Trigger Warning:Ableism, Strong Language
There is something dreadfully wrong with the world, when you discover you have a condition you were born with, a condition that defines you and you are afraid to tell your own family on fear of hatred
I remember about a year ago, I was at my aunts house and one of those despicable reality shows was on: "Beauty and the Geek". One of the contestants openly stimmed in the presence of of the girl they were all vying for. I recognized it as exactly the kind of behavior I taught myself not to do anymore as a preteen. And then I saw exactly why I felt the need to hide it. My aunt said to the television "Drop dead, you motherfucker".
I don't wonder what the judgement against me will be from my family. I have already been judged. Now that i think about it, I am afraid of something that has already happened.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Turn down the contrast
I have learned that sleep issues and insomnia are a symptom of Aspergers. I have always had sleep patterns that are unusual. I can remember when I was about 4 being awake most of the night and contemplating whether or not sleep was something I would ever do. I was awake (and stimming) that much.
My mother had an unusual sleep schedule. She would stay up past midnight and set her alarm to go off at around 4:30am. Then she would hit snooze repeatedly for the next 2 hours. I asked her why she did that once. She told me that if she ever fell into a "dead sleep" she did not feel well.
I believe I have the same issue. There is 3 types of sleep I go through.
Light sleep: This is when I barely sleep at all. It can be because I am stressed out but more likely a major change in my routine is incoming (like having to go to bed and get up 3 hours earlier) I sleep lightly for an hour then wake up feeling like I was hit by a bus, more tired than when I went to bed. I cannot sleep again regardless of how exhausted I may be. I have taken up the silva method and meditation but neither of those help much in this scenario other to relieve the stress and anxiety caused by not sleeping. I go through the day very groggy and with low energy. Not really irritable or depressed, just tired.
"Normal" sleep: My normal is similar to the situation my mother set up for herself. I awaken from a good deep sleep after about 4 or 5 hours and doze lightly for the next 2 or 3, being asleep half the time. I have a decent chance of remembering my dreams during the first phase and an excellent chance of remembering during the 2nd half. My moods and senses are what I consider to be normal.
"Dead" sleep: I fall into a dead, deep sleep and do not awaken for at least 7 hours. Sleep experts would tout this as an excellent nights rest. I call it a disaster in the making. My head hurts and feels heavy. My mood is very irritable. I am very disoriented and easily confused. Aspie deficits manifest in exaggerated ways. I can't understand what people are saying. Sounds are loud and painful. Right now I feel the vibration of my eardrums with every stroke of the keys. If you have ever turned the contrast on your TV too high, that is what the world looks like to me. Its as if there is a distortion field between my eyes and what I am looking at. Meltdowns are rare in my 30s, but if its going to happen this is when. If I sleep for 9+ hours in this manner the results are a call off from work and a lost day.
This morning is a "dead" sleep morning, 7 hours. A few hours ago I was too disoriented to make this post. I'll manage.
My mother had an unusual sleep schedule. She would stay up past midnight and set her alarm to go off at around 4:30am. Then she would hit snooze repeatedly for the next 2 hours. I asked her why she did that once. She told me that if she ever fell into a "dead sleep" she did not feel well.
I believe I have the same issue. There is 3 types of sleep I go through.
Light sleep: This is when I barely sleep at all. It can be because I am stressed out but more likely a major change in my routine is incoming (like having to go to bed and get up 3 hours earlier) I sleep lightly for an hour then wake up feeling like I was hit by a bus, more tired than when I went to bed. I cannot sleep again regardless of how exhausted I may be. I have taken up the silva method and meditation but neither of those help much in this scenario other to relieve the stress and anxiety caused by not sleeping. I go through the day very groggy and with low energy. Not really irritable or depressed, just tired.
"Normal" sleep: My normal is similar to the situation my mother set up for herself. I awaken from a good deep sleep after about 4 or 5 hours and doze lightly for the next 2 or 3, being asleep half the time. I have a decent chance of remembering my dreams during the first phase and an excellent chance of remembering during the 2nd half. My moods and senses are what I consider to be normal.
"Dead" sleep: I fall into a dead, deep sleep and do not awaken for at least 7 hours. Sleep experts would tout this as an excellent nights rest. I call it a disaster in the making. My head hurts and feels heavy. My mood is very irritable. I am very disoriented and easily confused. Aspie deficits manifest in exaggerated ways. I can't understand what people are saying. Sounds are loud and painful. Right now I feel the vibration of my eardrums with every stroke of the keys. If you have ever turned the contrast on your TV too high, that is what the world looks like to me. Its as if there is a distortion field between my eyes and what I am looking at. Meltdowns are rare in my 30s, but if its going to happen this is when. If I sleep for 9+ hours in this manner the results are a call off from work and a lost day.
This morning is a "dead" sleep morning, 7 hours. A few hours ago I was too disoriented to make this post. I'll manage.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Broken Leash
Coming face to face with the truth of my asperger's syndrome hasn't set me free. It just made me aware of the leash I am on. It is easy to make pretend that you are free when you are on a leash tied to a pole in the middle of the yard, and you make no attempt to jump the fence.
The problem is, I am not so content to sit in this yard anymore and scratch myself. My thoughts, ideas and visions are wasted..and I know it. With every interaction I have with people now, the anxiety I had learned to ignore has returned. Did I communicate properly? Did this person like me? Was I a jerk? For the last few weeks I have found myself missing the false confidence I had with people.
There was a sign of improvement yesterday. My anxiety ceased, and I was able to use some of my pre-programmed chat skills again. I have much anxiety, because my entire existence up to this point had been based on the illusion that I am normal. An illusion I have spent a lot of time on. The root of discontentment is wasting valuable time.
When I was 12, I was walking my dog, Wendy. She was a sleek, strong and very, very fast dog with brown hair with spots and runs of black in it. Her muzzle was grayed too at this point because she was getting old. I was walking her with a chain leash and a choke collar on a cold night sometime in winter...February now that I recall. She was trying to drag me through the parking lot and back into the apartment building. She knew supper was waiting. She pulled so hard that she snapped the chain leash. She ran free and galloped through the parking lot for a minute or two before returning to my side. I should have been concerned when she did this, I even thought I should be concerned, but I wasn't. I was proud of her.
The problem is, I am not so content to sit in this yard anymore and scratch myself. My thoughts, ideas and visions are wasted..and I know it. With every interaction I have with people now, the anxiety I had learned to ignore has returned. Did I communicate properly? Did this person like me? Was I a jerk? For the last few weeks I have found myself missing the false confidence I had with people.
There was a sign of improvement yesterday. My anxiety ceased, and I was able to use some of my pre-programmed chat skills again. I have much anxiety, because my entire existence up to this point had been based on the illusion that I am normal. An illusion I have spent a lot of time on. The root of discontentment is wasting valuable time.
When I was 12, I was walking my dog, Wendy. She was a sleek, strong and very, very fast dog with brown hair with spots and runs of black in it. Her muzzle was grayed too at this point because she was getting old. I was walking her with a chain leash and a choke collar on a cold night sometime in winter...February now that I recall. She was trying to drag me through the parking lot and back into the apartment building. She knew supper was waiting. She pulled so hard that she snapped the chain leash. She ran free and galloped through the parking lot for a minute or two before returning to my side. I should have been concerned when she did this, I even thought I should be concerned, but I wasn't. I was proud of her.
Into the Rabbit Hole
Trigger Warning: Mass murder
Mass killings in America are nothing new I am afraid. When something like the Gabby Giffords incident comes up, or the theater shooting in Aurora happens, I digest it, call family, make the obligatory "OMG I don't believe this" comments at work. Say a prayer for the victims before bed, then go on.
Its not that I don't feel horribly about this, it is more of the feeling that this is just a fact of life. Some young man the media claims is off his rocker will shoot up a place every so often. It could happen to anybody. Its an assumed risk you take on when you walk out the door in the morning.
But something about Sandy Hook made me think. Was it the proximity to me? Was it that it was children? Somewhat. What got my mind racing and my heart sick was the early media speculation that autism and asperger's syndrome played a role in this.
I will admit that I was not the leading expert on autism. I knew from experiences from school and work that people with autism were a unusual bunch, prone to tantrums on occasion. But not the kind of people that would premeditate a massacre on innocent children. It seemed like the mass media cop out of the moment. I really needed to understand how asperger's could have possibly contributed to this incident.
This led me to research it for the first time in my life. I say that as if it is a shock that I researched something. When I want to know something, I become as stubborn as a bull until I have that which I seek. I latch onto something and I devour it until there is no more. Considering I deal with the mentally disabled at work 8 hours a day, you would have figured I would have latched onto this. But up to that point, I had chosen ignorance on the topic. Complete ignorance. Complete denial.
Reading the symptoms of asperger's syndrome was like reading the instruction manual that came out of the birth canal with me and was consequently tossed in the trash. No eye contact: Yes, it hurts to make eye contact. I trained myself to do it about 10 years ago when my sales job was in jeopardy, and unemployment would have meant certain homelessness. I even remember the showers of praise I recieved from management during a performance review. It still hurts but I do it
Physical gestures: My friend who worked at the same place and helped me get the job literally taught me to parrot his gestures. I went the first 22 years of my life stand stiff as a board when I spoke. I had actually always wondered why people gesture with their hands and bodies when they speak. Just get the information out and be done.
Vocabulary development: My grandmother would gush on how I was able to read and discuss a book on Oceanography when I was 3, and I had consumed most of Carl Sagan's Cosmos before 4. She really believed I was headed for NASA. In 3rd grade I was made to spend lunch break with a speech therapist, who worked with me on the flow of a conversation. Particularly letting other people into the conversation. I rather enjoyed the therapy because it got me out of the cafeteria, which horrified me.
Obsessions and Repetitive behavior: The first absolute obsession I recall having was "Back to the Future". I watched it three or 4 times a day at least. I recited the movie word for word as it played along. My mother bought me a nintendo in 3rd grade, and I became hooked on the repetitive music (still am).
Stimming/hand flapping: I could not sleep well at night. I remember when I was 3 or 4 I would lay in bed and let my imagination run wild. I would turn my head back and forth on my pillow for hours at a time. If I did not do this, the vivid pictures in my mind would not come to life. I still slept in the same room as my parents (we were broke), yet nothing came of this.
I didn't start hand flapping til I was in 2nd grade (that I can recall). Group work and book work stressed me horribly. I could not use my imagination. I would twirl my fingers, scratch myself violently and get out of my seat and spin around in circles, right in the middle of class. This earned me a few trips to the school shrink. But again. nothing came of it.
The ridicule and subsequent bullying I recieved as a result of this taught me that I was weird. My "Street smart" older sister and my father ironed into me that under no circumstances can I be weird or different from anyone or I will not survive. And I took survive literally...meaning that I believed that kids were going to kill me if I acted weird. So I learned to keep the stimming and other eccentricities as private as I could. To the point that I began to deny these behaviors both outwardly and inwardly.
Also I skipped til I was about 12. I skipped as much as possible. I rarely walked unless forced to. Whenever I skipped, my mind would take flight, just like with the head rocking. I skipped so much I plled my hamstring several times doing it.
Details orientation: Have I included enough details in this first post. I have many. many more which I can share, but I have much need for sleep.
Point being, I had come to realize, through my research that I had been living a lie, the lie being that I am normal, or that I can choose to be if I try a little harder. This is what I am, undeniably so.
They say the truth sets you free. The truth has sent me to the bathroom with indigestion the past 5 weeks and made me reaware of all my social quirks and insecurities. But I have not gone far in life making myself out to be something I am not. I will give this self honesty thing a try.
Mass killings in America are nothing new I am afraid. When something like the Gabby Giffords incident comes up, or the theater shooting in Aurora happens, I digest it, call family, make the obligatory "OMG I don't believe this" comments at work. Say a prayer for the victims before bed, then go on.
Its not that I don't feel horribly about this, it is more of the feeling that this is just a fact of life. Some young man the media claims is off his rocker will shoot up a place every so often. It could happen to anybody. Its an assumed risk you take on when you walk out the door in the morning.
But something about Sandy Hook made me think. Was it the proximity to me? Was it that it was children? Somewhat. What got my mind racing and my heart sick was the early media speculation that autism and asperger's syndrome played a role in this.
I will admit that I was not the leading expert on autism. I knew from experiences from school and work that people with autism were a unusual bunch, prone to tantrums on occasion. But not the kind of people that would premeditate a massacre on innocent children. It seemed like the mass media cop out of the moment. I really needed to understand how asperger's could have possibly contributed to this incident.
This led me to research it for the first time in my life. I say that as if it is a shock that I researched something. When I want to know something, I become as stubborn as a bull until I have that which I seek. I latch onto something and I devour it until there is no more. Considering I deal with the mentally disabled at work 8 hours a day, you would have figured I would have latched onto this. But up to that point, I had chosen ignorance on the topic. Complete ignorance. Complete denial.
Reading the symptoms of asperger's syndrome was like reading the instruction manual that came out of the birth canal with me and was consequently tossed in the trash. No eye contact: Yes, it hurts to make eye contact. I trained myself to do it about 10 years ago when my sales job was in jeopardy, and unemployment would have meant certain homelessness. I even remember the showers of praise I recieved from management during a performance review. It still hurts but I do it
Physical gestures: My friend who worked at the same place and helped me get the job literally taught me to parrot his gestures. I went the first 22 years of my life stand stiff as a board when I spoke. I had actually always wondered why people gesture with their hands and bodies when they speak. Just get the information out and be done.
Vocabulary development: My grandmother would gush on how I was able to read and discuss a book on Oceanography when I was 3, and I had consumed most of Carl Sagan's Cosmos before 4. She really believed I was headed for NASA. In 3rd grade I was made to spend lunch break with a speech therapist, who worked with me on the flow of a conversation. Particularly letting other people into the conversation. I rather enjoyed the therapy because it got me out of the cafeteria, which horrified me.
Obsessions and Repetitive behavior: The first absolute obsession I recall having was "Back to the Future". I watched it three or 4 times a day at least. I recited the movie word for word as it played along. My mother bought me a nintendo in 3rd grade, and I became hooked on the repetitive music (still am).
Stimming/hand flapping: I could not sleep well at night. I remember when I was 3 or 4 I would lay in bed and let my imagination run wild. I would turn my head back and forth on my pillow for hours at a time. If I did not do this, the vivid pictures in my mind would not come to life. I still slept in the same room as my parents (we were broke), yet nothing came of this.
I didn't start hand flapping til I was in 2nd grade (that I can recall). Group work and book work stressed me horribly. I could not use my imagination. I would twirl my fingers, scratch myself violently and get out of my seat and spin around in circles, right in the middle of class. This earned me a few trips to the school shrink. But again. nothing came of it.
The ridicule and subsequent bullying I recieved as a result of this taught me that I was weird. My "Street smart" older sister and my father ironed into me that under no circumstances can I be weird or different from anyone or I will not survive. And I took survive literally...meaning that I believed that kids were going to kill me if I acted weird. So I learned to keep the stimming and other eccentricities as private as I could. To the point that I began to deny these behaviors both outwardly and inwardly.
Also I skipped til I was about 12. I skipped as much as possible. I rarely walked unless forced to. Whenever I skipped, my mind would take flight, just like with the head rocking. I skipped so much I plled my hamstring several times doing it.
Details orientation: Have I included enough details in this first post. I have many. many more which I can share, but I have much need for sleep.
Point being, I had come to realize, through my research that I had been living a lie, the lie being that I am normal, or that I can choose to be if I try a little harder. This is what I am, undeniably so.
They say the truth sets you free. The truth has sent me to the bathroom with indigestion the past 5 weeks and made me reaware of all my social quirks and insecurities. But I have not gone far in life making myself out to be something I am not. I will give this self honesty thing a try.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)