The Incident Pit

As I sit here, towards the end of a busy, full day of cover at my local secondary school, wondering how long the Epi Pen training will take and if my son will make a big fuss about his guitar practice tonight, I realise that things have found their way back to a kind of normality.

I have missed this.  Things have not been normal for some time.  Over a year, in fact.  I don't know how long this respite will last, and I have no intention of letting paranoia shorten any positive effects.  So, this is me drawing a line under the past year's difficulties, and looking ahead to a continuation of all the good stuff that had begun to happen.

However, I think it's worth pausing to reflect on how incredibly difficult these 'hiccups' and 'blips' in our lives are to navigate without a decent support network, real understanding or the ability to properly communicate your experience to those who need to hear it.  Of course, this is the norm for many people on the spectrum, who live every day of their lives without the comfort of a circle of close friends, or the confidence of being able to make themselves understood.  I count myself among the exceptionally lucky that I have a small but exceedingly genuine and responsive circle of friends, and an amazingly understanding husband and son, who have weathered my rants and complaints and soothed my pains and fears.  I don't know how I would have managed this last year without them.

They couldn't help me, however, when it came to explaining to medical personnel the effect of the illness with regard to Asperger's.  Whereas I am sure my Doctor sympathised that my inability to make concrete plans, stick to my schedules or escape into a book or that my ability to draw my super-detailed doodles had been utterly compromised by the threat of severe migraines, I am sure the full impact on my life was lost to her:  The function that reading or doodling fulfills in calming me down at the end of a stressful day of social interaction.  The role that drawing plays in my relationship with my son, the part it plays in our understanding of one another and our creative processes... Without my plans and schedules, I am rudderless and days can pass in a morose of sedentary catatonia.  The pleasure I took at exploring pattern has now turned to fear and anxiety due to the very real prospect of triggering a migraine... It is all extremely distressing and my anxiety quickly rises past it's usual elevated position to new heights, causing sleeplessness and a cascade of other associated difficulties.

It has always been difficult to explain to NTs, how the impact of  familiar issues such as these differs in autistic people.  It reminds me of something that we learn as scuba divers:  To dive within our limits.  We are told that things can deteriorate quickly into a serious situation if we do not follow this rule.  We are told to consider the Incident Pit:  A metaphorical place where a certain number of small incidents can be weathered without major consequence, but one too many, and nothing with halt your slide into panic and its inevitable, fatal result.  I realised that all these 'small inconveniences'  (not reading, not drawing, staying out of bright sunshine, not diving, not eating certain foods, not looking at patterns, not being reliable etc) had me skating perilously close to the edge of my own Incident  Pit.  I faced a future without any of my coping mechanisms, without any of my methods for sharing ideas or connecting with people, and I panicked.  It has been many years since the idea of suicide entered my head, and I'm fairly sure that the only only reason it did recently, was thanks to a rare side effect of the latest medication, but I resent bitterly that it arrived at all, and the terrible impact it had on my family.


So, in summary, although I do, tentatively feel as though I have turned a corner, and that some normality is returning to life, recent events have served to remind me how vulnerable we can be when we isolate ourselves, and how difficult it can be for others to see this.  It is ultimately up to us to recognise our limits, and when to ask someone to throw that lifeline.

The finer things...

Radiohead made my day today.  They have re-emerged after a long hiatus, with the release of "Burn the Witch."  Now.  Just so we are clear... I am no 'fan girl' (whatever that means!)  I love Radiohead's music, but then, I like an awful lot of music across many, many genres.  But listening to Radiohead's most recent release and watching the delightfully disturbing video, got me to thinking about musical tastes in general...

One of the traits acknowledged among Aspies is a reluctance or inability to differentiate in some matters.  This can sometimes be problematic:  Confusion about how different people should be spoken to in different circumstances, or whether a subject is appropriate for casual conversation, for instance.  But it also means that Aspies are less likely to be racist, sexist, or any of those other 'ists'.  It makes no sense to us to treat someone differently because of the skin colour, fashion sense or looks, and neither does it make sense to avoid genres of music because of their political, historical or cultural basis.  Music is music, and there is merit in all of it.  It is the crowning glory of our achievements as a species (I believe) and a skill over which no other species can claim mastery.

It would never occur to me to say "No, I won't listen to it because I don't like Rap" or "Classical music is boring!" (I nearly choked on that one!)  Music, like all things created by man, can be categorised meaningfully by quality alone.  The skills of composers, bands and musicians and the quality of their music, ranges from 'badly conceived and performed noise' to 'beautiful and transcendent artistry'.  I have listened to all sorts of genres and found good and bad in all (If you want to see how many there are now, have a look at this site: http://everynoise.com/engenremap.html )

Some genres are intrinsically linked with quality... (Sacred music, for instance - composed and held up to the ultimate standard, so quality is almost assured!)  There are also composers, artists and bands that were/are skillful enough and inspired enough, to continually produce interesting, musically challenging, amazing original music throughout their professional lives.  David Bowie comes to mind.  His drive to push the limits of his writing, his enthusiasm for collaboration with other musicians, his range of subject matter and his awareness of culture and society all combined to provide immensely enjoyable, imaginative music across the decades of his career...  Led Zeppelin changed the face of rock music and produced a series of iconic albums.... Aretha Franklin broke through numerous barriers to bring her amazing voice to the public and her passion is apparent in everything she produces, even now, at 74... Antonio Vivaldi left us a wealth of melodic and intricate compositions that are as fresh today as when they were written in the 1700s...

So why Radiohead?  Well, there are few bands that tick as many of my preference boxes as does Radiohead.  Each new album is different in subject, theme, style and musicality, but remains quintessentially Radiohead.  Their musicianship is superb and expert enough to carry their increasingly complex ideas...  The production is sensitive and the enjoyment; slow release:  I often have to listen 5-10 times, and maybe look a few things up, before really appreciating each track...  I love a puzzle, and Radiohead's tracks often harbour include tangential political or social comment .  For example the album, Hail to the Thief, appears to include much comment about the disputed election results in the US that allowed George W Bush a second term.  And this new song's sentiments seem to reflect the UK political posturing and paranoia around immigration and the European Union... the "Trumpton" style video  must ring a few bells...?  As an Aspie, I want my powers of appreciation stretched.  I want to be challenged, but also rewarded for my efforts, and Radiohead has always delivered.

Even if you think you don't like Radiohead (and, let's face it, not everyone does!) their latest 'offering' (watch the video, get the joke!) is well worth a look - especially for those of us who are knocking on 50 and feeling nostalgic...    watch the video

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.

Liar, Liar (First published Jan 18th 2016)

It is a subject I hear discussed only occasionally, and then usually by professional types, as part of abstracts about ongoing research into Autism and Asperger's…  but it is one that fascinates me. It is, in part, the reason for my user name: Talentless Liar.  I consider myself to be an honest person, but over my lifetime, it has not escaped my attention that people are very good liars.  I don’t mean to insinuate that they are dishonest in any criminal way (though clearly, some are!) but only in the subtle ways required by informal social interaction.

People appear to make instant judgements about each other, hundreds of times during an average length conversation:  They may recall the last time they spoke and decide, on the fly as it were, how the conversation should begin:  Was it a long time ago or earlier that day?  They make observations about each other – do they look well? Have they lost weight?  Had a haircut?  These are the clues that are noted and acted upon throughout an informal chat.  Reciprocity, interest and empathy are all integral to engine that drives the conversation.  It’s incredibly complex, but all happens INTUITIVELY in neuro-typicals (normal people – for want of a better term!)  

People with Asperger’s have to manage this on a purely intellectual level, making each observation ‘manually’, thinking though potential responses, whilst cross-checking possible pit-falls with each mico-decision and memories.  What is for most a pleasant distraction, is for me, a strategic campaign: The First and most important goal being to get through it without upsetting the other person. (Objective No 1.)  If I was on form, I might attempt Objective No 2:  Leave the other person feeling better about themselves. This might be achieved by using an observation to spark a positive comment, but this is a minefield when you consider that the response to your comment might be negative and self-effacing.   (I recognise that this is sometimes used to illicit further positive comments to confirm their truth, but lose track and disaster may ensue!)  

On the rare occasion that the exchange continues in fairly reciprocal spirit, (and I really have to be ‘on fire’ for this)  I may go for the elusive Objective 3:  Leave the other person feeling better about me. Because none of this is intuitive in my case, I inevitably have to lie to some degree.  Most people probably wouldn’t see this as lying. After all, this all happens on an intuitive level for most. It is only only when the process is broken down intellectually that the lies become obvious.

I am uninterested in hair (unless I am considering whether my own needs washing.)  I don’t care about fashion, Social media, games, Celebrity, Soaps, most fiction books, football or Reality TV- most TV, in fact.  I actively avoid talking about relationships, (not my area of expertise!) social tech, dating, breakups or sensationalised news stories.  You may rest assured that if I am in conversation with you where any of these subjects are concerned, I will be actively lying, not to mislead, but purely in order to achieve the aforementioned Objectives.  I will be using my prestigious catalogue of real-life ‘emoticons’ to confirm, agree, sympathise and enthuse.  It has become an entrenched response to unplanned conversation.  

It’s unrealistic to expect most people to understand that I need sufficient notice about a conversation before my contribution can be truly honest and tactful.  The normal measure for honesty for neurotypicals is the ability for someone to respond tactfully and spontaneously; something I find extremely difficult. The only exceptions are those conversations which are a) about one of my ‘special interests’, (Most of these are so ‘special’ as to negate general conversation.) b) with someone who either has a deep understanding of Asperger’s or is just incredibly understanding and patient, or c) I’m fed up, tired or angry and can’t be bothered to lie.  These conversations are usually quite short, unless the other person has misunderstood and thinks I am being humourous.  Smiling is not something one does naturally when one is engaged in a difficult task that requires great concentration and effort, so remembering to use appropriate facial expressions whilst doing this is almost impossible…

To achieve Objective 3 in a conversation, is to be on Cloud 9 for the rest of the week (or until over-confidence supplies the inevitable social disaster!)  I can live on the crumbs of a ’3 for 3′ informal exchange for ages…  But why?  If my neurological toolbox is devoid of empathy, reciprocity and interest in people, why am I stupidly pleased with myself when I get these exchanges right?  I have pondered this for some time…
When I first learned about Asperger’s, it’s characteristics and neurological differences, I was both appalled and relieved by this staggering insight.   This was why being around people is so exhausting!  This was why I felt like an alien among others!  This was why people were offended by honesty instead of applauding it.  Lying is a complex and confusing part of communication but there is nothing more human or indeed, humane…