Mourning the loss of "Why"

First, I must make my apology for being silent for an extended period.  Suffice it to say, it was unavoidable and I will do not wish to bore you with the details.  I will say that recent events have left me in reflective mood; hence the subject matter today....

I have been tasked to support literacy in a class where many of the students speak English as a second language.  After the first lesson, I realised that grammar and spelling were not the issue.  The difficulty arose on interpreting the wording of the essay questions.  Students would wax lyrical about a subject without getting to the real meaning of the task.  It struck me that this is a difficulty I, and many autistic people share.

I spoke at length with their teacher about strategies for helping them with the questions which involved stating their understanding of psychologically-influenced decisions, and the discussion inevitably led to talk of our experiences of perspectives and misunderstandings.  My colleague mentioned a funeral he had attended many years before;  that of a male colleague who had died in an accident.  He mentioned the reaction of the man's autistic teenage son who, mid-ceremony, had turned to his grieving mother and asked if they could 'get a dog now'.

Now, I have a particular difficulty with emotionally charged situations, especially those as heavily shrouded in social rules and ritual as funerals...  I remember the funeral of my own father, when I was 17, and the huge anxiety I felt.  Interestingly, the anxiety was caused not by 'grief', but by the fear of not knowing how to 'act' at such an occasion.  The vignettes of outpourings of grief exhibited by the the other people at the funeral were at once fascinating and bewildering to me.  I did not cry, and although I was sad about the loss of my parent, I don't remember 'feeling' any different than usual. (I have strong emotions, but most of the time I struggle to connect them to particular experiences.) It did not affect me acutely, in the way it clearly affected others in my family. But I certainly felt shame. I could not conceive of trying to 'act' a certain way for fear of being 'found out'. I even spoke with friends at college and asked about grief, what it felt like, how it should be shown and how long it should last etc.  I waited for the feelings of grief (as described by my fellow students) to begin.  They never did.  What did affect me, was the clear concern and judgement on the faces of those who realised I was not reacting in the usual way.  I don't doubt the boy my colleague spoke of noticed peoples' shock and even disgust at his words.  I cannot bring myself to attend family funerals, to this day, for this very reason.

I thought about the boy my colleague mentioned and, after many years of avoiding the subject, I realised a sad truth.  It is not that I did not experience grief - it is just that grief is a constant. In one of our many TA workshops, we talked about 'the loss of "Why"  I must confess, the significance of this eluded me for some time, but I think I understand it now, and it is dangerous territory.

So, the "Why" refers to the process of making sense of the world around us.  It is about the journey we take through our experiences and the lessons we learn from them.  It is how we acquire the answers that allow us to grow in confidence and navigate the chaos that is life, and in the answers, we take comfort.

I crave answers.  Like many people with Asperger's, I am fanatical about researching, learning and sharing information, but there are vast tracts of my world that will always be closed to me:

I grieve for the things I have lost and the things I will never have.  Every day.  I grieve for the unspoken moments I have missed, the expectations I have not lived up to, the experiences I couldn't communicate, the joys that I couldn't share, the opportunities I never saw, the disappointments I have suffered.  I grieve for the friends I will never make, the belonging I will never experience, the camaraderie that cushions, the intimacy that soothes, the feelings and perspectives I will never understand.  (Regardless of new skills and perspectives... the volume is too great.)

Do not confuse this with regret.  Regret infers that there might have been another outcome had different choices been made. Grief is the response to the tragic, unrecoverable events that may happen without warning and despite our every effort.  Grief is my background.  My baseline.  It is the expectation of loss that insulates me from it.  My emotions are nerves stripped bare, the comfort of 'why' is absent, and I dare not dwell on it.

It is this fear that has me looking to the repercussions of actions, instead of indulging my emotions. (I do not have the experience or skills to indulge anyone else's.)  It is this that has me looking to the future to find new problems that I can fix, and this, I suspect, that led that boy to be thinking about a dog, when 'he should have been' mourning his loss to the world.

I don't mean this to garner pity.  Just perhaps to shed a little light on what might appear to be heartless, emotionless behaviour at a time when everyone is vulnerable.  Consider those who are so vulnerable, they cannot afford to show it.

The Trust Relationship Between this Workstation and the Primary Domain has failed...

I can only apologise for the delay in posting my blog…  I wrote one for February and also for March.  I will post neither as, looking back, they were not my thoughts.  Suffice it to say that, (due to my condition (chronic migraine and allodyna) and the medication I have to take in order to function) my personality, and consequently, my outlook were altered both pharmacologically and by sleep deprivation.  I have no wish to share these experiences, and I don’t think hearing my woeful rants written during that time will be of any benefit to anyone, least of all, me. 

Despite the weather and disruption of March, things have recently become much more settled for me.  The situation at work (which was responsible for many of the difficulties of previous months) has been satisfactorily resolved.  When things looked bad, I applied for another job and was invited for interview, which I attended.  Before they finished their deliberations, the problems at work had evaporated, and I withdrew my application - this time for the right reasons. (The hours didn’t suit; the commute was a problem…  It simply wasn’t worth the move, despite my delight at the possibility of working in graphics once more.)  There were emergent opportunities in my job for including some graphics and marketing work… things were looking up.

It got me thinking about ageing.  I will be 50 later this year, and I think I am finally starting to feel comfortable in my own skin.  I still have no well-formed sense of self, but I am much more likely to consider my own needs when making decisions.  I am happy with my current work situation.  So, is this really just a plateau in the profile of peaks and troughs?  I think not. 

A little while ago, I was introduced to Erikson's theory of the Psychosocial Stages of Development.  I suppose I approached in much the same way as someone would an astrological forecast – fitting my experience to the categories and feelings, but I was quite sure, that I had not come out of this process unscathed…

There is nothing like the first flickering shadow of one’s own mortality to make you reassess your priorities.  Life, it seems, is too short.  I have had an interesting and varied work life.  I don’t need a highly paid, high pressure job.  I don’t want a long working day and short holidays so I hardly see my son.  I have other things queuing up to fill my time:  I have a book to finish with my son;  I am a director of The Different Engine; I have historical events to attend; I have paintings to paint, music to listen to, et cetera and so on…

Perhaps it is this age-earned ‘wisdom’ that was responsible for my decision not to post my previous two blog entries… The confidence to wait is something I have always felt I lacked in the past – my need for additional time to process probably played into my anxiety for not responding quickly enough, and fear; my tendency to make panicked decisions.  With hindsight, the waters were always calmer than they seemed at the time; the tempest exaggerated or wholly imagined.  

Perhaps this is the wisdom of age, or maybe a by-product of deepening trust. Trust is a fragile thing, but I have followed some excellent advice a friend gave to me several years ago: Surround yourself with kind people.   Trust is fragile, but I now realise that it gets stronger when maintained.  I have acquired a very select but extremely high quality group of friends over the last few years, and I trust them as much and more, than I have trusted anyone.  But I nearly walked away from my job when I perceived that my trust had been betrayed...  But trust must be maintained in the face of apparent betrayal, to be sure there is no solution to be achieved, no corner to be turned... Because I waited, a solution was found, an apology and a commitment made and trust was renewed.  It made me realise  just how many times I may have turned away too soon....

There is a central principle in TA. Eric Berne initiated the principle within Transactional Analysis that we are all born 'OK' — in other words, good and worthy. Frank Ernst developed these into the OK matrix, (also known as the 'OK Corral' after the famous 1881 Tombstone shootout between the Earps and the Clantons).

I realised some time ago that, for the most part, I have spent my life in the two left hand boxes, and this position is indicative of a complete lack of trust (in myself and others).  The title of my blog is "The trust relationship between this workstation and the primary domain has failed" and is the only surviving element of my discarded rants of last month.  You can imagine my metaphorical interpretation of this innocent computer error message - it was very much in line with the bottom left hand square of the matrix:  “Everything is broken and it won’t get better.”

Now that things have settled somewhat and my trust is restored, I can put my title where it belongs which is in the top right hand square of the matrix:  “Ha! That error message is a T-shirt, right there!  I’ll call IT and they’ll come and fix it”. 

The best of times...

It's that time of year again, and I had hoped to have something heartwarming, insightful and completely out of character for a logic loving, systematic, no-nonsense Aspie, to share with you all.  My Christmas tree is still up, so I've thrown in some Dickens, and have sprinkled it with a comforting amount of efficiency in the form of a 'round-up of the last year' so I haven't completely thrown caution to the wind...

I have never read much Dickens, or Austen, Tolstoy or any of the other great writers who's chief delight was in spinning tales of the human condition and the intricacies of complex family or romantic relationships.  I've tried a few times, but I get lost quickly - there is little common experience here to keep my attention.  That doesn't mean I cannot appreciate the masterful and inspiring skill demonstrated by these giants of literature in smaller doses - they are, after all, eminently quotable.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair…" 

When I turned my mind to writing my personal round-up of 2017, it was this quote from Dicken's 'A Tale of Two Cities' that my mental Rolodex fell open on.  2017 has been a year of contrasts...

The year began with struggle.  I was desperately trying to manage an increasingly stressful job, (not, difficult, highly responsible, very important or suchlike... just really, unnecessarily stressful).  This was being made more difficult because I was trying to cope with debilitating migraines and equally debilitating side effects from unhelpful drug treatments.  There was, I noticed, an uncomfortable familiarity about the way I was treated as a migraine sufferer...  The lack of understanding about the condition, the isolating effect, the ineffectual and sometimes harmful treatments, the lack of available help:  I'd been down this path before...

But, (I said, boldly starting a paragraph with a conjunction, and including a split infinitive in the explanation) another path was being forged at the same time. This was taking place thanks to the tireless enthusiasm of a small group of people I have come to think of as Friends.  (I feel the need to pause and explain at this point, for those of you who might skip over the significance of this statement.  Naming someone as a Friend, for an Aspie, is akin to bestowing the Nobel Prize.  Make no mistake - great things will be expected. (I write this with the confidence of someone who knows their Friends will see the humour here - which is the most delightful part!))

The formation of our fledgling Charity "The Different Engine" has been a difficult, time consuming, fiddly, awkward, tough task.  And it has been an absolute pleasure to be a part of it.  At the start, thanks to the migraines, I could barely look at a computer screen, but now I have nearly finished our new website: TheDifferentEngine.net.  We have our workshops for next year set up, and interest in what we are doing is growing fast.  Leaflets, articles, books and conference appearances are in all the pipeline. I am learning more about myself and how Asperger's effects the way I experience the world around me, every day, and thanks to Rich Hall and Peter Fowerdew's Aspie TA, I can share this learning with my husband, son, students and anyone else who wants to know about it.

Without it, I would not have had the confidence to leave the harmful environment of my last job (because I wouldn't have recognised what was doing the harm).  I would not have had the courage to talk to prospective employers about my Asperger's, (for fear they would not understand) and they would not have realised the breadth of what I could bring to the role (I would not have had the language to explain).  The essential support and understanding of friends and family that I have relied upon through this difficult year would have been drastically reduced, were it not for the the fact that they have joined me on this journey, and we all now have access to this common language.  After 3 years of investigating this tool and its applications, it still amazes me that writing about it can still raise a tingle of excitement and a hitch of breath.

A last minute meeting, recently, proved to the icing on the cake for me...  I had agreed to come along to a meeting arranged by my friend Rich Hall, with a representative from an Autistic support organisation from which we had we both received support over the years.  I wasn't sure if there was an agenda, or if we were just testing the waters, but I listened as Rich spelled out the key stages of our work over the past few years.  Before long, my enthusiasm got the better of me and I there I was:  Waxing lyrical about my experiences and the way my cynical viewpoint had been changed irrevocably by the efficacy of these techniques and methods...  Our audience was somewhat taken aback by what we had achieved in the time since our previous acquaintance, and he spoke at length about his concerns about the direction of Autism research in the international arena.  It was heartening then, to say the least, to hear his positive response to our work - developed by NTs and Asipes together.  This is the most important type of endorsement in my mind - that of people who have lost faith in the systems that are designed to help people like us (most of them researched and designed by NTs in isolation, or using NT designed and interpreted research from autistic contributors)...  If they can see the benefit and scope of what we are doing, then even my appalling self-doubt cannot put up a sufficient argument.  'Nothing about Us, without Us' is one approach, but we chose to look beyond 'Them and Us' to the potential that comes from truly understanding the strengths of diversity  from both perspectives.  What we have achieved could not have been done by NTs or Aspies working in isolation.  We have tackled the barrier itself, and it has toppled.

2017 has indeed been a year of contrasts - illness and healing, leaving a job and gaining new employment, giving in and taking the plunge, despair and hopefulness, self-doubt and self-belief, trying to help and allowing myself to be helped.  Not as eloquent as Dickens, nor as dramatic, but I feel this year marks an important landmark.  "The Different Engine" is about to make a world of difference to a world of people, hopefully, two worlds.  I am very proud to be a part of it.

And now for something completely different...

I find myself in a difficult, yet familiar position.  I need to find another job.  My current role is fast becoming untenable, and the situation shows no sign of improving... despite my efforts.  I have been in this position many times:  That moment of recognition...  I cannot change the opinion of the people in my environment, and they have concluded that I will not change mine.  I am abandoned and, to them, have become nothing more than an irksome blockage in the otherwise fluid workings of the organisation.  It is a sad and repetitive cycle that I'm sure many Aspies will recognise.

I do not look forward to the prospect of job hunting.  I will avoid it at all costs - even to the point of staying in a role that is unsuitable enough to be damaging to my health and  home life.  "Why on Earth would anyone do that?!" I hear you cry.  Well, I'm tenacious. I don't like to admit defeat.  I always to do my job to the very best of my ability, which is not inconsiderable.  I do find it difficult to 'let go of the bone', so to speak:  I do not notice the metaphorical marker posts (clear to NTs) that are the clues to when efforts should cease, when it's time to negotiate a sideways move or make a complete break... When I reach the 'tipping point', it is only after I have become ill through stress from the constant mis-communication, the culmination of too many long hours, lack of breaks or exhaustion from high pressure deadlines...

My current role has been a little different in this sense. There are no long hours, no deadlines... just a combination of isolation, unrealistic expectation, management inefficiency and lack of support and recognition:  All things I like to think I am immune to - after all, haven't I dealt with such things on a daily basis for most of my life?

Eric Berne defined the fundamental unit of social action, and called it a 'Stroke'. So, if a 'transaction' is any social interaction, a Stroke is each social action considered individually, and can be positive, neutral or negative. Berne believed that we seek positive Strokes in our transactions. As an Aspie, I live in a world where positive Strokes are rare, and I can fail to recognise them even when they do happen.  But I live in hope.  On my better days, it is hope that gives me my drive, my motivation, my optimism.  But sometimes hope is my enemy, the slave-driver that keeps me scrubbing away at the same spot on the floor until my fingers are bloody and raw.

I am so used to trying to fit into the NT world and living up to NT expectations that I sometimes think I will never be able to stop, and 'be myself'.  The NT world is the only world I have known, until recently.  In order to break the cycle, confidence is key, but my picture of myself is just as skewed and incomplete as the one I am sure NTs have of me, and until I can see myself more clearly, I will surely continue to make the same mistakes.  And this is the thing that makes me dread the process of job hunting.

The complexities of NT world means that making social errors is easy...  Today, on my first outing into job hunting for a few years, I was dismayed to see how, over the last few years, the lists of requirements for prospective employees have lengthened and  become more severe; even for the most menial and poorly paid of jobs...  What confidence I had left immediately plummeted .  Although I am both accomplished and experienced, and a whole raft of other, what I am assured are, employer-pleasing things, I do not have a degree.  Therefore, as an Aspie, I would never apply for a job that states that a 'degree-level qualification' is essential.  I would limit myself to applying for jobs for which I have the stated qualifications, experience and abilities.  Simple, yes?  But, I am reliably informed, these requirements are not necessarily written in stone.

How can I hope to navigate the world of work when even the prospective employers don't necessarily mean what they say?  How will I know what expectations it's okay not to meet?   Am I expected to speculate about my ability to undertake tasks in a situation I have never experienced?  Should I guess about how I would progress, interact with other people I have never met?  Why is it okay to offer my qualification when I don't meet the requirements in the clearly stated language of the advert: Why say it's essential, if you are open to persuasion, why say it's desirable when it's not required in the role? Surely this practice of inflating requirements to raise the quality of the pool of applicants is ill advised at best and discriminatory at worst?

I feel very strongly about this.  How long has this practice been in use?  How many applications have been discounted based on my literal interpretation of the role?  And I always thought the interview was the hardest part....

Reciprocate or cooperate?

I am currently writing a book.  This is a collaboration with my son who's just turned eleven.  It's the most recent in a long series of collaborations with him on a number of different projects - most of them, unplanned.  For years, he has drawn fantastical beasts and regaled me with tales from an imaginary world.  We have a sketchbook where he draws his scenes and beasts, and I work on them in pen adding detail and lifting them from the paper with texture, shading and contrast.  I enjoy this process, but could never provide the initial ideas - I am creative, but not imaginative in the true sense. It is he who is the true creator. I am pleased that people enjoy the pictures, and I am particularly taken with their reaction to the level of detail.  I find repetition calming, and the process of filling a page with tiny orderly lines and dots, the antithesis of the difficult, time consuming and agonizingly boring task that most assume it to be.  My answer to the ubiquitous "How long did that take???!!" is "Not long enough".  My eye sees only error and perfection, efficiency and inefficiency, pattern and interruption. 

We follow the same division of work when we are writing:  He provides the story, the characters and the descriptions and ideas, and I impose order through structure and vocabulary, and style through visualisation and detailed description. It is a true and equal Partnership, with both parties cooperating and each providing something the other cannot (yet - I know he will learn).  Reciprocation happens naturally as part of the process of collaboration.

It occurred to me that similar "Partnerships" have been forged throughout my working life, in lieu of friendships, that are much more difficult and complicated to navigate... As someone with such a woeful record in friendship, I am, I realised, actually pretty good at forming partnerships.  I am a Designer:  A problem solver.  To do my best work, I need a problem (the bigger, and more complex, the better).  In the absence of such stimulation, I can be 'peripheral' like a machine waiting, dormant, in standby mode, for input.   This is poor fodder for friendships that require regular maintenance and reciprocation.  My strengths in this regard are welcomed in a crisis, but not in the everyday.

I find very few people easy to get on with.  Those, whose company I do enjoy, are either very similar to me (statistically, very unlikely) or the complete opposite to me (very empathetic). Working, as I did for many years, in Environmental Consultancy was perfect for me - giving me access to the to difficult IT and data problems I desired, the highly technical minds of the scientists and engineers and the immensely empathetic personalities of the environmental experts and ecologists, and I worked successfully on myriad projects from around the globe.

I recently asked my husband to take the standard tests (available online) that are used as part of the assessment process in diagnosing ASDs; The Autistic Quotient (AQ), Empathetic Quotient (EQ) and the Systemising Quotient (SQ) tests.  I filled in the same tests (there are different versions available) to provide some context.  Our scores were telling:
SQ: His score was 37 out of a possible 80, mine was 60
EQ: His score was 58 out of a possible 80, mine was 7
AQ: His score was 13 out of a possible 50, mine was 47

This certainly fits the pattern of 'exactly the same or completely different'.  Although it appears my criteria for a successful partner is easier to find in professional circles, it makes me immensely grateful for those relationships (like my marriage) that are found and forged elsewhere...

Fitting a square peg into a round hole is possible, 

but it helps to have the brightest minds in NASA working on it.

Friendly fire

I am often told that I am talented.  I am aware that this is meant as a compliment, but I struggle with the concept of compliments.  I am aware that the 'normal' response to a compliment (apart from acknowledgement and reciprocation) is to 'feel good about oneself, and thankful to the compliment-giver.'  It is almost entirely an intuitive interaction. With my logical, cognitive mind, I understand this to be the main purpose of a compliment.

In people such as myself, compliments are not given or responded to intuitively.  I have been known to wax lyrical about how uneasy compliments, in fact, make me feel... I know I have described them as being almost like physical blows, when I am feeling particularly vulnerable.  It is when you experience this without intuiting the good feeling, that a compliment can appear as an unsolicited demand for acknowledgement and reciprocation.

"What?  How cynical!" I hear you cry.  But I assure you, it is not cynicism that negates the positive effect of compliments.  It is merely an effect of applying logic ahead of emotion.  Let me explain:  To say I am talented, is no different (in my world) to telling me that I am above average in some way, at painting, singing, writing.  I know I can paint - I have spent more time than is usual in practicing painting techniques and have become quite proficient in certain aspects.  My immediate response to what is clearly a compliment, is one of confusion.  And herein lies the difficulty.  I will try to break down my thought process to make the outcome clearer: The Compliment:

"You are very talented" (Looking appraisingly at one of my paintings)

I am aware that stating something graciously, like "How nice of you to say!" whilst smiling appreciatively, would be ideal, but this is a false response which is dishonest, and cannot be entertained. The true response is more along the lines:

Oh God! A vague, subjective compliment! Right!  Don't panic!  What does talented mean?  Special? Better? Clever? Blessed? Gifted? Lucky?  Well, I'm none of those...  I just work hard.  There are many more able and innovative artists than me, so she's clearly mistaken.  Hang on, perhaps she's more qualified to tell the difference than I am... I wonder what her credentials are?  I would ask, but that might sound rude.  No, I don't recognise her - I assume she's just 'being nice'.  Is there a hidden agenda here? Right - that means I should say something nice back, and perhaps explain. "Thanks, but I'm not really - It's just something I do to stop feeling overwhelmed or bored."  Hmmm.  That didn't seem to be very well received... Smile your stiff, fraudulent smile and move away.

In my experience, compliments are not the inert selfless gift that they are considered by most.  In my experience they are potentially dangerous ordnance, that should only be handled by qualified experts. If they do find their way into the hands of rank amateurs such as myself, they need to be accompanied by detailed instructions for their safe disposal or deployment.

This may seem a little extreme, but please do not assume I do not appreciate compliments.  They just need to be reasonably well informed and specific.  I will find it much easier to engage with a compliment if it offers some new perspective for me to consider, new data to assess.  Compliments I have heard, and preferred include: "I have seen lots of this type of thing, but none of them quite capture the urban setting as well...", I could walk into your skies" and, (my personal favourite) "I like the dirt and the lamp-posts".

(I can engage with the the first, by asking what other similar pictures they have seen and how they differ; the second, by investigating the reason for this: The geometry? The light? The colour? The third is a statement I cannot argue with - it is a simply stated observation and preference pertaining to an aspect of the painting I had actually planned.)

Of course when they become more thoughtful and specific, they are no longer mere compliments -  they have become meaningful acknowledgement, considered observation and intellectual appreciation.  And these, Euler and I know what to do with...

"Gentlemen, that is surely true, it is absolutely paradoxical; we cannot understand it, and we don't know what it means. But we have proved it, and therefore we know it is the truth." (Bejamin Peirce)

A special sort of kind

I heard some excellent advice recently; this from someone who's judgement I have come trust in a remarkably short time.  He said : "Surround yourself with kind people."  This chimed with another piece of advice I read many years ago; a little snippet of wisdom from Ashleigh Brilliant: "Be kind to unkind people - they need it the most."

A little background....  A friend (and I use that phrase accurately for the first time in many years) was involved in a workshop/seminar about transactional analysis (TA)  which will probably be meaningless to many, but not so to psychotherapists of any ilk.  I first came across the idea years ago, after a recommendation from a psychiatrist led me to Eric Berne's book "The Games People Play" which seeks to demystify the mechanics of social interaction.  It did so, firstly, by identifying "Ego States" such as the 'Parent', the 'Child' and the 'Adult'.  The book was interesting, but I found the practise of using the theory to structure my interactions difficult and tiring.

I looked at the slides my friend was hoping to use during this workshop, and found them interesting. However, I didn't really see anything groundbreaking, mainly because I assumed, (incorrectly) that this was the same sort of thing as the ideas set out in Berne's book all those years ago.  I had recently had an exhibition of my work in central Bristol, and the Evening Post had done a story about it, with regard to Asperger's.  My friend asked to borrow a couple of pictures to take to his workshop to demonstrate the detail-oriented and systemising nature of the Asperger's brain.  I agreed and offered to help in any way I could at future workshops.

The workshop was a great success, and another was swiftly organised.  I was invited to attend in the capacity of co-presenter, which inferred a level of participation I wasn't sure I was ready to provide, but I was intrigued and went along...  I'd offered my help, after all.

That's how I ended up in a comfortable study, discussing TA with two PHD engineers, both trained in TA and one of them; a leading practitioner in using TA as a tool for psychologists working with Asperger's clients.  I could count on one hand the number of NT people who I have met in my lifetime with a detailed understanding of the nature and effects of Asperger's.  To meet someone who (despite being NT) has such an insight into the neurological differences, and the consequences of life with Asperger's, is exceptional.  To attend the workshop created by Rich Hall and Peter Flowerdew, and see the theories explained, and see them translated for NT and Aspie alike, is profound.  It is this inability to understand one another's worlds that is the root of much of the anxiety and frustration surrounding NT/Aspie communication.

I should pause here, to acknowledge the overwhelming kindness I experienced during this weekend. I would say it was a rare privilege, but that would be incorrect, as I have never experienced the like: A room of people who were genuinely interested in my experience, who were sensitive to my sensitivities and appreciative of my honesty.  They called me brave and extraordinary, and made me believe it.  They were a special sort of kind, and I include Peter and Rich in this description.  I was truly moved.

It's taken me a long time to process everything I saw and learned at the workshop, and I'm still absorbing and evaluating some of it.  However, it is clear to me now that the key to NTs and Aspie's understanding each other is the architecture of language.  This workshop centres on the different world-views of Aspies and NT and appears to cut straight to the key differences in the way we experience - everything.  It manages to translate these theories so that they can be used by NT therapists who are desperate to better understand and help their Aspie clients.

I won't go into details, as I am no expert, but one part in particular struck a chord that has kept me thinking on it ever since.  That is the striking realisation that the traditionally understood "Ego State" Models differ markedly for Aspies and NTs.  One particular slide which made a lasting impression, was that of a diagram showing the transaction of  conversation that I recognised from any number of exchanges with ex-employers.  The Parent and Child ego states take much from learned past experiences, and the Adult state is purely based in the present.  The way it is expected to go sees the Parent (Boss) asking the Child (employee) to do a task.  The Child is expected to respond to the Parent, (a parallel interaction) however, in Aspies, it is the Adult that responds, confusing the now 'Disparaging Parent' (Boss), and eliciting an assumption of a response from a 'Petulant Child' (employee being difficult and disrespectful), and not the 'Adult' state response it actually was. The startling connection that has made here, is that there really is no Parent or Child ego state for Aspies.  We really only interact in the Adult state.  This of course would cause enormous confusion in social interaction, and clearly does.  It was immediately clear to me that is is the dynamic behind many of the failed interviews, premature redundancies and abortive social interactions that have plagued my entire adult life.

This is surely worthy of much study, and as if to prove the point, workshop bookings are increasing exponentially.  I am keen to pursue this and help in whatever way I can, as it seems to be a huge leap along the way to mutual understanding between Aspie and NT, and promises more natural interaction without the expectation of the Aspie conforming to NT models.

To put it another way: "There is common ground, it's just not where we thought it was, so put down the net and the cattle prod, and let's talk..."  And it's the kind people who will oblige first...

Busy-ness as usual

Of all the behaviours that characterise my Asperger's there is one I struggle to explain to neuro-typicals (NTs).  It seems to be so alien a concept to most; one that NTs often rationalise it as 'showing off' or 'bragging' or suchlike.

I like to be busy.  It is integral to my continued functioning.  If I don't have enough to occupy me.... bad things can happen.  I am sure I have mentioned before, my dread at instructions like: 'Take it easy!'  'Relax!'  and my personal favourite: ' Chill.'  Clearly, these people do not realise that, without a suitable task to engage with, I might end up trying to start a conversation or similar lunacy.

Casual conversation is somewhat of an oxymoron for someone like me:  'Chatting' is such a complicated undertaking, I will try to avoid situations where it is likely to happen. Should I find myself unexpectedly alone and in unfamiliar surroundings, I start to panic a bit, often choosing to start a conversation in a bid to avoid appearing withdrawn and awkward.  However, my attempts are more likely to ensure I end up being precisely that.

So... I keep myself busy.  Every waking moment is taken up with a task of some kind.  Of course, I may choose something repetitive or non-physical when I'm tired, but I cannot simply do nothing.  And it needs to be interesting or relatively complex to keep my attention.  Even when watching TV - I cannot submit to 'mindless entertainment' unless I am actually trying to fall asleep.  If I want to relax, then I indulge in one of my interests - perhaps reading scientific articles, drawing, correcting grammar on blogs, researching some historical event... whatever takes my fancy.

There is a happy side-effect to this kind of activity:  One learns about things.  This can have the even happier effect of Making You Knowledgeable, but this is a double-edged sword which only becomes apparent when you attempt to use what you have learned in casual conversation.  I simply fail to differentiate between chatting about Gravitational B Waves and who got arrested on East-enders last week.  (There's a sentence I never anticipated writing!)  Clearly, one belongs in casual chat, and one does not.  The trouble is I cannot, for the life of me, understand why this should be the case.  Of course, the more you learn about the world, the less interesting the mundane, everyday things become, which compounds the problem.

When I attempt to inject this type of interesting content into conversation; (with my formal language and vocabulary) instead of  gleeful exclamation or an equally interesting tale in return, I am met with consternation, confusion or, even worse, the rolling eye smirk which is evidence that you have been consigned to the conversation dustbin as a 'show-off' or 'know-it-all'.  It is not my intention to belittle, nor to assert my superiority. Formal conversation with its rules and exchange of facts and opinions is much simpler to navigate: The idea of talking without objective purpose is difficult for me to fathom let alone, master.

This is all very well, and I can explain my motivations and understand the reactions I get in return...  But my choices in general conversation are limited:
1. I could explain the situation, and my odd behaviour to potential participants in a conversation. (A good way to end the chat before it starts.)
2.  I could learn the mechanics of transactional analysis (the psychology of social interaction) I have read several books on the subject, but it's very hard work to sustain conversation using these intellectual techniques)
3.  I could choose my conversations and subjects very carefully...(just wait until I meet someone else interested in quantum physics, clouds, 18th Century Naval history and ornithology...) or
4   I can learn to love internet cat videos and East-enders.... hmmm...

The home of all awkwardness... the wonderfully awful Bottom.

A little knowledge...

"We're all on the spectrum somewhere, aren't we?" I hear this phrase a lot from people who are well meaning, well-read and reasonably aware of Autism.  I used to accept it without question but, over time, my annoyance at the phrase grew until it was more likely to be met with angry disagreement.  People might as well have been saying: "Well it's nothing really, is it?"  or "It's no different to anything the rest of us have to put up with is it?" I have recently passed beyond this phase and now bask in the zen-like calm of someone truly at ease with the ignorance of others.  Too blunt?  Too judgemental?  Quite possibly. Let me explain:

It is widely understood that the Electromagnetic Spectrum comprises radiation of different wavelengths and frequencies.  They all have different characteristics, but they are all still radiation.  Most of us have heard of some of them:  Radio, Microwave, Infrared, Ultraviolet, X-Ray and Gamma Ray.  They are all invisible, but there is a small section in the middle of the Spectrum that is visible to the human eye.  The colours that make up this visible 'white' light are visible when white light is 'split' by a prism. This small part of the spectrum comprises most people's experience of light. We know the familiar colours of the rainbow and their characteristics - we see the effects of their wavelengths with our eyes as they are absorbed or reflected by different materials around us.  Everyone knows where they are with visible light.... Few ever feel the need to study the parts of the EM Spectrum which are less 'tangible'.  These are things that cannot be understood by looking in the same way we see visible light.

The Neurological Spectrum poses a similar problem - Everyone knows where they are with Neuro Typicals (NTs) even though they encompass a huge variety of different characteristics and behaviours. People with Autism, however, exist firmly in the less well known parts of the Neurological Spectrum; indeed we occupy our own 'Spectrum'.  As an Aspie, I find it hard to see things from the perspective of any one who doesn't share my little chunk of the Spectrum.  I now suspect it is practically impossible for most NTs to see things from my perspective.  How can someone who is NT begin to understand how someone with Autism experiences the world when the very tools we use to experience it are so different?  Try to convince an Aspie that you share their experience when you are NT, and you will probably meet some resistance.

In short - someone who is NT may share similar difficulties as someone with Aperger's, but the experience will differ enormously.  They may both get overwhelmed at a party, become tired and want to leave, but the Aspie may be so overwhelmed it brings on a meltdown....  They might both enjoy a walk in the countryside, but the Aspie might become so overwhelmed by the beauty around them that are driven to tears.  Stresses at home or work may get them both down, but the Aspie may be more likely to suffer a severe bout of depression.  Similarly, both may enjoy a well made film, but the Aspie may dissect it to the nth degree to fully appreciate the craftsmanship and recite volumes of observations to anyone available whether they watched it or not.

We all experience the same difficulties, ups and downs. How we experience them, and how they affect us however, is very, very different. It is clear to me now, that only the most exceptionally open-minded or highly perceptive individuals can look beyond their own NT experience and acknowledge that it is different for us... Which doesn't mean we should stop trying, of course!

To me it's a raven - to others a rabbit...  but I'm right (hee hee!)

'HTTP Error 404 File Not Found'

Many of us Aspies find ourselves spending a lot of time with computers.  This can be due to a number of reasons.  Some are particularly good with computers; coding, scripting, diagnostics etc. Others are users, like me; experts in using software for various purposes, or avid gamers or researchers.  Computers are logical and hold no surprises, and are a pleasant way to pass time without the hard work of interacting with people.  They behave as expected as long as you treat them correctly.  Overwhelm them with too much nonsensical data in too frequent tranches and, like Aspies, they will stop normal functioning, at least temporarily.  It is not surprising then, that some of us use computing analogies to explain how we gather and process information, and more importantly, what happens when our coping mechanisms fail us.

I have worked with computers since I left school.  As a graphics specialist, I rode the incredibly steep curve of technological advances that began in the mid 80's.  Many people will remember as clearly as I do, the instability and lack of reliability of the early PC software, hardware and peripherals; the fledgling email systems, compatibility problems, the early Internet, (when search results would number in the tens, not the tens of thousands!) poor processing speeds and the lack of data storage space.  My job meant I pushed hardware and software to its limits... The consequent error messages which accompanied the inevitable breakdowns now hold almost legendary status... You can buy t-shirts and other merchandise emblazoned with the messages.  They are also, quite conveniently analogous of my own internal systems breakdowns...

The Microsoft fatal error message known as The Blue Screen of Death, for instance: When this error occurred, there was nothing you could do but switch off and hope it would start up again.  Like many Aspies, there is a finite amount of data we can process over a given time without 'overloading'.  When my own 'internal system' has exceeded its capacity, it can no longer function, I have no choice but to switch off, withdraw from stimulus and wait until I can 're-boot'.

'HTTP Error 404 - File not found' is the message that comes to mind when I look to my 'catalogue of appropriate responses' and the relevant page is missing.  For myself, this happens when I have to deal with several stressful social situations within a short time.  These situations require intense scrutiny and lightning access to my catalogue but if the page is missing: Error 404 File not found (Having Trouble Talking to People Error: Appropriate response not found).

If software is not functioning as it should, surely and upgrade is in order? So how does this work for Aspies?  We cannot upgrade our system, so how do we continue to manage? The answer may lie in our superior data storage capacity.  Perhaps the combination of absorbing vast amounts of data and our proclivity for repetitive tasks may lead to faster processing?  Either way, it's not an ideal solution and 'meltdowns' continue to occur.  So be patient, don't tap the keys angrily or bang the mouse on the desk - sometimes you just need to give the old PC a moment to collect itself and everything will be OK.  And yes, I'm still talking about Aspies.

On the subject of making sense... (first posted 2nd December 2015)

Hello. Let me introduce myself, or rather, my alter-ego, Talentless Liar.  "What?" I hear you say, (assuming anyone is out there) "That’s a bit negative isn’t it?"  Well,  no.  Or yes and no, to be more accurate.  Does it mean I’m talentless and a liar?  Does it mean I’m merely bad at lying?  Does it mean I’m lying about being talented?
Well, I’ll leave that up to you to decide.  Just to help though, I’ll give you a few facts to help you arrive at an answer:

• I am enchanted by quantum physics and theoretical mathematics, but struggle with simple addition.
• I know nothing about Art, but I paint and draw pictures constantly.
• My pictures are lauded for their detail and dismissed as photographs.
• I crave friendship but destroy or fail to maintain my relationships.
• I work to relax, progress to stay the same and pretend to be someone else in order to fit in.
• I can lecture on technical matters to a crowded conference hall, but panic at the prospect of an informal gathering.
• I can remember accurately a wide range of facts on a vast array of subjects, but I forget my husband’s birthday (and my own!)
• I am famously unthinking and tactless, yet fiercely loyal and a champion of fairness.
• I am a contradiction, yet the world makes less sense than I do.
• I seek truth at all times and in all things but fear trusting others with the truth about myself.
• People think me sad and pessimistic but I am am staggered by the beauty of a reflection in a puddle.

If you know about Asperger’s, then this will make perfect sense.  Read on.   If you don’t, it won’t make any sense.  Read on.

I will endeavour to write a little every week, some experiences, a little humour, some history, some pearls of wisdom from exceptional people I have met, some pictures and some interesting observations gleaned from my job in a busy UK Secondary (High) School… I hope it will make an interesting read, and if you learn a little about Asperger's too... then that won't be a bad thing either...

Strange weather... A rare UK Roll Cloud and the equally strange optical effects - there is interesting stuff out there  if you care to look...