Four Legs Good, Two Legs Bad

 

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It’s been a roller coaster of a month and I’m not quite sure where to begin so I’ll start with the bricks and mortar part of our lives… we had an offer on the house last month. It was considerably less than the asking price and I wrestled for some time over whether to accept it as it was such a massive drop.

We did the sums. We found a mindful mortgage consultant. We drove back to Wales. We trudged over hundreds of acres on smallholdings for sale over a two week period (my hips are not happy about this) and eventually, we found ‘the one’ (the twelfth property we looked at on this particular trip). With an offer accepted on a 14.5 acre smallholding, our house sold subject to contract and a complete vision on the eco village we would be building, I really thought it was just a paperwork exercise to now make the dream a reality.blog112

People have always marvelled at how fearless I am when it comes to new ventures, but what they don’t realise is that when you are autistic, everything is scary. I’ve far more fear attached to having to attend a party than borrowing hundreds of thousands of pounds to buy a smallholding.

I posted the details on our vegan eco village networking page and had such an overwhelming response from people wanting to join us that we literally had to create an index card filing system to keep track of everyone. We sent out ‘tribe seeking’ questionnaires and had several back straight away. It presented some challenges when we found out how many people just weren’t vegan (why did they join a vegan eco village networking page if they have no plans to ever be vegan?) but as part of the sieving process it started to look like it really would’t be hard to find ethical vegans to join us – we’d not advertised it externally at all and had dozens of applications to join us.  I connected non-vegans with other non-vegans and pointed people towards other projects that I know are happening where they looked like more of a match for each other. I would love it if these people connected and good came of it. It makes me feel like I have fulfilled some sort of divine purpose when I hear amazing things have happened because of introductions I have made. Sometimes I get so busy making other people’s dreams come true, I forget I have dreams of my own.

I don’t know if it’s unhealthy detachment leading to my brain to disassociate from reality, or if I have achieved some form of wise old lady Buddhist detachment to the outcome of my endeavours, but when the sale of our property fell through and the smallholding purchase also falling through, I didn’t despair. In fact, I had an underlying sense of wellness that it was a positive thing. Like an angel just kicked me up the arse and then whispered ‘not yet’. I know it will happen. Just not yet.

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Kinda Village at dusk.

It’s an autistic trait to endlessly pick apart the whys and wherefores of events and try to work out what went wrong. I like to consider whether I handled the situation correctly. Could I have done anything differently? I realised on reflection that I could have kept the buyers (if I reduced my price further) and that I could have advertised to find investors to then continue buying the smallholding, perhaps even manage to do it without the sale of my house. But the man buying my house was a bully and I felt anxious about doing business with him. He was already causing problems before we had invited solicitors into the fray. It didn’t feel good selling to him, so when it all fell through, I felt both disappointment and relief in equal measure before very quickly settling at ‘meh’. We are not so desperate to sell that we need to do business with sociopaths. And we’re not so desperate for a tribe that I will take money from strangers. Especially when the last two people I tried to help turned out to be very dark indeed beneath the fluffy exterior – but I will come back to that later….

There’s a possibility that my tolerance level when dealing with sociopaths and narcissists is potentially lower than for the majority given my history and over empathic nature (which is like having a target painted on my forehead to those who lack moral fibre). Paul and I have been watching a series on Now TV called ‘The Blacklist’ and the main protagonist Reddington is a sociopath, but because he doesn’t pretend he isn’t one, we, the viewer find ourselves rooting for him. Is it because he is authentic and doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not? Or is it that his rare acts of kindness are proof that he has a soul despite being a serial killer with little or no conscience? Or that he is willing to be held accountable for his choices even when it’s ugly. It’s prompted some interesting conversations at home over who is the darkest: the troubled dark soul who owns his shit, or the sickly sweet, polite sociopath who hides their selfish agendas behind smiling facades? I’d rather be dealing with the former, and in the current political climate it sure would have been good if politician’s true motives were revealed. Then we wouldn’t have found ourselves in this dystopian nightmare that is the reality of our current society. I’m deeply troubled by the way our government have lied and lied and yet people are still voting for them.

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The lies and underhand tactics behind false smiles are symptomatic of what’s wrong with the whole world – not just the world of politics. I’ve said it before, but to save the world, we have to all start owning our shit. It’s a joke how far people will go to avoid being honest, but the thing is, I have this innate ability to get the sociopaths and narcissists to reveal themselves. A lifetime of being a victim of gaslighting because I’m ‘not normal’ (my first husband’s catch phrase) means I always thought that when people behaved badly towards me, it was because I had done something to provoke it and that it was somehow my fault. It was almost always the people who appeared so nice to start with. The common denominator for so many dramatic outbursts of anger aimed at me, was – me. I believed the people who told me I was too sensitive, or that I pushed them away, or that it was me that made them behave badly because of something I said or did.  I no longer think that. I do not say things to stir up trouble and nor do I look for confrontation, but I do speak the truth. Without hidden agenda. Unlike the glib charisma of narcissists, if I have any agenda at all, it isn’t veiled. I’m quite clear about what I want, what I’m after and what my boundaries are. I have kind thoughts. I like helping people. I’m flawed but I’m authentic. So when I encounter someone who is fake, it often doesn’t go well for them because in trying to find out what their motives are, and what they are all about, I often ‘out’ the narcissist.

Not long ago, Paul and I opened up our home to a young couple – foreigners relocating to the country for his research position at the University. A scientist and his wife (who would be looking for a job when she got here) arrived a few months ago and we put them up for a few weeks over Summer. They were vegetarian not vegan, but they promised that they would be vegan while in our home and that was good enough for us. We shared meals and spoke about veganism. We shared recipes. We talked about how cruel dairy was and they both agreed that being vegan was a good idea. She was excited about trying out new vegan recipes. They seemed a lovely couple and we got along fine. As we were very actively house/land hunting in Wales and spent most of the Summer away, we didn’t spend much time with them, but even when we were back home there very few challenges sharing with them; nothing awful and to be honest, I considered it all to be the usual stuff you’d encounter when having to share your space with other people. She didn’t do any job hunting that we could see and was home all day, every day. That was quite hard for me to start with as I work from home and didn’t expect her to be there all day too but I got over it. She liked to experiment with cooking and most of the days we were home, she spent several hours a day in the kitchen (which isn’t big enough for both of us to try and cook at the same time). In the end, I politely suggested a rota and she acknowledged without any falling out that she had been hogging the kitchen. All good I thought, even when she then tried comparing how much more wholesome her food was to ours. Oh, how we laughed at how she cooked everything from scratch when we often popped shop bought fake meat pies in the oven. (Clive’s pies my all time favourite). I resisted the urge to say I usually cooked all the time including days where I batch cooked vegan wholefood to freeze but not being able to get in the kitchen had stopped that. I just thought to myself that it’s only temporary and I could get control back of my kitchen when they were gone. That and any excuse to eat pie really.

She seemed lovely to start with, and there were a couple of times she opened up about personal aspects of her life. I won’t divulge too much out of respect for her, but I can share that she spoke at length at how awful her family were – both Paul and I could relate, as we both experienced abusive childhoods. Her variety of childhood abuse stemmed from being darker skinned than the rest of her Indian family; she was made to feel less – like an outcast and that she wasn’t good enough. Learning this helped me to be more patient with her when I started to notice that behind the giggly, softly spoken words there was a dark passive aggressive streak.

They talked about having a similar dream to us – living off the land in a sustainable way, but unlike us, she wanted to keep livestock for dairy and eggs. Paul and I talked to them both about exploiting animals but she was having none of it. To keep the peace, we never let it get heated and always remained polite, but she knew our position. If I’m honest, despite the politeness, I started counting down the days until she was gone. I wanted my kitchen back and she had also started to remind me of my narcissistic sister – all glowing and charming with softly spoken tones yet I had a growing feeling that she was hating on me big time under the politeness. She was petite and pretty but despite her outward beauty, she had nothing kind to say about her sister who lived in London (with a very successful career and two children, both of which seemed to trigger her). In fact I’d say she was rather scathing about her, yet was completely charming and wonderful to her on their regular video chats.  I started to wonder what she was saying about me behind my back as I’ve learned the hard way that people who say bad things about other people may well be saying bad things about you too.  I witnessed the lies she told her husband when he got home from work as to why she hadn’t found a job yet. I really tried to see her good traits and reasoned that the angry and bitter vibes I could sense behind the false charm was how she was holding herself together; I know what survival looks like with someone who is mentally unstable. Just like Paul’s sister and her vitriolic rants, I could see the damage and although I would prefer not to be around toxic people, I was careful to be as kind as I could. To show kindness when it’s a challenge is easier when you remind yourself that you don’t know what secret battles people are having. They moved out when we were in Wales and we only saw them once more when I said they could come back and use our internet while we were away as their new place didn’t have any.

It wasn’t until she posted information about her new vegetarian creative cookery classes online a few weeks later did it all fall apart. I simply stated that I’d love a vegan creative cookery class, but to her, I may as well have said ‘I’m superior to you because I’m vegan’ if the vitriolic messages I got later were anything to go by. I tried to explain that the whole reason I am vegan is because I do not consider myself superior to anyone, including animals which is why I do not eat, harm or exploit them.  It didn’t help, and I as I could see this was not a battle I was going to win no matter how reasonable and calm I stayed, I stated it was time we stopped pretending we were friends and that I should have our keys back as she still hadn’t returned them after moving out. She ignored a couple of reminders over the next few days, then after a third, very polite message that we were able to collect keys that afternoon if she was home, she replied to say that she had just thrown my keys in the bin and I could go rummage though her rubbish if I wanted them back! She then ignored my reply telling her how unacceptable that was. I took a screenshot of her message and sent it to her husband, asking him to step in and help. The next thing I know, I get a phone call from the estate agent that we bought our house through. They had themselves just had a bizarre phone call from The Co-operative Funeral Care Co on Tiverton Road to say that a crazy lady had just run into their office, thrown a set of keys on a desk, shouted ‘Jenny will collect these’ and then ran out. As the keys still had the estate agent key fob on the key ring complete with the reference number from when we bought the house, they were able to ring me and I went down and collected my keys. I then later got an email from the husband telling me my keys were at the Co-op Funeral Care shop as if this is a perfectly usual way to return keys.

I thought this was to be the end of it, however she then tagged me in a post on Exeter Vegetarians and Vegans page on Facebook. She had got embroiled in another argument over veganism with a question that admin had raised, and then weirdly accused me of sending her hate messages because she’s vegetarian! I looked back over all our messages and all I could see was me trying to explain with kindness why dairy is cruel. The only hate I could see was coming from her. ‘You think you’re better than me’ was one of her accusations and it’s a common one that vegans hear. I may think my choices are better (in some areas) than others, but I never think I am a better person. I’m a different person, and different doesn’t necessarily mean better. It’s like comparing an apple and orange and asking which is better. Admin had switched off comments before I came to witness the whole ugly thread, so I had to ask them to remove the slanderous comments that I sent hate messages. Why is it that toxic people accuse innocent people of the very thing they themselves do? It made me want to screenshot every damn page of all our conversations so everyone could see she was lying, but instead I wrote to her husband once more and offered to help. I asked him to look through the messages with his wife and wondered if they could discuss why she thinks I’ve been hateful to her. I even offered to go and talk it through with them to help get the bottom of her negativity towards me, because if her campaign of hate resulted in more lies and slander I would be involving the police next time. No reply, but then, I didn’t really expect one. Narcissists simply never face the ugly part of themselves and besides, it’s much easier to hate the person that holds the mirror up to that ugliness than face yourself.

Having woken up this morning to the news that the Conservative Party won the election yesterday, I can’t help thinking my experience with the vegetarian lodger is like a snapshot of what is happening politically in the world. Sociopaths and narcissists are not being held accountable for their behaviour and lies. We accept sociopathy as if it’s a welcome trait to make things happen. People seem to lie to each other all the time. This needs to change.

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The symbiotic relationship between how our leaders behave and how the mass population behaves has never been more clear to me. That and the fact that we really are living in an Orwellian matrix where the masses really are shockingly easy to manipulate.  ‘The Party told you to reject all evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command’ (Orwell 1984) is scarily accurate to what just happened in this election. People can see quite clearly how bad things are, but still would rather believe the lies.

It seems to me that the foundation of our society is built on lies, so when someone like me comes along and speaks the truth, it doesn’t make me very popular. ‘The more a society drifts from the truth, the more they will hate those who seek it’ (also Orwell). If we start pointing the finger at who is lying in government, maybe we have to start looking at the lies and cruelty in our own lives. We’d have to look at the lies in the advertising we are exposed to, the false politeness of a society that is failing and of course the lies we tell ourselves so that we can continue to be selfish and never be held accountable for it. If you scratch the surface of the fake lives the majority are leading you will find that not many people are happy. Addiction fills the void where joy should be – whether that’s with alcohol, Facebook, consumerism, gambling etc – all symptoms of a lack of connection to each other and to nature. If people were more connected to the planet, I’m sure they’d be more awake when it came to protecting it.

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It looks to me like we are mostly connected to each other by misery – I noticed this more than ever when I belonged to a group of women called the Singing Sisters. When I told Paul about the things the women regularly said at Sing Club, he renamed it Bitch Club! I made myself unpopular when I told the group I was very uncomfortable listening to them slagging off someone who wasn’t there. I said that it sounded like she had mental health problems and needed support. insultIt wasn’t long after that that they were all discussing me behind my back and I was made to feel so unwelcome in the end, I had to leave. It was like being back at school. I noticed in my post mortem of my time with these women that when I was single and could complain about disaster dates or laugh about the latest narcissist I had invited into my life, everyone could relate. But when I met Paul and got engaged, no-one wanted to hear the romantic stories. My happiness was not welcome. This is not what I call sisterhood. The dictionary describes sisterhood as a connection between women based on common interest, trade or religion. I think the common interest in Bitch Club, sorry, Sing Club was to hate men. And people with mental health problems. People think I’m being mean when I hold up a mirror but often I’m just describing what I see.

We went back to Wales last week for a seminar on co-housing and made some useful contacts and got lots of great information for building our eco village. But, here’s the thing; I’m starting to have a wobble that I want to be around people when the more I do to share what we have and help people, the more I feel like a mole being bashed over the head in a plastic ‘whack a mole’ game. As part of the tribe matching service I seem to have inadvertently begun, I introduced two contacts to each other – one a lady that I suspect is on the spectrum and is overcoming all sorts of anxiety issues to be pioneers in a new sustainable life with her beautiful family, and the other an ‘earth mother’ type with a grown up son and having lived in many communities. I had hoped they would connect, but not only did they positively hate each other, the toxicity of the ‘earth mother’ type shocked me somewhat. I tried being a peacemaker but got shot down by her for my efforts. ‘Did you not see me radiating?’ the earth mother type said when I suggested rather than accuse my other friend of being toxic she could look to her own negativity that arose after their experience of each other. It didn’t go down well, and I have been deleted as a friend. I did my usual autistic post-mortem and pieced together the evidence of where it all went wrong for these two women. The anxious one in this equation is a vegan. The other, who believes she ‘radiates’ is not. Was cognitive dissonance at play again with a vegetarian thinking they have ‘arrived’ and not being prepared to examine their choices because they would find they weren’t all kind ones? Or was it that people like my anxious friend trigger anger in people that lack empathy? Ironically, while the ‘earth mother’ type was spouting her hate on her Facebook page about the toxicity of someone she just met, she failed to see her own toxicity. And she really didn’t like me suggesting it. Paul and I nearly fell out over it because he wants to protect me from people like her and was cross that I got embroiled when I defended a friend. ‘Better not to get involved’ he said while I spent a day in tears. But my tears are not a sign of weakness, and I told Paul that people like her are the very people I believe I am here to challenge. Some of the loveliest, most soulful people I know aren’t vegan yet, so it isn’t a vegan thing. It’s people who pretend to be kind, but the moment they are presented with something that makes them uncomfortable, they reveal the dark selfish individual they are. The ‘earth mother’ type who dismisses another person because they may have mental health problems is not one of my tribe.

The conclusion I am currently drawing from this is that those that pretend to be kind in a bid to groom others into liking them for selfish agendas are often the darkest souls of all. Give me an authentic mess who can’t hide their darkness over a simpering manipulator any day. I long for a day when people speak freely about what they think and how they feel. Even if it occasionally makes for an awkward moment, I appreciate honesty.

All this has held up a mirror to me too. What is my agenda? Why am I continuously trying to connect with other people when all I keep finding is nastiness? My vegan eco village networking page is more popular than ever, but I’m starting to think we need to scale down our project so that there’s less people. More animals perhaps. Because my experience so far of people is that ‘four legs good, two legs bad’ (Orwell again!). I hope that changes, but my disappointment in how our nation voted yesterday along with my own ‘whack a mole’ experience of trying to help people has sent me into hiding at the moment. It’s winter so hibernating seems natural anyway.

We will put our house on the market again at Christmas, and try again, but until then, (and perhaps until we go for it with the eco-village in Spring) I may not write again for a while. I have an idea for a novel and there’s a chance I will be writing articles on Autism and PTSD once a month if I get the gig so this is a bit of a signing off for now. I may publish my ‘neurodivergent’ articles here for those of you following my journey into conscientious living, but otherwise this marks an end to keeping my personal blog going. I shall leave with a positive note on some jolly good news so you don’t think I’m flouncing off in a huff:

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Greta Thunburg has been made Time Person of the Year. As someone who is also autistic, outspoken and passionate about saving the planet, I hope people like us start getting hailed as role models instead of weirdoes or ‘not normal’. I feel this is the beginning. Change is coming.

Lighthouses, Ships & Norcadia

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After having a suitable break at home in Exeter from searching for the ideal location for our vegan eco-village, we headed back to Wales last week. This time visiting friends as networking was our priority, not house hunting. It’s become more and more important to us to get to know the lovely people we could end up buying collectively with. Plus, not everyone is ready yet to buy land – some still have houses to sell like us or are waiting until Christmas and winter are both out of the way.

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A vegan ‘Bring and Share’ buffet at Anastasia’s house.

We took our electric bikes hopeful that the rain would stop long enough to go for an exploratory ride around Cardigan or the coast roads, but it was relentless and our bikes sat in the cabin unused. Fortunately I like the rain and we took sanctuary in a small log cabin we rented through Airbnb in a woodland holiday park. We played the guitar, made and ate wonderful food, canoodled like teenagers, played our favourite board game Carcasonne and donned our raincoats for some muddy walks.  I couldn’t get internet and I think it broke the spell many of us are under with our addictions to our screens. We grounded ourselves. And then we went to a vegan lunch organised by a wonderful lady who has just moved to Cardigan and also reconnected with other fellow vegans we already knew. We networked. octblog31

There’s a price to pay for spending time with people – particularly strangers and the effort required trying to find connections with them. In fact it was so exhausting, I had to then cancel the plans we had for the the next day to see other friends just so that I could recover. I probably need to adjust my expectations to incorporate this and not be overly optimistic that I can do it all. It’s okay to visit an area and not necessarily see everyone that lives there.

There’s something about the smell of British woodland in Autumn after rain that is so earthy I find it seductive. Like sipping a hot toddy or a slipping inside a heavy velvet cloak and feeling instantly calmed by the weight of it. Sitting with the doors to the cabin open listening to the rain and breathing in the crisp air felt soul cleansing. The woodland birdsong spoke into my heart and healed much of the negativity I had come away with.

I had come away with a heavy heart over what has been happening in our personal lives and also how this has been mirrored on a massive scale with people globally. The divide has never felt so great; splitting families apart and creating a disquiet between us. This last week or so has seen a bizarre wave of anger aimed at Greta Thunberg – even climate activists saying she is a no more than a puppet for capitalists who have decided to invest their billions in more renewable energy sources and profit from the climate crisis. People have commented very unkindly on her looks, made judgements on her ‘acting’ skills and been so cruel I feel ashamed to be part of this species.

I found myself embroiled in debates online and then it struck me that much of it feels manufactured – that perhaps climate crisis skeptics and oil billionaires have been funding new trolling algorithms so that we get so busy arguing with each other we stop trying to save the planet at all. Therefore I’m going to try to resist arguing online with the eejits that think it’s okay to crucify a sixteen year old trying to change the world as it can profoundly affect my well-being. It would seem that even my armchair activism may well be too triggering for me, and as it forms just another distraction from what I should be doing, I really ought to limit my time online. Otherwise I’m just a zombie, floating around on a lilo in the ocean not noticing the tide pushing me further and further away from being able to achieve anything at all. It feels like this is the zombie apocalypse, with the majority of us hypnotised, brainwashed and controlled by power hungry sociopaths. It’s so easy to lose three hours trawling the internet. Plug in and zone out.

It seems to be a disproportionately high number of white middle aged men challenging what Greta stands for and she has hit back by telling them they are clearly threatened by her and this shows that change is coming. And it is. I feel it and whilst it’s easy to get caught up in the waves of grief that come with waking up and seeing how stupid, selfish and lazy most of the world is, I also know that just by being the change, we are at least doing our bit. More and more people are waking up.

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Lorenzo Quinn’s Giant Hands sculpture emerging from a Venice canal to make people more aware of climate change.

Artists are showing us the truth, musicians are singing it, and if the amount of corporations jumping on the vegan bandwagon is anything to go by, we are changing things. We watched a bit of terrestrial telly while we were in the cabin (we don’t watch it at all at home) and were stunned by the amount of vegan products being advertised.  Even if it’s supply and demand profits for the capitalist vultures, we are changing things. So to the climate crisis skeptics, I say this: if it turns out we were wrong about climate change, we will have created a cleaner, kinder world to live in, but if we are right and yet do nothing, we could be heading for mass extinction. Doesn’t it just make sense to do what’s right anyway? I find it astonishing that there is all this information out there – so much knowledge about how to live sustainably and how to reduce our impact on the planet yet so many of us still choose tastebuds and convenience over these fatally important issues. But the movement to take responsibility for our actions is growing. I have non-vegan staff making announcements on Facebook that they are going to try going vegan for a month because ‘You can do nothing, or you can do something. We want to do something.’ (I cried when I read that). It feels like our cunning plan to infect the world with kindness is working. And by ‘our’ – I mean the people choosing the right side of history to be on. The side that are evolving into kinder people. The side that embraces empathy as a well needed trait in a world currently run by sociopaths and psychopaths.

Gandhi said ‘First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win’. It seems we are at the fighting stage then and I take comfort in that. ‘Change is coming whether you like it or not’ as Greta has been reminding us. I personally do not care if greedy capitalists are jumping on the Greta bandwagon and paying for her yacht to get her to the states to show Trump what the future looks like. If they are promoting change in order to profit from it, or attempting to groom a genuine icon to further their agenda I care not. Let them help our cause with their greed! When we have averted the ecological disasters we will be stronger and the revolution to end capitalism won’t be radical at all; just the next step.

Next week is the start of the next Extinction Rebellion take-down in London. I wish crowds didn’t trigger me, or that I wasn’t so empathic I can feel the dark emotions of the haters to the point of making me feel ill, or that noise and chanting didn’t make my heart race like a hunted gazelle. I’d like to be there in London supporting the brave people prepared to be arrested. I wish I could be there on the front line and know how to respond lovingly to Tory commuters who are so greatly inconvenienced by the rebels trying to save the world that they spew hateful diatribe at us. To me, even the verbal assaults are like hurling curses that I feel in my chest like an air blaster hitting me with a sonic boom. I’m autistic. Or highly sensitive if that helps to better understand how these things affect me. I’m deeply empathic. In fact everything is deep for me. Too deep sometimes. I often wear myself out so I need to take special care not to burn out. Sometimes I am so overwhelmed, I have to shut down and introvert.

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Networking is difficult for me. Whilst I met some amazing people who I look forward to spending more time with, I also met an emotional vampire who insisted on finding my profile on Facebook in front of me, and demanding friendship. I used to get the urge to befriend every lost soul and think perhaps I could help them, but I have now learned I have to conserve my energy and be selective about who gets my time. I thought it through with some anguish as I do not take rejecting someone lightly, but in the end I had to ignore her friendship request. There was a time when I would have been flattered by the attention and honoured that someone so charming should feel so strongly about me they will insist I must go and see them when I’m next in their town, but I am realising with more and more certainty that I cannot be around people like her.

I had hoped perhaps my initial instinct over my aggressive new ‘friend’ was wrong, but when I looked at her Facebook profile and the endless pouting selfies, ‘Kardashian’ style bodycon dresses, false eyelashes and body building poses I had to admit I am still attracting narcissists and I simply can’t cope with them anymore.  I’ve been a magnet for people like this all my life and whilst this woman may well have been a good hearted individual, and I have judged her far too harshly based on her profile – the image she portrays acts as a red flag for me now. It triggers me as one of my sisters is also of the same ilk.  I am very grateful that I am no longer subjected to anymore of her pouting vanity, and more importantly that I am no longer under the spell of any charismatic, yet shallow narcissists that use charm when they need you and drop you when they don’t.

I realise of course that many people are like this because they are products of our sick society and the constant need for approval is a symptom of the damage it is causing. Trying to work out whether insecure souls are really manipulative narcissists playing victim is exhausting, however it turns out you can spot these people quite easily as they turn into nasty aggressors very quickly when challenged. And they never back down or acknowledge a nasty outburst and apologise for it.

Whilst I have spent my life assuming the best of people until they prove me wrong, it’s perhaps time I also acknowledge that I just can’t tell with some people. None of us can if someone has crafted their fake persona well. octblogg2It’s how the charismatic sociopaths get into power – they trick and deceive with fake smiles and false promises. They claim to be the new prophets and that they are here to save us, but really all they do is split us apart so that we compete against each other instead of sharing. People do not feel like they are part of a community anymore, and getting ‘likes’ on a pouting selfie and having people comment on how fabulous you look is what support looks like these days. It’s tragic. Kindness is the only way we are going to survive as a species now and that means thinking of others. Kindness doesn’t mean accepting someone else’s darkness. I’m trying to find the balance between helping those that are lost and not absorbing their negativity. It’s almost impossible when you are autistic; I feel the pain of others like it is my own.

Please don’t think I expect everyone in my life to be all good. If you have issues but want to change, I’ll save up all my spoons and go to hell and back to rescue you if you need me to. But if you don’t want saving, or you think I’m wrong about what is important then I’m not going to waste my energy. It’s too precious.

There’s a divide between us and it simply comes down to this: you’re either ready to face yourself and all the ugly truths about who you have become in order to address it and change, or you will refuse – for whatever reason that is; perhaps you are a sociopath or a narcissist, or perhaps (and I hope and pray this is the majority) you’re just asleep. You’re a zombie floating around on a lilo not realising the planet is dying. Not realising the pain and suffering inflicted on your behalf. It’s time to wake up, and to try and wake up everyone else around you! If you are hated and persecuted for this, move away. These people are not ready to see who you have become yet.

My life is immeasurably better since cutting ties with my biological family. We as a society should stop tolerating narcissists and sociopaths full stop. No more gratuitous fawning over celebrities. No more falling for the glib flattery of sociopaths.

sociopathNo more voting psychopaths into power. It’s all connected – accepting the bad behaviour of a family member is not far removed from accepting the sociopathic behaviour of a prime minister. Gentlefolk with kind hearts are constantly being manipulated by people who seem devoid of a conscience. Let’s stop that please. It starts at home, so look around you and set some boundaries that protect you from anything that isn’t born of love and kindness. It’s time we started measuring success and love differently. It’s time we make kindness our priority.

Like the grand emotions I spoke of in my last blog post, I am finding that the bigger picture and focussing on the mission to create a kinder world helps me overcome feelings of guilt or fear at rejecting a friendship request from a potentially toxic influence.

Over the past few weeks, someone from Paul’s family has been regularly taking umbrage online with his vegan and far left political views on Facebook. A couple of times it briefly triggered Paul into someone I barely recognised. It was as though their darkness infected him while he allowed them to antagonise him. I tried to help him respond to their vitriolic rants and spiteful emojis with love but it just made it worse. In the end I found that they reminded me too much of the narcissistic traits of my own family and then I too was triggered. When both of us are triggered, it takes me to a place that doesn’t feel safe. I found myself yearning to belong to a tribe who could support us through these times. To strengthen us as we fight this battle. We all need a family, but perhaps it shouldn’t necessarily be the one we are born into. We need to surround ourselves with kind people and if your family is unkind, it is only social conditioning that tells you that you have to put up with it. You don’t. If we refused to turn a blind eye to cruelty and named it, talked about it and found solutions to deal with it think about the different world we would be living in.

When I came to think about my triggered angst later, I realised I had been quite specifically reminded of both my mother and my sister with Paul’s family member trolling him, and also of all the many sleepwalking zombies who are angry at me for making them feel bad. In my autistic inability to let go of my past pain, I relive my abusive childhood and all the painful rejections from my family every time I am triggered. It means all these people meld into one caricature of something very dark and ugly. They, like so many others have taken against us. Against me personally, for what? For being good? For being truthful? For being different? For feeling things too deeply? For being ‘over-sensitive’?  For being ‘too much’? For making people feel uncomfortable? For choosing to live more conscientiously? I think most of them choose their ‘side’ based on fear, and like so many humans facing the dilemma of whether to evolve, self reflect and face the truth about who we are and what we are responsible for, they have chosen denial and hate. Some people will never see themselves, or who you are as they can’t see beyond their own false reality. It’s cognitive dissonance. It’s a pity, but make no mistake, this is war we are in. If you are not with us, you are against us. It’s empaths versus sociopaths. Perhaps these are the end days like some religions will have us believe – perhaps this is how the meek inherit the earth? While the narcissists and power hungry capitalists are all fighting with each other, we gentlefolk will build a garden of Eden quietly in the background. It’s what we are trying to achieve with our eco-village, with my kindness course, and with our determination to live by example even when we are persecuted for it. I may not be able to rebel in London with my fellow XR activists but Paul and I will be rebelling everyday in our own ways.

Even if it’s small rebellions like sprouting our own beansprouts instead of buying them wrapped in plastic from a supermarket, or choosing a delicious plant based diet instead of eating sentient beings. We’re taking it to the next level and selling everything to go and live in a cabin with nature and without all the trappings. We hope that doing these things inspires others, not angers them but ultimately that’s not down to us. So if you hate us for trying our best to be good people, I suggest you look at what it is we are triggering in you. Is it time you chose to do something too? octblog3

It’s no good making excuses anymore like “Oh, but I can’t give up cheese’ or ‘Some of us have to make a living’ or ‘I haven’t time to shop locally’ (I could go on) because this is an emergency and I have stopped worrying quite so much if my goodness is offensive to those who refuse to wake up.  My family is anyone who chooses kindness – every day and in every way that they can. My tribe consists of people who would never separate a mother from her baby because it’s milk tastes nice.

Or that thinks that other species are here to be our slaves. The family we choose isn’t toxic, isn’t self serving, isn’t determined to put us down and doesn’t hate us for trying to be better versions of who we used to be. Our family is your family if you want to leave behind the lies and the brainwashing and instead of being self-serving, choose to serve each other instead. There’s an enormous amount of joy to be found in helping others. So much, it makes me a little sad I didn’t learn this twenty years ago.

I feel like I’m a lighthouse now – shining my light like a beacon so that ships can see their way. I may not be able to set sail quite as bravely as my XR comrades or Greta, but my light is strong. I will not apologise if it also shines a light on the ugliness I keep encountering. Until it’s brought into the light, we can’t deal with it. And deal with it we must.

At the risk of taking my lighthouse and lilo analogies too far, plagiarising other authors, and using far too many cliches this is how I see it: lighthouse Most of us are ships. But we sit resolutely in our docked harbours and do not set sail for distant shores because it feels safe not moving. (I think I stole that from ‘Women That Run with Wolves). Some are ships with huge beacons on them like lighthouses at sea. Some are fleet leaders. Greta is one of those – complete with beacons, armoury and a fleet behind her. I see her autism as a super-power driving her to achieve justice for the planet. But you don’t need to be autistic to want to save the world. You just need to be more empathic. We all have skills. we all have choices. Many people have forgotten they are ships and instead their vessels have been weakened by society until they have become deflating lilos, carelessly floating about  – manipulated by the media and brainwashed into either believing everything is fine or that the new iPhone is all that matters. They are unaware we are heading towards disaster, and do not want to hear the bad news from those that have woken up. Then there’s Norcardia. If you don’t know what that is, it’s that soapy looking scum that sits on the top of the water. It behaves like a fungi with it’s branching filaments, but is actually a bacteria – one that can make you sick. Tories are Norcadia. Boris Johnson. And Trump. Dare I say it – even Brexit supporters. They surround and infect the lilos until they all dissolve in a jellified soup of filth. Even hearing their voices or seeing their stupid Facebook updates is like catching a spray of it in a sudden unkind gust of wind. It’s up to us to decide what we are, and to also decide who we want with us in our brave new world. So. What are you? Lighthouse, ship, lilo or Norcadia?

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