PERSONAL AUTISTIC DISCOVERIES: Autism Spectrum Traits That I Didn’t Necessarily Know That I Have

This post is another avenue of this concept…

VERY RECENTLY,

I was on Facebook when a post from one of my Facebook friends caught my attention.

She posted a list of traits that people, kids and adults, on the Autism Spectrum have and as I was looking at them, I noticed quite a few traits that I either,

• Didn’t necessarily know that I had of have, or
• Had sort of forgotten that I had or have

Even twenty-six years after I first discovered that I have Asperger’s via a Los Angeles Times article that featured a guy whose experiences in the mainstream neurotypical world mirrored mine.

I jotted the traits that made me think in my mind “I have that,” or “That was a prominent trait of mine as a kid,” or “I didn’t know I had that,” or “I forgot I have/had that,” in a notepad,

And I thought it would be a decent idea to list them; there are surprisingly a lot of traits that reminded me, once and for all, that though largely thanks to being mainstreamed since age six I’m higher functioning that those autistics that are often seen in the movies and on TV not having the ability to speak and suffering from meltdowns; you know, those stereotypical depictions,

I am solidly on the spectrum.

An EXCELLENT thing that EVERYONE needs to learn, understand, and accept…

Here are those traits (and it’s surprisingly a pretty long list):

• Struggles with time management
• Struggles with auditory processing; I’ve found myself saying “What” for most of my life
• Speaking too loudly or too quitely
• Feeling inherently different to other people; That’s been the case since I was first mainstreamed in school in 1973
• Clumsiness; you should see how I was made fun of when I first started really playing sports at ages ten and eleven
• (Sometimes) Not understanding jokes
• Sensitivity to certain sounds; like sirens, dogs barking, babies crying, phones ringing, basketballs bouncing
• Tendency to see the smaller details
• Always needing to plan
• Avoidant to demands; I’ve always had the feeling of being oppressed or seen as an inferior being when that happens in a certain way
• Struggling in crowds; especially the last two and a half years with this COVID pandemic
• Experiencing emotions intensely; particularly as a young kid, you should have seen the meltdowns on the school playgrounds that I had when I was bullied
• Being overly sensitive to temperatures; especially heat, which is why I’ve more or less shut down during these recent heat waves in my Los Angeles area
• Blunt communication; yes, I’ve always been and pretty much still am a “Tell it like it is” kind of guy
• Attachment to objects; I remember not being able to be without a Snoopy doll I had when I was seven and eight
• Over apologizing
• Relying on scripts in my head; the story of my public, mainstream life
• Tendency to hyperfocus
• Struggling with interrupting; I’ve always had issues with that during conversations
• Difficulty switching tasks; that was a particular problem in the past
• Extreme anxiety
• Struggling with hygiene; that was certainly the case during ages eleven to around fourteen or so
• Hyper empathy
• Love of animals; you should see how nuts I go over seeing cats on TV or in public. And I go nuts over cute puppies and rabbits, too
• Difficulty identifying emotions; I had a harder time doing this when I was younger and though I’m better at it now, it’s still hard for me
• Difficulties with posture
• Relying on routines
• Hating change
• Re-watching the same TV show; there’s one show in particular – I won’t say what show it is – that I’ve watched pretty much every night
• Hating phone calls; I’ve always felt and will probably always feel intruded upon, especially from telemarketers and other phone solicitors who ask for donations or whatever

Gee,

That’s thirty autistic traits that I have out of about thirty-five or forty that were listed on the Facebook post.

The difficulties in my life came not from having these traits,

But from having these traits in the mainstream.

For those who say that I should have been in a special program,

Unlike these days, there were no programs for high functioning folks on the spectrum to teach social skills and other things during my formative years in the 1970s and 80s;

Kids like me were mainstreamed and, while they were able to keep up and excel academically,

That’s wasn’t the case socially, hence the bullying and the shunning.

Heck, there are times when I still feel shunned and not only misunderstood, but also receive the impression that many if not most of the people who I interact with don’t want to understand me;

That me being different is not okay with them.

And although I accept it as a guy in his mid-fifties,

It’s still not a pleasant feeling.

At all.

But what am I gonna do about it?

There’s honestly nothing I can do, not without ceasing to be myself, which I don’t want to do,

Except for one thing:

Sigh, and carry on.

I wish that EVERYBODY felt this way but sadly, there’s FAR too much evidence otherwise…

IT COULD HAVE BEEN ME: What I, On The Autism Spectrum Disorder, May Have Faced 70 and 80 Years Ago

Photo courtesy of ourkids.net

 

A few years ago I was spending Thanksgiving at a relative’s house, doing the praying and the eating of the turkey and the watching of the football and the typical loving family things that are done  on that holiday.

I don’t remember what it was that sparked it, but as my various relatives – including a cousin with Down’s Syndrome – and I were sitting in the living room, my aunt began to talk about when she was a girl in the 1930s, when children with developmental disabilities like my cousin turned five they were sent to (in the case of the Los Angeles area) the state mental hospital in Camarillo.

And were never seen again, the mindset evidently being that it would be a waste of time for kids on the Autism Spectrum, or with Down’s, or any other kind of mental or emotional disability to be in a world where they obviously (in society’s mind) wouldn’t be able to support themselves or make a living or anything like that.

There were no special education programs in the 1930s, or the 1940s or 50s or even the 60s for that matter, as that branch of education didn’t really come about until the 1970s; it didn’t become mandatory in American public schools until 1975.

As I was listening to my aunt that Thanksgiving night, one thought came to mind…

“That could have been me.”

The way I sometimes behaved as a kid due to my having Asperger’s – in ways that is difficult for me to talk about to this day (which is one reason for my book WALKING ON EGGSHELLS, as it describes some of those incidents at length so I won’t have to talk about them in conversation) they were so extreme, animalistic, and shame-inducing – I’m convinced that I would have been one of those kids taken away to Camarillo for the rest of my life if I were born in 1927 or ’37 instead of 1967.

I’m only grateful that the school I went to in Riverside, CA during kindergarten had a “Special Day Class” where I even though the teachers (one of them, anyway) were rough on me as far as behavioral modification, I was able to improve on my animal-like behavior to be mainstreamed into a regular first grade class the next year – and every year clear on through high school and beyond.

In fact, I used to like to say that I was the only kid I knew who was in both special ed and gifted classes during my K-12 school years; both ends of the spectrum, so to speak.

All right, I know some of you are probably saying right now, “What are you getting at?”

THE BOTTOM LINE:

I’m glad that there are so many programs and schools geared toward kids and adults with Down’s and on the spectrum now.

I’m glad that I was mainstreamed, even though I sometimes wonder how my life would have been if I wasn’t, if I spent my formative years in special ed programs.

And even though I sometimes get a little weary of my difficulties in the neurotypical world due to being an aspie, even though things could very much be better I’m ultimately glad that my life has turned out the way it has.

Especially considering the way things are going with too much of our population right now; I’m SO grateful and thankful to God that I’m not homeless or in jail or anything of that nature.

I suppose that’s all I have to say right now.

 

A nice illustration of how ANYONE and EVERYONE is capable of learning and ultimately contributing to society through education. Photo courtesy of bdmtech.blogspot.com

AN EXCERPT FROM “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”

An illustration of what I’ve been doing for work in general for the past nine years…

 

THE FIRST IN A SERIES OF PASSAGES FROM MY SOON TO BE (SELF) PUBLISHED BOOK DETAILING MY LIFE EXPERIENCES WITH ASPERGER’S SYNDROME

 

A while ago I stated that I would be posting excerpts from the book I’ve been working on for the past few years, “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”, in advance of its self publication.

The process of publishing this book, in which I will be using the site Lulu.com, will be my upcoming summer project; it’s my plan to have it ready for reading by September.

In the meantime, here’s the first excerpt, taken from chapter one.

I certainly hope it’s enjoyed…

 

Being that I was about a year or so out of diapers and had joined the masses of the newly potty-trained, I obviously don’t remember the exact details as my mom told me the story of how I essentially taught myself how to read:

Walking up to my grandfather’s large tan suede Laz-I-Boy recliner chair one morning sometime during March of 1970 (according to my calculations) while he was reading the Riverside (CA) Press-Enterprise, our town’s local paper, I peeked over Grandpa’s shoulder at what he was looking at, which was apparently the supermarket ads – probably Stater Brothers as that was a prominent place to get groceries in that area at that time – because according to Mom, I proceeded to read the various names of various items like steak, milk and hamburgers, reading off that newspaper page like I would read Judy Blume’s books a few years later, or The Hunger Games series, Sports Illustrated, The Autobiography of Malcolm X, and the Los Angeles Times now.

Everyone was stunned and flabbergasted, of course, especially since I had just been exposed to the alphabet a few months earlier as I remember Mom buying me one of those magnetic black boards with the brightly colored letters and numbers that previous Christmas and teaching me the A-B-Cs and 1-2-3s off of that. According to her, I was not only able to recite the twenty-six letters fairly quickly, I was also doing things like saying them backwards, dividing them in half and reciting them from A to M and from N to Z, both forwards and backwards, and other peculiar things like that.

I’m sure that my family first thought then that there was something interesting about me as far as my intelligence was concerned; here I was, reading at two and a half years old when other toddlers my age were probably just barely learning how to use the toilet and watching Big Bird, Ernie and Bert and Oscar the Grouch and the then-brand new Sesame Street show…to be able to read so quickly was (in my family’s eyes), to coin the most overused phrase in the English language which I am frankly sick of, amazing.

Like lots of other little “aspies”, however, there were plenty of things that I did and said and behaviors that I displayed that were not so amazing, which ranged from antisocial to bizarre to obsessive to just plain bad, things that I’m most ashamed and embarrassed to think of today…

It was a perfectly pleasant morning at my grandparents’ house in Woodcrest…I think it was the summer, since I remember it being so warm.

There we were, my two cousins and I, three little kids sitting on two bicycles and a Big Wheel, a plastic low rider contraption that was all the rage in the 1970s. Grandpa was putting us in various poses, taking shots and having a pretty good time, when my ASD impulses reared their ugly head.

I was wearing a farmer’s straw hat that I absolutely loved and was most attached to; that head covering was my obsession of the moment, much like Linus and that security blanket of his. As the picture-taking continued…all of a sudden Grandpa stopped shooting, walked over to me, took this beloved hat off of my head and put it on the head of one of my cousins, without any warning or letting me know in advance that he was going to do that.

Now to a normal, neurotypical eight-year old, that would have not been a big deal in the slightest…

Unfortunately for my beloved grandfather and young cousins that day, I was not a normal, neurological eight-year old.

“That’s my hat!” I cried several times, as I commenced with throwing an intercontinental ballistic missile-level tantrum; yelling, screaming, sobbing, throwing lawn chairs around like I was the Incredible Hulk’s son, it’s extremely mortifying to think about, and it’s been over forty years since those hysterics. There’s a snapshot of me sitting down on the patio in the sun, after getting spanked no doubt, me looking royally passed off as I had ruined a perfectly good day because my aspieness prevented me from reacting appropriately to a sudden, unexpected change, which my extreme outburst stemmed from.

All because of a hat that was a pathetically tattered and torn up thing with holes in it, which belonged in the trash!

Looking back, I realized much later that Grandpa…only wanted to try something a little different in our photo shoot, which is a reasonable thing to accept if you’re a neurotypical, but not if you’re an eight-year old on the Autism Spectrum as my aspie brain was telling me that I was being attacked and treated unfairly, with something that I really was attached to being taken away for no reason.

An outsider with no knowledge or understanding of ASD would read this and think, “That was the nastiest brat I’ve ever read about! God, what an obnoxious little shit he was!”

And I honestly can’t say that I blame them for thinking that…

 

This was a part of chapter one, which describes my Asperger’s struggles as a little kid.

Another excerpt from another chapter will be posted on this blog real soon.

 

I remember feeling like and being treated similar to the girl on the right seemingly a lot as a young kid…

Why I’m Never Having Children (As Much As I Like Them)

I don’t wear tights, I don’t live in Neverland and I can’t fly, but like Peter Pan this is one joy that I feel I’ll never be able to know. Photo courtesy of newsworks.org

 

Let me make something clear:

I LIKE CHILDREN VERY MUCH.

They are, for the most part, energetic and fun to be around.

If I didn’t feel that way, I wouldn’t have worked in the education field for roughly twenty years as a physical education teacher, a sports coach – mostly baseball and softball – a tutor and an after-school counselor, with the bulk of that time being spent at the elementary school-age level.

But there’s a reason why as much as this is so, being a father, having someone call me “Dad”, will ultimately never be in the cards for me.

Here’s an illustration of this conviction:

A couple of times a week I visit my town’s local public library to do some computer work, to print some things, and to work on my book detailing my experiences having Asperger’s Syndrome and being on the Autism Spectrum Disorder, “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”.

Every so often, as I do different things on various websites, some toddler in the children’s section would start crying loudly for whatever reason.

While I understand this is what young children do when upset, because of my being extremely noise sensitive, about a 30 on a scale of one to ten,  the sound of the kid crying borders on excruciating as though it has gotten a bit easier as I have aged, it’s still all I can do to not let that sound drive me crazy and wishing for a strict library policy of “Cry & Go” – they cry, they go, at least until the parent can calm them down.

If I feel this way as some random guy in the library, imagine me having to deal with it as a parent.

As much as I regret to say this and wish it was not true, I simply couldn’t handle it.

I also, with much regret, would have trouble and suffer too much stress over a child with any kind of issues, particularly behavioral.

Another reason why I feel that I can never be a father is something that I have thought about quite a bit…

As a person on the Autism Spectrum, I have suffered and struggled, sometimes mightily, to fit in and thrive in this neurotypical (non-disabled) world.

While this was particularly the case as a youngster, in some ways this remains the case as an adult, especially when it comes to being in the workforce as I found that as much as I have tried – and I tried for over 20 years – I just couldn’t succeed in the traditional working for someone else/top-down hierarchy.

Being someone with Asperger’s, there would be a very good chance that any offspring of mine would end up on some level of the Autism Spectrum.

Though I understand that there are many schools and programs today that help such kids with their social skills and teaching them how to fit in, schools and programs that didn’t exist during my formative years in the 1970s and 80s, I just can’t stomach having a child with special needs trying to thrive in a world that’s generally not geared towards them as they would be facing challenges that would break my heart.

In other words, it’s not the kid. It’s the world.

Also, and I feel this must be said as much as it may be unpopular and as much as it pains me to say it…

As an African-American male, I have seen FAR too many young black boys and men being racially profiled and gunned down by police and others simply because of the color of their skin; I was a victim of racial profiling myself.

Not to mention the blatant bigotry that seems to be increasingly rampant on college campuses and elsewhere.

If I had a son, or a daughter for that matter, while I would certainly feel joy there would also be a deep-down worry and sorrow due to those increasingly likely issues that son or daughter would probably have to face.

I couldn’t handle that stress.

By not having children, I feel I’m saving such children from that possibly rough life.

I SO wish I didn’t feel this way, but there you are.

And I of course greatly admire African-American parents who are raising their kids in the environment that we seem to be in.

I know some will read this and see me as weak, or some other negative hyperbole.

All I can say to that is that I’m only doing one thing:

Being honest.

Which I hope people will appreciate as the bottom line is, as much as I like children and wouldn’t mind being a father, it’s just not for me.

After all, having kids is not for everyone as if it were, child abuse and neglect – which I certainly wouldn’t partake in – would not exist.

Simply put, I don’t feel I could handle the responsibility of raising a child.

As I have said, I’m just being honest.

Thanks for letting me vent.

 

Some youngsters with Asperger’s working on what I’m sure is a school assignment. Photo courtesy of myaspergerschild.com

 

THE LATEST: Another Update On “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”

 

Image courtesy of isucceedbook.com

 

CATCHING UP WITH HOW THINGS ARE GOING WITH MY PERSONAL ASPERGER’S EXPERIENCES BOOK

 

In a nutshell, the progress has been quite steady.

Last week I finished editing and rewriting chapter four, which discusses in detail my struggles with regards to feeling  socially alienated and rejected by – in particular – the inner city/working class African-American community as my being bullied by too many of my peers from such community in my youth, I gravitated toward white kids, who were seemingly more accepting of me.

I need to emphasize that this social alienation and rejection was NOT from the entire black community, as there were plenty of folks from there who treated me well, especially in college.

But the tauntings of “Goofy” and “Mark” that – while not all the African-American kids said that to me – too many of my fellow blacks used to describe me left an emotional scar for a long time.

And though I have forgiven those bullies because it’s the right thing to do and I understand that my Asperger’s made me as socially different as a black kid could get, the memories remain.

There will be more details in  “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”.

As of now, I have begun editing and rewriting chapter five, which is a big one because it details my high school days, which were regretfully poor as far as the social nuances were concerned.

So much so that I have split my recollections of those formative years into two chapters my (mostly bad) high school memories are so many; I’m working on part one now.

I have been fairly consistent in this endeavor, setting aside at least one day per week for editing and rewriting what will be my fourth draft of this book of mine.

I reckon if my book is not ready to be published after four drafts, it will never be ready.

Particularly since my publishing deadline remains early June, before my 50th birthday; if I can have it published by June 1st, that would be great!

That’s about it for now; I’ll have another update soon.

 

You know I couldn’t do an article about my writing without including a picture of Snoopy writing. Image courtesy of highbrownmagazine.com

 

Another Report on the Progress of My Book, “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”

A good illustration of the different phases of Autism Spectrum Disorder, from high to low functioning. Image courtesy of outlooksw.co.uk

 

With my self-imposed deadline of (self) publishing the book I’ve been working on for a few years, describing the struggles I’ve had being on the Autism Spectrum Disorder in a neurotypical world throughout my life, just around the corner – June 1st to be precise,

Which by the way will be just in time for my 50th birthday later that month,

I wanted to give a brief update on how things were going with the editing and rewriting of “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”.

To put it in four words:

It’s going pretty well.

Particularly since I’ve been diligent in doing the work, making sure to set aside at least one day a week to rewrite and edit.

 

What much of my social experiences in school and beyond have been like – not from everyone, but from too many people. Photo courtesy of autism.lovetoknow.com

 

In fact, I’m planning on chapter three, which describes the bullying I took during my youth from quite a few of my peers – one in particular who won’t be named – being finished this week with chapter four, which will describe the alienation I have felt and most unfortunately still feel at times from my fellow African-Americans and that community because of my aspieness and the perception of many (not all, but enough to cause lasting trauma) of my fellow blacks of me being a so-called “Goofy Mark” resulting from that, being started on next week.

And hopefully finished by Labor Day.

Which will keep me on schedule as if I approach the Christmas and New Year’s holidays with at least two-thirds if not three-fourths of the book done, I’ll be quite pleased.

Being that I’m working on WALKING ON EGGSHELLS at least once a week and sometimes twice, I’m confident that will be the case.

Especially since I’ve been making cuts in the chapters, and plan to eliminate a certain chapter all together to make the book more precise.

I’ll have another update on my editing and rewriting progress, as I believe this will be my fourth rewrite, in a few weeks.

As well as explain why I’m taking on this endeavor; I think I owe everyone that.

 

Lonely girl next to group of children – This is what I’ve experienced and how I  have felt for much of my life, even as an adult. Photo courtesy of followme.org

 

 

WALKING ON EGGSHELLS: The Latest Progress Update

A good picture, because this is how I wrote my first draft of “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”. Photo courtesy of nytimes.com.

 

IN A NUTSHELL:

Last week I finished editing and rewriting chapter one of WALKING ON EGGSHELLS, having done the same thing to the prologue a few weeks earlier.

It’s the third rewrite of my book, I believe, as after editing the second rewrite it was pretty obvious that it needed to be done.

I’m taking at least one day a week to work on it, two if I feel up to it as I want to avoid burn out which will, at least hopefully, keep it on pace for self-publication by next June 1st.

Which I’ve decided is the target date for this book depicting my largely bad experiences of having Asperger’s Syndrome and being on the Autism Spectrum Disorder being finished and published.

Like any other editor, I’m planning to make changes and cuts as one of my prominent thoughts during this process is, “How can I make this more precise and straightforward and a better read?”

Included in those cuts is possibly an entire new chapter to replace a chapter I have (I’m not sure which one yet), which I’ll call “Left Behind” as a big part of having Asperger’s is feeling that I’ve been left behind on a lot of life’s milestones.

I’ve mentioned how I didn’t want an outsider telling me that this sentence stinks or this passage needs to be cut or that paragraph needs to be changed, preferring to do those things myself.

It’s not because I think editors are bad or the enemy, but rather with my aspie mindset – as messed up and wrong as it may seem – I find it too difficult to have someone not me telling me that what I’ve written is bad, what to write and what not to write.

No matter how well-intentioned they seem.

As I’ve said, at the risk of sounding arrogant (my apologies if it does as that is not my intent),

No one knows my book better than me.

That’s why I’ve chosen the “Lone Wolf” path in this writing process.

Hold good thoughts…

 

 

 

 

AN UPDATE IN THE PROGRESS OF MY ASPERGER’S BOOK: One Big Change

An illustration of my experiences at school and elsewhere: me being alone and left out. A least, I’ve often felt this way, in the past and even now. Photo courtesy of anxiety.org

 

I reckon it’s high time to update everyone on the progress of the book I’ve been working on detailing my experiences having Asperger’s Syndrome in a non-autistic world, as it has been a while since I’ve done so.

I have started editing and rewriting my manuscript in earnest, as I’m going to take at least one day per week this summer (and beyond) doing so.

Quite a bit of the book will look different from what has been in it before as I plan to change a lot of paragraphs, cut out some things, even possibly remove a whole chapter as I’d like to make the book more precise and to the point; something where the reader won’t get bored.

Which I know is what all writers do when working on their manuscript, the only difference being that rather than have someone else do the editing and telling me what to rewrite like they’re some superior person, I’m doing it myself.

Like I have stated before,

“No one knows my book more than me.”

I firmly believe that if some editor goes through what I’m writing and tells me how this part sucks and that part needs to go, it would cease to be my book and become his or her book.

Which is what I definitely do not want.

In fact (I know I’ve said this before, too), I would rather fail at this endeavor doing it completely on my own than to have this page turner sell a million copies and its movie rights sold for a gazillion dollars while having some editor take over the whole process, telling me what to write and what not to write.

At least if this tome ultimately doesn’t work out, I’ll be OK with the fact that it was all my doing and no one else’s.

 

Oh yeah, about that big change…

I have made it official:

I’ve changed the name of my book from “MY ASPIE LIFE” to “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”.

Here’s why…

“WALKING ON EGGSHELLS” fits in better to what my life as someone on the Autism Spectrum Disorder has been like.

And continues to be like as every time I interact with people, whether I’m out in public or at home, I feel I’m doing what my new book title says – walking on eggshells to make sure I don’t make any social mistakes or faux-pas, particularly of the verbal kind as there are times when I get the urge to say something completely inappropriate and rude, but don’t say it.

For instance, when the phone rings while I’m working on the computer during the day, I often get an urge to answer it and yell, “Go away!”

But I don’t do that, letting the answering machine pick up because I like to think I’m smart enough to not behave so boorishly.

That is also the reason I work at home and have been doing so for the past few years, as I realized that being in a traditional workplace setting, when I have to interact with different people in an appropriate manner throughout the day and every day, is quite draining for me.

Which contributed to me not lasting for too long at any one job.

That’s what I mean by “walking on eggshells”.

And that phrase, I think, will make my book a bit more attractive to whoever is inclined to read about someone on the autism spectrum.

 

As for my target date for finishing and self-publishing “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”,

That hasn’t changed – I want my book to be done by my 50th birthday, which is almost exactly a year from now as of this post.

I think it would be most fitting to have it available by that time.

As always, hold good thoughts for me as I get busy on this.

 

My feelings exactly with regards to what this caption says; at least too many people have no idea. Image courtesy of ota1622011.blogspot.com

 

LIVING WITH ASPERGER’S: Noises That Are Soothing and That Drive Me Crazy

A very good quote on the bottom of this picture, which is why I decided to use it here. Image courtesy of henryharveybooks.com

 

I once heard someone say that if you have met one person with Asperger’s Syndrome, or Autism Spectrum Disorder, then you’ve met one person with Asperger’s or ASD.

Unlike the old saying “If you’ve met one, you’ve met them all”.

One aspect of this condition that seems to be common in many folks on the Autism spectrum is a sensitivity to certain noises.

Being an “Aspie” myself, I am no exception to that aspect as there are sounds that make me want to scream in emotional agony and sounds that are completely relaxing and make me want to snuggle under the covers in my bed in comfort.

Let me describe what those noises are, first the ones that I hate:

 

1.  SIRENS

There have been times when I want to rip those wailing things off of fire trucks and police cars, they are so loud to the point of inducing an inner fury.

Being that there are a couple of fire stations not far from where I live, I hear sirens periodically, an average of once or twice per week to my estimate.

I understand that they are inevitable, and I also know that one doesn’t have to be on the autism spectrum to hate those sounds as I have heard neurotypicals (those without ASD) complain about them, too.

But that doesn’t change the fact that they bother the heck out of me, a level of 15 on a scale of one to ten.

2.  CAR ALARMS

I live in a complex which is designed so that the parking spaces are below the homes.

Which means that I hear those annoying alarms from cars from time to time.

Put it this way:

Whenever I go downstairs to our complex’s parking area, I make sure that I make no loud noises so as to not trigger those alarms, they bother me so much.

Thankfully they don’t last too long, but it doesn’t change my urge to yell, “Shut those d*** things off!”

3.  DOGS BARKING

It’s the reason why I am a cat person, as incessant barking drives me absolutely nuts.

I have two examples of this…

• A few years ago, a group of folks with a dog moved next door to my house. They would park that dog on the patio right above my bedroom every day, and it would bark incessantly whenever the owners were out, which was frequently, including at night. I was so annoyed that it got to the point where I submitted a formal complaint to the manager of the complex asking to intervene. The dog and its owners moved away soon after.
•  A couple of years later, there was loud barking from a German Shepherd (known barkers, which is why they are preferred by the police) who was perched on a patio across the way from my bedroom. This would start at roughly 3:00 p.m. every day and would make me want to scream in emotional agony. This situation had a more satisfying ending, however, as after explaining to the dog’s owner about my condition and how it made me noise sensitive to things like barking dogs, it was moved to another part of the house.

I know that there are non-austistics that hate dogs that bark loudly and incessantly, but my intolerance to that noise is pronounced. I think that’s the difference between someone with Asperger’s and someone who doesn’t have it.

4.  BABIES AND TODDLERS CRYING

Much like dogs barking, it’s a significant factor of me not wanting children as although I like kids – I wouldn’t have worked with them as a P.E. teacher, a sports coach, and a tutor for two and a half decades if I didn’t – and think babies are adorably cute, I know I couldn’t have one of my own because I couldn’t handle things that small children do like cry loudly and incessantly and throw temper tantrums.

As I have always said, parenting is not for everyone.

 

I’ve always like open spaces like this meadow, as it gives off a similar relaxing feeling in me as the sounds listed below. Photo courtesy of atozallnews.blogspot.co.uk

 

 

All right, let me flip this and list the sounds and noises that I enjoy…

1.  JETS/PLANES/HELICOPTERS

Looking back, I realized that I liked planes flying overhead when as a young kid living near an air force base, I would lay in my bed and experience feelings of comfort and coziness whenever a jet would fly by.

That hasn’t changed forty-something years later as the sounds of planes and helicopters induces relaxing feelings, to the point where they would help me sleep if those sounds came late at night.

Those same feelings come whenever I would hear these other sounds…

2. RAIN

The harder the rain, the better.

Which I suppose would make me a good fit for living in Seattle, or Portland, or anywhere else in the Pacific Northwest.

3. WIND

See rain, as in the harder, the better.

Though I wouldn’t want to experience a category 5, Katrina-like hurricane or a tornado, as I have something against getting killed by flying debris or by having one of those EF-5 monster funnel clouds throwing me several miles.

Putting it another way, with all due respect to those regions I would not be a good fit for the Midwest, the Gulf Coast, or Florida.

And I suppose people in those areas wouldn’t think they’d be a good fit for California due to the threat of earthquakes, so it all balances out.

4. THUNDER

For the same reasons as the first three noises mentioned.

Though I know full well that I’m unique in this preference as many if not most folks hate thunder and feel threatened by it.

I, however, get a relaxing feeling from it, particularly when I’m in bed at night or in the early morning.

I always find myself counting “one-one thousand, two-one-thousand…” after a thunder boom to find out how far the accompanying lightning is; the longer you count, the farther the lightning is, which is a good tip for being safe in a big storm.

 

Well, that’s one aspie’s specific noise sensitivities.

If anyone on the Autism Spectrum Disorder, whether he/she has Asperger’s or full-blown autism, is reading this, I wonder what is yours?

 

 

I really like this quote from the guy whom Asperger’s Syndrome was named after in 1944; it’s quite eloquent. Image courtesy of blog.southeastpsych.com

 

Fighting Depression: From The Perspective of Someone With Asperger’s

I like this photo of the clouds, and I love this quote, which describes depression perfectly. Image courtesy of compassinsurance.net

 

“The older I get, the more stupid I feel,

I don’t know what’s going on…

The harder I try, the less people I please.”

– Joe Jackson, “Flying” (1994)

 

I’ve always considered this as one of my all-time favorite songs, because the lyrics describe me and my feelings about my life and life in general perfectly.

I once heard – or read somewhere, I don’t recall – that depression is a trait to those with Asperger’s.

In my case, it creeps up periodically, like it did recently when I simply felt burned out and took a break in the public activities that I usually partake in, choosing to stay home and, save for my online work on my sports fan blog/site, basically vegetate.

Depression has been an issue for what I estimate as three-fourths of my life; I remember not going to school, staying home for a few days at a time due to feeling overwhelmed and socially rejected, in both the sixth grade (due to bullying) and the tenth grade (due to the harshness of being new to high school).

And wanting to commit suicide more than once over the course of my adult life; being that I don’t want to alarm anyone I won’t go into any details.

Even though I’m better now thanks to God, I still have to combat feelings of depression and suicide from time to time as every time someone says or does something to me that causes me to feel oppressed or rejected (again, without mentioning any specific details) invokes those feelings.

I know that more or less everyone has those feelings from time to time, but in my case I’m convinced that the root of this negativity inside me stem from one specific thing…

Having Asperger’s Syndrome – or high-functioning Autism Spectrum Disorder as it’s called these days – in a neurotypical (non-disabled) world.

This ASD of mine is likewise a root cause of me feeling like I am walking on eggshells every time I go out in public, which can and does induce burn-out in me to the point where I have no desire to interact with people, for their sake as well as mine.

To try to interact with folks and peers while in this state often invites inappropriate behaviors and social disasters; I want to spare people from that.

That was recently the case, as I didn’t show up to a couple of functions that I usually attend.

In fact, I’m strongly considering renaming the book I’ve been working on describing my life with Asperger’s, “MY ASPIE LIFE”, to “WALKING ON EGG SHELLS” as that has described my life so well ever since I was mainstreamed in school for the first time over forty years ago.

I could also accurately call my book “LEFT BEHIND”, as so many things that my peers have experienced and are experiencing in their/our late forties have eluded me.

I know full well that it shouldn’t matter and that I shouldn’t compare myself to anyone, which I agree with.

But it’s still difficult to see folks that have things that adults commonly have that I don’t have (without any specifics), which I feel has put a concrete wall between me and them.

And which is also the reason why, while I don’t consider myself second class to anyone, I’ll always feel that it’s those differences, stemming from the fact that I’m an aspie and they’re not, that will always be the cause of at least a little alienation, isolation, and discomfort in both directions; other people towards me as well as me towards others.

It’s an ongoing battle and will always be one, these feelings of depression and alienation stemming from being an aspie in a non-aspie world.

As well as feeling that no one really needs me; like Peeta Mellark said to Katniss Everdeen in “The Hunger Games: Catching Fire” when he was talking about how his family would mourn him for a bit if he died, then move on.

But hey, at least I’m still here.

Thanks to God.

 

I know how this guy feels, because I feel like this more often than I should. Photo courtesy of wrestlersmom.com