Trigger Warning: Bullying
I have spent a lot of time over the past week thinking about what my answer to that should be, or even if I have a right to answer it. The investigations that led to my self diagnosis began after last thanksgiving, and I came to my conclusion right around christmas.
That moment gave me a brief liberation, as I finally had a word that described me. I was an "aspie". YAY!!!!
Then the reality set in. I found out I was a camouflaged member of an extremely marginalized, abused and discriminated against group of people. I felt unworthy, I felt like a coward. I am "passing".
I learned to start passing in 2nd grade. I had many awkward moments in K and 1st but I was not friendless and antisocial, just weird. In 2nd we were given group assignments. I did not feel comfortable in the group and I would stare at the floor, flap my hands and scratch myself through most of the morning. One of the "cool" kids took to imitating me in front of the class. The teasing and bullying became contagious. People who were my friends for the last 2 years took to mocking me. One day after school, a bunch of kids. It was probabaly 10 or 15 kids but at the moment I thought it was 100. They stood about 30 feet away, some behind trees and booed me. A few threw rocks and pine cones. A few were the same kids that voted me class president the year before. My teacher started sending me to the school psychiatrist daily. I wonder what diagnosis was on the table? I spent a lot of my time there, but nothing I know of came of it.
I felt like I wasn't smart anymore, I wasn't good anymore. In 3rd grade I spent my lunch hours with a speech therapist, because I had developed a lisp and I spoke out of place in conversations. I realized being myself was being loathed by others, so I figured out the best thing I could do was be invisible. I became conscious of my flapping. I stopped raising my hand in class. I answered wrong on purpose sometimes. I opted for the library over the playground or spent recess time in the bathroom. It took a long time to learn to disappear. I was picked on for my eccentricities throughout school. I had severe meltdown issues my first year in college as I felt forced to socialize (party) nightly with my peers. Sophomore year I opted for a solo dorm rather than a roommate and got approved. I made occasional public appearances as to maintain the fact that I was not dead, but I had finally succeeded. I disappeared.
I disappeared so well that no one noticed when I dropped out of college 2 years later. I supported myself working night shift at a 24 hour fast food place. I job hopped for years. Out of desperation I took a pressure sales job at an electronics retailer. Fortunately, they had good sales training with how to videos. I established a formula for eye contact and making small talk and actually became an above average performer, though the anxiety I felt was overpowering. I eventually quit that job and holed myself up for 7 months with saved money.
None the less, I learned to pass, to hide myself and appear "normal" in that fashion. Anything I did that was abnormal, like head rocking, flapping, listening to repetitive video game music and hip hop beats over and over for hours I discussed with no one ever. I watch news so I have something to discuss if ever engaged by anyone in small talk. I have learned to deflect conversations and questions about myself. I wear nondescript clothing showcasing none of my interests...
Getting to the topic of this flash blog thingy (I am very new at this!). I don't know very many autistic people besides myself. And I relive these past experiences with the new found knowledge and wisdom that I am Autistic. And I read the incredibly heart wrenching things that self advocates have to say about their experiences from these blogs. All I can say is that:
Autistic people should be Free.
Showing posts with label passing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label passing. Show all posts
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
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.
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