Special Interests and Empathy.
28 Nov 2010 Leave a Comment
in Asperger's, autism Tags: Asperger's, autism, empathy, special interests
The Holocaust has been an extremely strong pull in my life; a major interest. I have been drawn to many testimonies of survivors, and non-survivors whose writings survived, as well as interviews of survivors. (e.g., Elie Wiesel, Etty Hillesum, Victor Frankl, Anne Frank, Simone Weil, Corrie ten Boom, and several others). These many books seemed to come into my life as if drawn by a magnet.
I am not really interested in statistics, such as how many people were rounded up in Poland verses Holland, etc., (although I recognize the historical value). What has caught my attention has been first hand accounts, stories by or about individuals or families. They reveal so much courage and caring in the midst of tragedy.
I went to the Montreal Holocaust Memorial Museum a few years ago. I took the train to Montreal and a taxi to the Memorial because I did not have the energy to drive (ME/CFS). Back then the website said to allow about one or one-and-a-half hours to view the exhibits. I spent three-and-a-half hours in the Memorial. I looked at every video testimony, read every card identifying each exhibit, and studied each exhibit. I had almost finished when I had to leave in order to catch a train home. I had already missed the train home for which I had a ticket. I was very drained.
There was so much horror and tragedy (and I have to say triumph, too), but one image in particular caught my attention and broke my heart, perhaps more than any other. Burned into my memory is one black-and-white photograph that was mounted down low. I remember squatting down to look at it. There was an extremely emaciated young woman lying on a sidewalk with her back to a store window. She was propped up on one elbow. Her loose dress hung on her body which had been reduced to skin and bones. How I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and bring her home to feed her. But I would have been only five months old at the most, and probably not even born, at the time of the photograph. What made matters worse was a chubby female leg entering the picture from the right. It was on a direct path to take the healthy woman past the starving woman without coming near her. The whole scene was devastating and the image has stuck in my mind all these years.
My mind simply cannot process the Holocaust. It freezes whenever I try to think about it. But my heart breaks and aches and wants to hold all the people who suffered in it.
I will stop here. I think this post illustrates the depth of ”special interests” that Aspies are alleged to have. I hope it also shows a bit of the “empathy” that some claim we don’t have.
Gratitude
22 Nov 2010 9 Comments
in acceptance, gratitude Tags: acceptance, basic goodness, don't know, expectations, gratefulness, gratitude, who am I?
Today I thought I would modify a post I did on my other blog last April, and copy it here:
I awoke this morning. Not everyone did.
I opened my eyes and found I could see. Not everyone can.
I heard the fan humming. Not everyone can hear.
I wanted to get up – so I did! Not everyone can do that.
I can walk, think, talk, write. Not everyone can.
There is no shortage of things for which I can be grateful, if only I stop and think about it.
I was given the gift of life for a new day. I haven’t done anything to deserve it. There is nothing that can be done. It is always a gift.
Life itself is a pure gift. For too long I have taken these basics for granted, as if I were somehow entitled to them. They were always there so I assumed I had a right to them. How arrogant of me.
I wake up to discover that I am still breathing, still pulsing. Someday I won’t.
I wake up to discover that I can see, hear, get up! Someday I won’t.
Each and every moment is a gift. Every breath is a gift. I don’t have to think “now breathe a deep one, now breathe a shallow one”. My breathing just happens. Same with my pulse. My heart just beats without direction from me.
If I am looking for something to be thankful for, I need look no farther than my breath and my pulse.
I did not build this body/mind which I call mine. Nor do I know how to keep it going. I am the beneficiary of something or someone far greater than I.
And so I am grateful to our Creator and Sustainer (or, if you prefer, the Universe, Life, the Absolute, etc.) for all these many gifts.
I will live with joy in this body of mine, and experience these many good gifts for what they really are: pure gifts.
“I lie down and sleep; I wake again, for the Lord sustains me.” Psalm 3:5 nrsv
Gratitude: there is no shortage of things for which I can be grateful if only I stop and think. Often in my posts I am focussing on difficulties I experienced, but I am basically so much happier than I have been in a long time. This I credit to the Aspie/autie community helping me to understand who I am and why my life unfolded as it did. It is such a relief to be home!
Touch, Texture, and Pressure.
17 Nov 2010 8 Comments
in Asperger's, autism, senses Tags: Asperger's, autism, senses, sensitivity, sensory overload, texture, touch
Touch, texture, and pressure are things I have been sensitive to since I was young.
Pressure: I enjoy having covers pressing down on me. My mother always made beds that were firmly tucked in at the foot and even the sides. I like the feel of weight on me and so I am unable to sleep if I have only a sheet on top of my pajamas. I usually have a sheet, one blanket (at least), and a comforter. Lately, since switching to a long queen size mattress, I have found that the weight of the comforter and blanket puts sufficient pressure on my feet that I no longer need the sheet and blankets tucked in at the foot. This is because my six-foot-one-inch frame no longer overhangs the foot end of the bed. I think if my feet still hung over, it would be essential to tuck in the sheet and blanket. I also prefer, when lying on my side, to have the covers drape down and completely cover my back and front with no air gap. I seem to need to be in a cocoon. (Rachel has a post on a weighted blanket).
Texture, especially of food, is also important to me. A few days ago my wife made a lovely squash soup. It had chopped onions in it which added to the flavour. But there was also chopped parsley in there and I could not handle the texture of this. I had to remove the tiny morsels from my mouth and then spoon around the remaining parsley in the bowl. I also dislike the sensation of wool against my skin. Cotton is my favourite fabric. I dislike having polyester blended in because a shirt made of a blend feels to me like a plastic bag. I want my clothes to breathe.
Touch has been an issue all my life. I remember many a physical exam when the physician tried to check my liver, spleen, etc., by poking his fingertips into my abdomen. I found this so unbearably ticklish that I would recoil. And my mother had the habit of getting my attention by lightly touching my arm with her fingertips. I found this irritating, but did not know why at the time and therefore never thought to ask her to not touch me lightly. Now that I have reached retirement age, my nerves seem to be degenerating (neuropathy) and I find I am much less sensitive to touch.
This pickiness, or sensitivity, may seem trivial compared to the pain caused by glare or the confusion caused by noise at a lunch table. But it is among many other things that made me feel different. One reason for writing these posts is to document my experiences and open them to scrutiny (comments). Perhaps some of this is just unique to me and not part of the spectrum. But by exploring my past in these posts, I am gaining understanding and insight about how and why my life unfolded as it did. Hopefully this process will enable some readers to relate, and feel a little less alone, just as I did when I found this blogging community.
Those Days Are Over!!!
10 Nov 2010 17 Comments
in acceptance, Asperger's, autism, social conditioning Tags: acceptance, Asperger's, autism, belonging, conformity, expectations, masks, social conditioning
I was composing a comment on Laura’s blog in response to her post on the relief she experienced in finding an understanding developmental pediatrician. I am so glad she found someone who is sensitive and open. But the comment got long enough that I decided to use it instead as a post on my own blog! It’s a topic that gets me rather worked up and I think it deserves an actual post here.
As a retired adult I have run into rejection of my Aspieness by two professionals who may not have a full understanding of Asperger’s, and who also see me appearing as a competent intelligent person in their offices. If only they knew the huge strain it takes to pull off that act!
One of those professionals is my kind family physician who, even though she thinks I don’t have Asperger’s, is willing to make a referral for a formal assessment if I want one. And she respects my self assessment, even if she doesn’t see it at this point. She gives me the impression that she has an open mind on the issue.
I am so glad to have found your blog Laura, and those of others in the community, because I can read what you all say about your lives and I can make a mental checklist…. yup, that’s me…yup, that’s me… right down the list. It astonishes me how you all know so much about “me”.
I think when I have a couple of dozen posts on my blog I should print them out and hand them as a package to these two professionals. It would be an eye opener for them I am sure. They have no idea what is hidden behind my facade of competence. It is hidden because I have trouble organizing and expressing thoughts, and remembering my past, on the spur of the moment, such as when I am face-to-face with professionals. And I have learned to stuff my emotions. I put on a really good act, not just out of habit but also because I have been at it so long that I can no longer cry or pound my fist in public. I’m a very “appropriate”, “cooperative” and “together” person. In short, I allowed the system to beat me into conformity. It suits their needs.
But now that I have found my tribe and my voice, those days are over!! Thank you Aspie bloggers! 
Snow
08 Nov 2010 8 Comments
in Asperger's, autism, senses Tags: Asperger's, autism, sensory overload, simplicity
I woke up to snow on Sunday October 31st. It was peacefully exhilarating if that is not a contradiction in terms. I felt happy to see the snow return. It reminded me of how I like the winter so much.
There was a transformation of our yard. The day before it had been a jumble of brown leaves, green grass, gray stones, black earth, a green deck, a red upside-down canoe, and yellow wilting plants. Now everything was covered by a blanket of smooth white snow. Chaos had been transformed into uniformity and simplicity. The cars sound so quiet on our gravel road when the snow dampens their tire sounds.
Snow brings the relief of simplicity and silence. There is a great reduction of stimuli for my brain to process. All is a soft subdued white, except for the grey tree trunks, and some green spruce and cedar boughs peeking through the snow.
My world is all covered in soft country-white snow.
So soothing, peaceful, simple, and silent.
Unfortunately it only lasted a day, but I know winter is coming soon.
The Joys of Socializing
04 Nov 2010 12 Comments
in Asperger's, autism Tags: Asperger's, autism, Brain Fog, burnout, eyes, glare, memory, noise, sensitivity, sensory overload
The joys of socializing were experienced by me again yesterday and I was reminded of why, even though I enjoy it in small doses, I make sure the doses are few and far between.
First of all I would like to say that, contrary to comedic stereotypes, my mother-in-law has always been kind to me and I have no problems with her as a person. Secondly, I post this not in search of sympathy, and not to complain, but to document my life on the autism spectrum. I hope such documentation may be of help to others, as I have benefitted so much from the blogs of my fellow autistics/Aspergians who have shared their lives.
Yesterday my wife and I visited my mother-in-law, who lives about a one-and-a-half hour drive away. My wife drove. There was a short visit and then my wife and her mother went out to do some grocery shopping while I walked for some exercise.
After they returned there was some more socializing in the living room. The low sun was shining into the room from over my shoulder as I sat with my back to a large window. The bright sunlight was hitting my mother-in-law’s white slacks. The dazzling sparkling glare was so penetrating and painful to my eyes that I put on my sunglasses. My mother-in-law asked if I could see in the room with my sunglasses on. I assured her that I could see just fine and attempted to explain about the glare from the sun. I quickly realized that my explanation was being met with polite incomprehension and possibly the feeling that I was nuts.
The radio was playing classical music fairly loudly in the next room. My wife was yelling in order to converse with her partially deaf mother. The pain in my ears was unbearable. I considered going back outside to walk some more but rejected that idea as rude since there had been so little social time with my mother-in-law. I picked up my backpack and retrieved my earplugs. I held them in my hand and thought of inserting them in my ears to gain some relief. I vacillated several times and returned the plugs to my pack as I did not want to appear rude.
On the drive home, to shield my eyes from the low sun, I tied my scarf over my sunglasses like a blindfold (as I said, my wife was driving ). I commented to my wife that I felt so very tired.
The sensory overload from sight and sound had drained my brain. Later in the evening, when I tried to put some comments on friend’s blogs and reply to comments on my blog, I found that I just couldn’t think. It was as if my brain was mush. When I was diagnosed in 1993 with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome I learned that this was called “Brain Fog.” Writing was really difficult. I managed to write a couple of brief comments or replies, if I remember correctly. I noticed that Rachel and Laura had each posted on the “cure” but my brain could not remember from the beginning of one paragraph to the end, so I couldn’t follow their well written arguments. So I decided not to comment at all on the “cure” (partly because, being new to the community, I am not up on the issues, and partly because I was struggling so much with my thinking and writing).
So now it is almost twenty-four hours later and my brain is still somewhat foggy. I probably shouldn’t be writing. I am still tired and feeling rather numb in the head, although I am on the mend. I got a phone call from my doctor’s receptionist this afternoon reminding me that I have an appointment on Monday. This took me by surprise as my brain supplied no memory of an upcoming appointment. The receptionist then told me that I had made the appointment for the purpose of getting my memory tested! Good grief!
So was it all worth it? Yes, it was nice to see my mother-in-law and to have an outing with my wife. But I don’t think I’ll do it again tomorrow. At least not until the fog lifts.
Speaking out, not shutting up!
01 Nov 2010 20 Comments
in Asperger's, autism Tags: Asperger's, autism, belonging, community
I shall speak and not be silenced. I don’t use, and know almost nothing about, Twitter and Facebook. But I have found in the blogging world a sense of community — and new friends whom I would have never met otherwise. All my life I have been wondering what is wrong with me. Many people have reinforced the notion that there is something wrong. I searched for answers but never found a satisfactory explanation for my out-of-step life. Then I discovered Asperger’s and a vibrant online community. It felt like I had come home. I realized that there was nothing wrong with me at all. I am simply different, and different in ways that I can value. I don’t think rapidly on my feet, so I find blogging makes communication easier than face-to-face or telephone, because it slows down the pace. The vast majority of my social interaction, outside my family, is on Aspie/autie blogs these days. So why would I want to put artificial walls of silence between me and my new friends?
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