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  1. Unexpectedly, a bad ptsd episode resulted from a conversation at the lumber supply. I thought all I was doing was asking a guy, okay, an attractive guy, about his dog. I didn’t expect there to be much of a response, but words gushed out of him, like he was being examined & filmed for a screen test. And as usial for me when I’m overwhelmed by a social situation, I start copying the person.
    &:$:!*}€~#£¥<!
    Why can I NOT control this?

    OH right. Because I suck at social interaction. Because I am on the spectrum. Because I have no idea what sub-text is happening, right under my nose.

    So. New rule: no talking at the shops.

    A
    couple of days later, I realized there was something ‘off’ about that man. He told me he was a retired cop. Looked like a cop, muscular and as though maybe he taught martial arts or something. But I suspect if my son had been with me he’d of said the guy was a typical U.S. male. The kind that I always get into serious disagreements with, ending any possibility of friendship.

    So I ended exhausted. I spent (+ or - wasted) almost an day on the guest room bed, recuperating from what most NT’s would simply feel was a slightly weird conversation.
    i’m so tired of this reaction. I’m fine now. Great, in fact.

    Making myself do a long, sweaty workout did wonders for getting it out of my system. It also engeendered a small but significant ‘aha,’ in that the man at the store reminded me of P., & how I’m still, after all this time, frightened of him.

    All for now.

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