Believe me, being in a non-verbal state is as frustrating for me as it must be for anybody trying to communicate with me. It is usually a symptom of stress, of emotional overload, so the worst way to react is in any fashion that increases my stress - becoming emotional, speaking louder or more insistently, coming too close and encroaching on my personal space. If you must try to interact with me at least speak quietly, unemotionally and without approaching too closely or making sudden movements.
Any hint of threat, whether it is a raised voice or unexpected proximity, only makes me feel more anxious and ensures that the episode will last longer. If I do manage to force some words out then don't assume I've come out of it - this can be a delicate moment as I start to regain some control and pushing me - giving me the third degree - will only send me deep back down into my uncommunicative state.
Above all, don't take my lack of responsiveness as a sign of indifference, ignorance or antipathy towards you: it is not. It is simply that my faculties are fully occupied dealing with my own mental turmoil and there is no spare capacity to handle interacting with people. I don't enjoy being non-verbal: because of the continual commotion inside my head it is mentally exhausting, and the muscular tension that results also causes physical tiredness. It is absolutely draining and leaves me in need of peace and quiet to relax. The fact that I might have been sat there, hardly moving or uttering a word, for hours does mean that I am ready to jump back into "normal" activities from the get go. Without some down time to recuperate it is very likely that even a small trigger will push me back over the edge.
Recognition of the causes and effects involved coupled with a little understanding makes it quicker and easier for me to work through the effects of the stress overload, and that has to be a good thing all round, doesn't it?
Showing posts with label Symptoms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Symptoms. Show all posts
Friday, 30 November 2012
Wednesday, 8 February 2012
Filling in the Blanks
"Yeah, mumble mumble last night mumble mumble meal mumble Friday?" Oops. You just asked me something. What did you just say? Well, based on what you were talking about before - the bits I managed to catch - I guess you just asked me if I want to go out for a meal Friday. I'd better see if I'm correct - ask a hopefully relevant question and see what you say: "A meal this Friday? Where?"
At this point I either come across as "normal", following the conversation, or I just dropped a spanner in the works and confused the heck out of you. And I never know which it's going to be! The problem is that if there's any distraction - background noise or movement in particular - then I fail to distinguish the speaker's voice. I know they're talking to me, I can see their lips moving and hear sounds, but even concentrating intently I can only interpret the odd word and have to guess the rest from context.
More often than I care to admit somebody will say something to me and I'll respond with some acknowledgement. It's several seconds later that I finally work out what they said and can tell whether my response was appropriate. Or whether I just looked stupid again.
See if you can work out the meaning of this short extract. To make things easier I've left in most of the nouns:
The thing is, I don't have hearing problems. I can pick up faint sounds like the clock ticking at home. I score in the average range in hearing tests. But if somebody says something while the TV is on - or there's music playing or other conversations going on around us - then although I can hear all the sounds, I can't separate them very well. It's a problem with processing the sensory input and I find it hard work and very frustrating, so I often keep out of conversations in noisy environments. In fact I prefer to avoid noisy social environments altogether.
With all this it's no surprise I prefer to communicate in writing - through email, text or similar mechanisms. The words are in front of me, not obscured by noise, and there is no need for an immediate response. I can take the time to compose my reply, re-reading their comment if necessary and thinking of le mot juste - the right word that will exactly convey my intended meaning.
At this point I either come across as "normal", following the conversation, or I just dropped a spanner in the works and confused the heck out of you. And I never know which it's going to be! The problem is that if there's any distraction - background noise or movement in particular - then I fail to distinguish the speaker's voice. I know they're talking to me, I can see their lips moving and hear sounds, but even concentrating intently I can only interpret the odd word and have to guess the rest from context.
More often than I care to admit somebody will say something to me and I'll respond with some acknowledgement. It's several seconds later that I finally work out what they said and can tell whether my response was appropriate. Or whether I just looked stupid again.
See if you can work out the meaning of this short extract. To make things easier I've left in most of the nouns:
__________ impairment ___ social _________ stereotyped and restricted patterns ______ activities and interests, and _____ally signi_____lay in cog______opment or general _____ language.This is from a description of Aspergers Syndrome that I've quoted previously. I admit I've been selective in the bits I blanked out, but this is only for the purpose of illustration. In a real situation there would be snatches of other conversations interleaved with this one, and the whole would be obscured by background noise:
The thing is, I don't have hearing problems. I can pick up faint sounds like the clock ticking at home. I score in the average range in hearing tests. But if somebody says something while the TV is on - or there's music playing or other conversations going on around us - then although I can hear all the sounds, I can't separate them very well. It's a problem with processing the sensory input and I find it hard work and very frustrating, so I often keep out of conversations in noisy environments. In fact I prefer to avoid noisy social environments altogether.
With all this it's no surprise I prefer to communicate in writing - through email, text or similar mechanisms. The words are in front of me, not obscured by noise, and there is no need for an immediate response. I can take the time to compose my reply, re-reading their comment if necessary and thinking of le mot juste - the right word that will exactly convey my intended meaning.
Thursday, 2 February 2012
A Bit Aspie
I suppose, people being people, that other Aspies have tried to explain how the condition affects their functioning in some way, such as difficulty reading non-verbal signals, only to hear, "I, like, get that too, you know: maybe I'm a bit Aspergers." Even after ignoring the involuntary wince that is triggered whenever language is tortured in my presence, I struggle to respond to that. While I don't want to dismiss out of hand the possibility that they might be correct, it can be hard to explain how AS (and autism) are about more than being awkward in social situations.
What I want to say to these people - but can't because my AS makes it too difficult to formulate an adequate response without zoning out for too long and dropping out of the conversation - is that I doubt very much whether they do have AS. AS is not like a salad bar where you get to choose how much of each symptom you want. It's not something I chose to have - I have it, live with it and cope with the challenges as best I can. Each symptom taken in isolation does not define the condition: it is called a pervasive disorder for a reason. It is a set of symptoms, usually with varying degrees of severity, and having AS means you pretty much got the lot.
What is "the lot"? To quote the Wikipedia article which summarizes the DSM-IV diagnostic criteria,
I doubt that any sighted person would describe themselves as "a bit blind" because they close their eyes occasionally. Likewise, they are not "a bit Aspie" because they sometimes feel awkward in social situations or have a fanatical interest in, say, football. There is evidence that the Aspie label is somehow becoming seen as "cool" - I can't understand why this should be so, because I know first-hand that the reality is that even in a mild form it causes significant difficulties for those directly affected, and also indirectly for those such as partners in relationships.
What I want to say to these people - but can't because my AS makes it too difficult to formulate an adequate response without zoning out for too long and dropping out of the conversation - is that I doubt very much whether they do have AS. AS is not like a salad bar where you get to choose how much of each symptom you want. It's not something I chose to have - I have it, live with it and cope with the challenges as best I can. Each symptom taken in isolation does not define the condition: it is called a pervasive disorder for a reason. It is a set of symptoms, usually with varying degrees of severity, and having AS means you pretty much got the lot.
What is "the lot"? To quote the Wikipedia article which summarizes the DSM-IV diagnostic criteria,
[...] a pattern of symptoms rather than a single symptom. It is characterized by impairment in social interaction, by stereotyped and restricted patterns of behavior, activities and interests, and by no clinically significant delay in cognitive development or general delay in language.This doesn't even attempt to explain why these symptoms occur: it is just a "pattern" that recurs and has been labelled as Asperger Syndrome. The label is a convenience, nothing more, to cover the effects of particular cognitive differences. It does not describe the differences between individuals with AS, the varying degrees of difficulty we face in everyday situations. Couched in the most general terms it says nothing about how it feels from the inside - how exhausting it is to deal with "normal" life, to feel so often that we have to consciously act "normal" with other people so that we are not seen as alien, to face censure for "inappropriate" behavior when we don't conform to their "normal" standards.
I doubt that any sighted person would describe themselves as "a bit blind" because they close their eyes occasionally. Likewise, they are not "a bit Aspie" because they sometimes feel awkward in social situations or have a fanatical interest in, say, football. There is evidence that the Aspie label is somehow becoming seen as "cool" - I can't understand why this should be so, because I know first-hand that the reality is that even in a mild form it causes significant difficulties for those directly affected, and also indirectly for those such as partners in relationships.
Wednesday, 18 January 2012
Saying No
Saying "No" doesn't come naturally to me. Whenever people come up to me and ask me to help them in some way my instinctive response is to go along with whatever they want. I actually feel anxious even thinking about refusing their requests - I worry that refusing will lead to argument or confrontation.
So I end up doing things for others - not that I mind most of the time - but it takes time and energy that I ought to be spending doing other things. It can be a problem for me at work when I get people coming up to me or phoning me to ask for technical assistance when I am in the middle of some other piece of work: I end up taking longer to complete my tasks because I'm spending time on unrelated issues. I even raised it as a problem at my recent annual performance review.
One of the biggest problems with interruptions at work is that it can take me out of a flow state which then means I spend fifteen minutes or so trying to get back into it. Just four interruptions over the course of a day can lose me about an hour of productive working time.
I guess that invariably saying "Yes" to people actually makes things worse for me because it encourages them to ask for favors more often. In contrast I very rarely ask anybody to do things for me - I feel uncomfortable imposing on them.
I need to learn how to say "No" without causing myself stress as I fret about the possible consequences. Experience tells me that a simple, blank refusal doesn't work in most instances - particularly in a social situation. The person will just repeat the request, often with some attempt at emotional coercion - a deliberate attempt to engage my sympathy. And it works - I then feel that I would be letting them down by continuing to turn them down, which upsets me. It could be labelled emotional blackmail. I consider it a particularly devious, underhand means to get one's own way, but it seems to be a depressingly common tactic.
Some people have suggested that I invent some prior commitment that would preclude my assistance at that time; however that would mean lying which makes me even more uncomfortable so it's not a viable option. If only people would take a simple "No" as an answer and drop the matter there and then instead of arguing about it and trying to change my mind. I really need to find some stress-free way to refuse, because otherwise I will just continue to take the (for me) easy way out and assent to their wishes.
So I end up doing things for others - not that I mind most of the time - but it takes time and energy that I ought to be spending doing other things. It can be a problem for me at work when I get people coming up to me or phoning me to ask for technical assistance when I am in the middle of some other piece of work: I end up taking longer to complete my tasks because I'm spending time on unrelated issues. I even raised it as a problem at my recent annual performance review.
One of the biggest problems with interruptions at work is that it can take me out of a flow state which then means I spend fifteen minutes or so trying to get back into it. Just four interruptions over the course of a day can lose me about an hour of productive working time.
I guess that invariably saying "Yes" to people actually makes things worse for me because it encourages them to ask for favors more often. In contrast I very rarely ask anybody to do things for me - I feel uncomfortable imposing on them.
I need to learn how to say "No" without causing myself stress as I fret about the possible consequences. Experience tells me that a simple, blank refusal doesn't work in most instances - particularly in a social situation. The person will just repeat the request, often with some attempt at emotional coercion - a deliberate attempt to engage my sympathy. And it works - I then feel that I would be letting them down by continuing to turn them down, which upsets me. It could be labelled emotional blackmail. I consider it a particularly devious, underhand means to get one's own way, but it seems to be a depressingly common tactic.
Some people have suggested that I invent some prior commitment that would preclude my assistance at that time; however that would mean lying which makes me even more uncomfortable so it's not a viable option. If only people would take a simple "No" as an answer and drop the matter there and then instead of arguing about it and trying to change my mind. I really need to find some stress-free way to refuse, because otherwise I will just continue to take the (for me) easy way out and assent to their wishes.
Friday, 6 January 2012
Correcting People's Mistakes
I have an involuntary urge to jump in and correct people when I notice errors in what they say. It hasn't escaped my notice that this often irritates the person I correct, but I have a hard time checking the impulse.
I'm not sure whether the cause of this is pedantry, perfectionism or simply attention to detail. Too much attention to detail sometimes because I end up getting distracted from the conversation by concentrating on the mistake. Interrupting the speaker to correct them also tends to distract them from what they were saying, halting the conversation.
Thing is... I'm trying to be helpful when I correct people. Accuracy is important to me - more important than saving somebody's feelings - and I subconsciously expect that other people feel the same and would appreciate my efforts. Publicly correcting people can engender a hostile response - it embarrasses them, triggering a defensive reaction. In conjunction with my social anxiety, fear of this kind of response prevents me from speaking up in front of strangers. But it doesn't prevent me feeling very uncomfortable about the error.
It's the same with errors in writing - things like shop signs that might have spelling or grammatical mistakes. I have been known to take a pen and make editorial corrections to notices - the urge to do so can be impossible to suppress.
I find that people mistake my motivation - while I only strive for accuracy, they see me as a know-all who wants appear superior. They may even see me as arrogant. For the record, I'm not trying to impress people with my knowledge or make them appear ignorant and stupid. I just have an obsession for precision in language.
I'm not sure whether the cause of this is pedantry, perfectionism or simply attention to detail. Too much attention to detail sometimes because I end up getting distracted from the conversation by concentrating on the mistake. Interrupting the speaker to correct them also tends to distract them from what they were saying, halting the conversation.
Thing is... I'm trying to be helpful when I correct people. Accuracy is important to me - more important than saving somebody's feelings - and I subconsciously expect that other people feel the same and would appreciate my efforts. Publicly correcting people can engender a hostile response - it embarrasses them, triggering a defensive reaction. In conjunction with my social anxiety, fear of this kind of response prevents me from speaking up in front of strangers. But it doesn't prevent me feeling very uncomfortable about the error.
It's the same with errors in writing - things like shop signs that might have spelling or grammatical mistakes. I have been known to take a pen and make editorial corrections to notices - the urge to do so can be impossible to suppress.
I find that people mistake my motivation - while I only strive for accuracy, they see me as a know-all who wants appear superior. They may even see me as arrogant. For the record, I'm not trying to impress people with my knowledge or make them appear ignorant and stupid. I just have an obsession for precision in language.
Wednesday, 21 December 2011
Parallel Existence
In your world the light is cheerful,
In my world the light is painful,
Sounds caress: a background murmur.
Sounds assault: a foreground clamor.
A crowd of friends; you rush to join them,
A crowd of friends; I can't avoid them,
Slip into the conversation.
How to join the conversation?
You read the tone and body language,
Non-verbal cues: a foreign language,
Instinct means no mental load.
Too much input: overload.
You do these things without a thought,
I try to cope, my efforts fraught,
The world and you: a perfect fit.
The world and me: it won't remit.
In my world the light is painful,
Sounds caress: a background murmur.
Sounds assault: a foreground clamor.
A crowd of friends; you rush to join them,
A crowd of friends; I can't avoid them,
Slip into the conversation.
How to join the conversation?
You read the tone and body language,
Non-verbal cues: a foreign language,
Instinct means no mental load.
Too much input: overload.
You do these things without a thought,
I try to cope, my efforts fraught,
The world and you: a perfect fit.
The world and me: it won't remit.
Wednesday, 26 October 2011
Inside A Torture Chamber
I spent for too long at the hospital yesterday accompanying my wife as she went through a series of tests and scans. The X-Ray/Ultrasound department has recently moved to a refurbished suite and it's all new and shiny.
Too shiny. The lighting makes its white walls harshly bright. It's all straight lines and square corners with no relieving softness. I know hospitals are clinical - obviously - but do they really have to look so cold and unfriendly? I was feeling on edge when we got to the department reception desk. Luckily my wife dealt with the receptionist - with the bright lights, echoing footsteps and other voices all claiming my attention I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying at all. We got directed to a small waiting area off one of the corridors - an alcove with a row of six chairs on each side, facing each other. About half the chairs were occupied; I took one at the end away from the corridor with my wife sitting next to me.
I feel uncomfortable in waiting rooms at the best of times; I get very anxious when people are sat looking at me. And I don't like to feel I'm being overheard when I talk to somebody, so I was inhibited from speaking with my wife. I ended up just sitting there, stimming in a fairly subtle manner by tapping one thumb on the other with my hands together, fingers intertwined - trying to keep reasonably calm. However the pressure of having other people facing me in such a small space was making me increasingly anxious. (I have similar problems using public transport - that's why I will walk miles rather than catch a bus.)
So there I am in this small waiting area with too many strangers looking at me, the harsh light making me feel even more exposed and uncomfortable. I can feel I'm getting close to a sensory overload. And then somebody goes through the door in the corridor just outside this alcove. How to describe the noise made by that door? If you've seen those old horror films where the castle door slowly closes to the accompaniment of a tortured squeal from its stiff, rusted hinges you'll know exactly what this door sounded like. That did overload me. I had to shut my eyes every time that door opened or closed because it was as if somebody was shining a spotlight into them. It hurt. I was starting to ache from the tension across my shoulders and up my neck.
I thought to myself that they couldn't have designed a more effective environment to torture somebody with sensory processing issues if they had tried. I just felt like curling up in a corner and shutting down but I had to keep myself going to keep my wife company. By the time we got out of there I was tense and exhausted and just wanted to rest. It took a massive effort to avoid shutting down and left me drained. I'm not sure how much support I gave to my wife but at least I was there and mostly responsive. I find it hard to believe that a hospital could get its design so wrong in terms of providing spaces for people that are comfortable and promote a calm state of mind.
Too shiny. The lighting makes its white walls harshly bright. It's all straight lines and square corners with no relieving softness. I know hospitals are clinical - obviously - but do they really have to look so cold and unfriendly? I was feeling on edge when we got to the department reception desk. Luckily my wife dealt with the receptionist - with the bright lights, echoing footsteps and other voices all claiming my attention I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying at all. We got directed to a small waiting area off one of the corridors - an alcove with a row of six chairs on each side, facing each other. About half the chairs were occupied; I took one at the end away from the corridor with my wife sitting next to me.
I feel uncomfortable in waiting rooms at the best of times; I get very anxious when people are sat looking at me. And I don't like to feel I'm being overheard when I talk to somebody, so I was inhibited from speaking with my wife. I ended up just sitting there, stimming in a fairly subtle manner by tapping one thumb on the other with my hands together, fingers intertwined - trying to keep reasonably calm. However the pressure of having other people facing me in such a small space was making me increasingly anxious. (I have similar problems using public transport - that's why I will walk miles rather than catch a bus.)
So there I am in this small waiting area with too many strangers looking at me, the harsh light making me feel even more exposed and uncomfortable. I can feel I'm getting close to a sensory overload. And then somebody goes through the door in the corridor just outside this alcove. How to describe the noise made by that door? If you've seen those old horror films where the castle door slowly closes to the accompaniment of a tortured squeal from its stiff, rusted hinges you'll know exactly what this door sounded like. That did overload me. I had to shut my eyes every time that door opened or closed because it was as if somebody was shining a spotlight into them. It hurt. I was starting to ache from the tension across my shoulders and up my neck.
I thought to myself that they couldn't have designed a more effective environment to torture somebody with sensory processing issues if they had tried. I just felt like curling up in a corner and shutting down but I had to keep myself going to keep my wife company. By the time we got out of there I was tense and exhausted and just wanted to rest. It took a massive effort to avoid shutting down and left me drained. I'm not sure how much support I gave to my wife but at least I was there and mostly responsive. I find it hard to believe that a hospital could get its design so wrong in terms of providing spaces for people that are comfortable and promote a calm state of mind.
Sunday, 16 October 2011
Different Roles
It's strange, but my behaviour changes depending on what I'm doing. I reluctantly went to the usual pub quiz last Tuesday night without my wife, who wasn't well enough. This is the same pub I work in at weekends. When I'm behind the bar, being a barman, I have the confidence to speak to people. Because of the context of the job I can interact with complete strangers. So why do I feel so darned uncomfortable when I'm on my own in front of the bar?
I got there a good hour before the quiz started and the place wasn't yet busy. I probably knew almost everyone in the there. But I didn't feel at ease joining anybody's group. I did hover at the edge of one group for a while but ended up sat on my own at the usual table reading the news on my phone. Even when the other members of the team arrived I felt isolated. It's not that I wasn't included; it's just that I always put myself under pressure because I feel that I should be active in conversation. If it hadn't been for numerous people asking after my wife's health I don't think I'd have said very much all night.
So why does it feel so different among the same people in the same environment depending on whether I'm a customer or a barman? I don't really know. I do know that I hate to take a break while I'm working because for half an hour I'm out of barman mode and basically just a normal customer. I usually come back early from my break and hope I won't get sent back out again. I guess it sounds weird but that's me!
Even when I'm on my own behind the bar with a pub full of customers I hardly ever feel intimidated - I feel safe. Is it the solid counter between me and them? I don't think so. I suspect it's because the interactions are constrained and I understand the boundaries - I know what to expect from the customers because they just want to be served. When I'm in there as just me - no role to assume - there are no such boundaries.
I realise now that I can handle much more socially if I am fulfilling a role than if I'm just being myself - exposed, unprotected. In a way these roles are like masks that I can hide behind.
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
A Change of Plans Causes Issues
I don't know about anybody else but I have a big problem when events fail to turn out the way I expect. It's one reason I try not to plan what I'm going to do in advance. Take what happened yesterday for example - I knew there was mince in the fridge that needed using along with tomatoes, mushrooms, onions and carrots. So I thought, "Pasta sauce!"
And then I got home and my wife had somehow managed to cook me a chilli despite her feeling so ill. Did I react with gratitude? I'm sorry to say I didn't. I was knocked off-balance because some of the ingredients I had been going to use for my pasta sauce had been used instead to make this chilli. I managed not to get angry or melt down - took some self-control - but I did complain. I knew my reaction was upsetting my wife but I couldn't stop myself. I tried to explain that it was the fact that my plan had been scuppered that had stressed me but the damage had been done.
I must say that I ate the chilli and enjoyed it very much. But. It. Wasn't. Pasta. Sauce! How do you explain this kind of feeling to somebody who can handle change? That despite appreciating the effort she had gone to, I was unable to get past this clash - this discrepancy with my mental image of myself cooking a different dish. It's my normal reaction to change - I try not to respond in this way because it hurts or offends people I care about but it causes me stress and I find it very difficult to hide. That would be the same as lying which I also find very difficult, even to save people's feelings.
In this case I got over the worst of the feeling quite quickly and apologised - this kind of thing has happened numerous times before so my long-suffering wife is sadly used to it by now - but I've still got a little lingering disquiet that things didn't happen as I expected. And I feel bad about not showing my gratitude from the outset. I know it's a shabby way to treat somebody who's made an effort to do something for me but I really don't know how to get past the intense disappointment and stress I feel in these situations - the feeling is so intense that it swamps any other, more rational, thoughts I may have.
And then I got home and my wife had somehow managed to cook me a chilli despite her feeling so ill. Did I react with gratitude? I'm sorry to say I didn't. I was knocked off-balance because some of the ingredients I had been going to use for my pasta sauce had been used instead to make this chilli. I managed not to get angry or melt down - took some self-control - but I did complain. I knew my reaction was upsetting my wife but I couldn't stop myself. I tried to explain that it was the fact that my plan had been scuppered that had stressed me but the damage had been done.
I must say that I ate the chilli and enjoyed it very much. But. It. Wasn't. Pasta. Sauce! How do you explain this kind of feeling to somebody who can handle change? That despite appreciating the effort she had gone to, I was unable to get past this clash - this discrepancy with my mental image of myself cooking a different dish. It's my normal reaction to change - I try not to respond in this way because it hurts or offends people I care about but it causes me stress and I find it very difficult to hide. That would be the same as lying which I also find very difficult, even to save people's feelings.
In this case I got over the worst of the feeling quite quickly and apologised - this kind of thing has happened numerous times before so my long-suffering wife is sadly used to it by now - but I've still got a little lingering disquiet that things didn't happen as I expected. And I feel bad about not showing my gratitude from the outset. I know it's a shabby way to treat somebody who's made an effort to do something for me but I really don't know how to get past the intense disappointment and stress I feel in these situations - the feeling is so intense that it swamps any other, more rational, thoughts I may have.
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
Creating New Routines
Why isn't there some standard schedule of household chores? My wife is going to be laid up for some time after a recent operation so I'm taking on as much of the cooking, cleaning and general housework as I can find the time to do alongside work and looking after her. Or trying to...
The trouble is that housework is not one of my usual routines so I have trouble remembering what needs doing. Also, unlike my wife, I can only focus on one task at a time - for example, I can't leave the washing to do some dusting because I'll forget that the washing was in progress. I need to build these tasks into a routine so that I can perform them automatically, without needing to consciously supervise myself throughout.
This got me thinking - what are the obstacles that make doing these things more difficult for me than, say, developing software? Right up there has to be my memory problems. I can recall technical information relating to my job without any issues, navigating through millions of lines of code as easily as finding my way to the local shops. But I have lost count of the number of times I have poured the water into a cup of tea, left the room while it steeps and completely forgotten about it until my wife asks where it's got to. I've also been known to go into another room to fetch some item only to have forgotten what it was by the time I get there. It's the same with any non-routine task - if I step away from it to do something else, more often than not I will forget what I was doing. It seems to be only my short-term memory that is affected in this way.
So how can I create new routines so that I get these tasks done efficiently? My first thought was to create a full schedule, but I realised that this would require more detailed information regarding task durations and frequency of repetition than I possess, and would be too inflexible because of ad-hoc demands on my time. So then I thought about just making a checklist of tasks that need to be completed, perhaps with deadlines where appropriate. I think that's the method I'll try first - I need a way to organize myself and to-do lists generally work for me. I use them at work - along with decomposing tasks into manageable chunks. This is a common technique, breaking a large task down into smaller sub-tasks, that I use at work, first to estimate how long a particular software development project will take and then to structure my approach to the task. It also helps a lot when faced with a huge job that daunts by its very size and complexity. Breaking it up into small pieces allows me to focus on each individually and keeps me from trying to fit too much detail into my mind at any one time.
Once I've run through the sequence of jobs a few times I believe I'll get used to the pattern and - as if by magic - a new routine will exist. Sounds simple, but I'm sure there'll be some difficulties - I've got a feeling that some of these household jobs are ones that get done as and when they are needed rather than according to a fixed schedule like "mop the kitchen floor at 7pm on Tuesday evening". I wish I knew how my wife coped with it all - it just seems so complicated and time-consuming to me. I'm amazed that she could manage it all without any written plan.
The trouble is that housework is not one of my usual routines so I have trouble remembering what needs doing. Also, unlike my wife, I can only focus on one task at a time - for example, I can't leave the washing to do some dusting because I'll forget that the washing was in progress. I need to build these tasks into a routine so that I can perform them automatically, without needing to consciously supervise myself throughout.
This got me thinking - what are the obstacles that make doing these things more difficult for me than, say, developing software? Right up there has to be my memory problems. I can recall technical information relating to my job without any issues, navigating through millions of lines of code as easily as finding my way to the local shops. But I have lost count of the number of times I have poured the water into a cup of tea, left the room while it steeps and completely forgotten about it until my wife asks where it's got to. I've also been known to go into another room to fetch some item only to have forgotten what it was by the time I get there. It's the same with any non-routine task - if I step away from it to do something else, more often than not I will forget what I was doing. It seems to be only my short-term memory that is affected in this way.
So how can I create new routines so that I get these tasks done efficiently? My first thought was to create a full schedule, but I realised that this would require more detailed information regarding task durations and frequency of repetition than I possess, and would be too inflexible because of ad-hoc demands on my time. So then I thought about just making a checklist of tasks that need to be completed, perhaps with deadlines where appropriate. I think that's the method I'll try first - I need a way to organize myself and to-do lists generally work for me. I use them at work - along with decomposing tasks into manageable chunks. This is a common technique, breaking a large task down into smaller sub-tasks, that I use at work, first to estimate how long a particular software development project will take and then to structure my approach to the task. It also helps a lot when faced with a huge job that daunts by its very size and complexity. Breaking it up into small pieces allows me to focus on each individually and keeps me from trying to fit too much detail into my mind at any one time.
Once I've run through the sequence of jobs a few times I believe I'll get used to the pattern and - as if by magic - a new routine will exist. Sounds simple, but I'm sure there'll be some difficulties - I've got a feeling that some of these household jobs are ones that get done as and when they are needed rather than according to a fixed schedule like "mop the kitchen floor at 7pm on Tuesday evening". I wish I knew how my wife coped with it all - it just seems so complicated and time-consuming to me. I'm amazed that she could manage it all without any written plan.
Monday, 3 October 2011
Tired But Happy
This weekend exhausted me but - for a pleasant change - not because of emotional problems. It was down to working (and playing) hard. I worked the bar Friday night during a 21st birthday party - it was a sensory maelstrom with loud music, flashing coloured disco lights and plenty of people shouting. I handle it by focusing on serving the customers, getting into the rhythm of taking orders, pouring drinks and working the till. It's so familiar and I enjoy it so after about ten minutes I just flow. I can block out everything else pretty successfully - so much so that I don't even notice much of what's going on more than a few feet beyond the counter - and I lose most sense of the passage of time.
However at one point it got really loud - several people whistling - and I overloaded for a brief time. I have little idea how long it was - nobody else appeared to notice. I just stood there with my back to the room, holding on to the back bar counter to keep myself upright, with two half-poured vodkas in front of me. I couldn't think - the noise had suddenly become painful as it breached the mental blocks on my senses and flooded in. All I was aware of was this glaring, intense, piercing whistle - everything else ceased to exist as my other senses were drowned out.
The whistling stopped and it was like waking up - that short period while my brain orients itself before I remember where I am and what I'm doing. Somehow I remembered the order I was in the middle of pouring, and - slightly unsteadily at first - carried on. It took a couple of minutes to get myself together before I was back to business as usual.
Saturday morning I had to go shopping. It wasn't a long list I had to pick up but I needed to visit several shops to get everything. I hate having to shop on a Saturday morning - it's so busy and people get in my way, encroaching on my personal space. It started fine. I got parked where I wanted and even had enough change for the car park ticket machine - a definite result because I usually forget to check I've got enough before leaving home. There weren't many people around yet so I was feeling reasonably comfortable. And then I got into the mall and there was music playing too loudly - it was distracting and put me off balance a bit and I thought about fetching my earphones from the car but decided to persevere.
My first destination was a department store to look for a shirt. To get to the menswear department I had to get through the perfume department. I don't know why but nearly every department store I've every been into puts the perfume department just inside the front doors so you have no choice but to endure the overwhelming smells and eye irritation from all the solvents in the air to get to any other part of the store. It turned out they didn't have what I was looking for after all: I'm very particular about my shirts - the material has to feel right, the colour has to be right (usually black) and the arrangement of buttons and pockets has to be right. Ideally I would be able to pick up exact replicas of the shirts I already have but it doesn't work that way. They change things. So I ran the gauntlet of the perfume department again to get out of there and went on to the next store. That one was thankfully simple - straight to the single item I was after, on to the checkout and out of there. Then back to the car, enduring the intrusive mall music on the way, and on to phase two: the supermarket.
Up to now I'd managed to avoid the crowds - it must have been because they were already at the supermarket, waiting for me to arrive so they could block the aisles and bump into me and run over my feet with their trolleys. In the midst of all this I ran into the first obstacle: my wife had put "nail varnish and lipstick amethyst" on the list. Now I'm not very familiar with these kinds of products but I did know which area of the store would have them. So I headed there and there were about six different brands, each with at least two or three different kinds of lip and nail colouring stuff. I examined them all and not one had the word amethyst on it! Any number of different, almost-descriptive colour names but not what my wife had written on the list. I was getting stressed so I decided to phone home and ask for clarification. Then I discover there's no phone signal in that part of the store. Aargh!
I moved around until I got a signal and made the call. On my third attempt it didn't drop out and I asked my wife what colour she meant by amethyst - she said "purple". I asked was it a blue or red purple and she seemed confused - I explained that purple is a mix of red and blue with some being more blue than red and vice versa. I think I managed to make myself understood, but she said any shade of purple would do. (So why write amethyst then? I wondered.) So that was sorted. I went back to the shelves of cosmetics and looked for something that was unambiguously purple-ish. I found a nail varnish and then just had to locate a matching lipstick. Because naturally they would have matching colours, wouldn't they? Hah! That would be far too easy. So I just picked up something that purported to be a kind of purple lipstick and high-tailed it out of that section of the store to go look for the next thing on the list.
What I haven't mentioned yet is that they are reorganizing the layout of that store. Even the staff are not sure where to find some products. What hope have I with my out-of-date mental map? It took me about an hour to pick up eight or ten items and by the end of it I was about ready to throw a tantrum right in the middle of the place - like most of the children in there appeared to be doing. That's one thing I struggle to understand - why do people persist in dragging their children round busy shops when they clearly get bored by it, hate the experience and don't want to be there? I can completely understand a child finding it all too much and having a screaming fit because they have no other way to communicate their frustration. I don't like to hear children crying and screaming - I find the sound unsettling and uncomfortable, even painful to hear.
I managed to get hold of every one of the dozen or so items on the list and was back home about two and a half hours after leaving - it was about a six mile round-trip. Boy was I worn out! But there's no rest for the wicked - not even the very wicked - and I had to get changed, ready to go out to a wedding. Which meant I couldn't wear my usual comfortable clothes. Suit and tie. In temperatures above 80 degrees, and humid with it. Unusual weather for this time of year in southern England. I've never enjoyed hot weather - I feel too hot and sweaty and my clothes cling to me in a most uncomfortable, irritating way. But I wasn't about to let anybody down - it was somebody else's big day and I was determined to show my support, relax and enjoy myself. And I did.
It was rather warm inside the reception venue - the local pub - even with the doors wide open but I just popped outside for a bit of fresh air every now and then to cool off. And to get a bit of a break from the disco lights, loud music and too much movement from people dancing close in front of me. I struggled a few times with the levels of sensory stimulation but got through it. And I did enjoy myself - it was a good night and the atmosphere was relaxed and friendly - although it was very tiring coping with the heat, noise, lights and people.
As a result I was kind of hoping for a quiet Sunday afternoon shift at the pub. I turned up a little early in case there was any setting up to do. Just as well as it turned out - even though a group of volunteers were helping, the place wasn't nearly ship-shape by opening time. It was a moderately busy shift as well, with two soccer matches on the TV that brought a number of customers in. But I like it like that - as I said before I find my rhythm and it just flows. (I still dislike the food - table-waiting - side of the job because it disrupts that flow, but that's only a small part of the whole.) I didn't notice I was getting a bit dehydrated - I forgot to make sure I had a drink of water every now and again. Sometimes I'm not that good at taking care of myself! I think I surprised the boss a bit when I readily agreed to take a break the first time I was asked and grabbed a glass of water - I'm normally reluctant to take a break because I find it a distraction but that afternoon I was feeling drained and needed a short break.
I was pretty exhausted by the end of the shift - we seemed to go through an inordinate number of glasses given the moderate level of trade, and I'd also moved a number of barrels around the cellar. The 22 Imperial gallon kegs aren't light when full - they weigh more than I do - but there's a technique to moving them so you don't have to lift the whole weight. In a way I was happy to finish the shift. I enjoyed it but I was so worn out and drained by the end. It had been a long, physically- and mentally-demanding but ultimately very satisfying weekend and I was very glad when I got home to retire to bed for a well-earned rest. Recharge the batteries ready for Monday morning and the return to my main "paid hobby", software development.
However at one point it got really loud - several people whistling - and I overloaded for a brief time. I have little idea how long it was - nobody else appeared to notice. I just stood there with my back to the room, holding on to the back bar counter to keep myself upright, with two half-poured vodkas in front of me. I couldn't think - the noise had suddenly become painful as it breached the mental blocks on my senses and flooded in. All I was aware of was this glaring, intense, piercing whistle - everything else ceased to exist as my other senses were drowned out.
The whistling stopped and it was like waking up - that short period while my brain orients itself before I remember where I am and what I'm doing. Somehow I remembered the order I was in the middle of pouring, and - slightly unsteadily at first - carried on. It took a couple of minutes to get myself together before I was back to business as usual.
Saturday morning I had to go shopping. It wasn't a long list I had to pick up but I needed to visit several shops to get everything. I hate having to shop on a Saturday morning - it's so busy and people get in my way, encroaching on my personal space. It started fine. I got parked where I wanted and even had enough change for the car park ticket machine - a definite result because I usually forget to check I've got enough before leaving home. There weren't many people around yet so I was feeling reasonably comfortable. And then I got into the mall and there was music playing too loudly - it was distracting and put me off balance a bit and I thought about fetching my earphones from the car but decided to persevere.
My first destination was a department store to look for a shirt. To get to the menswear department I had to get through the perfume department. I don't know why but nearly every department store I've every been into puts the perfume department just inside the front doors so you have no choice but to endure the overwhelming smells and eye irritation from all the solvents in the air to get to any other part of the store. It turned out they didn't have what I was looking for after all: I'm very particular about my shirts - the material has to feel right, the colour has to be right (usually black) and the arrangement of buttons and pockets has to be right. Ideally I would be able to pick up exact replicas of the shirts I already have but it doesn't work that way. They change things. So I ran the gauntlet of the perfume department again to get out of there and went on to the next store. That one was thankfully simple - straight to the single item I was after, on to the checkout and out of there. Then back to the car, enduring the intrusive mall music on the way, and on to phase two: the supermarket.
Up to now I'd managed to avoid the crowds - it must have been because they were already at the supermarket, waiting for me to arrive so they could block the aisles and bump into me and run over my feet with their trolleys. In the midst of all this I ran into the first obstacle: my wife had put "nail varnish and lipstick amethyst" on the list. Now I'm not very familiar with these kinds of products but I did know which area of the store would have them. So I headed there and there were about six different brands, each with at least two or three different kinds of lip and nail colouring stuff. I examined them all and not one had the word amethyst on it! Any number of different, almost-descriptive colour names but not what my wife had written on the list. I was getting stressed so I decided to phone home and ask for clarification. Then I discover there's no phone signal in that part of the store. Aargh!
I moved around until I got a signal and made the call. On my third attempt it didn't drop out and I asked my wife what colour she meant by amethyst - she said "purple". I asked was it a blue or red purple and she seemed confused - I explained that purple is a mix of red and blue with some being more blue than red and vice versa. I think I managed to make myself understood, but she said any shade of purple would do. (So why write amethyst then? I wondered.) So that was sorted. I went back to the shelves of cosmetics and looked for something that was unambiguously purple-ish. I found a nail varnish and then just had to locate a matching lipstick. Because naturally they would have matching colours, wouldn't they? Hah! That would be far too easy. So I just picked up something that purported to be a kind of purple lipstick and high-tailed it out of that section of the store to go look for the next thing on the list.
What I haven't mentioned yet is that they are reorganizing the layout of that store. Even the staff are not sure where to find some products. What hope have I with my out-of-date mental map? It took me about an hour to pick up eight or ten items and by the end of it I was about ready to throw a tantrum right in the middle of the place - like most of the children in there appeared to be doing. That's one thing I struggle to understand - why do people persist in dragging their children round busy shops when they clearly get bored by it, hate the experience and don't want to be there? I can completely understand a child finding it all too much and having a screaming fit because they have no other way to communicate their frustration. I don't like to hear children crying and screaming - I find the sound unsettling and uncomfortable, even painful to hear.
I managed to get hold of every one of the dozen or so items on the list and was back home about two and a half hours after leaving - it was about a six mile round-trip. Boy was I worn out! But there's no rest for the wicked - not even the very wicked - and I had to get changed, ready to go out to a wedding. Which meant I couldn't wear my usual comfortable clothes. Suit and tie. In temperatures above 80 degrees, and humid with it. Unusual weather for this time of year in southern England. I've never enjoyed hot weather - I feel too hot and sweaty and my clothes cling to me in a most uncomfortable, irritating way. But I wasn't about to let anybody down - it was somebody else's big day and I was determined to show my support, relax and enjoy myself. And I did.
It was rather warm inside the reception venue - the local pub - even with the doors wide open but I just popped outside for a bit of fresh air every now and then to cool off. And to get a bit of a break from the disco lights, loud music and too much movement from people dancing close in front of me. I struggled a few times with the levels of sensory stimulation but got through it. And I did enjoy myself - it was a good night and the atmosphere was relaxed and friendly - although it was very tiring coping with the heat, noise, lights and people.
As a result I was kind of hoping for a quiet Sunday afternoon shift at the pub. I turned up a little early in case there was any setting up to do. Just as well as it turned out - even though a group of volunteers were helping, the place wasn't nearly ship-shape by opening time. It was a moderately busy shift as well, with two soccer matches on the TV that brought a number of customers in. But I like it like that - as I said before I find my rhythm and it just flows. (I still dislike the food - table-waiting - side of the job because it disrupts that flow, but that's only a small part of the whole.) I didn't notice I was getting a bit dehydrated - I forgot to make sure I had a drink of water every now and again. Sometimes I'm not that good at taking care of myself! I think I surprised the boss a bit when I readily agreed to take a break the first time I was asked and grabbed a glass of water - I'm normally reluctant to take a break because I find it a distraction but that afternoon I was feeling drained and needed a short break.
I was pretty exhausted by the end of the shift - we seemed to go through an inordinate number of glasses given the moderate level of trade, and I'd also moved a number of barrels around the cellar. The 22 Imperial gallon kegs aren't light when full - they weigh more than I do - but there's a technique to moving them so you don't have to lift the whole weight. In a way I was happy to finish the shift. I enjoyed it but I was so worn out and drained by the end. It had been a long, physically- and mentally-demanding but ultimately very satisfying weekend and I was very glad when I got home to retire to bed for a well-earned rest. Recharge the batteries ready for Monday morning and the return to my main "paid hobby", software development.
Tuesday, 20 September 2011
An A to Z of Aspergers
A is for alexithymia, without words for emotion.
B is for bullying, to which many autistic people are subjected at some point in their lives.
C is for communication, the spoken word that gives such trouble.
D is for different: wouldn't life be boring if we were all the same?
E is for empathy, which I experience even if it's in a different way to you.
F is for fear, a very common emotion for me.
G is for guts where my butterflies dwell.
H is for human: I am, you are.
I is for interests, "special" of course, that are such a consuming passion.
J is for jam; what happens to my words when I try to speak about how I feel.
K is for kindness: a little goes a long way.
L is for literal: how I interpret what people say.
M is for meltdown, the red mist that can descend in response to overload.
N is for neurotypical, a brain that functions in the average way.
O is for overload, when there's too much going on around for me to handle.
P is for programming, my main special interest.
Q is for quiet, a vastly underrated experience.
R is for respect, to which everybody is entitled.
S is for shutdown, an involuntary state I find myself in from time to time.
T is for therapy: my writing fulfils this function for me.
U is for understanding, which I don't always get.
V is for variation, which you find right across the autistic spectrum.
W is for withdrawal, a need to just get away from it all for a while.
X is for xenophobia, fear of strangers.
Y is for you, reading this and, I can but hope, gaining an insight into my mind.
Z is for zebra, because I got stuck on the last letter and I happen to like the stripy creatures!
Monday, 19 September 2011
Shutdown
I shut down for about three hours on Saturday. I don't know exactly what the triggers were this time - I do know things have been building up and getting on top of me lately. I've been feeling more insecure than usual and I've largely avoided making phone calls and other interaction with strangers. I don't even know what the "final straw" was this time - one minute I was eating my breakfast; ten minutes later I was sitting, hunched over, rocking gently and staring into space.
I am almost completely non-verbal while shut down. I hear what's going on around me but I can't respond - words rush around my head but I can't get them out of my mouth. It's as if there's a paralysis. I can't write either - my fine motor coordination is affected too much for me to form the letters. In that state I feel like an observer in my own body - I'm stuck inside without much control - just along for the ride.
I can't handle much stimulation while shut down - I will actively avoid loud noises, physical contact and bright or flashing lights if I can't block them out. I prefer to be left alone in a quiet, darkened room until I come out of the state naturally. In fact, too much sensory input while I'm shut down can switch me into a meltdown. I avoid eye contact - I just stare blankly ahead or sometimes close my eyes, more so if I know I'm alone because I worry about being touched unexpectedly if somebody approaches me.
The best way to approach me when I'm shut down is to speak slowly and quietly in a soothing tone - the actual words don't matter so much. Don't get too close to me because that makes me uncomfortable, don't shout and don't sound aggressive - any of that will deepen and prolong the shutdown. A hug is usually the only contact I can handle - but if I stiffen up then I'm not receptive at that point in time. In general the best thing to do is be patient and wait for me to come out of it.
Prevention is better than a cure - so the proverb goes. How can a shutdown be prevented? Well, it's a reaction to stress, so prevention is all about reducing or even avoiding stressful stimuli. What I find most stressful are unfamiliar social situations and forms of aggression or confrontation. But a shutdown often isn't an immediate reaction to a particular event. It will be a combination of factors that build up over time - possibly even years - and can be triggered by something seemingly so trivial that I might not even be aware of what it was that pushed me over the edge.
This can be confusing for people around me who may not realise what is happening - that I have shut down - and try to interact with me without any response. I've had people accuse me of being ignorant or sulky - as if I have any control over shutting down and am just choosing not to speak to be awkward. I find that particularly insulting - just because I don't have many obvious outward signs of the shutdown there is an assumption that I'm being deliberately uncommunicative. So let me say it again: I have no control over a shutdown. When it happens I am simply along for the ride, trapped inside until I get a measure of conscious control over my body again. How could anybody really think I'd shutdown if I had a choice? So please have a little patience and respect.
I am almost completely non-verbal while shut down. I hear what's going on around me but I can't respond - words rush around my head but I can't get them out of my mouth. It's as if there's a paralysis. I can't write either - my fine motor coordination is affected too much for me to form the letters. In that state I feel like an observer in my own body - I'm stuck inside without much control - just along for the ride.
I can't handle much stimulation while shut down - I will actively avoid loud noises, physical contact and bright or flashing lights if I can't block them out. I prefer to be left alone in a quiet, darkened room until I come out of the state naturally. In fact, too much sensory input while I'm shut down can switch me into a meltdown. I avoid eye contact - I just stare blankly ahead or sometimes close my eyes, more so if I know I'm alone because I worry about being touched unexpectedly if somebody approaches me.
The best way to approach me when I'm shut down is to speak slowly and quietly in a soothing tone - the actual words don't matter so much. Don't get too close to me because that makes me uncomfortable, don't shout and don't sound aggressive - any of that will deepen and prolong the shutdown. A hug is usually the only contact I can handle - but if I stiffen up then I'm not receptive at that point in time. In general the best thing to do is be patient and wait for me to come out of it.
Prevention is better than a cure - so the proverb goes. How can a shutdown be prevented? Well, it's a reaction to stress, so prevention is all about reducing or even avoiding stressful stimuli. What I find most stressful are unfamiliar social situations and forms of aggression or confrontation. But a shutdown often isn't an immediate reaction to a particular event. It will be a combination of factors that build up over time - possibly even years - and can be triggered by something seemingly so trivial that I might not even be aware of what it was that pushed me over the edge.
This can be confusing for people around me who may not realise what is happening - that I have shut down - and try to interact with me without any response. I've had people accuse me of being ignorant or sulky - as if I have any control over shutting down and am just choosing not to speak to be awkward. I find that particularly insulting - just because I don't have many obvious outward signs of the shutdown there is an assumption that I'm being deliberately uncommunicative. So let me say it again: I have no control over a shutdown. When it happens I am simply along for the ride, trapped inside until I get a measure of conscious control over my body again. How could anybody really think I'd shutdown if I had a choice? So please have a little patience and respect.
Saturday, 17 September 2011
They Sang "Happy Birthday"
They sang "Happy Birthday" after the bell struck midnight. I felt uncomfortable at all the attention - I've always said I don't like a fuss. In a way I'm dreading going out this evening and putting on the happy face so I don't disappoint. Because right now I feel like I need some down time - some time on my own.
I'll do it all the same - put in an appearance. And people will be nice to me and - as far as I can tell - enjoy themselves. But I will feel under pressure to fit in and live up to normal expectations. So I won't quite relax and let my guard down because it will be a little unpredictable. Social occasions are not easy - more so when I'm attracting attention.
I'm sure they mean well and are sincere with their birthday wishes - I can't tell if it's otherwise so I take it all at face value. The truth is that a birthday is just another day to me. I'm happiest if it all procedes according to established routine. No surprises.
In case I'm giving the wrong impression let me state now that I appreciate all the happy returns - they make me feel that people do care about me (did I ever mention I'm insecure?).
Birthday Nerves
I rang the bell at midnight.
The bar was closed,
My shift was done.
How could I know that they might
Start singing out
"Happy birthday"?
I stood there, no time to hide:
Like a rabbit
Caught in headlights
I felt embarrassed inside
But carried on.
What could I do?
Discomfort's normal to me:
I feel awkward
In the spotlight.
One-to-one is best you see:
Interaction
On my own terms.
I hope that they keep in mind
Limitations
Of my syndrome.
Only trying to be kind,
They overload
Me: it's too much.
So come in turn with greetings:
One at a time,
More is excess.
I can cope with such meetings
Without the stress
That groups can cause.
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Between Shutdown And Meltdown
Sometimes I feel like I'm being carried along by the current of a turbulent cataract - now drowning, now gasping for breath as my head broaches the surface - overwhelmed by the relentless surge of my own thoughts and the sights, sounds, smells crashing in on my senses - unable to block any of it out, I am dragged down into a maelstrom of fretful anxiety - frozen and locked into a tense immobility as I fight against myself to regain some measure of conscious control over my body - unable to move as my muscles oppose their own motion, unable to speak as the words log-jam in my throat - caught on the cusp between shutdown and meltdown, trying to restrain myself from exploding into the irrational red mist of berserk rage - too agitated to withdraw into the soft oblivion of shutdown.
After some time has passed I either succumb to exhaustion and gratefully sink into restful shutdown or I expend my last energy erupting in a paroxysm of violent, undirected anger before quickly subsiding. Whichever route I take I end up drained and need time to rest and recuperate, to regain some strength. But at least there is usually calm once the storm has passed.
After some time has passed I either succumb to exhaustion and gratefully sink into restful shutdown or I expend my last energy erupting in a paroxysm of violent, undirected anger before quickly subsiding. Whichever route I take I end up drained and need time to rest and recuperate, to regain some strength. But at least there is usually calm once the storm has passed.
Monday, 12 September 2011
Learning to be More Understanding
Over the past few months my relationship with a certain other person, whom I shall refer to as W, has been up and down so much that visualising the turns it has taken is enough to make me sea-sick. At the heart of the problem is difficulty in communication: W is neurotypical while I have Aspergers Syndrome.
When W is suffering with health problems or depression she will talk about it at great length in a highly emotionally-charged way and her language will become much more figurative and abstract than normal. I find this combination particularly difficult to handle. Because I know her so well I have learned to interpret the emotional cues in her voice - when she is feeling so tired and frustrated and even angry at her illnesses this comes through to me in her voice and mannerisms. I find the strong emotions very difficult to cope with and tend to shut down.
It appears that this response is not very helpful to W - how could I have known? My own reaction to pain - physical or mental - is usually to keep it all inside. I become more withdrawn - even though I might be yearning for some comfort, for a hug that will make me feel safe and less anxious. But in that state I can't express how I feel or what I need to help me deal with it.
So it turns out that what I need at times like this is almost exactly what W needs too. And now we've figured it out. I know it sounds simple, almost trivial, but between my inability to speak about my feelings and my literal misinterpretation of W's descriptions of her feelings - when I haven't just shut down from the emotional overload - we've been failing to communicate. Which has been causing far too much unnecessary stress on both sides.
I'm not saying that we've completely resolved the problems - time will tell on that score. But we have reached a new level of understanding. I know it sounds contradictory but I'm learning to be more supportive by taking less notice of W - I have to partially block her out so that I avoid overloading and shutting down. So that I can continue to function and respond. Which all helps her deal with what she's going through and in turn helps me.
Yes, it would probably have been easier for both of us to have ended the relationship rather than work hard at discovering problems and trying to fix them. But what seems easy in the short term often turns out not to be the best option in the longer term. We both feel that there is enough value in our relationship to make the effort of repairing it worthwhile, because when it's working it is so strong and strengthens both of us.
When W is suffering with health problems or depression she will talk about it at great length in a highly emotionally-charged way and her language will become much more figurative and abstract than normal. I find this combination particularly difficult to handle. Because I know her so well I have learned to interpret the emotional cues in her voice - when she is feeling so tired and frustrated and even angry at her illnesses this comes through to me in her voice and mannerisms. I find the strong emotions very difficult to cope with and tend to shut down.
It appears that this response is not very helpful to W - how could I have known? My own reaction to pain - physical or mental - is usually to keep it all inside. I become more withdrawn - even though I might be yearning for some comfort, for a hug that will make me feel safe and less anxious. But in that state I can't express how I feel or what I need to help me deal with it.
So it turns out that what I need at times like this is almost exactly what W needs too. And now we've figured it out. I know it sounds simple, almost trivial, but between my inability to speak about my feelings and my literal misinterpretation of W's descriptions of her feelings - when I haven't just shut down from the emotional overload - we've been failing to communicate. Which has been causing far too much unnecessary stress on both sides.
I'm not saying that we've completely resolved the problems - time will tell on that score. But we have reached a new level of understanding. I know it sounds contradictory but I'm learning to be more supportive by taking less notice of W - I have to partially block her out so that I avoid overloading and shutting down. So that I can continue to function and respond. Which all helps her deal with what she's going through and in turn helps me.
Yes, it would probably have been easier for both of us to have ended the relationship rather than work hard at discovering problems and trying to fix them. But what seems easy in the short term often turns out not to be the best option in the longer term. We both feel that there is enough value in our relationship to make the effort of repairing it worthwhile, because when it's working it is so strong and strengthens both of us.
Thursday, 8 September 2011
Why I Hate CFLs
Fluorescent lighting can cause me problems. Older strip lights are especially bad with their 100 Hz flicker (UK mains AC frequency is 50 Hz) - I am particularly sensitive to flickering light and it causes me eye strain and headaches. Newer fluorescent lamps pretty much avoid this. Until they start to fail, and then they flicker and flash. And cause me discomfort.
I grew up with incandescent light bulbs - I'm very used to their colour temperature which gives warm, comforting yellowish hues. I'm used to flicking the switch and having the light reach full intensity as near to instantly as I can discern. There's an old joke about a bedroom being so small they you could switch off the light and be in bed before it went dark. With a CFL it's the reverse - you can switch on the light and be in bed before it gets bright! Compact fluorescent lights (CFLs) are different. I don't like different - I don't do change.
Light from CFLs appears cold by comparison - it has a higher colour temperature which is more blue. At low intensities (my wife and I like low lighting levels at home in the evenings for that cosy atmosphere) they appear particularly cold and dim. They don't light up instantly - there is a warm up period that can take up to a minute or so. They get noticeably dimmer long before they fail - about halfway through their lifespan - so their useful life is reduced. And the powers-that-be have decreed that we shall all use them hence forth - I take a special dislike to having inferior alternatives forced on me. Yes, their energy efficiency is higher in use, but they require much more energy to manufacture, and manufacture and disposal exposes the environment to more hazardous materials. I remain to be convinced that the argument in their favour is as clear-cut as some people make out - especially as their stated longevity is far higher than their practical useful life, taking into account frequent switching and disposal when light output falls below an acceptable threshold rather than when the lamp fails.
We've tried CFL lighting in our kitchen. The brightness of the illumination was subjectively equivalent to the incandescent bulb once it got warmed up but it was dim enough to irritate me before that - no good when you just nip in to make a cup of tea or a sandwich during a commercial break and don't want to hang around waiting until the light gets bright enough to work by. My wife has some vision problems and found it very difficult to see clearly by its light. I ended up throwing the CFL in the trash and reverting to an incandescent bulb - the CFL was just not fit for purpose. We don't have the choice of replacing the one in our bathroom because the fixture is specific to a particular type of fluorescent lamp. There's no regular heating in our bathroom - just an electric fan heater - and in winter the temperature in there can fall close to the outside ambient level. That means that the lamp takes much longer to warm up and produce an acceptable level of light - at the time of year when it is needed more. I can be in and out of there, ablutions complete, before it reaches full brightness. So much for technological progress!
Incidentally, I didn't know until recently that CFLs are supposed to be disposed of separately because they contain hazardous materials. Maybe it said something on the packaging but who keeps that to read months down the line? So I've inadvertently added a little Hg to our local landfill. Wonder how many other people have done the same because they either didn't know or couldn't be bothered? It's not like anybody's going to sift through all those tons of waste just in case there's a CFL that found its way in there. So there's going to be more toxic waste building up in the environment as a result. Sheesh! Sometimes I think we as a species don't deserve this planet.
I grew up with incandescent light bulbs - I'm very used to their colour temperature which gives warm, comforting yellowish hues. I'm used to flicking the switch and having the light reach full intensity as near to instantly as I can discern. There's an old joke about a bedroom being so small they you could switch off the light and be in bed before it went dark. With a CFL it's the reverse - you can switch on the light and be in bed before it gets bright! Compact fluorescent lights (CFLs) are different. I don't like different - I don't do change.
Light from CFLs appears cold by comparison - it has a higher colour temperature which is more blue. At low intensities (my wife and I like low lighting levels at home in the evenings for that cosy atmosphere) they appear particularly cold and dim. They don't light up instantly - there is a warm up period that can take up to a minute or so. They get noticeably dimmer long before they fail - about halfway through their lifespan - so their useful life is reduced. And the powers-that-be have decreed that we shall all use them hence forth - I take a special dislike to having inferior alternatives forced on me. Yes, their energy efficiency is higher in use, but they require much more energy to manufacture, and manufacture and disposal exposes the environment to more hazardous materials. I remain to be convinced that the argument in their favour is as clear-cut as some people make out - especially as their stated longevity is far higher than their practical useful life, taking into account frequent switching and disposal when light output falls below an acceptable threshold rather than when the lamp fails.
We've tried CFL lighting in our kitchen. The brightness of the illumination was subjectively equivalent to the incandescent bulb once it got warmed up but it was dim enough to irritate me before that - no good when you just nip in to make a cup of tea or a sandwich during a commercial break and don't want to hang around waiting until the light gets bright enough to work by. My wife has some vision problems and found it very difficult to see clearly by its light. I ended up throwing the CFL in the trash and reverting to an incandescent bulb - the CFL was just not fit for purpose. We don't have the choice of replacing the one in our bathroom because the fixture is specific to a particular type of fluorescent lamp. There's no regular heating in our bathroom - just an electric fan heater - and in winter the temperature in there can fall close to the outside ambient level. That means that the lamp takes much longer to warm up and produce an acceptable level of light - at the time of year when it is needed more. I can be in and out of there, ablutions complete, before it reaches full brightness. So much for technological progress!
Incidentally, I didn't know until recently that CFLs are supposed to be disposed of separately because they contain hazardous materials. Maybe it said something on the packaging but who keeps that to read months down the line? So I've inadvertently added a little Hg to our local landfill. Wonder how many other people have done the same because they either didn't know or couldn't be bothered? It's not like anybody's going to sift through all those tons of waste just in case there's a CFL that found its way in there. So there's going to be more toxic waste building up in the environment as a result. Sheesh! Sometimes I think we as a species don't deserve this planet.
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
Writing My Way To Happiness
Why do I derive such pleasure from writing? It ties in with my special interest in words. It provides a means for me to communicate without speech. But it's more than that - there's the joy I get from the creative act of crafting a written work and the release I feel when I am able to express how I feel through this medium.
My first writing, naturally, was at school - "What I Did On Holiday" and the like. I was taught spelling and grammar from the outset and this has stood me in good stead - knowing the rules and conventions allows me to decide when to bend or break them for effect. But it's not just my scholastic education that has influenced how I write - I've also picked up elements of style and structure from works that I've read over the years.
I've never had much trouble recounting events but imaginative writing has always been a problem - I find it impossible to invent characters and settings and have to fall back on stereotypes - so I avoid writing fiction when I have any choice in the matter. The last time I remember writing a fictional account I was at school - it was a diary entry from the perspective of Rev. Parris while we were studying The Crucible. I chose to concentrate on events from a segment of the play rather than attempting to ascribe feelings to the character, and found the most interesting aspect to be my attempt at recreating the language of the period - special interest strikes again!
I enjoy writing poetry in various forms - the range of constraints within the form offers an interesting challenge - but I worry that I'm not very good at it. It can be a challenging technique to become truly proficient in - I've always had difficulty maintaining the rhythm of the prosody because I have trouble determining the appropriate stress and intonation of words in speech. I have a somewhat monotonous tone and rhythm when I speak - I've got better at it over the years but it doesn't come naturally. (My wife sometimes asks me to read to her at night to help her fall asleep.)
None of my essays are what I would describe as long - one English teacher wrote on a school report, "concise but errs on the side of brevity" and I had several similar comments across various subjects over the years. I believe it's linked to my AS and my lack of small-talk in conversation. I have an innate inability to waffle - I consider this to be a positive trait because I find listening to such talk causes my attention to wander, and I just want to tell the speaker to get to the point!
So, how do I write? I get an idea in mind for a subject - often about myself or something that evokes strong feelings - and just start writing. Sometimes I'm inspired by an article I've read; sometimes it's a way of dealing with my emotional state. Sometimes I drift off topic but I do try to maintain focus. Since I enjoy writing much more than editing, I worry about the end result being a bit rough around the edges - I never spend much time reviewing and polishing. I start at the beginning with no idea how it's going to end, and keep writing until I've included pretty much everything I wanted to cover. I read it through, maybe tweak a couple of words here, a phrase there, and somehow it seems to turn out all right. I can't really explain my writing process any better than this: I know what I want to convey and the words simply come out.
In some respects it does come easily to me - I can turn my thoughts into words with little effort. But only when writing. And this fluency is another reason I gain pleasure from it, when I contrast it with the hesitancy and mental blocking that afflicts my speech. I find the written word to be a more natural means of communication.
My first writing, naturally, was at school - "What I Did On Holiday" and the like. I was taught spelling and grammar from the outset and this has stood me in good stead - knowing the rules and conventions allows me to decide when to bend or break them for effect. But it's not just my scholastic education that has influenced how I write - I've also picked up elements of style and structure from works that I've read over the years.
I've never had much trouble recounting events but imaginative writing has always been a problem - I find it impossible to invent characters and settings and have to fall back on stereotypes - so I avoid writing fiction when I have any choice in the matter. The last time I remember writing a fictional account I was at school - it was a diary entry from the perspective of Rev. Parris while we were studying The Crucible. I chose to concentrate on events from a segment of the play rather than attempting to ascribe feelings to the character, and found the most interesting aspect to be my attempt at recreating the language of the period - special interest strikes again!
I enjoy writing poetry in various forms - the range of constraints within the form offers an interesting challenge - but I worry that I'm not very good at it. It can be a challenging technique to become truly proficient in - I've always had difficulty maintaining the rhythm of the prosody because I have trouble determining the appropriate stress and intonation of words in speech. I have a somewhat monotonous tone and rhythm when I speak - I've got better at it over the years but it doesn't come naturally. (My wife sometimes asks me to read to her at night to help her fall asleep.)
None of my essays are what I would describe as long - one English teacher wrote on a school report, "concise but errs on the side of brevity" and I had several similar comments across various subjects over the years. I believe it's linked to my AS and my lack of small-talk in conversation. I have an innate inability to waffle - I consider this to be a positive trait because I find listening to such talk causes my attention to wander, and I just want to tell the speaker to get to the point!
So, how do I write? I get an idea in mind for a subject - often about myself or something that evokes strong feelings - and just start writing. Sometimes I'm inspired by an article I've read; sometimes it's a way of dealing with my emotional state. Sometimes I drift off topic but I do try to maintain focus. Since I enjoy writing much more than editing, I worry about the end result being a bit rough around the edges - I never spend much time reviewing and polishing. I start at the beginning with no idea how it's going to end, and keep writing until I've included pretty much everything I wanted to cover. I read it through, maybe tweak a couple of words here, a phrase there, and somehow it seems to turn out all right. I can't really explain my writing process any better than this: I know what I want to convey and the words simply come out.
In some respects it does come easily to me - I can turn my thoughts into words with little effort. But only when writing. And this fluency is another reason I gain pleasure from it, when I contrast it with the hesitancy and mental blocking that afflicts my speech. I find the written word to be a more natural means of communication.
Friday, 2 September 2011
Aspergers Relationships
The difficulties experienced by most people on the autism spectrum when it comes to social interaction are a major handicap when it comes to forming relationships. I'm no different in this respect - I have never "chatted up" anybody in my life and wouldn't even know where to start. It's not something you ever get taught. Besides that, approaching a stranger - even one that I find attractive - causes me too much anxiety and I can't manage a conversation in that frame of mind. It's hard enough for me to start a conversation and keep it going with somebody I know well and feel comfortable around. I should also note that "attractiveness" for me is a very subjective thing - for example, I never come up with names that people are expecting when asked to name a celebrity I find attractive. But that's another subject.
The end result of my social difficulties was that I never had a girlfriend right through school and university. To be honest I didn't even try - it wasn't something that I felt I needed or was able to do. My first relationship began after I moved away from home to start work. I was about 23 and she made the first moves. Looking back I guess I got almost obsessively involved very quickly - this isn't uncommon for people with Aspergers, but at the time I hadn't even heard of the condition. Although we got married and had a daughter, the relationship didn't last for a number of reasons - some of them related to my AS, others to do with a more basic incompatibility. The break-up was extremely stressful on both sides and I ceased contact soon afterwards - I just couldn't face it because even thinking about it would overload me.
Understandably I wasn't looking for another relationship after this experience, but a year or so down the line I ended up in one - only my second - with the woman who was to become my second - and current - wife. This one also started intensely and cooled over the years but we have proved to be rather more compatible than was the case in my first marriage. It was my current wife who first suspected that I have AS - she has some experience with neurological disorders which helps her understand me.
Our relationship began when she started chatting to me in a bar. We had friends in common and I believe that's why I felt so comfortable so quickly. I never had any plan - any end result in mind - for where our friendship might lead. I just kind of got caught up in the flow and without having a clear idea of how we got there we ended up living together and, some time later, got married.
We have had times when we have argued - or, to be more precise, when she has got riled up and I've responded by overloading with either a meltdown or more usually a shutdown. But these have been rare and short-lived and in the main we get along very well. We complement each other's strengths: I am normally placid and level-headed while she is emotional and impulsive. She instigates the majority of what we do while I keep our feet on the ground. She manages the household (finances and suchlike) regarding which I have a major blind spot.
What I regard as my biggest strengths: I am completely loyal and faithful, I care very deeply about her. My biggest weaknesses: I can't show or express my feelings in speech, I fall into repetitive behaviour very easily. I know that life with me is difficult for her at times. Even after nearly ten years together, she still expects me to react "normally" in certain situations. But between us we are making a success of this relationship. One of the keys to that success has been the fact that she understands how having AS affects me.
The end result of my social difficulties was that I never had a girlfriend right through school and university. To be honest I didn't even try - it wasn't something that I felt I needed or was able to do. My first relationship began after I moved away from home to start work. I was about 23 and she made the first moves. Looking back I guess I got almost obsessively involved very quickly - this isn't uncommon for people with Aspergers, but at the time I hadn't even heard of the condition. Although we got married and had a daughter, the relationship didn't last for a number of reasons - some of them related to my AS, others to do with a more basic incompatibility. The break-up was extremely stressful on both sides and I ceased contact soon afterwards - I just couldn't face it because even thinking about it would overload me.
Understandably I wasn't looking for another relationship after this experience, but a year or so down the line I ended up in one - only my second - with the woman who was to become my second - and current - wife. This one also started intensely and cooled over the years but we have proved to be rather more compatible than was the case in my first marriage. It was my current wife who first suspected that I have AS - she has some experience with neurological disorders which helps her understand me.
Our relationship began when she started chatting to me in a bar. We had friends in common and I believe that's why I felt so comfortable so quickly. I never had any plan - any end result in mind - for where our friendship might lead. I just kind of got caught up in the flow and without having a clear idea of how we got there we ended up living together and, some time later, got married.
We have had times when we have argued - or, to be more precise, when she has got riled up and I've responded by overloading with either a meltdown or more usually a shutdown. But these have been rare and short-lived and in the main we get along very well. We complement each other's strengths: I am normally placid and level-headed while she is emotional and impulsive. She instigates the majority of what we do while I keep our feet on the ground. She manages the household (finances and suchlike) regarding which I have a major blind spot.
What I regard as my biggest strengths: I am completely loyal and faithful, I care very deeply about her. My biggest weaknesses: I can't show or express my feelings in speech, I fall into repetitive behaviour very easily. I know that life with me is difficult for her at times. Even after nearly ten years together, she still expects me to react "normally" in certain situations. But between us we are making a success of this relationship. One of the keys to that success has been the fact that she understands how having AS affects me.
Thursday, 1 September 2011
Analysing Myself
There's a fairly constant dialogue going on in my mind as I watch and analyse my thoughts and actions. It's the price I pay for trying to fit my behaviour to "normal" expectations - I have to consider whatever I am planning to say or do and try to predict how the people around me will react.
I'm generally pretty successful at it and most people I interact with are unaware that I'm neurologically different to them. The trouble is that it's exhausting - the sustained mental effort required to maintain the illusion can leave me totally drained and susceptible to overload with even a little extra stress.
I'm close to that point now. Feeling down over the weekend was very tiring and required that I make an extra effort to mask it - put it to one side - and carry on. I'm wrestling with a thorny technical problem at work as well which it taking a great deal of thought. I'm getting the urge to just retire to a quiet, darkened room and shut down for a spell. Recharge the batteries. I'm fighting against my need to see the job through - I can just about see the end in sight and need to resolve it before I can let myself give in and relax.
I'm conscious of putting myself under pressure and so contributing to my mental load but I can't seem to stop it and step back for a minute to get everything into perspective. I'm drowning under a sea of detail, unable to see the whole picture. It's a drawback of my bottom-up approach to problem solving - I concentrate on the basic details at the root and can occasionally get overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the job from that angle.
I know that I need to break things into manageable chunks and concentrate on just part of the problem at a time, but at the moment I can't let go of the totality and it feels as if it's filling my mind, leaving no space to work on each part in turn. This is a side-effect of fatigue as well as a contributing factor - it's a vicious circle that I need to find a way to break.
I'm analysing myself and my reaction to my current situation, looking for just such an opening into which I can focus my effort and stop the cycle. I know from past experience it's just a matter of time before I crack it and that's the straw that this drowning man is clutching at. My problem is not intractable although it might appear so right now. All it will take is a fresh perspective, an approach from a new direction. And until I find it I'm trapped, mentally running round in circles, wasting energy - tracing path after path through the maze, looking for that way out. And then a well-earned rest.
I'm generally pretty successful at it and most people I interact with are unaware that I'm neurologically different to them. The trouble is that it's exhausting - the sustained mental effort required to maintain the illusion can leave me totally drained and susceptible to overload with even a little extra stress.
I'm close to that point now. Feeling down over the weekend was very tiring and required that I make an extra effort to mask it - put it to one side - and carry on. I'm wrestling with a thorny technical problem at work as well which it taking a great deal of thought. I'm getting the urge to just retire to a quiet, darkened room and shut down for a spell. Recharge the batteries. I'm fighting against my need to see the job through - I can just about see the end in sight and need to resolve it before I can let myself give in and relax.
I'm conscious of putting myself under pressure and so contributing to my mental load but I can't seem to stop it and step back for a minute to get everything into perspective. I'm drowning under a sea of detail, unable to see the whole picture. It's a drawback of my bottom-up approach to problem solving - I concentrate on the basic details at the root and can occasionally get overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the job from that angle.
I know that I need to break things into manageable chunks and concentrate on just part of the problem at a time, but at the moment I can't let go of the totality and it feels as if it's filling my mind, leaving no space to work on each part in turn. This is a side-effect of fatigue as well as a contributing factor - it's a vicious circle that I need to find a way to break.
I'm analysing myself and my reaction to my current situation, looking for just such an opening into which I can focus my effort and stop the cycle. I know from past experience it's just a matter of time before I crack it and that's the straw that this drowning man is clutching at. My problem is not intractable although it might appear so right now. All it will take is a fresh perspective, an approach from a new direction. And until I find it I'm trapped, mentally running round in circles, wasting energy - tracing path after path through the maze, looking for that way out. And then a well-earned rest.
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