different engineer, bringing greetings of doubt about the efficacy of the solution suggested by his colleague.  Good start.  It’s always reassuring when people working for the same company disagree with each other’s opinions.

He took one look at the boiler, said that the pressure gauge was really low, and that that was probably the problem.  Had the other engineer not filled it up when he was here, he asked?  Answer - no.  And yes, I said, I had pointed it out to him: just as I seem to expend a great deal of breath on pointing it out to nearly every engineer who comes to service or repair the thing.  But you’d think I was asking them to dismantle the whole boiler, the way some of them react to my request for them to top it up.  I’d become rather worried that perhaps I was just paranoid and obsessed with the gauge, because none of them seemed to deem it that important.  I have, after all, been known to become obsessed…

So he did that, and fixed the leak.  And off he went… fortunately, only as far as to sit in his van outside my flat.  I found that the drip was still dripping, so, at the risk of appearing neurotic, I toddled out to him, told him, and he reassured me that it was probably just a residual drip, after he’d filled it up: nothing to worry about.  But if it was still doing it tomorrow, call them out again.

Two minutes later, he was back, saying he’d just check it to be sure.  And lo and behold, there was a leak - caused by a fault in a repair done by a previous engineer, who happened to work for the firm which is no longer employed by my Housing Association.  Good to know that ineptitude runs through all of the companies to whom they contract out work.

So, it’s fixed.  This is good (though I do keep checking to see that the boiler is still working, as is in my nature).  I don’t have to entertain the idea of the whole system having to undergo major replacement surgery, which is a relief.  I was meant to be having a new system installed last year, but after receiving a letter of notification, I heard nothing else.  

Which is the story of my relationship with my local Housing Association.  It’s like dealing with the Keystone Kops.  They are mostly nice people, but they excel at ineptitude.  I need plenty of Ps when dealing with them - Patience, Persistence, Perspective, and Practise (all of which I am rather deficient in) - but just abandon all hopes of Perfection.

And here endeth my rather mild rant.  By the time I was nearly at the end of writing this, the sting had gone out of it, and mostly what I could see was the humour.  I’ve learnt that it’s pointless to keep holding onto the irritation and anger; that it can’t change anything; and it just harms me from the negative energy that it produces.  This doesn't mean that it's gone permanently yet: it will probably take a few days, maybe even weeks, for that to happen - I am a chunterer, someone who doesn't let go easily.  This is just the beginning of the process of me letting go.  

So I leave the Keystone Kops to their bumbling, and give thanks to God that the problem was finally (hopefully permanently) sorted; and that I have central heating, and I don’t have to pay for the repairs.  I have lived in homes without it, or with completely ineffective systems, and it was miserable.  At times like these not only do I need to see the humour, but I also have to remember to count my blessings.

May you see the funny side in all your dealings with authority.

Śanti