My heart must be set on something before I'll accomplish it

June 18, 1987

Thinking and more thinking about life career. I seem to always want to please those around me - Doctor  for my Dad but I dropped out for Cris, (well, actually - my parents pulled me out on the advice of a crooked psychiatrist) Tailor for Halle, Media Artist for Bonita Wahl, High school teacher for Herb Grika. My God, where does it end?

I really must figure out what it is that I personally would like to accomplish in my life. In terms of realistic - not unattainable - but realistic - calculated risks.

Well, first off, I really like the natural sciences. I am interested in chemistry to some extent - like brain and body chemistry - and I am interested in biology - the biology of all things - well, mammals and especially in concern with reproduction and infant and early child life.

I am capable of achieving anything I set my heart after. I am aware of that at least. It's just that I really must have my heart set on something before I'll really accomplish anything. Will becoming a Pediatrician really satisfy my life career? If everyone should die would I still be interested?

Help! Help me! Sue, you must help yourself - you must not let anything sway you to one side or another.

Well, I did let someone sway me: My dad.

My father was a doctor. His specialty was Family Practice. His dad was a doctor, so was his uncle. He was a good and kind man. He loved my mother and me and my siblings more than anything else. He always told us so.

He often told me a story, of when he was in high school. He was confused and in love with my mother, but was unsure if what he was feeling was love (that sounds kind of Asperger's like doesn't it?) Well, anyway, he saw a psychologist, he always said his name, Dr. Kamman (Thanks Aja, for remembering his name!). This man told my dad that there were only 9 things that were truly important in a relationship.

My dad told me these nine things over and over. Even though he had told the tale to me before, he would trot out the tale at every opportunity. To confirm a relationship was "good", to suggest that a relationship "might not be right", or trying to console a broken heart.

Nine things that you need in order to have a successful relationship...

Companionship: you must enjoy spending time with this person. You must have things in common.
Understanding: You must understand and accept the object of your affection, as they should understand and accept you.
Trust: This is a two-way street. You start with trust and you can only lose it. Once trust is loss, it is very difficult to earn back.
Honesty: Be honest and expect honesty from your partner.
Respect: Respect your partner. You must be of similar "taste".
Loyalty: Be loyal to one another, that is key, no cheating!
Affection: show it! and expect to be shown affection.
Tolerance: You must tolerate some differences from yourself in your partner.
Physical: Attraction and physical affection are vital to a successful relationship.

I suspect now, as an Aspergian, that my dad was one too. He probably was able to navigate life as successfully as he did because of these "rules" and my mother. My father supplied the rules that I used to grow up - at least until I was a teenager, and then again after my bone marrow transplant. I was thirty by then, and ready to listen to him again. 

When I told my dad I was considering returning to pre-med we had a long talk about the state of the medical field. He was greatly discouraging. He said that unless the U.S. reformed the way health care was parceled out, that the medical field was no place to stake your future. My dad would be pleased with the historic Health Care Reform Legislation that was enacted under Obama's Administration.

So, no pre-med for me. That was good. I would have made a crappy doctor. Using his advice, I applied to the University of MN, College of Art Education.

the past is laid out before us; the future behind

September 23, 1986
(Now I have just turned 24 years old)

I walked over to get an album on Nicollet Avenue today. As I did some black guy "psst psst" at me and I unconsciously looked over at him. He was waving his hands - like telling me to come over. I'm Sure - I just kept right on walking.

I'm sitting up on the fourth floor again by the windows waiting for Lens Media to begin. I surprised Cris by coming home for lunch. I watched the rest of Gremlins and hung out the washing too. From this spot you can see the student studio space down on the third floor. It looks like a mess: cardboard on top of the spaces made of pipes tied together - foam, wood, plastic, various art objects, bags of things, a couch, stereos, cupboards...Dire Straits is playing right now...sheets, canvas, various personalities walking about...Strange to think they have no life but that of a student. Carefree, no commitments or time problems. I'm not jealous though, it's just different.

October 1986

I miss my children. I walked into their bedroom to shut off the fish tank and their beds were empty. I wonder how they are. There were about six kids at MCAD today with/waiting for their parents to get out of class. I talked to a young girl about 6 years old - she was coloring.

Being left here alone has only one advantage that I can see - well 2 - but indirectly. It is that I can sleep in tomorrow. It seems like a year since I was able to do this. I probably will wake up at 9:00 because of the silence. It's almost demanding. I listened to Suzanne Vega this morning before heading off to get the bus. Both these experiences were new to me. I planned to stay all day working at shop, welding, but as always goes, the shop closed at 5:00 today, because it's Friday. Oh well. I was doing quite well. Before I went to work, I sat in a comfortable chair and ate lunch as I started reading The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. It's a great book. I read the intro and the first two chapters. I found it very interesting. He said that he considers the past to be laid out before us and the future behind. He's right. It all makes sense. Cris's talking helps the ideas enter more smoothly.

Well, in shop, I was doing quite well after my first two braisings. I really started cooking - it was all working out. I started to manufacture the hinges for my egg tube, which I found. The second time I started towards the shears for cutting, I had to move a garbage can to gain access because John was in the way. I let my thumb slide along the inside edge. PAIN! I grabbed John's shirt back and said, "Ouch, ouch, ouch", still not looking at my hand. Then I looked. Oh shit, I sliced my thumb real good about 2-1/2 inches long and 1/4 inch deep. Calmly, as always is my reaction, I applied pressure to my wound with my index finger and walked over to get some first aid. Well, the teacher (the wood shop guy) didn't realize the extent of my injury (probably because I was so calm). I asked for butterfly sutures - they had none so he gave me some tape and gauze and sent me off to the bathroom to bandage myself. I tried - no success. Chuckie was in the wood shop, so I asked her if she could help me. She cordially agreed - though not bandaging quite as tightly as I wished. I took a half hour break to let my fresh wound coagulate a bit. After I got back, my work was going well for awhile, but then I started my bandage briefly on fire with the blow torch - but I survived. I am going back tomorrow to finish what I can.

I was going to go to Bonita's film tonight, but I had no heart to wait around for 2-1/2 hours for it to start so I just went home. 18-21-14 buses. Tomorrow I plan to go to Laurie Anderson's movie with Sarah.

I remember that Cris took the kids to Wisconsin to stay with Lynne. She was one of Cris's platonic relationships - but then maybe there was a voyeuristic quality about it. She lived in the woods - in a small trailer with no running water. She was an alcoholic and a hippie. She had lived next door to us in Bayport and had had a child with her husband Miles in March asfter Aja was born. 

Lynne liked to garden nude. Her young daughter, Nicollet, also ran about naked. Aja and Nicollet would have been about 5 years old - rounding up on 6 years. I am not certain that that wasn't the reason Cris found visiting them so enjoyable. The more my friend discusses things that I write in this blog, the stranger Cris seemed in relation to pedophilia. Aja related a disturbing story about when she was 5 years old and very shy. The bath was running, and Aja was hiding behind the door, wrapped in a towel. Cris opened the door, it was obvious that Aja did not want to be seen either before, during nor after her bath. She told me that Cris said, "I am your father. I can see you naked any time I want."

The scary thing is - I would have never noticed. I am so involved with my inner thoughts that I seldom give a thought to others. I would think that having an Aspergian wife would give someone the heads up on being a child molester. I know in my heart of hearts, none of these thoughts have ever crossed my mind until I started writing the journals and discussing them.

Again - this is the Theory of Mind stuff that is underdeveloped in an Aspergian. I did not mean to ignore my children. They just kind of were "there". I could tell when they were bored, because they whined. I could tell they were hungry, because they had regularly scheduled mealtimes and snacks. I could tell they were tired, because they took a bath as the sun started to set and then we read books. Sometimes they would tell me they were sick, but I never believed them. I let Aja suffer with Strep turned Scarlet Fever for over a month. They have lots of stories to tell about how I never believed their illnesses. But for me to have not noticed that Cris was grooming our daughter as his plaything? The thought never has crossed my mind until now, as I said, and when it was said, I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach, "Ick... did I miss this?"

I am a rich man

May 14, 1987

Tomorrow is the last day of classes at MCAD before next fall - YEAH! I am very happy school is over. Summer I can do anything I want - just be me. Ahhhh RELIEF! I've been thinking about what I must do. I promised myself another journal (visual) that I must do certain things: exercise, read, work. I notice the state of the house - this also must be dealt with - DREAD - and a garage sale must happen soon. I want to do it all. I want to balance it all out. I should make a list of parceling out the things I wish to do so I don't burn out on any one thing.

Also it came to mind I must write in my journals - anything - I just have to write - write often and with passion - must learn all I can about myself this summer - and the only way to do that is to write my butt off.

My classes I preregistered for today seem interesting and I am pleased at the schedule - Tuesday and Friday only so I am free to work the other days.I am taking Photo one, Video one, Science of Behavior and a Chinese Art and Culture class. Good!

Bonita Wahl said I could help her at film in the Cities. High school students in July and early August four days a week - fun stuff. I can work for Halle and possibly Norman Anderson. I have a feeling he won't call me to work though so I am not waiting for him or anything. I want to write up a serious resume and cover letter and apply for some position - possibly just a stupid job somewhere.

I want to hurt my mind with writing - writing poetry and stories and just stuff.

I want to clean my house - sparkling clean - rid it of pests - no mice, no roaches - no excess!

I want to clean my body, no chemicals, exercise it - healthy.

I want to pick my brains - to know myself - inside and out. To be surprised at myself - to assure myself of my goodness - to feel whole and well. To gain control of myself. To be empowered. To be beautiful. To be well.

Reading "Memoirs from the House of the Dead" (Dostoevsky) and I am feeling horrid. I have a common cold. One thing that stands in my mind is this..."He wanted for nothing...lived like a rich man." I like this thought. It is true, you can live like a rich man if you do not desire what you cannot attain. If you do not feel sorry for yourself - you will be alright. Herb Grika said today that jealousy is when you react to something being taken from you, but envy is want for what you do not have. There is a supreme difference between the two. Envy can spur two people to action to attain what they do not have but if envy (and jealousy for that matter) are held in check then you arrive at the state where you live indeed as a rich man.

If you want not - or want not for anything - you are like a rich man - who is satisfied with his lot in life.

This journal entry seems pretty boring. I cringe reading it, remembering that I asked every one of my teachers for job leads. I had so little experience in the world. I asked the Art History professor if he had any work for me over the summer, he told me I could come clean his house. Yikes.

I understand now, 23 years later, that I was probably annoying them. One teacher, Herb Grika, openly despised me. He was the teacher that asked me what I wanted to do in life. When I answered that I wanted to teach at a college, he laughed at me. He said, "you should teach high school students". I think he was trying to tell me that I wasn't mature enough to teach at a university. I think he was trying to hurt my feelings. I actually left MCAD at the end of the Fall semester the following year as a result. Transferred to the University of Minnesota to get an Art Teaching degree and license. 

Teaching high school is a good and a bad fit for me. I like teenagers, but they react to "authority figures" warily. I yell at them, threaten them in cute ways, I am often misunderstood. I am abrasive and frightening. I am also very loved, many kids say I am their favorite teacher. I have a soft safe place in my heart for the awkward kids, the dark-siders, the emos, the special needs kids, the poor kids, the homeless kids, the native kids. I protect them. I watch them, help them with their schedules, advocate for them.

I believe that teaching is going to destroy me. I am a train wreck, running down the rails. I am an expert in my subject area, a leader in the district, and I hate my job. I hate it. I need a quiet place to work. I am looking at master's programs. I think Library and Information Science - with a focus on Digital Archiving. That sounds quiet doesn't it?