Invisible No More

my love affair with words

Who I am. part 1

I have something different about me, but my difference is invisible.  You wouldn’t see it unless you know why I’m pulling my wrists or biting my fingers (Actually I’m pulling my jaw, but to you it probably looks like I’m biting all my fingers at once).

Wait, let me start this off by saying I have never been diagnosed with Asperger’s or any other Autism related disorder.  In fact when I brought it up with my (ex)therapist.  He laughed (at me? or because he doesn’t believe in Autism?) and basically guaranteed that I did not have Asperger’s, but what that man didn’t understand is I’ve had 39 years to learn to adapt to this world and hide my tics, my meltdowns, my obsessions and other quirks.

My nephew was diagnosed as PDD-NOS, but at first we thought it was Asperger’s and the more we researched Asperger’s syndrome the more I recognized the traits in myself, I saw in myself so many traits of an Aspie.  With this blog, I’m not trying to convince anyone that I have this condition, because honestly I don’t know if I do or not.  What I hope to accomplish is to give you a glimpse into the mind of someone who may (or may not) have Asperger’s Syndrome.

I was taught when I was very young that I needed to look people in their eyes when I talk to them.  I remember very specifically my mom sitting me on her lap and telling me to look her in the eyes.  (Of course she was trying to catch me in a lie at the time.  I frequently took the fall for my Brother and Sister when I was little.  They would pay me for it. “I’ll give you a dollar if you say you did it.”) I learned from that experience what was expected when talking to someone.

Most of the time I try to stare at people’s mouths, my sensory processing disorder (also never been diagnosed) makes it hard for me to understand what people are saying.  One of my friends explained it as I hear what people say then I have to translate it into Patti Language before I can understand it. Sometimes I have to repeat the sounds I heard in my head a dozen or so times before it gets translated. So if I look lost or bored I’m probably just lost in translation. 🙂   Reading peoples lips helps, plus it’s a good way to avoid eye contact in a somewhat socially acceptable way.  Once I was at a Halloween party and I wasn’t wearing my glasses and I realized I couldn’t hear what people across the room were saying to me when I put my glasses back on I heard them better.  That is when I realized I subconsciously read people’s lips.

Accents are very hard for me to process, two examples:  I was visiting Tennessee with my Aunt, Uncle and 2 cousins.  I had painted my nails purple awhile before the trip so as always (it seems) my polish was chipped and only on the bottom of my fingernails.  A woman looked at it and said “Did you mash your thumb?” with a very heavy southern accent.  I literally was at a loss.  I had no idea what the woman asked me, but she was waiting for an answer I just stood there staring at her until my uncle translated, “She wants to know if you hurt your thumb.” I just said “nail polish” and wiggled my fingers at her.  I was so embarrassed that I could not figure out what she said it just sounded like DIDYAMASHYATHUMB.

The other incident is somewhat funnier; mom and I laugh about it a lot.  My pediatrician was a lovely Thai woman (she actually saved my life when I was 3, but that’s a story for another time) who at the time had a pretty heavy accent, but I was used it because I knew her and most times I could understand her. This time was different; she used a word that I didn’t quite know yet.  She said “I need to get a urine specimen.”  I’d probably heard the words urine and specimen before, but it wasn’t something used in everyday conversation. So I said “What?” and she said “I need to get a urine specimen,” so I said “What?” and she repeated it. It probably happened 5 times before my mom finally yelled “GO PEE IN A CUP!” That was much less embarrassing than the DIDYAMASHYATHUMB incident, because we were all laughing about it. Now, I think of that every time I have to give a urine sample.

DIDYAMASHYATHUMB. If you look at that word and have trouble finding where all the spaces go, that’s how I hear.  I have to match word sounds with words I’ve heard before.  If I’m bored or tired I just nod and smile, sometimes it’s just too hard to translate what people say to me, sometimes it’s just not ever worth the effort.

If you’ve ever seen me singing along with the songs on the radio, I don’t actually sing the words (unless I know the song really well) I just sing the sounds. For example in Portishead’s Roads she sings “from this moment, how can it feel this” I know those words so I sing them, but until I wrote this blog I never knew that the next word is “wrong” I always just made the sound RA.  LOL How can it feel this RA.

Because I don’t always sing actual words I frequently sing instrumental solos too especially guitar solos.  My friend Carrie always gets a kick out of that.

 

stay tuned for part 2.

You can purchase my novel A Murder of One at:

http://www.amazon.com/Murder-One-Patti-Keno/dp/0692388338/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1437168287&sr=8-1&keywords=patti+Keno

AMOO_lg

and Stay tuned for my latest novel Shattered Souls coming soon!!!

1 Comment »

Normal

 

those words

and the way  you

say them

make me feel

stupid and useless

and I hate it

I’m not like

everyone

else

so quit trying

to change

me

I will never

fit in

to your cookie

cutter

expectations

so why do you

even try

those words

and the way

you say

them

cut me in two

leaving me bleeding

and restless

I will never be

normal

so quit trying

to make

me

so

.

those words

and the way

in which you

say them

leave me aching

and breaking

down in despair

.

I am not

stupid!

I am not

weak!

I am not

useless!

.

I am

NOT

NORMAL

and I

will

never

be

                                                            4/10/15

                                                              ©Patti Keno

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pieces

pieces of me
scattered
strewn about
dust covered
water stained
teeny tiny
little pieces
scattered
strewn about
lying in repose
and here I sit
aching this
old
familiar ache
longing
longing for someone
anyone
to help me
help me
pick up the
pieces
pieces of
me
teeny tiny
me

.

.

                                                   7/11/15

                                                    ©Patti Keno

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tiny poems from my past

These poems are from 93-96

.

.

No one wants to touch me

Who would dare

To try and

Touch the girl

Who is not there

.

.

I kiss your lips

with cold

intentions

I kiss your lips

with sweet

remorse

I kiss your lips

and linger

softly

I kiss your lips

and long

for forgiveness

.

Here I am

Dressed in red

Aimed to please

Am I dead,

or just losing my memories

.

Not dead,

just slowly dying

eyes are red

from all this crying

.

all poems ©Patti Keno

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I lost another one today

my heart broke again today
wanting and waiting and wasting away
Another moment lost
another tear to fall
he could have changed my life
he could have rocked my world
waiting and wanting and wasting away
lost once more on the sea
of yesterdays past
of people lost
moments gone
disappeared
they glare in front of me
making me ache
making my heart break
over and over again
i just want to hide
i just want to hide away
and lose myself
i just want to be lost
lost again
i don’t want to see
i don’t want to see
what i know I can NEVER have
what i know i can NEVER be
i don’t want to see
waiting and wanting and wasting away
i lost another one today
i lost another one today
whimper want or whisper stay
i lost another one today

.

 .

03/29/04
.

©Patti Keno

.

“whimper want or whisper stay” is a line by Shane Murphy

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the smile

It started with

a smile

a quick hello

an innocence

shared

an electricity

crackling

in their

eyes

 .

It started with

a smile

a simple caress

an innocent

kiss

a tender

word

full of

meaning

.

it started

with a smile

and lived

and entire lifetime

in the span

of a minute

as her imagination

built an entire

lifetime

of love

based on that

one smile

.

.

                                                3/17/00

                                                ©Patti Keno

.

to “the Man I always drop things in front of”

 

 

 

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Sideshow

I belong in a circus, in the sideshow

“Step right up! See the blue haired girl! Silent Patti from Detroit!

She never speaks! The only one in existence!”

I belong in there, not out here with you

The shiest girl with the hottest man

It doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem fair.

I belong in the freak show, standing next

to the two-headed goat

“Step right up! See the purple haired girl! Silent Patti from Detroit!

She never speaks! The only one in existence!”

That’s how I feel

I shouldn’t be here with you

I shouldn’t be anywhere, but locked away

in a cage at the sideshow

at the freak show

Where only the creeps want to hit on me

I belong in there

because that’s where I belong

“Step right up! See the green haired girl! Silent Patti from Detroit!

She never speaks! The only one in existence!”

 .

 .

 .

                             8/17/00

                                ©Patti Keno

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that which…

that which…

that which is empty and

clean and dry

.

that which…

that which is aching

inside of me

that which

 .

I tried to see that which

lies within

but it’s too expensive to

see

 .

that which…

that which is hidden

inside of me

remains hidden

forever

 .

that which…

that which I hold so

dear is lost

.

that which…

that which forever

tears me apart inside

remains hidden

that which

 .

.

                                                           10-25-95

                                                                    ©Patti Keno

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Geppeddo

Swirling around me
they giggle and point
and laugh at my hair
as i am trapped
in my cage
behind all the faces
all the porcelain eyes
that seem to protect me
but expose me at the same
time
.
they move around my cage
threatening me
with their questions
their longing stares
no no
not me
I’m not the puppet master
no no
not me
I don’t control the strings
I’m just Pinnochio
a wooden boy
waiting to be real
hoping to be real
one day
.
I sit in my cage
and hope you don’t see
me
hidden behind my fears
hidden behind
these eyes
that protect me
but scare me all at once
.

.

11/9/01
©Patti Keno

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