Top 12 of '12

In honor of the culmination of the year 2012 (WE SURVIVED A MAYAN ALIEN ATTACK, OR WHATEVER THAT WHOLE THING WAS ABOUT!!!), this is a countdown of my top 12 favorite posts I made during the past year.

Yes, this is my blog's version of a clip show.

Enjoy!

12. The Self Aware Aspie  (12/23/12) - how a diagnosis helps an Aspie and others understand their situation.

11. Feeling Out of Place (8/15/12) - I get the feeling that I don't belong.

10. Friday Night Anti-Socialite  (11/3/12) - I am EXTREMELY uncomfortable at a social gathering.

9. Like I'm Not Even There  (4/6/12) - Nobody listens to my awesome ideas.

8. Perfectionism (7/15/12) - Why can't everything be right?

7. The Dentist (1/25/12) - I suffer through a trip to the dentist.

6. Dunkin Donuts Ruins My Day (1/10/12) - It's the little things that drive me mad.

5. Hi, Nice to Meet You. By the Way, I Have Aspergers. (10/15/12) - How does one drop the Aspie bomb?

4. I'M NORMAL!!! (for once) (10/16/12) - I surprise myself with my unexpectedly rational behavior.

3. The Challenges of Being an Aspie and a Parent  (6/28/12) - You think being an NT parent is hard?

2. Unseen Health Risks of Aspergers (2/23/12) - A doctor's office can be a scary place.

1. Facing the Truth  (8/6/12) - Aspies will save the world!

Conference Call

Ok, so I've been stressing out a bit about next week. I have my first test in my online course next week, but that's not the worst of things. The thing I'm stressing out the most about is a conference call that is scheduled for Sunday.

First off, I'm working midnights this weekend, so I'm going to be sleepish during the whole thing. Second, the entire class and I will be meeting on Skype to discuss... whatever we are going to discuss. I'm still learning the ins and outs of Skype, so I have no idea if it's going to go well or not. I also have no idea what's expected of me in this phone call.

I expected the learning and the work to be the hard part of this course. That stuff seems to me moving along pretty well. It's all of this other talking-to-people stuff that is becoming a chore.

I Wish I Was Special

I've been busy the past week or two with a whole bunch of stuff. I just came back from a week in Indiana for the Orientation Week of an online course I am taking. I'm taking the course to become an SBB, or Specialist in Blood Banking. Basically, I'll be learning every single in-and-out detail of my job. Hopefully it will give me better qualifications for promotion or a supervisor job someday, which means more responsibility for not a whole lot more money.

The orientation week was... interesting. The point of the orientation was to make sure we had all the materials we needed to start, as well as to get to know and interact with the other people who are taking the course alongside me.

What, what? Interaction with people? I paid $3000 for this?

WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?

Actually, it went pretty well and I had a great time! The beginning of the week was somewhat awkward. It felt like forced socialization, which I find almost as enjoyable as bathing my eyeballs in rubbing alcohol. But the classroom/learning setting allowed me to kind of settle in and focus on the information rather than being normal. By Friday I actually enjoyed talking with these people, which is good because I'll be conferring with them on projects and stuff throughout the year.

I think what helped me warm up to these people was that:
a) I realized that these people were interested in and passionate about many of the same things I was. I could talk shop with them and not worry about looking like a dork.
and...
b) Thursday night, the education coordinator took us out to dinner and paid for everything including alcohol, and I got a little buzzed.  :)

But seriously, I was able to talk to these people because I realized they were like me - nerd-ish people who were interested in advancing their knowledge because they wanted to. And they wanted to be there bad enough that they were willing to pay for it. And talking about work with these people led to other conversations where I was able to actually share (gulp) personal things about myself. And it was fun!

Now the hard work begins - a full year of busting my ass to pass this course. Wish me luck!

Friday Night Anti-Socialite

My daughter goes to an ASD socialization group every couple of weeks. I usually can't go because I work evenings, but tonight I had off so I was able to go. The kids break up into groups to help foster some social networking skills, and the parents are free to attend a special conference event, usually focusing on some ideas and resources for parents to deal with the difficulties of having a child on the spectrum. I thought it would be nice to tag along with the family.

I'm not so sure I want to go again.

The subject of the conference was helping your ASD child improve their social skills. As the presentation went on, I felt myself getting more and more stressed out. First of all, the presenter decided to go with an interactive format, which threw me off. I didn't know we were supposed to be answering questions! I was ready to trudge through the boring parts by playing cell phone games. What happens if I get called on? Now I have to pay attention! It felt like I was back in elementary school, without the fun of gym class. And the worst of it is, they are asking questions that I have no idea how to answer. For example:

"What does it mean to you to be social or to have a friend?"

Ummm....

I have Aspergers. I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT.

As the discussion continues, the parents start offering examples of the difficulties that their children face. Many of these are greeted with chuckles or bursts of laughter from the crowd - probably from knowing all too well what the commenter has gone through. However, I experience a lot of the same issues that are being shared... and chuckled and laughed at. Now I feel like I'm being made fun of. Once again, just like elementary school.

It also bothered me that a lot of the conference seemed geared towards how to "fix" the problems of the ASD child, such as coming up with ways to get the child to socialize and make friends or "succeed" in social situations. This turned me off completely. Is Autism something that needs to be fixed? Am I a failure just because I'm not as comfortable in social situations as an NT is?

My wife says I'm crazy, and that's not what it's all about. I agree that I am probably oversensitive due to my unique viewpoint. I just think that parents focus too much on their expectations and what they want for their child. What they should be focusing on is what makes their child happy and help them achieve those goals. If the kid wants to be more social, then helping them along is a wonderful thing. But if the kid is happy playing by him/herself and wants to be left alone, forcing socialization skills on him/her is just a self-serving act to comfort the parent's anxieties of failure and social rejection.

As if to underscore this theme, the conference ended with the parents breaking up into smaller groups to share ideas and solutions that worked for them. I snuck out the back door before our group formed. Thankfully, and this is why I love her, my wife didn't force me to stay.

I'M NORMAL!!! (for once)

So I did something today that was VERY out of character...

I was assigned by my wife to pick up lunch while picking up my son from preschool. I ordered the kids food, then I ordered what my wife usually gets. In a moment of unexpected brilliance, I quickly checked my phone to see if she wanted something else. Lo and behold, she did. Only one problem...

I had already ordered.

My personal issues with the drive-thru have been discussed before. So she's going to just have to deal with eating what I ordered, right?

NO!!!! Surprising myself - and my wife, who later said she thought I was making it up - I corrected my order and got the food that my wife wanted!

I'm not really sure what got into me, but I was able to admit that I was wrong and change my order, ignoring my fear of looking stupid in front of people. I did make a self-depricating-yet-truthful comment about me being a pain in the ass (I couldn't help it), but I still go tthe job done! And my wife truly enjoyed her Big Mac.

Now maybe she won't nag me as much as usual for the rest of this week.
I don't think she reads this blog. Whatever you do, DON'T TELL HER I SAID THIS.

Hi, Nice to Meet You. By the Way, I Have Aspergers.

Being an Aspie, I find it very difficult to decide when is the right time for "full disclosure" when meeting new people - by which I mean mentioning my Aspergers. Bringing it up too early may seem weird, or it may even sound like I'm trying to make an excuse. Saying it too late may leave a lot of odd behaviors unexplained.

My wife and I were talking with one of the other moms while waiting to pick my son up at preschool, which means my wife was talking with one of the other moms while I stood next to her silently nodding my head every so often. My attention happens to tune in when they begin talking about the challenges of parenting a child with Aspergers - her son, who was in the same preschool as my son, has Aspergers. Almost immediately and without thinking, I nearly blurt out "I have Aspergers, too!!!"

I somehow managed not to make myself look silly, and once I figured out that my Aspie-ness has nothing to do with parenting and Aspie, I figured I was better off not opening my mouth. But it got me thinking about how to approach the issue when meeting someone new. I guess it should just come up naturally in conversation, but (unless this is your first time visiting my blog) you should know by now that the words "conversation" and "naturally" don't play well together in my world.

Feeling Out of Place

To those who know me from this blog or follow me on Twitter, I'm sure it's clear that I suffer from a number of social anxieties. While a lot of them may be trivial to most people, it's pretty much standard fare for a person who has Aspergers. One of my fears that I am reminded of on almost a daily basis is my fear of looking stupid.

I'm a pretty smart guy. I like being smart; it makes me feel good. I like knowing how to use semicolons correctly. Somewhere deep inside, part of me believes that my intelligence is all that I have. So when I look stupid, I end up losing respect for myself and I get pissed off. A good amount of my tantrums have been caused by me doing something idiotic and getting mad at myself for it.

I hate trying new things because of this. Trying new things means learning something, and learning starts with not knowing something. The "figuring it out" phase is the worst part because I feel like everyone is looking at me, knowing that I don't have any idea what I'm doing. And don't even say it - asking for help is out of the question because it shows just how clueless I am.

This all comes up today after I went to go work out. My family got a membership to an indoor activity center, with a pool for the kids and a fitness center/gym included (think YMCA, only without the Village People). With the membership I got a free fitness assessment, which was just as much fun as it sounds. The results showed that I needed to improve my upper body strength, a result that even a legally blind person could have come up with just by looking at me.

Now, as you may have guessed, I'm not a "gym guy." I never even set foot on a treadmill before the fitness assessment. I feel completely out of place, and I think everyone can tell that I really don't belong there. So you can imagine how comfortable I am with using all of those complicated weight machines. I can picture it now - standing there looking dumbfounded, scratching my head as I try to decipher the instructions; the snickers and chuckles I'd have to endure as I struggle with the machine, looking more like I'm trying to have sex with the machine than exercise with it; the crushing humiliation when one of the trainers puts their hand on my shoulder, as if to say, "You've entertained us enough for today, you can go now."

I figure that's the best case scenario.

I know eventually I'll get annoyed enough with myself where I'll go all drill sergeant on myself and FORCE myself to do it. Or I'll wait until nobody's around so I can have my accidental weight machine intercourse with nobody watching.

Prefectionism Perfectionism

One interesting trait that I notice a lot of people with Aspergers show is perfectionism. The perfectionism usually goes right along with one of the Aspie's main "passions" - if the Aspie is interested in doing something, it MUST be done perfectly, otherwise what's the point in doing it? Note that this is not the same as OCD, although Aspies can show that as well. No, this isn't excessive handwashing or hyper-organization I'm talking about. It's the overwhelming need to NOT BE WRONG.

My daughter is having so much trouble with this right now. She has been absolutely tearing through her home school assignments. She's learning stuff so quickly that she's now getting deep into Grade 2 assignments even though she is only 7. As she comes across subjects that are more complex, it's natural for her not to have all the answers right away.

Try telling her this.

When she doesn't know the answer to a question, she does everything she can to avoid making an incorrect guess. She will whine, cry, overdramatize... ANYTHING to avoind giving a wrong answer. Even after I tell her to take a guess and that being wrong is okay, she still won't give in. She has had full on, hour long tantrums simply because she could not spell the word "bounce."

Although my reactions aren't as extreme, I definitely have a perfectionism issue as well. While it's an asset professionally (I work in a place that pretty much demands perfectionism), it is a drain on my psyche socially. My perfectionism manifests itself as a fear of looking stupid in front of people by doing something "wrong." That's why I'm constantly second guessing my behavior, which accounts for a great deal of my social awkwardness and anxiety.

The good thing is I have learned to cope with my perfectionism to a degree. I've learned that being perfect is pretty much impossible, and that my best effort is all I should be looking for. If I'm wrong, so be it, as long as I tried my hardest to do the right thing. In essence: the best I can do is the best I can do.

Now if I can just get my daughter to believe that bullshit.

The Dentist

I had a rough day yesterday because I had to go to the dentist. I knew it was going to be tough; I even told my wife the day before that I REALLY didn't want to go. But I knew I had to go, so I sucked it up and went and got it over with.

My Aspergers presents me with advantages and disadvantages when it comes to dealing with the dentist. On one hand, my Aspergers has blessed me with a well-above-average pain tolerance. I actually have the ability to unfocus my brain on what's going on in my mouth and focus on tiny details around the room (a poster, the fluorescent light above me, etc.). This makes the actual dental work that needs to be done a piece of cake for me.

The hard part is the social aspect, of course. I can hear you asking, "What about going to the dentist counts as a social interaction?"

The first thing you must know is that my teeth - for lack of a better description - are fucked up. I have major crowding issues, teeth squished into places where they don't belong, and in general I just have a major mess going on in there. It's not pretty. The whole situation makes brushing and flossing very difficult. Although not horrendous, my oral hygiene could be much better. This whole situation is embarassing for me, so it's obviously uncomfortable for me to be poked, prodded, and evaluated on how disgusting my mouth is.

But I got through it! My back was all sweaty, and my head hurt a little, and my wife had to order a pizza as comfort food for lunch... but I made it through! To be honest - and this is a little embarassing to admit, but what else is this blog for? - I was proud of myself for doing it. Maybe I can use this as inspiration in the future when I'm facing a difficult situation; I can do it if I just grit my (horribly disfigured) teeth and go for it.

It's Not As Bad As It Looks

The family went to a kids' music concert yesterday and had TONS of fun. Lots of dancing and jumping around in the aisles, and my little aspie really enjoyed it. A great time was had by all.

Talking to my wife afterwards, I found out that she was a little concerned that I was having a problem with the crowd of people there (the theater was packed with people). Contrary to normal aspie behavior, I'm actually pretty comfortable in a crowd, only because there is very little focus on me as an individual. If I'm allowed to blend in and be part of the scenery, I'm okay with that. Being part of the background is a nice feeling.

(I also think that since I had the opportunity to sit in a corner and avoid sitting next to anybody helped me be comfortable a lot.)

The problem I have is when I get together with a bunch of people and I'm forced to be social with them. If there was some sort of Q&A discussion after the concert, I would have been a nervous wreck. But since everyone else's attention was on the stage, being in the crowd didn't bother me in the least.

I think my biggest social fear is not of being in crowds, but instead it's sticking out in a crowd. It's being that one guy that everyone else is looking at and thinking, "What's that dude's problem?" I'd rather nobody look at me... or even be completely alone.

He Looked At Me!!!

Just a little example of what can knock an Aspie's day completely off track.

A shipment of office supplies comes in today, and the delivery guy needs a signature for the delivery form. I've done this a thousand times, no biggie. I could probably fill out the form with my eyes closed. And, as I've mentioned in previous posts, I can be friendly with the delivery guy in a work setting. As I finish filling out the form and begin to hand it back to him, I get this strange sensation that I'm being looked at.

I'm betting almost every Aspie knows this sensation. You can feel someone's eyes on you as if they are exerting some sort of palpable force onto you. From any angle, from behind, even from a decent distance away, I swear I can feel when someone is staring at me.

So I hand him the form and - BECAUSE I HAVE TO, DAMMIT!!! - I look up to confirm my suspicions. And, of course, I'm right. He's looking right at me.

And he holds eye contact with me.

I'm guessing it was about 45 minutes that we locked eyes, but it was more likely less than a second in reality. But that one moment made me so uncomfortable, and this is one of the essences of living with Aspergers. Eye contact is an intensely personal experience for us; if you know an Aspie and s/he can naturally hold eye contact with you, consider yourself in high regard with that person. It sounds like I'm going overboard, but I really felt invaded and violated, simply because our pupils aligned.

Afterwards, I felt like a mess. I couldn't concentrate on my work, I felt very tense, and I had a strong desire to pick at my fingers (didn't though!!!). My day, which was pretty darn decent up until then, got completely thrown out of whack. I've been slowly bringing my self back to center and trying to relax since then - dinner break helps a lot. Suprisingly, blogging about it helps even more.

That's So Nice Of You

I appreciate when people are friendly. I really do. But I would much rather someone just smile and walk by instead of trying to have a conversation with me. Most people enjoy the interaction; for me it's just too difficult.

Yesterday morning at church - after surviving the weekly "Sharing of the Peace" (which I've blogged about before) - I was waiting for my family by the car when a couple was walking by on the way to their car. I don't know them well, but I do know that they are nice people. They were havivng a conversation between themselves as they walked by, so I think I'm safe. As they pass me, the woman touches my elbow (!!!!!!!!!) and starts up some small talk with me.

Now, I have enough experience with you normal people to know that I'm supposed to talk back. I just can't do it without a significant amount of effort. It doesn't feel right. But I do it. And, unbelievably, it works! No weird comments, no crazy faces - a successful social interaction!

As the couple leaves, stress leaves my body in a huge sigh almost as if I was a pressure cooker. I couldn't help but feel stressed and a little triggered for the rest of the day, though. It worked out well, but I would rather not have to use up so much energy just trying to appear normal to the world.

Anxiously Sharing the Peace

The church I go to has a custom of "sharing the peace" at the beginning of each ceremony - the people in the congregation walk around the church, shaking hands with each other and sharing a friendly hello.

For a person with Aspergers like me, it's torture.

I thought church was about trying to avoid hell, not putting people in it.

The smallest social interactions can be so uncomfortable for Aspies:
- calling a doctor's office to make an appointment
- listening to a coworker's story about their weekend
- being alone in a room with a friend of a friend
- having to explain an idea to someone who may not be interested

All of these exchanges may seem simple to a neurotypical person. To Aspies, these are great challenges that we must overcome. And we shall overcome... if you force us to.

The Social Exchange

You normal people take a lot of things for granted. For example: the ability to have a normal conversation with a waiter in a restaurant without feeling like a complete idiot.

My family went out to dinner last night, and we had a great time. The food was good, we had fun, and service was very nice. The only problem I had was the waiter kept going "off script."

You see, ever since i was a kid I've been watching the interaction between my parents and the waiters of the restaurants we went to. During all of these visits, my Aspie brain crafted a specific "script" that I usually try to stick to when conversing with the waiter. I expect certain questions and I can have the answers ready in advance in order to make everything run smoothly through dinner. But when a question comes from off script, I don't know what to say.

It's usually when a waiter makes a friendly remark about something other than the meal, or when he or she asks a vague question. Last night, the waiter asked "Should I leave that, or are you finished?" My brain immediately sees the following problems with the question:

1) I'm not 100% sure who he is talking to. Is he talking to my wife, in which case if I answer I will be interrupting? Or is he talking to me, in which case if I don't answer I look like I'm not paying attention?

2) I'm not sure which plate he's talking about. We had salad and appetizer plates in front of us. I was done with the salad but not the appetizer. How am I supposed to answer for him to take one plate but leave the other?

3) It's a double question. Does "Yes" mean I'm still eating, or that he should take the plate? I don't even know how to answer this question!

So you see, my brain is stuck figuring out how to answer the question in order to get the result I want, rather than just answering the question. My wife, of course, jumps in and answers right away because she's normal. She doesn't have to do all of these calculations in her brain before coming to a conclusion. It's just natural for her.

So next time you are ordering from the drive-thru and need to make a last second change to your order, or a customer assistance operator asks you for an unexpected piece of information, take a moment to enjoy the fact that you don't have to go through the work that my brain does in order to come up with the "correct" answer.