Karma Police - Addendum

I gave Karma a prod in my last post and bemoaned the consequences, but it turns out my little stash of validity has been looking after itself very well thank you, while my confidence has taken a dive.

Not long after sending my email withdrawing from the application process, I received an email from the prospective employer seeking a meeting to make sure there were no misunderstandings about the nature of the role that might have wrongly influenced my decision.  I considered replying to say I couldn't attend, but remembered another occasion when I had been asked back for a meeting and the outcome had been surprisingly positive.  I had enjoyed much of the experience yesterday, despite the pressure associated with the tasks and interviews - the staff were all lovely and I saw many familiar faces, so I thought I owed an explanation at least.  So I agreed to a meeting.

I don't know quite what I was expecting to hear, but the genuine warmth and understanding with which I was greeted was entirely unexpected, as was the fact that this person had clearly read my application in detail and had understood how my Asperger's actually enhances my ability in many ways.  They also seemed to appreciate my enthusiasm for learning and capacity for retaining factual knowledge, and even recognised it's value, and respected my honesty and openness in talking about my limitations and difficulties.  It also turns out that the hours for this role will allow me to keep up my commitments to a student group I run at my present school, which had been of some concern to me.

I have the weekend to mull things over, but I feel I have been handed a polite and eloquently worded invitation, and I am inclined to accept.

At Glastonbury this year, Karma Police was the last song played in Radiohead's set.  Even after they had left the stage the huge crowd continued to sing chorus after chorus...
"Phew, for a minute there,
I lost myself,
For a minute there,
I lost myself..."

Karma Police

What an odd title I have chosen for this post.  And yet I can think of nothing better to encompass the feelings I have at recent events.  Perhaps this is the first sign of my sense of validity starting to fracture...  (I wouldn't be surprised, what with illness and issues at work catching up with me.)
My confidence is crashing.

I have just sent an email eloquently backing out of the post-interview process for a job that represented the best chance at alternative employment I have seen in seven years.  And I don't really know why.  I think I may be scared of change, scared of failing, scared of succeeding, scared of taking on too much... but one thing is for sure:  I was told I would be phoned at 4pm yesterday after the interview, and did not receive a call.  It is not unusual for these calls to be delayed, and they would have called if I had been successful or unsuccessful; that is not in question.  But the delay gave me enough time for my terrified mind to talk myself out of accepting it.

At the moment, I feel sad, but relieved.  Tomorrow, I suspect I will be livid with myself.  By the time next term starts, and I am back in the toxic environment I am so desperate to leave, I'm sure I will be seriously questioning my sanity.

Interviews are such dreadful things for Aspies to navigate, and this one was no different in that respect...  A total of 4 hours in which to complete administrative tasks to do with behaviour and attendance tracking, a critique of a 20 slide Powerpoint for a Media lesson, a tour of the premises, a student panel, teaching a lesson (psychology), observing and commenting on a taught lesson (Geography), and of course, the formal interview... So many different tasks in such a short time in unfamiliar surroundings...  But I cannot bring myself to ask for additional time or consideration in these things - the nature of the role means it is pressurised and, naturally, they wanted interviewees to demonstrate they could cope with this kind of pressure.  And it is this kind of rationalisation that makes it so easy for me to stay exactly where I am.

It's odd how a simple delay in notification is enough to open to door to doubts; doubts to certainty, certainty to sabotage.  Of course, there is no guarantee that I would have been offered the post.  No guarantee that it would have been within my capabilities.  (There I go again.)  They asked me an odd question in the interview and, in a single moment, I saw that chasm of difference between me and most other people.  The question was:  "What would you do if you were presented with a challenging situation?"  Clearly, in hindsight, they were imagining the question framed in the sense of a challenging situation in the classroom, and were expecting to hear about some creative strategies for dealing with it.  I, however was flummoxed by it. Where would I start?  Practically everything was a challenging situation to me...  I did a pretty decent impression of a goldfish for a second or two before explaining my confusion, and they asked a more specific version that I was able to answer.

I talked a few posts ago about how my despair had evaporated at my new found validity, but it seems that it's not gone entirely.  It reminds me of a close Aspie friend I heard recently relaying his thoughts about his chances of ever being in a relationship with a partner and his resignation at being alone.  It made me sad, and I felt compelled to make supportive comments, but they would have felt like platitudes, because I myself feel a similar resignation:  A resignation that I will never have a job that shows off my skills or fulfils my potential (or comes anywhere remotely close to it).  People who know me, my work ethic, skills and ability would balk at such a statement, but the odds are stacked against people like us, externally and internally.  Perhaps I'm just too tired after all these years to keep trying.

But there is hope. Maybe it's my little stash of validity fighting back, but there's a little voice in the back of my head telling me that I'm too good for this job, or the new one:  That I am meant for something else, and if no employer can give me a platform for what I can offer, then perhaps I should build one myself.  Maybe it's Karma that I have such a distressing job.  Maybe it's Karma that I am so terrible at interviews.  Maybe Karma is trying to tell me something.  Maybe it's time I listened.

Still from Radiohead's 'Karma Police'

"I've given all I can,
It's not enough,
I've given all I can,
but we're still on the payroll..."

Friends with benefits

I recently attended a workshop hosted by BASS (Bristol Autistic Spectrum Service) on Friendship. Hearing others' definitions of friends, and hearing about their expectations and experiences was sobering. Friendship is something I have coveted for as long as I can remember, but it has always eluded me.  I have watched; enchanted and bemused in equal parts, as people perform their social dances around one another, but I always have the feeling that this is not for me.

I have difficulties with the most simple elements of the dance...  Compliments, reciprocation, interest and recall of important events, facts and anniversaries all present potentially friendship-ending problems for me.  I do want to have friendships, and I have attempted them, but even when the exchanges seem effortless, the sense of foreboding is palpable...  "Don't get too comfortable", warns The Voice: "It'll all go wrong eventually."

And so it does.  I am undecided on whether this is self-fulfilling prophecy, mechanical error or sheer inevitability, nor am I entirely sure the differentiation matters.  I have waited patiently for the friendship which becomes seamlessly 'intuitive', but it has never materialised.  Failure after failure (usually my own fault) has taught me a lesson that is hard to ignore:  I do myself, and others, less damage if I don't have friends.

I suspect that some might balk at this - after all, it's an effort for everyone isn't it?  You'd be right to question it, but there is a caveat.  If it was purely just hard work, I would achieve it.  I work very hard.  At everything.  There is nothing that I don't try my best at - it's just my nature.  But friendships are not just about me...

The aspect that concerns me most is the possibility of really hurting someone else; achieving the opposite of what you intended.  People's social circles are complex and pitfalls lie in wait around every corner.  Nothing scares me quite as much as the prospect of making and then losing friends. None of the maintenance required for friendship occurs to me intuitively, so the risks of alienating or hurting someone are heightened.  My sensitivities are also heightened, and the idea of losing a friend because of something I have said or done is devastating to me.  People who I could call friends have been so few and far between, the prospect of failure generates a fear so great that the isolating alternative seems safer. I know I have inadvertently hurt people I considered friends before, and undoubtedly will again.  No different to anyone, you think?

The difference is, that there will be no explanation forthcoming to bring the friendship back from the brink - I will not have realised what I did, and people who have been hurt will rarely feel like spelling it out..
The difference is, I will feel shame so keenly that I will probably never have the courage to speak to that person again.
The difference is, I cannot afford to lose friends - it is far too great an investment for me.

So what does friendship with me entail?  Only the most tenacious sorts will get past the first hurdle, better known as 'getting me to realise that you are interested in being my friend'.  (After scaring everyone away for a number of years, I can be very slow to interpret these messages.)
The next step can take forever, so make yourself comfortable.   I am unlikely to accept any invitations to go out for coffee, or meet up in any sense.  I need to gather data.  (Don't worry - this doesn't mean hacking your Facebook account or stalking of any kind!) This might entail a period of email exchanges on a range of subjects.  I cannot make those intuitive judgements, that come so naturally to NTs, in a few short face to face meetings, nor a few texts or a Facebook comments.

Think of this less as a test and more as a reality check: Anyone who loses patience with this process is never going to make it in the long run.  It's a way for people to get out before they invest too much. In all honesty, anyone wishing to be a good friend of mine (not just a casual acquaintance) has to be prepared for a long and frustrating road:  I will forget Birthdays, anniversaries, dinner dates... you name it.  It will not occur to me ask you how you are, how your family is, how your job interview went.  I will say tactless things about your outfit, your behaviour, your family. But...

I will apologise genuinely and unreservedly if you tell me where I went wrong, and I will sincerely try to learn from it. I will never stop trying to be a better friend.  I will be a loyal supporter and fierce defender.  I will always seek to lighten your spirit and make you laugh. I will always be honest.  I will never be boring.

Of course, I will also try to teach you all about Quantum Physics... which is a good thing, dammit!

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!)

Happy New Year... (First published 5th January 2016)

Making friends and maintaining friendships has always been nigh on impossible for me.  I can only assume that there is some point where the interaction becomes intuitive, and no longer requires excessive effort on the part of the friends.  In my experience, this juncture in a relationship usually sparks an end to proceedings:  Either I have lost interest in the person, or they in me.  The other possibility is that the person becomes too close, and I begin to panic about the consequences of an ill-considered remark or forgotten appointment. I have read many books on the subject, including Eric Berne’s "The Games People Play" which has proven useful but the mechanics, when tackled on a purely intellectual level, are exhausting.  I do not prefer my own company – it’s just often easier to be on my own.

Christmas and New Year is especially exhausting in this sense.  Regardless of what they may say, people have high expectations around this time.  People must be kind, thoughtful, organised  and strive for perfection, (based on what criteria, I cannot fathom, but God forbid it's the TV adverts…) presumably under pain perhaps of being 'struck off the Christmas List'.

I enjoy the pomp and ceremony around Christmas time – I love singing carols, making and wrapping presents and decorating the house, so I keep the stresses associated with Christmas reasonably at bay.  The real test comes with the return to work in January: Remember to say ‘Happy New Year’, ‘How was your Christmas?’ and ‘Did you manage to get away?’ (my personal favourite as it always conjures up an image of Santa robbing houses and getting chased by the  police as he makes his escape on his sleigh!)

Keeping up with appropriate comments and responses when I have no particular interest in what other people have been doing is really challenging.  They might be surprised to learn that I have no interest in telling them what I was doing either.  I hold no ill-will towards anyone if they  forget to send me a card, and I would like to think the same is true for them…

I assume that, like much of what passes between people in everyday conversation, these exchanges serve to maintain and strengthen friendships and social ties.  I see no logic in treating people differently according to the time of year, but I confess to putting a great deal of effort into playing along!  I can’t help thinking that things would be a lot simpler and less traumatic if we were to go back to just sitting around picking fleas off each other…