The company of men

Gender is a subject that has never really interested me but it occurred to me recently that this a hot topic for many and so, as this type of realisation often triggers reflection,  I decided it was time to give it some consideration.

I suppose it is my tendency towards the factual and logical that, in part at least, has steered me away from the subject of gender.  After all, - men and women are equally capable of more or less the same feats (with the exception of the obvious biological barriers) aren't they?  The only other considerations seemed to me to be cultural, aesthetic or social ones (historical/legal/political/religious).  I have always considered that my gender was irrelevant, in all but the most fundamental sense.  

Of course, I am aware of the existence of gender bias, cultural and historical prerequisites, and of the tendency of recent years for people to self-label themselves on the 'gender spectrum'...  However, because I have never found gender to be an important factor in practically any decision I have ever made, that doesn't mean that there aren't important issues to consider.  (I am sure that others have made plenty of decisions about me based on exactly this.)  I should explain that I hold social concepts such as race and religion in similar disdain.  I can only consider them in terms of variation and the complexity of experience they bring with them.  I cannot imagine using such broad and subjective terms to make a judgement about a person.  It simply would not occur to me to favour these considerations over the specific merits of someone's suitability (for a job, a spouse, a conversation, a friend...)  What possible difference would it make if an engineer wears makeup or or has a beard?  

I must admit my view appears somewhat simplistic when I read it back.  Am I at fault, or is my simplistic view what we should all be aiming for?  

To clarify what 'gender' means to me personally, as a woman with Asperger's: An assignation which only has meaning in terms of anticipating situations when bias might occur with regard to social, historical or cultural norms, and in practical considerations. For example, the issue of a man working in a women's shelter or wearing appropriate clothing for dangerous jobs.

I have come to see that many people hold their gender identity very dear, some to the extent that it seems to define their very persona.  They celebrate their place on the spectrum of gender.  I struggle to see where I would fit on such a spectrum.  I suppose most see me as quite 'male' - I always wear trousers, but because they are practical and warm, and stop my skin burning in the summer.  (I am particularly aware of how much cheaper men's clothing is, and how much better quality the materials usually are!) However, I do wear minimal makeup and brush my hair (long - because I cannot bear the idea of visiting the hairdressers) when I go out, mainly because I don't want to attract unpleasant comment about 'not making an effort'.  (I don't really associate this with any particular gender - I just accept that I have female attributes, so I do things to fit in to that social expectation, particularly because it is a preference that my (NT) husband shares.)  Of course practical considerations outrank any of these other expectations! (I am amazed by people who will maintain their gender identity beyond all consideration of the practical - high heels on cobbled streets, a 3-piece trouser suit on stiflingly hot day, coiffured hair and eye makeup in a swimming pool etc... what dedication!)

Of course, it's not all about what you wear.   A huge amount of research has been done in this area, and it continues to be a popular discussion subject in many ways:  Does your environment determine gender?  Or is it your biology, your genes...or your brain?

I have been aware for some time of the apparent correlation between being a fairly strong systemiser (47 on Baron-Cohen's AQ scale) and my tendency towards the 'left brain' and the male stereotype:  I wear trousers, hate chatting and shopping and talking about handbags and 'celebrities'.  I was never interested in things other girls were interested in at school.  I didn't like soft toys, ponies or kittens.  Later, I even preferred beer and spirits (straight) to sweet wines and cocktails.  Even now, I like talking about aviation, space, physics and sword-fighting, and have absolutely no interest in 'Nailbars', Love Island or small fluffy dogs which appear to have no practical purpose.   I have always preferred the company of men to women.  Even when I was in school I chose only male company.  I preferred the simpler interactions - we talked about things (bugs, films, cars) not people, or relationships.  Conversations were all about the subject, practicalities, statements and physical or visual jokes.  It was much easier to follow. At college I would dread the inevitable 'girls' nights out, and avoid them wherever possible. Relationships, fashion, pets, gossip were all alien to me. I am aware of how stereotypical this sounds, but this was my experience.  Perhaps we were all responding to  the same stereotypes....

Much has been made in recent years, of the apparent oversight of diagnosing girls and women with Asperger's due to their skill at social mimicking among other things.  To clarify:  Girls don't fit in better, but they are better at 'appearing to fit in'.  Boys are more likely to 'act out' and are therefore more visible for diagnosis.  Or so the theory goes.  I don't think this is true in my case.  I acted out.  I truanted, got into fights and consequently spent the vast majority of the time on my own.  I loved dinosaurs and ancient Greek mythology and drawing scary monsters. I was visible, but my behaviour was dismissed as boredom or eccentricity, due to my academic ability.  

But does favouring the left-brain (the slower, more logical thinking brain) mean that you are more 'male'?  And does that mean you are 'less female'? (I can't help thinking of Temple Grandin here, with her wonderful deadpan delivery and shapeless country cowboy shirts.)  After all, I am a loving mother and teacher, and creative to boot.  (All seen as more right brain.)  I thought my view might change when I met other Aspie women, but I have met none like me - they seemed more able, socially, and conversation inevitably got around to hobbies and interests like crafts, and pets.  Is this because of a tendency for women to be more 'right brain'? Maybe.  It seems quite neat but, of all people, I know appearances can be deceptive... The roles that my husband and I have assumed within our relationship are not the usual 'stereotypical' gender roles:  He does the cooking,  I do the DIY.  He does the vehicle maintenance, I do the gardening.  He is the keeper of the social diary, I do the school correspondence and homework help.  We share all other responsibilities depending on the circumstances at the time.  Any type of brain can see the sense in this arrangement, surely?  It certainly works.

I think, ultimately, that gender should not and need not matter.  I see it as a useful creative tool.  It can open doors, stimulate debate and provide an identity, but it is yours to do with as you wish, so make it work for you...

The Sheephead Wrasse (Semicossyphus reticulatus) Looks aren't everything, when needs must...


Simon Baron-Cohen's article on the extreme male brain and autism.
http://cogsci.bme.hu/~ivady/bscs/read/bc.pdf

Navigating the Event Horizon

Our lives are full of cycles:   We learn, we teach, we become wiser.  We gain confidence, we take risks, we learn moderation. Some cycles are repeated again and again as we age. We trust, we are disappointed or betrayed, we make better choices about who we confide in, or we don't.  These cycles of trial and error are the mechanism by which we learn to navigate our world, but when you remove the 'why' from these experiences, our ability to learn from them is compromised. If you don't recognise that your trust has been abused, rejected or betrayed, or do not understand the reason why, how do you make a better decision next time?  How do you protect yourself?

One particular cycle (trying and failing to get the outcome I desired, and blundering into exactly the same issue next time I tried) was interrupted when I got my diagnosis 7 years ago:  I learned about Asperger's and that lent me the understanding I needed to begin to extricate myself from the cycle.  I nearly fell back in when, after copious research, I realised that there were no apparent solutions to how Asperger's affected my life.  I had simply added one more step in my cycle:  Try and fail, but fully appreciate the impact on myself, and others before blundering into it once again.  I still didn't know why, and even if I did, I did not have the language, skills or support to try to improve things.

But I wasn't ready to admit defeat.  I decided to embrace the positives.  I decided to use my experiences to illuminate the little-understood world of Asperger's. - to provoke discussion and highlight issues.  I had some success, which allowed me to take the next step...  And when the invitation came, I accepted and I learned about a possible solution - a way to claim back a portion of my life that I had never realised was lost.  I began to co-present The Different Engine's Aspie TA workshops. I made new friends and eventually, the illumination spread to those around me, letting everyone see me more clearly, and I, them. I am no expert in Transactional Analysis - I have a basic vocabulary, but is is enough to enable dialogue, and consequently, understanding.

But life with Asperger's is rarely so straightforward....

One of the most painful aspects of living with Asperger's, is the way that huge, hulking misunderstandings can still come barreling out of left-field to knock you senseless and make you question your entire world view from the tiniest details to the broadest foundation.

Everyone suffers unexpected setbacks at sometime in their lives, no matter how they try to insulate themselves from disaster.  I myself have spent a lifetime, unsuccessfully trying to find ways to avoid getting hurt.  Enhanced understanding cannot cover every eventuality, and certainly cannot stop the dreadful emotional impact of misunderstandings when they happen.  So you explain yourself, people understand, you feel more relaxed and accepted, you take a chance and trust more.  In neurotypical people, there are numerous buffers (tests, if you like) that ensure that the risk is manageable; trust growing incrementally, allowing only the most worthy and compatible into the inner circle of genuine and mutual intimacy, where lasting harm could be done. This is not the case with Asperger's.

Asperger's not only means you are without the vast majority of these 'buffers', (meaning you are likely to risk far too much in one go), but also that you are likely to be unaware that this is happening until it is too late (leaving you totally unprepared for the disaster when it descends and utterly defenceless in its wake).

When I have encountered such disasters in the past, I have always responded to the appalling emotional and psychological pain they inflict by removing myself from everything and everyone involved immediately and permanently.  An over-reaction?  It may seem that way to a neurotypical, but I have a pitifully limited defense.  It is rare for me to trust, and rarer still that I relax in another's company.  So when it turns out that, in my enthusiasm to celebrate some of those rare relationships, I have unwittingly caused harm to them, my world falls apart.

 I suppose it is a nod to progress that I have not acted immediately on this occasion, despite the impact of this particular disaster being as painful as any I have encountered.  I need to know if this can be resolved, if my world view can survive, and whether I can live with that resolution, should it materialise. Running away and hiding from the pain is as attractive as it's ever been, but I will see this through. I need to know if it is possible to build mend bridges instead of burning them.  Sometimes, it seems, the only thing you can do when trust has let you down, is to trust that things will get better, and I'll emerge from this black hole.

If Hawking radiation can do it... maybe I can too.

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”. 

Cut on the Bias?

I suppose seven days is enough time to tell if one has made a terrible decision in leaving one job and starting another, wouldn't you agree?  Time enough to feel the familiar lick of flame as you realise you have inadvertently left the frying pan for the fire, or to realise that the grass, did in fact only look greener on this side.

There were some familiar 'failings', that could have started alarm bells ringing: The induction schedule being rewritten in favour of actual work, meetings being cancelled, people being unavailable. The odd thing is that, given the general atmosphere of the place and the level of activity of the people involved, at no time did it occur to me that any of the changes were actually harmful to me.  I was always able to catch up with the people in question later, and they were always happy to discuss issues and answer questions.  So I was happy, therefore, to forego the induction in its full sense and get stuck straight into 'being useful'.  I got the distinct impression that this came as an enormous relief to the rest of the team.  I know this because they actually told me.

I am a systemiser, and it was clear almost immediately that the systems and procedures here are inefficient at best, and might be entirely unworkable were it not for the tremendous effort being put in by the staff to keep everything running. I would like to be a part of seeing this fixed, and think they might let me. I know this because they actually agreed - the systems don't work well. Their honesty was refreshing, to say the least.

This was never the case in my previous job:  Systems and procedures were everywhere and constantly updated without consultation and force fed with no concern about their wider effect, beyond their ability to inflate the progress statistics that drive results and ultimately, funding.  In order to be both efficient and successful then, it pays to be cognitively biased:  Try to consider too many things; too many people. Slow things down, and people at the top start to sweat.  People at the bottom start looking for another job.

I watched a re-run of an horizon programme recently about the work of Daniel Kahneman, psychologist and Nobel prize winning economist.  The basis of his work on cognitive bias forms an important part of the model of NT and Aspie cognitive processing in Rich Hall and Peter Flowerdew's work.  It was interesting to see people falling into the trap of making biased decisions by 'cutting out' data in everyday situations in favour of faster processing, even to the point of witnesses 'ignoring' a plainly visible assault in one experiment.  This is Kahneman's 'System 1' (Fast thinking): That wonderful, flexible neural network that filters out all the 'unimportant' stuff and allows instant, intuitive connections to be made in their place, all at lightning speed, and mostly without your conscious knowledge:  The network that is so underdeveloped and underused in Aspies...  Kahneman's genius was to highlight the triggers, influences and repercussions of this type of decision making.

Sadly, the programme concentrated on System 1 and never really went into any detail about 'System 2', (the system I find myself limited to for much of the time).  This slow, logical, analytical, and much more reliable way of thinking is usually reserved for difficult and involved maths problems and the like in neurotypical people.  Aspies tend to rely much more on this type of thinking, and it is often developed to a remarkable degree.  If everyone had to use this system for all their thinking, they would certainly need things to slow down, as Aspies do, but would certainly make fewer mistakes.

As I watched the programme, my voice was raised at the end of every experiment:  "An Aspie would have made an objective decision!"  "An Aspie wouldn't have made that baseless judgement!"  "An Aspie wouldn't have been swayed by popular opinion or simply because they liked it'!" "An Aspie would have looked at all the facts!" There is no denying that System 1 and it's cognitive shortcuts gets things done quickly, but there is inherent risk in making unconscious, biased decisions all of the time.  Ask anyone who is part of a minority.

So, the question is:  What is better?  To rush decision-making, trust the guesswork of others, go with the flow and finish on time, but with a good chance of having got something important wrong? Or to take things more slowly, consider carefully, look at all the angles (including the premise of the task) and finish late, but having got as accurate an answer as possible?  Of course, they both have their ideal application, but I for one don't see the problem with slowing down, being more careful and considerate.  This breakneck pace at which we live our lives and conduct our business is so wasteful and, without doubt, unsustainable.

I had hoped that Economists had learned something from the financial woes of the last 15 years.  Kahneman told them that people take risks - and the greater the potential loss, the greater the risk they are prepared to take.  Perhaps it's time to consider putting System 2 to use a little more.  (I know some Aspies who could help with that.)

A beautiful map of necessary ignorance?  What would the Aspie version look like?

Abused Amoebas and Career Correlations

I was reading an excerpt from a zoological textbook the other day about the reactions of different types of amoeba to stimulus.  (Yes - this is the sort of thing you will find in my web surfing history.  Shut up.)  It seems that amoeba, generally, rarely move because of a positive stimulus.  (Towards things.) It follows that most of the experiments described involved annoying the amoeba with various negative stimuli and provoking movement. (Away from things.) After I stopped feeling sorry for the amoeba, it struck me that I had something in common with them.

It's been a long time since I had to start a new job.  I began my current employ at the end of 2009, and so, this is as long as I have held any job.  My length of employ in my various jobs has depended on all sorts of things in the past: from the effects of global financial crises, to dodgy contractual practices by employers that left me significantly out of pocket and on the end of a long list of creditors.  Only twice in the 11 jobs I have held, (As a graphic designer, Photographer, Technical illustrator, Administrator, Office Manager, IT Technician, Technical Author, Marketing Manager and Cover Supervisor,) have I chosen to leave.  And then, only because the stress of the situation has begun to effect my health.

It is in the nature of people with Asperger's to work hard.  After all, most things about everyday life are hard for us.  By most things, I mean all the stuff that is relatively easy for NTs.  (Chatting, socialising, networking, building relationships, finding advocates, friends and allies, navigating office or organisational politics.) The things that most NTs find hard:  being focused on work; wading through piles of boring, difficult or unsavoury tasks; learning new and difficult procedures and skills, staying motivated; is relatively easy for us.

Where people like me come unstuck, is that point where we need some support, help or recognition for our work and we look up from our narrow focus and find there's nobody there.  Because we haven't spent our time socialising, building those relationships, finding our allies and advocates, we have to rely on the formal organisational structure, as is. As anyone can attest, this alone is rarely adequate and sometimes even, shockingly, not always in the employee's favour.  It reminds me a little of what it was like during my maternity leave after having my son, Charley.  Finding myself alone with a new baby...  just the two of us, music, the park and a bunch of books:  (The idea of going to 'mums groups' or 'baby massage classes' filled me with absolute terror.)

But this seems to be a fate shared by of many of the people I have since met who have managed to secure regular employment, and who are on the spectrum.  Their remarkable skills and work ethic go unnoticed, simply because they don't know how to get them to register with their colleagues and employers...  The widely proclaimed CPD programmes seem in principle to be diametrically opposed to the 'one-size fits all' mentality of their actual content... and the forms!  They are anathema to the logical mind of an Aspie. The whole thing actually works against us, making us appear 'difficult' and 'unhelpful', when nothing could be further from the truth.  In fact, I think this is probably the most hurtful thing I could be accused of, simply because I try so hard to achieve the opposite outcome.

After discussions with several of the people I will be working with in my new job, I have much more confidence that they understand this.  They are aware of my Asperger's, the skills and strengths that it affords me, and the accommodations that they will need to make for me (some flexibility when it comes to CPD and conferences (large, noisy gatherings in strange places).  For many of us, our work is really our only 'social' contact, and what we do there is how we reach out to people.  It is up to our colleagues and employers to notice that, and accept the offer.  They would certainly not be disappointed if they did.

I digress, and do so because I have to go and write the obligatory 'goodbye email' to fulfil my social duties.  It seems awkward and pointless...  I have no wish to rant about my reasons for leaving, or single anyone out for particular thanks - this I have already done, in person. I see no purpose in throwing out more of the bland and meaningless platitudes that litter the daily lives of teachers.  I expect no card, no presentation, no celebration of my contribution of the last 7 years, which does sadden me, but it's a dusty, old and familiar sadness.  No, I'll leave quietly as usual.  After all, haven't I heard somewhere that it's better to speak softly and wear a loud shirt?

Amoeba Proteus, formerly known as Chaos Diffluens (I wonder why the change...?  Perhaps it's in Witness Protection....)

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..."

The feeling is Mutual

I have lived for many years with the unshakable and certain knowledge that I was alone.  That no-one would ever truly understand my world, my experience, my truth.  For two weeks now, I have been rather off balance - my certainty has disappeared and normality has yet to return, because return it must:  If it doesn't, I will have to think of something to replace it with, and this is new territory.

I have grown closer to people in the last year or so, special friends who share my experience, whose insights I value, whose company I genuinely enjoy, but the loneliness persisted.  Something fundamental has changed since the TA/Aspie workshop that we attended a fortnight ago, when, shockingly, my NT husband went from borderline cynicism to  wholehearted devotee of TA. He acquired an almost miraculous appreciation, not only of the difficulties I face as an Aspie, but also the breadth of the empath/systemiser spectrum and his place in it, and the power of TA to bridge the enormous chasms that litter our attempts to connect with people.  It was somewhat unexpected, and I wanted to give things time to return to normal, for his enthusiasm to wane, for the bubble to burst. The odd thing is that none of these things has happened.  And, even more unexpectedly, I find I'm OK with that.

I have come to the conclusion that this is due to suddenly having a key person in my life who genuinely understands, wholly, why my life is the way it is. He 'gets it.'

This is The Most Important Person In My Life, and until now, I was certain he only excused my mistakes, tolerated my idiosyncrasies, weathered my anxieties. I have played my part without the innocent wisdom of genuine sincerity. I merely support, agree and frown my concerns with no real expectation of understanding. This is no longer the case. He 'get's it.'

We have talked and talked and talked.  We have sat in silence, grinning at each other between intervals of hand-holding. He tells me he's less stressed now, and that he no longer feels the need to start conversations with 'don't take this the wrong way' or to answer 'it's nothing' when I ask why he's upset:  He gets it.  I go to work and experience the same old problems, the same lack of understanding, the same pressures and anxieties but somehow, they no longer seem to accumulate into the overwhelming assault that left me exhausted at the end of every day.  I brush them off:  The Most Important Person in my life 'gets it'.

My friend, Peter assures me that this is, in fact, the experience of Mutuality.  This is unconditional; a place where communication is effortless, where I am accepting and accepted, where I am welcomed. It is a gift: A sublime edition to our hard won and solid foundation, 25 years in the making.

(I suppose I should wish my husband a Happy Silver Wedding Anniversary while I'm thinking about it... chances are I'll probably forget by next August!)

Binary system - stars in mutual orbit

An illuminating experience (or, The Light at the End Of The Tunnel has had its Chance..)

I think I must have heard every possible incarnation of the phrase: "There is light at the end of the tunnel" over the last 40 years or so.  From concerned family members to well-meaning therapists, the all encompassing message that persistence reaps a happy ending is a stalwart of the optimist's arsenal...  I am sorry if I sound less than optimistic - The light at the end of my personal subway has been obvious by its absence for the entire span of operations, but I suddenly find myself part of a team that has been busily installing skylights along the length of the entire system...

My own network of dark and seemingly endless tunnels had been explored exhaustively and no prophetic light could be found, perhaps because there didn't appear to be an end to the tunnel.  I may have managed, through trial and error, to learn to walk the tunnels without blundering into the walls too often but fear of the dark, so to speak, is ever present and unyielding.  I may also have had company in the dark - a trusted companion  who held me up when I stumbled, but we were both, still in the dark.  In my despair, I reluctantly conceded that this was my reality many years ago, and that it would never change.

I have no precedent, therefore, for the fact that this reality has changed, and I feel oddly, but pleasantly, adrift.  I talked some time ago, about my wish to break down the barrier that still existed between my husband and I, despite our 30 years of amicable partnership.   He is NT and we have never shared an understanding about how the Asperger's mind differs from the NT. Until now.

My husband recently attended Rich Hall and Peter Flowerdew's course on Transactional Analysis for therapists and Aspie clients and their families. Again, I was helping out as co-presenter with my friend, Rich.  I had hoped, that after 3 intensive days of explanations and discussion, my husband would acquire some insight into what life is actually like for me, and Aspies generally. Indeed, he acquired this insight and more:  He also learned a new appreciation of his own personality and communication style, and how it colours all of his interactions. He understands, at last, the extent to which our worlds differ, and that, given the right circumstances, they can converge.  In short, the last barrier to our communication has been lifted, and we can now be wholly 'real' with each other, in a shared space, with no concerns about treading blindly on each other's toes.

My 11 year old son paid us the simplest of compliments, when he heard his Dad and I talking after the course:  He said "Dad, why are you talking like Mum?"  Such a small thing, but it was the first 'independent verification' that we were finally speaking the same language.

My vocabulary seems insufficient, and my thoughts too cluttered to clearly express the impact of this on our lives.  I hope that this stupefied state will leave me soon, and I can write more clearly about the implications of this profoundly positive change.

The Great Convergence:  Galaxies, NGC 2207 on the left, and IC 2163 on the right, approx. 80 million light-years from Earth (Hubble Space Telescope image) Not so much a collision, as a 'coming together'.

Pardon my English

I marvel at the English language. I am struck by the bizarre spelling and the grammatical and usage rules that are routinely broken.  I admire the exclusivity of 'good grammar', and I especially appreciate the rich variety of  descriptive vocabulary and multiple meanings of many of them; often at complete odds with one another...  I acknowledge that there are often ten different ways to say everything, and don't get me started on pronunciation...

In short, the English language is analogous of the complexity of the NT world which I navigate and the difficulties experienced by those of us who do not possess it as innate language.  There is no substitute for plain speaking, but I have learned to use this complicated tool to articulate my world in ways most likely to reach those unfamiliar with it.  But there is a danger here:

The tool with which I try to express the realities of my world, can be held against me in the most oppressive of ways.  It would appear that my joyful use of the English language can, to some, appear superior - as though I were trying to highlight the difference in our ability/knowledge/class... take your pick.  My choice of subject matter can highlight the same inequality, I am told.  Should I adhere to the apparent norm, where only the most intelligent or privileged use correct grammar and the full range of their vocabulary? The idea that only superior, privileged people speak correct English with a large vocabulary, or that only Physicists are interested in physics is untrue and an NT social construct.
It is natural to me to use the full extent of the tools at my disposal, regardless of who I am talking to. Should I 'dumb down' to 'fit in'?  'Now hang on!' you may say... 'Just a few alterations to take into account peoples' feelings will make all the difference...'  That sounds reasonable, doesn't it?  But how does an Aspie anticipate what feelings might be hurt?  (I will have made no prior judgments about a person's intelligence or vocabulary before I speak to them.  I will not notice their discomfort with the language unless they tell me explicitly.)  I do not 'talk down' to anyone... not even children, although I will offer simpler synonyms and definitions to them, along with my normal speech - they are much better than adults at telling me what they need.

The social world is a riot of complex, misleading and hidden cues that NTs tap into easily, often without conscious thought, so should expect an Aspie be expected to alter their speech to accommodate the 'hidden' feelings of the NT majority?  I wonder if this isn't just as problematic as expecting an Aspie to know when someone is being sarcastic because we rely on the NT person letting us know what they really meant... surely it would be easier if everyone was more clear?

I daydream sometimes about what it would be like in a world where everyone only said what they meant, in simple terms, without subtext or contradictory expressions and body language...  Where everyone would have an opinion that was fluid - based only on the available evidence at the time, without reliance on ingrained memory and social influences...  Would this world be dull? Unemotional? Soulless? I think not.  It would be honest, lively and liberating.  The old adage of Equity over Equality would have no meaning:  The barriers would not exist.  No-one would feel alienated, or need to be lifted, propped up or rescued.

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....

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...

Learning with the Experts

When I explain to people that I have Aspergers, the response can be somewhat polarised.  I am met either with a knowing smile and a slow nod, (as if this is mere confirmation of a long suspected fact) or with utter consternation and denial.  However, both camps can easily be united in disbelief when I mention the fact that I work in a school.  With teenagers.  Front of Class. As a cover teacher.  And in my spare time, help out at my son's primary school and with the local Cubs and Scouts.

It's too noisy, surely?  Too much social interaction?  How can you empathise?  Communicate?  Too stressful? What? No timetable?  Constant change?  Different students and different subjects every lesson?  Nobody on the Autistic spectrum would choose to do this!

I suppose it does seem strange, but let me explain:  I like working with kids.  I prefer to spend my time talking to kids than to adults.  Kids make much more sense.  They are honest (to a fault, like me).  They prefer honesty, but if they do lie, then it can't be hidden (like me).  They are full of wonder and curiosity (like me).  Their potential knows no bounds. They are brave, have amazing resilience, humour and kindness.  They do not judge.  They can always change their minds.  They don't dismiss anything as boring or valueless without trying it out.  They feel everything keenly and react honestly, feeding back instantly.  I could go on and on.

I love learning - It's essential to me, and I will never stop.  To be around people who are as honest as me, as open as me, as full of wonder as me, as fallible as me, as energetic as me, as silly as me (as anyone who knows me and my penchant for giant inflatables can testify!), and as much fun as a barrel of puppies, too - well. It makes adults seem a stuffy lot..

Ah, but those of you who know my previous incarnation of 'Graphics Specialist' working in Environmental Engineering, will wonder why I haven't always worked with kids...  Well, I worked with scientists then, and in my book, that's almost the same thing:  Wonder... curiosity... lack of social sophistication... sound familiar?

Yes of course, it's exhausting, yes it can be frustrating, heartbreaking, infuriating, but at school and cubs, I can be myself with the kids, and I know where I stand with them.  They don't placate, humiliate, undermine, dismiss.  They praise when they are impressed, they criticize when they are not.  It is clear to me when I have inspired them, when I have upset them, when I have amused them, when I've made a difference to them, and I collect the experiences eagerly.  It is easier than being around adults, and I learn more from them than I can in adult company.  I am learning about social interaction as they do - It is more inspiring than anything I have ever done, and when I see them growing up and learning how to manage in the world, it gives me hope for myself.

Charley shows off his Viking ship homework

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!

Capacity building

I recently travelled to Egypt for a diving holiday.  Seems such a straightforward and harmless statement doesn't it?  I went on holiday - just popped onto a plane and got off in another country, got my transfer to the accommodation and Bob's your uncle!

Here's how my experience really went:

We piled into the car at 4.30pm on Good Friday and took to the road.  Apparently, the rest of the UK did, too.  Even though I wasn't driving, the ensuing 2 hours, 45 minutes of motorway driving left me exhausted:  The driving conditions were poor, with rain, darkening skies and roadworks and breakdowns everywhere.  When travelling at speed, I find the rate of visual input completely overwhelming, but I am also plagued with anxiety which furnishes me with constant, detailed and realistic visualisations of potential incident after potential incident.  The truly exhausting part was having to hide all this from my son, so that he wasn't affected by my anxiety.

Fortunately, I have had plenty of experience of staying in hotels (required in several of my previous jobs) so I am not as affected by strange accommodation as I might be.  The grossly decorated lobby with its alarmingly squishy carpet was airy and open plan, so I was able to relax somewhat - only the constant visualisations of horrific plane crashes from the neighbouring Gatwick Airport to concern myself with...

An early morning rise for check-in saw the return of my favourite coping mechanism:  Panic humour. Being hyper aware with anxiety means excellent comic timing, and there was a wealth of material in peoples' reaction to the ludicrous management and staffing in the check-in queues...  A welcome distraction from the looming flight.  By the time we entered the departures lounge and it's wealth of noisy, smelly, crowded food outlets, I was exhausted and staring at the joins in the flooring materials whenever possible.  Still aware of the importance of 'staying positive', I kept up the cheery exterior and focused on my son, who was taking everything in his stride, considering it was his first trip abroad... only my husband was aware of my mounting anxiety.

The bus journey to the plane seemed to take forever - showing every possible angle of the plane that was to be our transport to Egypt.  I forced myself to endure it, inwardly chanting things like "no, the rivets are supposed to look like that", "don't look at the engines" and "you don't know anything about what well-maintained landing gear looks like", and trying to remember air travel versus air accident statistics to put my mind at rest.  This self calming continued on board - "they look competent".  "At least the pilot seems mature"...  The facade nearly slipped when my son insisted I sit next to him in full view of the tiny window for the 5 hour journey.  A matter of minutes later, I found myself in the ridiculous position of 'whooping' for my son's benefit at the excitement of the take off, whilst simultaneously crushing my husband's hand in terror!

As soon as we were allowed, I got out my chosen book and put on my mp3 player at top volume, determined to distract myself from anything that might remind me that I was in a plane.  Sadly, my book choice could have better, beginning as it did, with an explosion at an airport...  Luckily, my son's tablet battery lasted almost the entire flight, so I didn't have to keep up the facade for him, but my husband's hand suffered every time there was a little turbulence...

The next five hours are, thankfully, already fading from my memory - a nauseating cycle of anxiety, trolley avoidance, speculation and visual scenarios until our imminent arrival at Hurghada was announced. Any relief was short lived as figures for the statistical likelihood of failures on landing began whizzing though my head, despite my understanding of the overall safety of air travel.  After a bit of waiting around, security checks and baggage collecting, we made our way to the exit to meet our transfer. I was practically a zombie by now, all my coping mechanisms exhausted, so the hour and a half break-neck drive to our destination (with no seat belts and a tendency for our alarmingly young driver to drive at on-coming vehicles even when blinded by their full beams) passed relatively quickly.

I did not sleep for the next 3 nights.  This seems to be as a result of the anxiety of this type of travel - I usually just crash after too much social interaction - sleeping for longer than usual, but foreign travel requires another magnitude of effort.

The journey back was somewhat less stressful, buoyed as I was, by having survived the journey there!   Why put myself through it?  Well this isn't simply a fear of travelling...  I know it will improve, as everything does, with familiarity - my capacity for dealing with travel will improve.  It is only now that my son is old enough to have qualified as a diver that we can all go together.  I am immensely pleased to be a diver and able to see the amazing sights under the Red Sea, as the memories generated by the holiday in between these terrifying episodes have to be amazing to justify the effort!

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!)

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…

Anxiety Rules (First posted 9th January 2016)

I worry about things a lot.  This can make me seem pessimistic and paranoid, but it is something I struggle to control.  It’s something that has been with me for as long as I can remember. Whenever I had an unsatisfactory exchange with a family member, another student, or teacher at school, (a misunderstanding, perhaps, or failure to notice and comment on a new haircut) I would worry for days, if not weeks about it, literally losing sleep over it, and it would often lead to my avoiding the person in question thereafter.  

Equally, if I had a pleasant and successful exchange, (a long conversation with someone who shared one of my interests, for instance) I would soon begin to worry about the potential for a misunderstanding (on my part) to bring about the end of a burgeoning friendship, leaving someone I cared about hurt and confused.  I am blessed with a singularly vivid imagination and the graphic nightmares that accompany this anxiety are cinematic in nature.  This anxiety, this self-doubt has never left me and still colours every exchange.

This fear is an issue that is well known among people with Asperger’s, and it can be crippling.  I am lucky in that I have people to help me to find the courage to keep trying: I have the support and understanding of my wonderful husband who’s outgoing personality continues to put opportunity after opportunity for socialising in my path.  I also have the added incentive to be a strong and confident role model for my son.

Decoding everyday exchanges in a purely intellectual way is extremely hard work and riddled with danger.  (This is the reason for my usual frown of concentration; putting on a smile is just another thing I have to remember.)  I work in a large school and have to tackle hundreds of such exchanges every day.  Granted, it is easier with children, as they are usually more honest, predictable and transparent in their exchanges than are adults. To engage at all, I have had to become a student of language myself (researching colloquialisms, idioms, turns of phrase, body language and the like.)  Unfortunately, I didn’t realise until after I had embarked on this course of action, that learning to ‘navigate’ creates a vicious circle of its own:  The better you cope, the less understanding people show when things go wrong.  The longer you can keep up; the more ‘normal’ you appear, the more likely that misunderstandings will be judged as willful or deliberately hurtful.   It is EXHAUSTING.  

The endlessly sophisticated and ingenious intricacy of human communication navigated intuitively by neuro-typicals is mind-boggling.  Most people can have no awareness of the sheer volume of observations, decisions, judgments made,  hints, clues, signals given in a matter of seconds during a casual chat.  It is an enormous barrier to understanding those of us who do not possess this intuition.   It was this realisation that led me think more about the handful of people that I can truthfully call ‘friends’, and appreciate the patience they show and efforts they make in merely putting up with me!  Not giving myself enough credit, you think…?  No.  I have no illusions about that. I am patently aware how different things might have been…

Anyone with Asperger’s will know about the ever-present companion to anxiety: Depression.  It is a constant battle not to give up the effort, close the door and surrender to self pity, exhaustion and the inevitable spiral into depression.  I have had many periods of deep, damaging depression in my life, and I am immensely proud and pleased that I have not had a major episode for the four years since my diagnosis.

I am sorry if this post seems to concentrate too much on the negative, but that is a necessity when you discuss feelings like fear, doubt, anxiety and depression.  They are an ever-present part of my reality.  Don’t worry! I will write another post shortly about some of the amazing gifts and joys that also share my everyday life.