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!

Dial it down?

If I tend, in my musings, to linger on the things that are difficult, challenging or otherwise worthy of dissection and explanation, it is because I am eminently practical:  I want to fix things that are not working, improve experiences that are not beneficial... The ratio of difficulties to pleasures, however, can be a little one-sided so you'll forgive me if I guard the "good stuff" jealously.  Let me explain...

It has become a habit, over the years, to note every nuance, detail and minutiae of most everything I encounter, the main purpose being to try to avoid getting into trouble with people in one form or another. (I tend to edit out the mundane or uninteresting experiences, and this is sometimes a grievous error as my judgement of What's Important often differs from other peoples'... ) An interesting thing happens when you turn this skill to things that are less practical; just interesting, beautiful or elegant. 

To put it mildly, I can be filled with the most disproportionate joy when glancing at a reflection in a puddle (the overlapping images, the play of light, the colour combinations, subtleties of tone and shade and it's fleeting nature...)  A piece of music might bring me to tears at it's first hearing - the harmonies, mood and texture eliciting such a strong emotional response that I have to listen in stages.  Even a well crafted TV advert can draw me in - even if the product is of no interest and subsequently forgotten.  I seem to be especially sensitive to these experiences anyway, and I suspect the intensity of them is due in some part to the way my observational and analytical skills have been honed over the years.  I realise that many neurotypical people have a deep appreciation for music, or art for instance, but few will become obsessed with dissecting a particular shade of green or the sound of a person's name or a musical chord to the nth degree....

When I look up at the clouds, I am thinking not just of the form and colour, but the air pressure difference responsible for the air currents that are tearing, thinning, building or layering other clouds on it, the angle of the sun and the thickness of atmosphere through which it's beams must travel before they cast their altered light over the vapour.  I am thinking about the temperature at altitude and how the inevitable ice crystals are causing the halo that passes through it, the vast weight of water droplets causing the darkening lower edge, and so on....  The result is quite magical and sometimes even transcendent. 

A strong emotional response whilst listening to a particular piece of music is a more common shared experience but I count myself amongst the few who experience the full effect of every nuanced phrase, every scintillating rhythm, every  crescendo and cadence; regardless of the genre...  It puts me in  mind of Douglas Adams' Hitchhikers book when he describes the apparatus for 'appreciating' Vogon Poetry, (known to be the 3rd worst in the Galaxy) making sure that every detail of the experience is felt as fully as possible...

I suspect this is also why I can't bear One Direction.

A dull day in Clevedon - just as beautiful and fascinating as a glorious sunny day.