Am I a bit autistic?

I wonder if I am, sometimes. I exhibit a few of the signs, but nothing intense. I have to force myself to maintain eye contact. It's near impossible for me to make friends. I'm leery of doing something new and different, including seeing movies; I prefer to rewatch classics or movies I liked over and over again. I like predictability. I lose interest in projects quickly, once they become too demanding. And I hate moving anywhere that I don't know anyone.

This evening, I spent ten minutes in my kitchen trying to decide about making another peach cobbler with Bisquick...while holding the box in my hand. Couldn't decide between hot tea or another DPZ, to drink.

And yet, I can reach the point where I say fuck it to anything that's bothering me and do whatever I need to do. I can slowly...very slowly....make myself complete something that does mean a lot to me. Like A Place of Safety. But I was fighting myself every step of the way.

And when it comes to working out social situations, I can be amazingly stupid or dense or whatever. And fly off the handle if things get too hard to face or control.

But at the same time, I don't have many of the other symptoms. No hand-clapping or humming...though I do still brutally bite my nails, to the quick. And I'll go after the cuticles, too.

What gets me going through stories like Blood Angel and such is writing very intense sex scenes. Some nice. Most cold and cruel versions of rape. When I'm working on that I'm almost happy. I tell myself it's because I'm venting my anger or letting off prurient steam...but it's because I've never been willing to become that involved with anyone. It's my outlet for not having human contact.

Hell, not wanting human contact.

So...I watched The Thursday Murder Club and smiled and snarled about the changes they made. I hated what they did with one of the characters, turning him from a brute to a tragic figure. And then, since I had to sign up with Netflix to do it -- $20 a month for no commercials!! -- I rewatched The Glass Onion. Because I knew the ending.

This may be something I need to ask my Dr. about.