Jack And Anna - Back To Winnipeg

Journal 3

Okay, so, I shouldn’t have said that. You ever have one of those moments where this little voice in your head keeps shouting, “Stop! Stop?” But the words keep pouring out of you because you’ve been holding them in for so long?

I guess, in my defence…No, scratch that. There is no defence. I knew that Anna was struggling with all this. She didn’t need my existential angst on top of her own. Also, she’s out there, worrying about practical things – like getting her family back – and here I am, asking stupid questions like, “Do you think I’d be a jerk if I were neurotypical?”

Which, in hindsight, kind of implies that I think neurotypical people are jerks. So, a bit of a moral lapse there. Especially in the presence of my wife, who is probably allistic. I’d also like to apologize to anyone who is reading this. I mean, who am I kidding? No one’s going to read this. But just the same, when I say something awful, I feel I should at least acknowledge it.

The purpose of these journals was to help me work through a few things. So, maybe, instead of dancing around the point, I should actually start doing that.

Do you remember those kids I mentioned, the ones who stood and watched while the bullies beat me up? Let’s disregard the ones who got a little s******c joy out of it, because I have no idea what to do with that. That sort of thing is beyond any moral event horizon I can imagine.

Let’s focus on the ones who were embarrassed or uncomfortable but who couldn’t find it within themselves to say anything. I always thought that kind of thing was a moral failing that people could outgrow with a little patience and support. A steady diet of Star Trek convinced me that humanity would eventually evolve to a point where we were all prioritizing sound ethical principles over group membership.

Star TrekBut what if I’m wrong?

What if those kids couldn’t help it? What if all the adults who did the same thing at so many points throughout my career can’t help it either? What if something in their brains compels them to value group identity over anything else? The jolt of pain they get from speaking out is just too strong. Sort of like how I can’t eat tomatoes without gagging. It’s not a choice.

compelsI can pick up a slice of tomato, and I can put it in my mouth. But something about the taste and the texture will trigger a gag reflex. And it’s completely outside of my control. What if it’s like that for neurotypical people? What if the pain of social rejection is just too powerful? It’s a reflex. They can’t turn it off.

I mean, it’s not like I don’t feel the same pain. I do. It’s just that, for me, the pain is irrelevant. You know, before Larani, a guy named Slade was running the Justice Keepers. And I knew there was something shady about him. I kept saying that he was up to no good, and everyone kept telling me that I was a troublemaker, that I wasn’t a team player. Even Anna was starting to doubt me.

knewTurns out Slade was working for the Overseers.

Did it hurt when my colleagues rejected me? Of course, it did! But that pain is nothing when compared to the damage that someone like Slade could do! So, how can I possibly justify prioritizing my hurt feelings over the lives that Slade might destroy? I’m sorry, but that’s just the way I see it.

I hope Anna can forgive me.