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.
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Lambs To The Slaughter
Hate breeds quickly in the festering darkness
Of ignorance and fear.
Those unwilling to abandon the comfortable
Apathetic illusions;
Those afraid to challenge received "wisdom"
With original thought,
Will be driven with the rest of the herd,
Bowing to the dog.
It ends in blood.
Of ignorance and fear.
Those unwilling to abandon the comfortable
Apathetic illusions;
Those afraid to challenge received "wisdom"
With original thought,
Will be driven with the rest of the herd,
Bowing to the dog.
It ends in blood.
Rights Manifesto
I just read a post by Rachel Cohen-Rottenburg, The Empathy Issue Is a Human Rights Issue, and it got me thinking about the rights I take for granted.
The first right I list below, "to be identified and treated as a member of the human race", is a direct reaction to some of the quotations in Rachel's post - statements she has found in certain academic papers on the subject of autism and empathy. These quotations indicate that a significant number of researchers - some at the top of their fields in psychology and neuroscience - are denying autistic people their humanity based on perceptions of limited or absent empathy. I take great offence at the implications of this - I feel strongly that this is a dangerous direction to be heading in: once you start thinking of a group as non-human the next step is to treat them as non-human, without human dignity and rights.
If anybody reading this feels that this seems a small point to be taking issue with, may I remind them that, historically, labelling a group as inferior has been a prelude to their exploitation (enslaving black Africans) or persecution (denial of freedom to women to this day in parts of the world). I will speak out against such malicious, pernicious misrepresentation because I believe we are all human with all the worth and dignity that entails. There are some people who would twist and restrict their definition of human to divide their world into "people like me" and "people different from me" - with the latter group being summarily cast out from the human race. Here's a thought for you: would you feel it was more offensive if instead of autistic people it was black, Jewish, disabled, terminally ill or English people that were being called non-human?
So, having said my piece on that subject, here's my take on the rights I claim, and what I will give in return.
The first right I list below, "to be identified and treated as a member of the human race", is a direct reaction to some of the quotations in Rachel's post - statements she has found in certain academic papers on the subject of autism and empathy. These quotations indicate that a significant number of researchers - some at the top of their fields in psychology and neuroscience - are denying autistic people their humanity based on perceptions of limited or absent empathy. I take great offence at the implications of this - I feel strongly that this is a dangerous direction to be heading in: once you start thinking of a group as non-human the next step is to treat them as non-human, without human dignity and rights.
If anybody reading this feels that this seems a small point to be taking issue with, may I remind them that, historically, labelling a group as inferior has been a prelude to their exploitation (enslaving black Africans) or persecution (denial of freedom to women to this day in parts of the world). I will speak out against such malicious, pernicious misrepresentation because I believe we are all human with all the worth and dignity that entails. There are some people who would twist and restrict their definition of human to divide their world into "people like me" and "people different from me" - with the latter group being summarily cast out from the human race. Here's a thought for you: would you feel it was more offensive if instead of autistic people it was black, Jewish, disabled, terminally ill or English people that were being called non-human?
So, having said my piece on that subject, here's my take on the rights I claim, and what I will give in return.
- I have the right to be identified and treated as a member of the human race.
- I have the right to express myself in whatever way is most natural for me to the extent that it does not breach the rights of any other person.
- I have the right to hold my own opinions and beliefs and not have them imposed on me by others.
- I have the right to be free from intolerance, intimidation, exploitation, persecution and abuse.
- I have the right to feel safe and free from anxiety, and the right to seek a place of safety if I feel threatened.
- I have the right to be different without interference or being told that there is something "wrong" with the way I am.
- I have the right to expect understanding from other people.
- I have the right to make mistakes without incurring any disproportionate penalties.
- I have the right to be left alone in peace when I need to shut down.
- I have the right to choose who I associate with, and who I do not associate with.
- I have the right to ask for help when I need it, and the right to refuse help when I do not.
- I have the right to live, or the right to die should I choose to.
- I will take responsibility for my own actions.
- I will treat other people as I would expect to be treated myself: with understanding and compassion.
- I will be tolerant of other people and will not intimidate, persecute, exploit or abuse them.
- I will allow other people to express themselves and to act in whatever way they see fit as long as they do not infringe upon my rights or the rights of others.
- I will not force my own beliefs and opinions on other people.
- I will offer help to those in need and refrain from interference in the affairs of those who want to be left alone.
- I will accept that everybody is different and that this does not affect their worth as human beings.
- I will dissociate myself from those who breach my rights or the rights of others, and will not tolerate them as long as they cause harm.
- I will judge others based on how they treat myself and others, and not on how they might differ from me.
- I will endeavour to correct any mistakes I make.
- I will accept that nobody is infallible and forgive accidental mistakes by others.
- I will accept restriction of my rights should I fail to fulfil my responsibilities.
Monday, 5 September 2011
Sensory Overload
All around me spoken fragments whirl,
Buffeting the flimsy mental walls.
Carrying no message they unfurl
Deep within; train of thought soon stalls.
Ears pick up promiscuous exchange
From people ignorant they impinge
Glaringly upon me. Senses range
High and low: seek peace else I unhinge.
Inundated by the flow of words
Juxtaposed in time, the threads entwined,
Knot in writhing tangles. What was heard's
Lost in noise, just too much for my mind.
Managing to block out this refrain
Needs more effort than I can sustain.
On a rocky lee shore, run aground,
Pounded by the stormy wind and rain,
Quivering. Safe harbour must be found:
Rest before I'm broken yet again.
Suffering exhaustion, mental blocks
That I once relied on start to crack
Under such a strain. The hammer cocks,
Verging on an act with no way back.
Withdraw! Retreat! Overload ahoy!
Xanthic streak preserves my precious skin.
Yellow-bellied, frightened little boy,
Zombie-like, lights on but no-one in.
Buffeting the flimsy mental walls.
Carrying no message they unfurl
Deep within; train of thought soon stalls.
Ears pick up promiscuous exchange
From people ignorant they impinge
Glaringly upon me. Senses range
High and low: seek peace else I unhinge.
Inundated by the flow of words
Juxtaposed in time, the threads entwined,
Knot in writhing tangles. What was heard's
Lost in noise, just too much for my mind.
Managing to block out this refrain
Needs more effort than I can sustain.
On a rocky lee shore, run aground,
Pounded by the stormy wind and rain,
Quivering. Safe harbour must be found:
Rest before I'm broken yet again.
Suffering exhaustion, mental blocks
That I once relied on start to crack
Under such a strain. The hammer cocks,
Verging on an act with no way back.
Withdraw! Retreat! Overload ahoy!
Xanthic streak preserves my precious skin.
Yellow-bellied, frightened little boy,
Zombie-like, lights on but no-one in.
Fear of School
Have you ever been stuck in a place you never felt you belonged in? That happened to me when I went to grammar school (equivalent of high school). It was 1985. I was 11, coming up 12 when, having left Clevelands Preparatory School, I started at Manchester Grammar School in September.
Seven boys from my school had passed the entrance exam and won places at MGS. We were all in different forms - I suspect with hindsight that this might have been deliberate to encourage the development of new friendships. What it meant in practice was that I was suddenly in the midst of a group of strangers.
I never mixed. I used to spend my break times walking the corridors, feeling isolated. Early on I would pop into the form rooms of my schoolmates from my previous school, but they had quickly formed new friendships and I was not a part of that.
I gravitated towards other social undesirables: nerds and geeks of one form or another. Natural prey for the bullies. I was always big enough that I never experienced physical intimidation - it was the more insidious psychological form. I never knew how to respond to it. I would just sit or stand there and take it, while inside I was hurting.
An example of the callous behaviour of some of my classmates: the partner of our English teacher was stabbed to death and they harassed her with comments about the incident to the point where she broke down in tears and had to exit the room. If that was how they could treat a teacher imagine how much worse it was for me and the other pupils on the receiving end.
I had always looked up to and respected my teachers: I was always taught to respect my elders. I felt that they must be infallible. So it came as a massive shock to me when one of my teachers made what I considered to be an error of judgement. I and several of my classmates did not hear him assign homework one time. I still feel a deep sense of injustice that we were all given detention rather that him realising that it was his failure to communicate effectively.
That was the tipping point for me. I had always felt that despite the bullying from certain pupils, I could rely on my teachers for support. Turned out I couldn't. At least that was how I felt, and that was what mattered.
When I think of that school I can remember numerous individual incidents. I can't picture any faces, but that's normal for me. I can remember the buildings in considerable detail. But all my memories of the place feel cold and hard-edged. I don't believe I was ever happy there. I even recall the different smells of the different corridors: sawdust and sweat near the woodwork rooms and gym, old cooking smells near the dinner hall, paper and pipe tobacco outside the teachers' common room and the only happy memory: the smell of new books in the bookshop.
All my other memories of that school evoke feelings ranging from discomfort to outright fear. I still find it very difficult to think of those two and a half years. I had to shut them out completely for several years before I was even able to tell my mother that I had been bullied. This is my most complete account to date.
A short way into my third year at that school I was finding it very difficult to even face the place and the people in it. I considered opening the car door - my father drove me to school - and jumping out. But I couldn't do it because I was afraid of hurting myself.
In the end I was so anxious about going to school that I wedged my bedroom door shut with a screwdriver driven into the door frame: locked myself in so that I couldn't be made to attend. At first my father was very angry - I can remember being very afraid of the anger and shutting down. But after a few days life settled down into the new routine whereby I would stay in my room night and day and everything else carried on around me.
Things couldn't go on like that for long. Obviously my parents were worried about what was going on and before long I was persuaded to try to go to school. I remember sitting on my father's car with the deputy headmaster talking but being unable to respond or get out of the car: an early shutdown. In the end my father gave up and brought me back home.
Before long a child psychologist was involved. I remember visiting her office. I don't recall much detail but I do remember her asking what seemed to me, even at that age, a stupid question about whether a glass was half full or half empty. Obviously it is both at the same time, and there's no reason to prefer one description to the other. There were other questions about whether I had suicidal thoughts - I didn't - and that was about that. I got the feeling that I was beyond her limited knowledge and experience. As I've mentioned before, Aspergers wasn't recognised back then.
The only thing that finally broke me out of me self-imposed isolation was a change of school. After that things went very well and I prospered. It goes to show the need I have for a supportive environment.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)