Okay, I can't go into too much detail here as to what the traumas I'm undergoing specifically are because some of them are still ongoing and I really don't want to talk about them. It's the 'side-effects' of the traumas I'm interested in because I've noticed a pattern to my behaviour whenever I have one and I'm wondering if it's just me that has these reactions.
Right, trauma number one: a very acrimonious split with my one and only ever girlfriend. I'm okay mentioning the details of this one because I've had counselling and to some degree I've been able to get over it. The relationship started okay but began to devolve within a year or so. I didn't know I was (probably) autistic, she didn't know either, neither of us knew anything about Klinefelter Syndrome (which is what I do have) or the way it can affect a person's behaviour. With hindsight I can say I spent the entirety of the relationship engaging in masking behavior and paying very close attention to what she was saying and what her wants and needs were, not because I was head-over-heels in love with her (I wasn't), but because I wanted the relationship to continue and in order to do that I had to at least mimic a functional human being. Of course, it eventually came crashing down because all deceits do. I won't go into why I dragged a doomed relationship out as long as I did, because that's not the subject here.
The point is, as the relationship approached its nadir I became suicidal, which is what I received psychological counselling for. The break-up was horrible, with shouting, screaming and cursing from her side, and, basically, terror-filled muteness on my part. I simply couldn't speak up for myself - I could barely speak at all, in fact; just sat there and took it. All of a sudden, during this crashing and burning... I could no longer stand to have milk in my coffee. I know, this is completely out of left field, but out of nowhere the thought of having milk in coffee revolted me to the point where I couldn't stomach it anymore. During the relationship - and my entire life prior to it - coffee had been a milky experience. When the relationship ended, so did milky coffee. I did say this was weird. To this day, thirteen years later, I haven't had a single drop of milk in my coffee. It's as if a switch was thrown in my head.
Trauma number two is quite recent. It happened in August of 2018 and it's still ongoing, so I'm not going to go into any detail. Suffice to say it included a suicide attempt, carries life-altering consequences and came as profound a shock to me as trauma number one... and suddenly I not only wanted to wear a baseball cap - I craved a baseball cap. I needed to have one on my head.
I have never, ever, prior to this, been a hat wearer. Before this, hats made my head itch. If I had a hat on my head, I felt it every moment it was there. It was uncomfortable, it blocked my view, it felt unnatural and I didn't like it. But now, out of nowhere, I was so desperate for a hat - and, specifically, a baseball cap, that I had to go online and search for exactly the hat I needed, going so far as to buy one from an international vendor and getting it shipped over here at exorbitant price. For reference, I live in England and the hat vendor is in the USA. Again, it was a deep need - completely illogical and coming as if a switch had been thrown. The hat and I are now inseparable and I feel naked without it.
Trauma number three is the most recent. It happened scarcely a week ago and is a direct consequence of trauma number two. The events are related; another crash-and-burn moment. Prior to its arrival I'd been a fairly heavy consumer of alcohol - beer and ale, to be specific, not the 'hard' stuff. And now, yet again, the switch seems to have been thrown. Another trauma seems to have had a completely random, roll-of-the-dice effect on me: I no longer have any urge to drink beer. Indeed, the desire for it that the sight of a bottle once had seems to have evaporated. Physically this is probably beneficial - the instant diminishing of an addiction, something I'd thought was impossible. But here we are. I used to down several bottles a night, every night of the week. Trauma number three arrived and suddenly there's no craving and I barely even think of booze. The switch has been thrown again.
Is any of this remotely normal? Black coffee, hats and going on the wagon? What will happen next time? It seems totally random.
Thoughts/opinions are welcome.
Right, trauma number one: a very acrimonious split with my one and only ever girlfriend. I'm okay mentioning the details of this one because I've had counselling and to some degree I've been able to get over it. The relationship started okay but began to devolve within a year or so. I didn't know I was (probably) autistic, she didn't know either, neither of us knew anything about Klinefelter Syndrome (which is what I do have) or the way it can affect a person's behaviour. With hindsight I can say I spent the entirety of the relationship engaging in masking behavior and paying very close attention to what she was saying and what her wants and needs were, not because I was head-over-heels in love with her (I wasn't), but because I wanted the relationship to continue and in order to do that I had to at least mimic a functional human being. Of course, it eventually came crashing down because all deceits do. I won't go into why I dragged a doomed relationship out as long as I did, because that's not the subject here.
The point is, as the relationship approached its nadir I became suicidal, which is what I received psychological counselling for. The break-up was horrible, with shouting, screaming and cursing from her side, and, basically, terror-filled muteness on my part. I simply couldn't speak up for myself - I could barely speak at all, in fact; just sat there and took it. All of a sudden, during this crashing and burning... I could no longer stand to have milk in my coffee. I know, this is completely out of left field, but out of nowhere the thought of having milk in coffee revolted me to the point where I couldn't stomach it anymore. During the relationship - and my entire life prior to it - coffee had been a milky experience. When the relationship ended, so did milky coffee. I did say this was weird. To this day, thirteen years later, I haven't had a single drop of milk in my coffee. It's as if a switch was thrown in my head.
Trauma number two is quite recent. It happened in August of 2018 and it's still ongoing, so I'm not going to go into any detail. Suffice to say it included a suicide attempt, carries life-altering consequences and came as profound a shock to me as trauma number one... and suddenly I not only wanted to wear a baseball cap - I craved a baseball cap. I needed to have one on my head.
I have never, ever, prior to this, been a hat wearer. Before this, hats made my head itch. If I had a hat on my head, I felt it every moment it was there. It was uncomfortable, it blocked my view, it felt unnatural and I didn't like it. But now, out of nowhere, I was so desperate for a hat - and, specifically, a baseball cap, that I had to go online and search for exactly the hat I needed, going so far as to buy one from an international vendor and getting it shipped over here at exorbitant price. For reference, I live in England and the hat vendor is in the USA. Again, it was a deep need - completely illogical and coming as if a switch had been thrown. The hat and I are now inseparable and I feel naked without it.
Trauma number three is the most recent. It happened scarcely a week ago and is a direct consequence of trauma number two. The events are related; another crash-and-burn moment. Prior to its arrival I'd been a fairly heavy consumer of alcohol - beer and ale, to be specific, not the 'hard' stuff. And now, yet again, the switch seems to have been thrown. Another trauma seems to have had a completely random, roll-of-the-dice effect on me: I no longer have any urge to drink beer. Indeed, the desire for it that the sight of a bottle once had seems to have evaporated. Physically this is probably beneficial - the instant diminishing of an addiction, something I'd thought was impossible. But here we are. I used to down several bottles a night, every night of the week. Trauma number three arrived and suddenly there's no craving and I barely even think of booze. The switch has been thrown again.
Is any of this remotely normal? Black coffee, hats and going on the wagon? What will happen next time? It seems totally random.
Thoughts/opinions are welcome.
