Aspie Writer’s Quick Reading List: My Ten Most Popular Blog Posts for 2012

This is just a quick list of my top ten blog posts this year.  Thank you all for reading! Have a happy and healthy New Year!

1. Why you should never ask an Aspie, "How are you doing today?" 

2. Be Careful of What You Say to ASD Children; the literal-Minded 8 year old

3. Aspies do not lack empathy; we crave it.

 

4. I Married an Aspie - A husband's perspective on Asperger's Syndrome

5. DSM-V - New Diagnostic Criteria for ASD – What will this mean for me, an Aspie?

6. High Functioning My Ass-perger's Part II: Massive Sensory Overload and Major Meltdown

7. I am not ignoring you; I don’t recognize you

8. My Awesome Aspie Teen: Praising the Good Stuff

9. A Voice in a Fake World; Asperger's on the Inside--Social Frustration

10. The Adderall Experiment: Irritation and Headaches

 

Bring on 2013!

 

Navigating the Holidays with Autism: Part II: Is your Aspie a Christmas Control Freak?

Let’s talk about control. 

Autistics have a deep seated need for control. A need for routine, and to control our environments is paramount. In fact, it is very difficult for us not to do things the way we have always done them; the way we know they should be done.  Unfortunately, my rigid, often completely inflexible thinking does not allow me to be flexible (I am working on it). The problem is when things don’t go as planned, as expected, as they should go, I come unglued. 

Children can have complete meltdowns with small changes in their routines, heck I can have a complete meltdown with small changes.  I even need to make a list of all the stores I need to shop in and in which order I will visit them.  Believe me these lists are well thought out, planned, and I have a reason for the order (although you may not see it).

If my shopping trip, which is already a sensory nightmare, goes askew, I am done. I might as well go home, and you may be able to find me in the parking lot of a large shopping center in tears. I can’t get away from my plan; I need to follow it precisely. 

The same goes double for holiday preparations.  I am a complete Christmas control freak. I take way too long to pick out the perfect Christmas tree, and then figure out how many strings of lights it needs.  When it comes to decorating the tree, there is an order I must follow.  First all the white balls go on the tree, and then the red ones.  The red ones must be spread out evenly so they are not too bunched up and the dots of red are sprinkled through the spruce. Then and only then, do I begin to distribute the nicer ornaments, the heirlooms, and other decorations.  After that, garland, Father Christmas, ribbons, and the snow—in that order, no changes.

MUST FOLLOW THE PLAN

Needless to say, I am not very fun to trim the tree with. I don’t mean to be completely neurotic, I cannot help it. We MUST FOLLOW THE PLAN! Again, there is a reason for my plan, and a reason for the order we must trim the tree in, but if I begin to tell you what it is we will be here all day.  Why don’t they just trust me? 

In my last post, I discussed our problems with gift giving and receiving. We hate surprises! To be honest, surprises are stressful, and I can wind up a teary mess, as can my Aspie Teen.  Therefore, all gift giving is thoroughly planned out. I have lists of people, lists of gifts, prices, coupons, store locations—it’s very comprehensive.

Before diagnosis I just believed as I was told, I was a neurotic lunatic!  There still may be some truth to that statement. But, now understanding my need for routine and order coupled with my need to plan and know what to expect, my family can now adjust.  I in turn can learn to let go a little bit knowing that many times it is just my autism jumping in and interfering with my flexibility.

This year was better (so far), we all trimmed the tree, and I tried not to touch it too much.  I tend to re-place all the ornaments that everyone places because they are not in the right spots. This time I just handed the ornaments out—in order of course.  Then I saved the last few things that I couldn’t be flexible about to do myself. I spent much less time being annoyed, yelling, and making everyone re-do the tree.

No Surprises!

Now let’s go back to gift giving for a moment. I told you that we all make our Christmas lists.  This year, and he has done this every year, Aspie Teen is trying to micro-manage my Christmas shopping.  He always makes me a list (his Santa List) complete with prices and pictures (I wonder where he gets that from??), and then he starts to obsess about it. Adjusting his list, removing things, replacing things, finding better deals, and in general driving Mom crazy!

He has asked me for the Assassin’s Creed Gauntlet. It is a replica of a weapon from one of his video games. The thing has been on backorder since October. Would you believe that he has been monitoring the backorder situation and has found that it is now available in limited quantities online.  Last night, I caught him researching what materials the thing is made of, some kind of polymer plastic, and something else (I wasn’t really listening too intently since he’s been driving me crazy about this thing since October).

I tell him every year to make me a list of all his most wanted gifts, and we will see what he gets. (It was easier when he still believed in Santa!) It goes in one ear, and right out the other.  Every day so far since giving me his list, he checks on my progress.

“Mom, did you buy…yet? Because …has it on sale right now.” He says.

He is driving me absolutely bonkers, and making me wonder if I am this bad! 

The answer: Yes.

In fact, I buy my own Christmas gifts!  Then I tell my husband, “Here, this is from you.  These are from the kids…etc.” So unfortunately I must report that not only am I as bad as Aspie Teen, I am probably worse!

Don’t be too dismayed, I drag my husband into the stores now and make him pick out his own gifts too.  There really is no reason to spend time and money on getting him something he doesn’t really want.  If I do pick up a gift without him, I always show it to him to make sure he will like it before I wrap it up and put it under the tree.  Poor guy, no surprises for him either—ever.

Navigating the Holiday with Autism; Part I: Not sure what to get your Aspie for Christmas? Ask them!

Ever since I was a child I had an extreme need to know exactly what to expect. I hated surprises, and I still do!  My mother often complained how I was a “little bitch,” her words because when someone gave me something I didn’t like I was not polite and gracious about it, I said what I felt. There was no hiding that I was not going to wear that ugly itchy sweater, and even when I was a child I thought it silly to lie and say that I loved it when you’d wasted your money purchasing it for me.

Wouldn’t it be better to just buy me something I wanted?

I know Christmas gifts are supposed to be surprises (who made that up anyway?). Why do we need to be surprised?

My husband used to like to shop for clothing for me. He loves to shop; going to the mall is his favorite thing to do. He even loves to window shop—all of which I absolutely hate, especially if its clothes shopping.  I have too many sensitivities, there are too many things that I absolutely will not wear for other people to buy me clothes.  I don’t even like buying me clothes.  I usually find a pair of jeans and a shirt that I like and then buy that same shirt and jeans in all the colors they come in. When I find something that fits and is comfortable I must seize the opportunity.

Hubby used to constantly buy me clothing for gifts only to have to take them back, which he did not appreciate. I wasn’t sending things back to be mean or rude; I simply saw no reason to keep things in my closet that I knew I would never wear. Now, after 15 years, hubby is used to me—and I buy my own gifts.

Yes—I buy my own Christmas gifts.  (Stop laughing)

Hubby is still telling the story of our 10^th wedding anniversary when I came home wearing the new wedding band he had bought me.  What? I gave him the receipt. Unfortunately, I think hubby likes surprise and I am so completely incapable of even contemplating surprising him. So he now sends me a list (with pictures) of the things he may like for Christmas, he gives me a list with options (another bad idea).

I on the other hand usually pick out one or two things I really want and that is my entire list…it is all I really want and never expect any surprises under the tree.

So what does this all have to do with Asperger’s/Autism? It is an intense need to know what to expect, and the inability to hide feelings or catch the comments from jumping out of our mouths when the “surprises” are not what we expected. This is not meant to be unappreciative, or to be rude—not at all. In fact, I truly don’t want anyone to spend money on me, least of all waste their money on something I will never use.

My 13 year old Aspie Teen is the same way, many times even upsetting me. He doesn’t mean to be rude, but if the gift he opens is not exactly, and I mean exactly, what he expected, asked for or wanted, you will know about it.  He doesn’t let you know in a rude way, or I should say he doesn’t MEAN to be rude. He will say something like, “ya, it’s nice, but…”  That but, could be it would be nicer in black, or Game Stop had this game with special features, or something that makes you want to smack him!  But that is just him, he’s not being mean, he’s really not, just as I wasn’t when I was a child. He just gets very stressed if things are not exactly as expected.

Our Solution

The solution in our house, so Mom is not a teary mess on Christmas morning, is our Christmas lists. We all make lists, now similar to the ones that hubby does with the things we would like, complete with pictures, prices, and where to purchase them.  I know this sounds ridiculous to many people, or you may think it ruins the magic of Christmas and the surprises of gift-giving but it does not—not for us.

Another important thing that I need to note here are that Aspie Teen, as well as, myself becomes very anxious the closer to getting gifts of any kind we get. It doesn’t matter if it is Christmas, birthdays, whatever, for reasons that I don’t completely understand sometimes, getting gifts is stressful. That’s not to say we don’t like getting gifts, but I would truly rather give them than to receive. Maybe it is because I know that I am scared to open boxes that are a mystery. I worry about what is inside, if I will like it, and if I do not, if I will be able to control my facial expressions and tone of voice.

Of course this has gotten better with age and experience, but for the spectrum children this may take a very long time.  Just know that if your little one or loved one is like this about gifts that it is not being ungrateful, mean, or trying to hurt you in anyway.  It is just their wiring.  If you really want to make someone happy, or you are stumped for gift ideas, please just ask. It has saved us a lot of grief and needless hurt feelings.  

Up Next… Is your Aspie a Christmas Control Freak?

DSM-V - New Diagnostic Criteria for ASD – What will this mean for me, an Aspie?

Asperger’s Syndrome, PPD-NOS, and Autistic Disorder will be removed from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5), which will be published and in effect in May of 2013. Those disorders will now be included under one umbrella diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD).

To be honest I am torn about the new DSM-V. On one hand I have finally found out what has been “wrong” with me my entire life. Being diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome came as quite a shock to me and many others, but in reality when the shock wore off, it was a tremendous relief.

I finally had a name for my difficulties. This will not change under the new DSM-V because I am clearly within the new diagnostic guidelines for Autism Spectrum Disorder.  In fact, I actually fit those criteria more accurately than the previous.

The part that concerns me most is the removing of the name, Asperger’s Syndrome. I understand that we as people are not a name, but it almost feels like invalidation. For 38 years I did not exist, no one saw my autism/Asperger’s, and now on some level I feel like it has happened again. I finally had a group of people to which I belonged, to identify with (Aspies), and then someone comes along and decides…well that doesn’t exist any longer.

Are we also invalidating all of Hans Asperger’s work with these autistic individuals? What about all the scientific research that has included Aspies as a group, will it still be valid? I think there are many questions rolling around in my mind that no-one can answer just yet.

On the other hand, I have noticed that with the label Asperger’s, opposed to Autism, sometimes our difficulties are minimalized.  After all, Asperger’s is a mild form of high-function autism, isn’t it?

In my short time online writing and blogging, I have had more than one comment to that “Asperger’s does not equal autism, it just doesn’t.”  Yes—we all have differing degrees of difficulties, and there is no doubt that I function differently than a person profoundly affect by autism. But, that does not mean my difficulties are not real.

One thing the new diagnostic criteria will do is label all of us autistic. No more minimalizing of those with Asperger’s or PPD-NOS, we will all be recognized for the difficulties that we do indeed have. This alone may be a good thing. 

I visited with one psychiatrist, who insisted that she’d worked with Aspergerian children and has never seen an adult with Asperger’s.  Then categorically denied that my diagnosis could be correct based on those terms without talking to me, looking at my records, or discussing my history.

Yet another doctor (a neurologist) questioned the validity of such a syndrome even existing, and this was not long ago. He went as far as to say that if they say it’s that (Asperger’s), “that means it’s all in your head.” What? My Sensory Processing Disorder is in my head? Really?

These are some of the things that MAY be corrected with the new umbrella diagnosis.  Now, let’s look at what that criterion is:

DSM-V Criteria for Diagnosis Autism Spectrum Disorder

I have borrowed the following criteria from John Elder Robinson’s blog post, How Will the DSM VChanges in Autism Affect People? I’ve added made my own highlights.

“This is the proposed definition of ASD. For a person to be diagnosed, they must meet criteria A, B, C, and D.

A. Persistent deficits in social communication and social interaction across contexts, not accounted for by general developmental delays, and manifest by all 3 of the following:

1. Deficits in social-emotional reciprocity; ranging from abnormal social approach and failure of normal back and forth conversation through reduced sharing of interests, emotions, and affect and response to total lack of initiation of social interaction,

2. Deficits in nonverbal communicative behaviors used for social interaction; ranging from poorly integrated-verbal and nonverbal communication, through abnormalities in eye contact and body-language, or deficits in understanding and use of nonverbal communication, to total lack of facial expression or gestures.

3. Deficits in developing and maintaining relationships, appropriate to developmental level (beyond those with caregivers); ranging from difficulties adjusting behavior to suit different social contexts through difficulties in sharing imaginative play and in making friends to an apparent absence of interest in people

B. Restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior, interests, or activities as manifested by at least two of the following:

1. Stereotyped or repetitive speech, motor movements, or use of objects (such as simple motor stereotypies, echolalia, repetitive use of objects, or idiosyncratic phrases);

2. Excessive adherence to routines, ritualized patterns of verbal or nonverbal behavior, or excessive resistance to change; (such as motoric rituals, insistence on same route or food, repetitive questioning or extreme distress at small changes);

3. Highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus (such as strong attachment to or preoccupation with unusual objects, excessively circumscribed or perseverative interests);

4. ** Hyper-or hypo-reactivity to sensory input or unusual interest in sensory aspects of environment (such as apparent indifference to pain/heat/cold, adverse response to specific sounds or textures, excessive smelling or touching of objects, fascination with lights or spinning objects); (emphasis mine)

**This is new

C. Symptoms must be present in early childhood (but may not become fully manifest until social demands exceed limited capacities)

D. Symptoms together limit and impair everyday functioning.”

My Thoughts

I have highlighted above some the most important things about this criterion, and what I consider to be the most concerning. 

To begin with, the first section, A, highlights social interactions and to receive/maintain a diagnosis of autism spectrum disorder, you must meet ALL THREE OF THE DEFICITS highlighted. It bothers me that autism is still being categorized so strongly as a mainly communication disorder because socializing is only the tip of the iceberg when we look at autism as a whole.

For the most part I believe that if you have a diagnosis anywhere on the spectrum you will likely retain that diagnosis given even the three socialization based criteria use such a broad non-specific language. It does give doctors much latitude in diagnosis. Who is to say what abnormal social approach is? What exactly is normal?

I think that we have an improvement of sorts in section B, where patients are required to exhibit two of the four symptoms listed. This is the first time that Hyper-or-hypo reactivity to sensory input has been included in autism diagnostic criteria.

I am extremely happy to see this added with the hope that the medical profession may be beginning to see this part of our difficulties.  If I had to pick just one aspect of my autism that gives me the most trouble, is the most disabling, and the most concerning to me, it would be my sensory issues—no contest.

I suspect the same is true for many spectrum children. From my experience, I can tell you that many meltdowns, “temper tantrums”, and outburst and complete shutdowns where I’ve closed myself off from the world were directly connected to the amount of sensory overload I experienced.

It bothers me a bit that it has taken so long for someone to recognize sensory reactivity as part of autism. Then again, it bothers me that it is effectively labeled a mental disorder and included in this manual at all, but that is a discussion for another time.

Section C: Symptoms present in early childhood; checck. Read about my childhood here.
Section D: It is subjective, but standard--impairs everyday functioning: check.
After reviewing the new criteria, I am assured that I will retain my autism diagnosis; it will just be called Autism Spectrum Disorder. I can simply say that I am autistic without explaining what Asperger's Syndrome is because most people have at least heard of autism. I am NOT worried about losing a diagnosis.; I am only losing a label that I have come to identify with and for me that is sad. I am after all, Aspie Writer.  Should I change my name?
So now that you know what the new criterion is, what are you thoughts? Do you welcome a change in diagnosis? Horrified by the invalidation of Asperger's? What will this mean for your/our children? 

Through My Eyes Only; Asperger's in the First Person

"Having Asperger’s is like writing in the First Person—I only see what I can see through my own eyes, and I have no knowledge what is in other people’s heads." ~ Aspie Writer

I am told that writing from the first person point of view (POV) is challenging—that many writers have difficulty not describing what their character cannot see.  For example, if someone is sneaking up behind your character with a knife, you cannot write about it.  The character does not have eyes behind her head; therefore, she cannot see who or what is sneaking up behind her.

If you are writing in the first person, you can only write what your character sees with her own eyes.  It sounds simple, but it is not.

Personally, I find it to be the easiest POV to write.  I’m told that is odd.  I think that many writers run into difficulty because they tend to describe what their characters would not notice.

If my character walked into her own bedroom, she is not thinking the russet bedspread draped perfectly over the end of the bed. If there is nothing out of place, she is not thinking anything about her bedspread.  It is just there as it always has been. 

She doesn’t describe her coppery locks because that is just what has always sat on her head.  She will only notice (and she is the one telling the story after all) what is different, wrong, or out of place.

Now if she walked into her bedroom and the bed is in disarray and the pillows tossed on the floor (not at all the way she left it), then she will tell us about the condition of that bed.  It is different, wrong, out of place—otherwise, there is never an occasion to mention it.

Luckily when you read a book, you can get insight to what other character’s think and feel by what they do—their actions, their mannerisms, the described facial expressions. Those are the things I “miss” in real life.

“Other people do not see, feel, and experience the world like I do.”

There are many things I am now learning about myself that are different than other people.  I am only now discovering, most of the time by accident that other people do not see, feel, and experience the world like I do.

The other day I was trying to explain to my doctor how I taught myself to learn.  When I was in college (the first time over 20 years ago) I practiced remembering the lectures.  I used all of my senses to do it. 

I recorded the professor’s lecture in order to replay it, using my sense of hearing to commit the material to memory. Then I read the text, using my sense of sight to brand the information into my mind.

If it was important I hand wrote the notes in order to move with the words, and use my sense of motion and touch in order to learn the information. Believe me—when I am done learning something I want to know (Aspie Keyword: want), it is branded on my brain.  I am not going to forget!

Lastly, I read the notes aloud—again, using my ears to hear, but mostly reading aloud was to feel the words.  It was this last thing that raised the doctor’s eyebrows. (Look at me, I noticed!)

Ok—you got me, no, I did not notice. I continued to ramble on, but he stopped me.

“Wait, go back,” he said. “What do you mean you feel the words?”

He did not understand what I was talking about. Apparently, I am the only person that has ever told him I can feel words. 

I can feel my words like a rhythm in my head, and I can commit the rhythm to memory, not the sound of them but the feel of the words. Their unique vibration…

Doesn’t everyone feel the words they speak? What about other people’s words? Can’t you feel the vibrations they make?

 “Great, I’m the weird one again.” I sighed.

“No, you are not weird,” he replied, “I am limited. I cannot hear or feel as much as you can.” 

An awesome answer by the way—now you see why this particular doctor is a keeper.

I was completely stunned. I never considered that other people did not feel the words. Even though I knew that others did not hear the humming of the fluorescent lights, or taste the smells they come in contact with, it never occurred to me that they didn’t feel vibrations from words and sounds.

I never mentioned feeling the words before because it is normal for me; it is just the way it has always been.  I didn’t consider it; I didn’t see it sneaking up behind me.

What else do I not see?

A new refrigerator was delivered the other day. When I opened it, I realized that one of the metal brackets that spans across the shelves on the door (the ones that would hold your milk in place) was missing.

My husband promptly called the store, who verified that the part was still sitting there, and went to pick it up after work yesterday.  Last night I immediately noticed that he had not yet put the bracket in the refrigerator even though I knew he went to pick it up. 

Today I have been in that refridgeratior a hundred times.  I noticed nothing.  When hubby came home from work tonight, he said, “You didn’t even notice that I put the bar in the refrigerator.” He was fishing for compliments.

“I must have noticed it,” I said.

 He frowned. 

That door shelf never caught my attention today.  Even after grocery shopping, and spending a lot of time opening and closing the refrigerator door, nothing stood out at me.  To me, this means he fixed it.  Why? 

My eyes are automatically draw only to what is wrong, different, or out of place—so like my fictional character nothing caught my attention, and so there was nothing to mention.  The bad part is sometimes it makes it easy to only point out the flaws in things, and people’s mistakes—but that is a topic for another day.

I am not ignoring you; I don’t recognize you

This week I am working on writing a feature article on Face-Blindness for a writing class that I am currently taking this semester.  Our assignment was to first pick our topic, which I have, and before writing research pictures to enhance our article. Easy peasy.

The Unexpected – What I learned about me

 

I guess I learn something new about myself every day. This can be excited, frightening, confusing, and almost all the time frustrating. Searching for pictures related to my essay topic was no exception.

I have been practicing searching for pictures to correspond with topics for a while now, and have been incorporating photos into my blog posts. So for me this assignment was simple. I went to Wikipedia commons (looking for photos that I can use with creative commons licenses), then I searched Google imagines.

Many great photos appeared on my screen. This is the first time I hunted photos BEFORE writing, and it had an interesting and unexpected outcome.

As I mentioned, my topic is face-blindness. People with autism often suffer from face-blindness ranging from slight to severe. Face blindness can cause you not to recognize people even when you have interacted with them before, sometimes even if you have seen them every day at work.

If you take the person out of context (out of uniform, see your son's teacher in the supermarket instead of in school, etc.) those who are "face-blind" will not recognize that person. This explains how I was able to work with people every day (who wore uniforms), and still not recognize them on the streets.  And I mean—not at all! Learning about Face-Blindness after my diagnosis put many experiences in my life in perspective.

Back to the Pictures

Several really cool pictures caught my eye, and I snatched them up for this week's assignment. What I did not expect was to learn something about myself from the pictures. There was one picture.... It is a girl holding a sign that says, "I am not ignoring you on purpose."

That photo slapped me in the face and left me staring blankly at my computer screen. I had never considered that when I don't recognize people who are familiar with me, that they may think I am just ignoring them!

The discovery of this picture illustrated my "mind-blindness." I too often lately realize how much never crosses my mind. I would have never/and never have before thought that someone would think I was intentionally ignoring them.

I know that it sounds silly, and now that I think about it I feel silly--because it makes sense. If you didn't know that I struggled with face-blindness, and I walked past you in the supermarket oblivious, you may think that I was ignoring you ON PURPOSE.

My picture hunt gave me clarity and insight—an insight that I likely would not have had, nor expressed in my written article had I wrote FIRST. So thank you to my professor for this assignment; it highlighted my mind-blindness.

 

Everything I see lately reminds me of how Mind Blind I can be.

The thing that is disturbing me lately though is that it seems I am discovering more and more how truly mind-blind I am. It is a hard discovery and I have often been stunned at my, what now feels like, ignorance.  I always thought I read people well, I thought I was intuitive, I thought I was brilliant, and there was just something wrong with the rest of the world!  Ok—many times I still think that.

This is the first of a series of posts that I am going to begin; the “What I Learned About Me Today” series, because it seems I am continuing learning something new and often stunning (to me). 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Voice in a Fake World; Asperger's on the Inside--Social Frustration

A Voice in a Fake World; Asperger’s on the Inside

A simple invite to a coffee shop can be an overwhelming experience for an Aspie, those of us with Asperger’s Syndrome. The coffee machine frothing, customers placing orders, the door opening and shutting letting in the distracting sounds from the outside are just a few of the background noises that my senses fail to filter out. All the sounds come at me at the same time, all wanting my immediate attention.

I desperately want to stick my orange and green foam earplugs into my ears, but that would be rude. Besides, they make me look the bride of Frankenstein. I slip my hand into my pocket and squish them between my fingers instead. The cushiony feel of them between my fingertips makes me feel better; a stress ball and security blanket in one.

Several women sit at the table sipping lattes and discussing their kids, the neighbor’s new boyfriend, and the latest church gossip. It all sounds like noise, jumbled words that all blend together, and I cannot hone in on any one voice, on any one topic, or any one conversation. I fidget in my seat. I'm lost and I can't keep up, so I say nothing; I have no voice.  

The sun shines through the glass sending blinding rays directly at our table; no-one else notices. I slip my sunglasses over my eyes. We are just a tad too close to the restrooms, and when the door swings open the faint smell of urine mixes with the smell of cappuccino in the air. My stomach churns, jumps, and I try not to heave; no-one else smells it.

The conversation fades into the background as I retreat into my own world. I have nothing to contribute, no idle chitchat to add. My mind is wondering—contemplating the next chapter of my book, my next blog post, the mound of books that I want to get back home to read.  Back home to my computer screen. I love my computer—all my friends live in there, the people who I can talk to, the ones like me, the ones who understand me.   

My cellphone dings, and I smile on the inside. I steal a glance at the phone; do not be rude! A little square green face pops onto the screen. I know I received a text message. Another ding, a small envelope—an email is waiting. A tiny pastel blue bird chirps—a new tweet mentioned me.  The royal blue “F” indicating a new Facebook message or comment has my fingers tapping the screen, forgetting where I am. What do my virtual friends have to say?   

Their words are in black and white, I can read them, process them, take a breath, and think about what I would like to say. I respond in my time, without pressure, without chitchat, with earplugs in, with quiet contemplation. They speak in turn, one message to read at a time, and if I miss a word I can go back and reread it again. No strange looks for wearing my sunglasses indoors, or odd stares because I didn’t get the joke. If I am overwhelmed I don’t have to respond immediately; I can breathe; I can be me.

In my virtual world I have a voice. I can “talk” without worrying about how I sound, if I spoke out of turn, or unwittingly offended someone. I can put my words to the page in a logical order, say what I mean, and mean what I say. In my fake world, I am real, I am alive, and I have something worthwhile to say. In the real world, I am fake, voiceless, a mannequin, posing, pretending to fit in. I grasp for logic, meaning, and order--but there is none. 

The conversation died down, but I hadn’t noticed. Purses were gathered, and coffee cups cleared. “We’ll have to do this again soon,” followed by a polite smile. Was she talking to me? Soon? How soon, when?

“Um, Ok,” I say. I sling the strap to my purple purse across my shoulder, unclip my car keys from the belt loop on my jeans, grab my phone from the table, stick it into my back pocket, and head for the door—glad that my coffee with strangers is over. Exhausted.

The next time I am invited to attend, I say I will, but won't show up.

Why you should never ask an Aspie, "How are you doing today?"

I don't know if my issue with this question is related to social expectations and my reaction to making these social blunders, or if I can't get past my literal-mindedness and need to provide answers to questions. But--if you want to stop me dead in my tracks, just ask,

"How are you doing today?"

 

My Brain Just Shut Down!

 

Seriously. My brain has just instantly flipped into question and answer mode. A minute ago you smiled at me, and could have just said "Hi."  

I've never understood why it was necessary to use this question as a greeting. If you ask me a question, I am going to answer it. After all, why would you ask something you didn't want to know right? 

My husband says that it is just a way of being polite, a way to acknowledge someone. To which my reply was, "Why can't you just say hello, if it is just an acknowledgement?"  

To those without Asperger's this may sounds like a ridiculously silly little thing. To them, it is understood that the person doesn't really want to know how you are doing. They just ask to be polite.  

What they fail to realize is that, I do understand it is a form of social nicety. I do. I do not fail to comprehend this. But—when  I am going about my business, thinking about something, answering the telephone, making an appointment, or walking into an office to ask for something, and you ask me how I am doing. My brain shuts down.  

What I was doing was interrupted with a question. I lost my train of thought, and I usually begin to answer the question. The problem is that I tend to remember too late that I wasn't supposed to answer. The correct response is: Fine, how are you? And then continue talking as if no-one asked any questions.  

My highly logical brain finds this completely illogical! To make things worse, it takes me a few seconds to remember that I am not being asked a question I’m supposed to answer, and many times I am left standing there feeling like a complete idiot. 

 

Thoughts Are Interupted

My thoughts were already interrupted, my focus high-jacked, and I am beginning to formulate my answer. How am I doing today? Is it compared to yesterday, in general, or is the question about my work? Was I productive today? Crap! I’m off schedule. Wait...OH YEAH! This isn't a real question, disregard, and pull out standard correct answer: Fine, how are you?  

Sound crazy? It makes me feel crazy. 

As some of you know a couple of weeks ago, I decided to go a professional budgeting/financial counselor to try to get my craziness in order, again. I called, left a message, and was waiting for a call back with an appointment time. When the phone rang I knew it was my call back (caller I.D. of course). I answered. 

Me: Hello? 

Caller: Mrs. (Aspie Writer)? This is Ms. Counselor from Counseling Services. How are you doing today?  

Me: Oh...umm…ugh, yes.  

Then the beating begins… 

The tape player in brain started playback with voice over. You idiot! How are you doing today? Oh...umm...ugh...yes....really? You sounded like a babbling idiot. She is going to wonder what in the world is wrong with you. Maybe I should have just answered the question. I am not doing real well today, I called her. That would indicated I need help with something; therefore, I am not doing just fine.  

Something similar to this will happens almost every time I encounter this innocent nicety. My brain flips from greeting mode, to question and answer mode. Then it takes me a few moments to realize it and switch back. By that time, I have forgotten what I was doing or going to say, and/or missed part of the conversation. 

In the above example, I missed the first part of our telephone conversation because I was still stuck on the question and the inner monologue going inside my head. I completely missed what the woman said, and wound up having to make repeat it. I was then quite frustrated with myself. My brain is exhausting! 

So my question is:

Why can't you please, JUST SAY HI?

Just one innocent, little, half-baked question throws stumbling blocks in my path. Am I alone in this? Does this drive anyone else to distraction? Have you found yourself really answering the question, only to realize that you were standing there going on and on and no-one cared?

 

 

I have Super-powers! My son's impression of Mom

Super Powers Aspies and Alphas

As I was sitting at my computer tinkering with Facebook today, I could hear my 13-year-old son cackling at something in the living room.  He laughed so hard that he fell off the sofa.

Half out of breath, he comes running into the room. "Mom, Mom, you have got to see this!" He pointed to my Ipad that he held in his hand, and then stuck one of his earphones in my ear. "Mom...watch this...Gary," more cackling, "He's just like you!"

My son's new obsession is a show called Alphas?? I living in my bubble the way I do, have never heard of it. But according to TV.com, Alphas is a Syfy Original series where, "A group of everyday people who possess uncanny neurological abnormalities is working for a secret government agency. This elite group is able to uncover what the CIA, FBI and Pentagon cannot or will not solve."

Very cool, I thought, right up my alley.  My son loves to find things that we can watch together. I don't know if any of you have seen this show; I haven't yet.  The only thing I have seen so far is this clip that my son showed me.  The one that had him cackling and falling on the floor because "Gary is like Mom." Enjoy.





I have been laughing all morning. I suppose that I am going to be watching Alphas now with Aspie Teen, who by the way, typical of him has been repeating this whole scene verbatim all morning.

Putting On My Dressed-Up Feet

Tales of a Totally Ridiculous, Typically Aspie Me

Today hubby and I traveled two and half hours down to Charleston, SC, to meet with a financial/budgeting counselor.  (This in my opinion was a colossal waste of time, and not an appointment I was looking forward to—but after my 150^th (at least) financial binder that got thrown aside again, I agreed to give it a try.

I can always tell how my day is going to go the minute I step into the shower.  Hubby took little guy to school, so I schlepped off to the shower, picked through a few towels (too scratchy, too old, doesn’t smell quiet fresh enough) until I found the ones I wanted.  I tossed the towels over the side of the glass door enclosures, tilted the shower head toward the far wall and turned the hot water on full blast.

(I can’t seem to quench the urge to take extremely hot showers, for someone who has temperature regulation issues; this is probably not a good idea.)

I put my tip toe through the doors, the floor was nice and toasty inside the stall (I hate stepping onto a cold shower floor), and so I slipped in. 

The minute I slipped my hand under the stream of water, I knew.  The water felt like little glass shards smacking the backs of my hand. “Damn it!” This was going to take longer than I had originally thought.  I lowered the temperature just enough to make the painful water flow bearable, then tried to rush through my routine. Shampoo…lather…rinse, Conditioner…lather…rinse…

When I shut the water off I reached quickly for the towel, which must have fallen from where I slung it.  No time to retrieve it, water was running onto my face, and I was getting frazzled. (Some things—like the way I panic when water hits my face, have never changed from when I was a child) I lunged toward the towel hanging on the rack; almost busted my ass trying to reach it with my eyes scrunched tightly shut, and smashed my face into the towel hoping to dry it quickly.

           To my horror, it was wet! This was not the towel I picked out for my shower…it was the one that was on the floor!  This towel must have been tossed on the rack to dry after someone else’s shower….ugh!

By the time my towel fiasco was over, I was sweating, felt a little dizzy, and I could feel my heart thumping in my chest.  I needed to sit down and cool down.  I was completely overheated.  This happens to me all the time, I get overheated way too quickly, feel nauseous and dizzy, need to cool down, and then get too cold too quickly.

Now I’m sitting on the lid of the bowl wrapped in a towel trying to cool down, but I don’t have time for this today.  Being in a rush I had to no time recover from the assault of the shower, before moving onto the brushing my teeth and dressing. I sat for all of two seconds before jumping up and heading over to the sink for teeth-brushing time.  Brush…brush…gag…brush...gag… great!  Although I managed to get through teeth-brushing without losing my breakfast  coffee, I was still dizzy from the heat in the shower and fighting back the nausea from the retching.  This is not an unusual drama when I am having a sensitive day, which is more often than I would like lately. 

I quickly towel dried my hair, ran a brush through it, and slapped it up in a ponytail.  I slathered moisturizer across my face, washed my hands, and furiously wiped them on the towel.  I hate the way lotion feels on my hands. 

I was reaching for a pair of denim shorts I’d tossed on top of the vanity a few days earlier, when I remembered what hubby said before he left. “I picked out an outfit for you; it’s hanging in the bathroom.”  I growled, but he knew that I would grab a pair of grubby shorts and whatever tank top was at the top of the pile in my drawer with a matching pair of flip flops and head out the door.

I turned and smiled a little bit when I saw the hanger holding a pair of blue jeans, and a simple black shirt. This I can do.

I had myself mostly ready when hubby returned with my mother in toe to watch the kids; my black flip flops in hand.

“We are going to an appointment, so you have to get a little dressed up,” he said. “I took out your little black shoes, the ones with the small heel.”

“Come on, really?” (Sigh) “Fine.”

When I was sitting in the waiting room awaiting our appointment, nervously talking too much and too loud, and squishing my foam earplugs into different shapes,  I looked down at my dressed up feet hanging out of the bottom of my blue jeans and thought, that’s pretty funny, these are my feet all dressed up.

But the problem was now that my feet looked dressed up my unpolished toenails were out of place. I told hubby that I was going to write a blog post about my ridiculousness and let him take a picture of my dressed up feet, but first I would have to polish my toes!

It has been a while since I’d bothered to pick up a nail polish bottle. “Six months,” hubby says.  I corrected him; it has only been five months. I know this because I bought the orange polish, put it on one time, the night before we left for vacation in May, and then tossed it back into my make-up bag never to be used since.

As for how the actual meeting went—there is too much ridiculousness to write about it in this post, but I promise more on that is coming.

I got home from the wasted day after my hubby treating me to a wonderful soup and salad lunch at Olive Garden, (they have the BEST Gnocchi soup!) I headed to the living room after typing this blog and the following conversation with Aspie son took place. What a way to end the day!!!!

Aspie Teen: Mom why are you putting your shoes on?

Me: Because I’m taking a picture of my dressed up feet for my blog.

Aspie Teen: You better make sure only your feet get in the picture Mom.

Mom: Why???

Aspie Teen: Because Mom, your hair is a mess and it looks like Mrs. Frankenstein!!!!

I’m going to kill me an Aspie Teen!