LEFT BEHIND: A Middle Aged “Aspie”on the Autism Spectrum

LAMENTATIONS OF A FIFTY-SOMETHING YEAR OLD HIGH-FUNCTIONING AUTISTIC

Though I already knew it in my head,

I recently realized in my heart that I’m a little more than halfway to the ripe sort-of-old age of sixty.

While having been on the Autism Spectrum – Asperger’s to be exact (or that’s what it used to be called according to what I’ve heard)

I want to emphasize that this is not intended to be a “woe is me” type of post as on the grander scheme of things, I have to say that my life has been pretty okay;

• I have a roof over my head
• I have food to eat
• I have a decent bed to sleep in
• I have electricity and hot running water
• I live in a decent neighborhood with no gangs, drug dealing or serious crime
• I have a bachelor’s degree from a prestigious university and was in the workforce for over twenty years
• I wrote a book detailing my experiences with living in the mainstream while being on the spectrum called WALKING ON EGGSHELLS: Living With Asperger’s Syndrome in a Non-Asperger’s World (available on Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com)
• I currently have two blogs, a sports blog called SoCal Sports Chronicles (http://www.socalsportschronicles.wordpress.com) and this one, which I have had for eight and going on nine years, repectively

and…

• Though I have high blood pressure and am overweight to the point of some concern, due to a regular fitness regimen I can say that I’m in relatively okay health.

Particularly with the roof over my head and food to eat, that’s something that I’m definitely thankful to God for considering the homeless epidemic in my hometown of Los Angeles in particular, the number of homeless camps that I often see, and the increasing encounters with panhandlers while I’m out and about;

By the way, I always buy them food and (especially) water from whatever eatery (supermarket, fast food place) that I’m nearby whenever I’m asked for spare change, which guarantees that the money I spend on them – which is more than I would part with if I simply gave them cash – does some good.

Yes, I can safely say that I’ve been blessed in this life – again, all thanks to God!

Something that needs to be required for EVERYONE when it comes to those on the autism spectrum…

HOWEVER,

As I go through my mid-fifties and begin to see my sixtieth birthday around the corner,

I have had unhappy thoughts about, well…

Being left behind in life compared to my peers and the people I grew up with and knew in my formidable years.

This is especially evident when I go on Facebook and see posts of friends and acquaintances,

Some of them going back to the mid-to-late 1970s,

With pictures of not only their spouses and kids, with many of them not being such kids anymore,

But with their grandchildren as well.

Seeing so many people I know enjoying the good life with their vacations to spectacuarly scenic places and get togethers with close friends on Facebook,

While the last time I was out of the Los Angeles area for any kind of fun vacation time was twelve years ago,

Likewise induces “left behind” feelings, as for a long time I’ve felt like a kid with no money standing outside a candy store watching other kids buying and eating candy to their hearts’ delight, like Charlie Bucket in the original 1971 children’s classic movie Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

This is what I wanted to ask all those fellow folks on the autism spectrum who may be reading this…

Have you ever felt that you were left behind compared to your peers in what is considered life’s milestones?

Are many, if not most, of your peers married with children and nice houses and a large enough income to be able to live a (relatively) good life, while you’re not?

I’m asking this because I have felt left behind compared to my peers for a long time,

Ever since high school when I failed my written driver’s test more than once while seemingly everyone else passed their tests with flying colors and were practically rolling in their cars the next day.

As well as being forced to go to the prom with a fixed up date due to no one wanting to go with me,

Who clearly gave off a “I’m going with such a goofy mark!” vibe while seemingly everyone else was having a grand and glorious time with their significant others as nearly forty years later, I still feel that I should have never gone to that senior prom.

Those are only a couple of examples of my feeling/being left behind in life, as if I listed every instance of being such this post would be extremely long.

I KNOW, I KNOW…

I shouldn’t compare myself with others and be happy with the blessings that God gave me, which I know he has given.

And as I’ve said, I’m not crying or screaming “Woe is me!” over this, nor am I intending to do such;

Don’t worry about me, I’m not going to do anything crazy to myself.

But sometimes I just can’t help those thoughts of being left behind.

And sometimes I just can’t help wishing I was in that “candy shop”, so to speak.

I’m pretty sure it’s all due to having been in the mainstream in school and beyond with neurotypicals since age six.

All right,

I think I’ve done enough rambling.

If there’s anyone out there on the spectrum who, like me, has felt left behind in society and in life in general,

Please don’t keep it a secret – feel free to let me know in the comments!

Regarding people on the autism spectrum, I couldn’t have said this better!

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…

ANOTHER IDEA I HAVE FOR WRITING MY NEXT BOOK

Photo courtesy of praxiscenterforaestheticstudies.com

I HAVE SOMETHING TO ADMIT…

I have not started working on my next book at all.

I haven’t even written any outlines whatsoever.

Not word one.

Basically because of life in general and being busy with that;

I haven’t really found the time to sit down for a significant length of such and do an outline and background of the characters and scene, as it requires lots of time at one setting for that.

That doesn’t mean that my mind hasn’t had ideas, however;

Remember when I mentioned how two of my ideas for a second book were,

• A guy on the autism spectrum who’s simply a social failure in the neurotypical mainstream world who finds out about a place made for people on the spectrum, goes there, and is not only accepted, but flourishes, and…
• A futuristic story about America being embroiled in a Second Civil War based on political, social, and cultural philosophies and views, i.e., liberal, “Black Lives Matter” types vs far right wing conservative supporters of the former President-Whose-Name-I-Do-Not-Mention-On-This-Blog

Well,

When I go to bed at night, to help me go to sleep I create stories and scenarios in my head; essentially telling myself bedtime stories that I imagine.

Lately I’ve had this scenario/outline of a story pop into my gray matter as I try to wind down and sleep…

In a not-that-distant future, the United States, realizing once and for all that the polarization and pronounced animosity between liberals and conservatives is too overwhelming for the country to ever unify, ends and partitions itself into three separate countries, the liberal factions taking the Northeast and West Coast while the South, Midwest, and much of the Rockies go to the conservatives.

In the conservative nation, which I have an idea to call it the Columbian States of America, the clock is pretty much turned back 100 years as far as issues pertaining to race, gender, class, and socioeconomic status as the saying “He who is a conservative and has the gold, rules” rules the day with its one party status; meaning abortion, unions, and equal rights for anyone who isn’t white, wealthy and male are more or less non-existent as even the moderate conservatives are lacking of rights.

Meanwhile, the liberal countries – I’m calling the West Coast nation the Republic of Pacifica while I’m not sure what to call the northeast country yet – are likewise a one-party nation but are not free of problems and issues; crime, drug abuse, extremely high taxes and prices to things like gas and housing, homelessness, and general lack of funding and red tape blocking anything significant from getting accomplished.

Those scenarios, at least for now, set up the story, which is this:

A young African-American male in his 20s from the conservative nation, who is on the spectrum, is in a really terrible state;

He’s getting treated very badly by too many people because of the color of his skin as segregation, harassment by law enforcement and other authorities, denial of services like being refused service in stores due to color, ethnicity and/or gender, legalization and encouragement of people of color being called racial epithets, including blacks being called the “N” word, and (not literal, but virtual in the form of various programs reminiscent of the sharecropping era) slavery has been re-established in many parts of that new right wing country.

Not only that, he’s not being treated too well by his fellow Blacks either due to his being on the spectrum and behaving in a way that is seen by too many as strange, resulting in him being bullied, taken advantage of, and being called a “Goofy Mark” for the bulk of his life.

In fact, he doesn’t have any real friends, or anyone who really cares about him, at all.

His family is dead (I’m not yet sure how), and he’s at the very end of his rope to the point where he tries suicide after trying to get a job and not only being called the “N” word as he gets turned down, he gets chased by bigoted thugs who want to hurt him if not outright kill him.

After he escapes the bigots, that’s the last straw for him as he finds a bridge to jump off of when he hears someone get his attention, asking for help.

A prominent tool of my writing trade. Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com

It’s a young, olive-skinned, dark-haired, mixed ethnic-type lady who tells him of a place where he can go and feel safe and flourish; not in the Republic of Pacifica or the northeast country, but somewhere far north in what’s known as Canada.

They set off, walking, taking buses and trains, and hiding in various places reminiscent of the Underground Railroad of the pre-Civil War 1800s, seeing all kinds of spectacular scenery while not only becoming friends, but growing closer on the way to becoming more than friends, especially after the young lady sees him doing some very nice things like feeding some stray animals.

As they get closer to their destination, the guy, while sleeping in their shared tent, wakes up and sees the lady praying for food (they are running out) and suddenly beginning to shine in a very bright light while an abundance of food appears.

The young lady, now decked in a bright white robe, turns out to be an angel who was sent to look after him on their journey as she tells him,

“Now you know what I am.”

When they reach their destination, a town where there is incredibly no crime, racism, or any of the ills of society whatsoever where it turns out that the town is run by angels like the young lady.

“No, this is not Heaven,” the young lady tells him when he asks, “But it’s pretty close as it’s just a tiny hint of what Heaven is like.”

The biggest twist in this story idea is the fact that the young man and the angel fall completely in love, even going on what turns out to be a wonderful date that solidifies in concrete how they feel for each other, but of course the angel is not allowed to be with him and she’s very upset about that, telling her fellow angels “I love him!” as she sheds tears.

Finally, she’s given a choice;

• She can be with the young man, but she has to give up being an angel and become human
• She can remain an angel, but she has to return to Heaven and can never see the guy again – at least until he dies, and even then they can never be a couple

When she tells the young man of her options, he tells her,

“I’ll make up your mind for you; I can’t let you give up being what you are just to be with me. I’m not important enough or worthy enough for that.”

So they split up amongst tears, a big hug, and her kissing him on his cheek.

But a few days later, he hears a knock on his door.

It’s the angel, who tells him with a smile, “It’s not your decision!” as she not only kisses and hugs him in complete happiness, she produces a ring and asks him to marry her, saying that his humility in telling her to not be with him because he didn’t feel that he was worthy tipped the scales.

Which of course he accepts, her telling him that she can remain an angel after she was so sad after returning to Heaven, God telling her, “I want you to be happy,” in letting her be with him, also informing her that she is still needed as an angel.

At the wedding reception, someone brings news of a devastating Second Civil War that destroys all three countries in the former U.S., the young man, although sad at that development, thanking God for blessing him to be where he is and for his now-wife.

And of course they both live, proverbially speaking, “Happily Ever After”.

You know what?

I think I have just written a first draft – a VERY ROUGH first draft – of my story outline!

But in stating the obvious, that’s all that I have for now as this is still a very, VERY rough idea whose details can well change.

It’s all a matter of finding the time to sit down and really work on this outline, story background, and the development of the characters.

I’m convinced this idea comes from the fact that since I’ve never been in any kind of romantic relationship in real life, I’ll create one in book form as the young man is kind of (but not completely) based on me.

I’m very much interested in finding out what everyone thinks of this idea for my next book.

Please let me know in the comments…

What the first draft of my for book, “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”, looked like (sort of). Photo courtesy of hayimoshkyblog.com

ASPERGER’S RECKONINGS: What If I Were Never Mainstreamed Into The Neurotypical Community?

I like this illustration, showing how Asperger’s and Autism are essentially fusioned together. Photo courtesy of spectrumnews.org

 

Recently I was lying in my bed, randomly thinking about different things, when a particular thought popped into my head, a thought that had entered my head quite a few times…

 

What if, as a person on the high-functioning end of the autistic spectrum disorder (Asperger’s Syndrome to be precise), I were never put into the mainstream community at age six?

What if, as opposed to being put into a regular classroom from the first grade on, I stayed in special education?

How would my life had turned out?

What would my life be like today?

 

As detailed in my book, “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS” – which is coming out soon, it’s just a matter of finding the time to start the process on Lulu.com – I spent kindergarten in what was then called a “Special Day Class”, in the days when the concept of special ed was so new, it wouldn’t be made law until 1975, three years after my time in that SDC classroom.

My memories of that special day class were not fond ones, due to being whacked by rulers and put into closets for various infractions as part of a behavior modification program; details of such are featured in “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”.

However, the harsh methods that were used apparently had a good effect, because at the end of that school year the powers that be determined that I had progressed to the point where they felt I would be able to be mainstreamed into a regular classroom for first grade, which is exactly what happened.

Though I continued to behave like an animal at times, my grades were such that I apparently wasn’t seriously considered to be returned to special ed, as I never saw the inside of a special education classroom again.

After 18 years (including college) of being in the educational mainstream and roughly two decades of being in the mainstream workforce, socially and otherwise, I have wondered what my life would be like today if I had stayed in a special education program until age 22, and never saw a regular classroom.

 

 

I like this image! Courtesy of bloomfieldpsychology.com.au

 

 

Here they are – keep in mind that these are strictly my opinions:

1.  Though I would have been able to attend a two-year community college, as many people on the spectrum are, I wouldn’t have been able to go to, and get a degree from, UCLA.

2. I believe I would have had a limited social life, as my only peers would have been people on the spectrum, mostly guys as males outnumber females in that population by an average of five to one.

In other words, though I wouldn’t have been shunned and bullied the way I was, I think I would have been essentially, for lack of a better term, segregated and Jim-Crowed into a community strictly consisting of folks like me, plus teachers and supervisors and the like.

Which would have left me feeling extremely bored and restricted while wearing a permanent strait jacket, as I would have felt that in too many ways, the neurotypical world would have been closed to me.

3. I would have probably been in one of those adult programs, where they take groups of folks on the spectrum and with other developmental disabilities field trips to the library and various other places. I would see these groups, which includes people around my age (early 50s) and older from time to time at my local library reading magazines and surfing the internet on the computers and think one prevailing thought:

“For many if not all of those kids in special ed right now, that’s where they’ll end up.”

4. I believe I would have also probably, at best, been in some type of (so-called) menial labor job set up by my adults with disabilities program, doing janitor-type work in an office, picking up trash on the roadside, taking orders at a fast food restaurant or at a coffee-house or – as two developmentally disabled guys are doing right now at a Ralph’s across the street from my house, one of them for around twenty years – working at a supermarket pushing a broom down the aisles and collecting shopping baskets from the parking lot.

I hope no one thinks I’m denigrating that type of work or that I’m implying that such jobs are low-class crap and beneath me, because nothing can be further from the truth.

I’m sure that all those autistic folks pushing brooms, making mocha lattes, and cleaning up supermarket aisles are as happy as clams in mud. I know that there is dignity in all kinds of work.

But though there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being a janitor or a fast food worker, I would not be happy doing such.

And I’ve always felt that the best kind of jobs are those that make you happy.

By the way, I’m fully aware that many people on the spectrum are doing things like owning their own businesses and are embarking on many professional careers today.

Unfortunately, those options were not nearly as available in the 1970s through the bulk of the 1980s, the time when I was in school.

 

 

A comparison between an aspie brain and a non-aspie brain. Image courtesy of quora.com

 

 

OK, I’ve written a lot here; let me sum up…

It’s safe to say that my life would have been a lot different if I had not been mainstreamed into a regular classroom in the fall of 1973.

In some ways, my life has been better by being mainstreamed; I have been able to do things that I wouldn’t have been able to do otherwise.

But in other ways, I wouldn’t have been bullied, shunned and misunderstood nearly as much had I stayed in the special needs community.

I wouldn’t have had such a socially volatile experience in school, especially high school, and wouldn’t have had (seemingly) so many of my peers dislike me, reject me, misunderstand me, or a combination of such.

I wouldn’t have had such a checkered life in the workforce, my social issues that were caused by my being an aspie being partially responsible for being either fired or forced to quit 12 jobs in a 17-year span, with three years being the longest I have lasted in one place of employment.

And I might even have had a spouse, like that couple who’s about to get married in the A&E reality show Born This Way.

Please don’t misunderstand me – I’m okay with how my life has turned out, and am quite grateful for all my fortunes and blessings.

But there are times where I just can’t help wondering how things would have turned out for me if I wasn’t mainstreamed as a little boy with a wild afro.

And I’ll probably continue to wonder such.

That’s all I’m saying.

 

The symbol for the autism rights movement. Image courtesy of en.wikipedia.org

 

 

Just A Few Random Ponderings That Have Been On My Mind

A prominent sign of the times in this day and age. Photo courtesy of national review.com

 

Here’s the number one pondering, among quite a few ponderings, that has been kept in my mind for quite some time…

1. Why do white, far right conservatives have seemingly such contempt for people who don’t look and think like them – liberals, African-Americans, Latinos, LGBTQs, women with progressive views, people who believe in a woman’s right to choose, anyone who’s not Christian (not just Muslims), and anyone who’s less fortunate?

And here are some other ponderings…

2. Why do far right conservatives have such an animosity against the government – or anyone else – helping those who fell down on their luck through no fault of their own, who (for example) due to a layoff was forced to become homeless?

3. Why do far right conservatives hate anyone from Latin America coming north to try to better their lives – or hate anyone brown-skinned or Spanish-speaking, period? I’ll bet anything if those so-called “illegals” were flocking from Scandinavia, they’d be welcomed with open arms.

4. Why do far right conservatives see anyone not like them as needing to be kept “in their place”, and would seemingly like nothing better than a return to the Jim Crow, segregation laws and a lack of equal rights for anyone not white, Christian, male, conservative, wealthy, or straight (or a combination of those six attributes) that plagued this country for over 100 years?

5 Why do far right conservatives see anyone who doesn’t look like them (like me, being a black man of African descent and all) as inferior beings?

 

 

Isn’t this a CUTE picture of preschool kids of different races? Photo courtesy of carwad.net

 

 

Being someone on the Autism Spectrum Disorder, I have a few ponderings regarding that topic, too…

6. Why does it seem that people on the spectrum are “the last oppressed minority” in regards with such a high percentage of them being unemployed and otherwise not accepted or understood by “mainstream” society?

7. To be brutally honest, considering my social struggles with having Asperger’s throughout my life, I have wondered why I was born with that gene that has caused me to behave like an animal in my early childhood and has caused other difficulties like being understood and accepted at school and (particularly) in the workforce?

8. Why does life have to be so seemingly hard for me sometimes while it seems easier (I’m not saying easy, I know everyone has had some kind of struggles) for those around me?

9. Why does it seem like it’s the world’s mission to make sure you’re kept down and unable to succeed, with those succeeding in life doing so at a seemingly huge price?

10. Why does it seem to be human nature to bully as children, as I was? Why can’t people be nothing but nice instead of causing nothing but misery?

11. Why do the rich always seem to get richer, and the poor always seem to get poorer?

And one last pondering…

12. Why do so many people not seem to care that in roughly 100 years, much of the planet will be under water (global warming), or that a large part of the planet’s population may be wiped out because of countries like North Korea (nuclear missiles), or that at this rate, within (in my estimate) ten to twenty years, this country may well be embroiled in a second Civil War between liberals and conservatives and the “Blue” states and the “Red” states, if not an all-out race war between the “alt-right” and people of color and their white progressive allies?

 

These are just ramblings, I’m aware of that.

But that hasn’t stopped them from being on my mind.

Al I can do is to pray and count on God that He’ll straighten things out and work out all these bad things for good.

One particular quote is prominent in my mind as I end this post…

 

“Why must we go on hating? Why can’t we live in bliss?”

– Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam), from “Peace Train” (1971)

 

 

I really like this picture of a dove bring an olive branch to this planet; it’s what I and every decent person wants. Image courtesy of scross.co.za

 

 

 

PERIODIC BURNOUT: How I Deal With Feeling Overwhelmed With A Touch of PTSD

For various periods throughout my life, I’ve felt like this man here. Photo courtesy of positivepsychologyprogram.com

 

ONE GUY’S VENTING, OR NEEDING TO VENT

Last week, starting on July 31st to be precise, I took a vacation of sorts.

I severely reduced my going online and usage of the internet, particularly for duties regarding to my sports blog, http://www.SoCalSportsAnnals.Wordpress.com,

Which included keeping up with scores & highlights of the local Los Angeles teams on the site’s Facebook and Twitter pages as well as making sure that at least one or two posts appear on the site and those two pages every week.

The reasons? There’s actually more than one:

• I was simply feeling burned out and overwhelmed, especially since I spent SO much time attending various baseball and softball games (plus a high school girls’ lacrosse game) in the L.A. area and writing about those experiences this spring – but more important…
• I was growing a little depressed over the fact that the seemingly so few people were reading the articles from SoCal Sports Annals – and (more so!) this blog – that I posted on Facebook and Twitter; the articles from this blog in particular have been getting SO few reads that it led me to think that people didn’t care, that I was wasting my time.

This has happened every so often throughout my life.

I remember during sixth grade, a year that was so terrible socially for me that for roughly a week I stayed home and avoided going to school because of all the bullying that was being put upon me.

Which was definitely due to my having Asperger’s and being on the autistic spectrum, in the neurotypical world, I know now, though no one had heard of Asperger’s in 1979, when this was all happening.

A similar thing happened to me four years later, in tenth grade, during the first few weeks of high school when I felt that I was being so mistreated by the people in the marching band which I had just joined, me staying  home for a few days.

These feelings of rejection, ostracization and the negative connotations that come from being bullied during those formative years,

As well as oftentimes feeling like I was treated as a glorified slave by a overseer-like supervisor in too many of the various jobs that I had over my roughly 25 years in the workforce.

Would sometimes induce bouts of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, when all of a sudden bad memories of people hating on me and various other bad traumatic incidents would pop into my head; it was all I could do to avoid screaming “NO!!” at the top of my lungs, trying to get those traumatic memories out of my mind.

Memories of feeling ignored in social situations would likewise induce this PTSD, like after people would greet me I would be ignored.

In this particular case, it was a combination of seemingly no one reading the articles and videos that I would post on social media from this blogs and SoCal Sport Annals that led me to post on my personal Facebook page and my sports blog’s Twitter page that I was taking a break.

It worked, I suppose, as I’m sitting here writing this right now.

But I can’t help wondering how many folks will take the time to read this, whether the number of people reading this post will even get into the double digits.

In other words, though I have no plans of ending this blog, my asking myself if I’m wasting my time  will never really go away.

Before I go on…

I want to emphasize that it’s NOT my intention to paint myself in a whiny, “Woe Is Me” fashion, trying to get sympathy.

And I’m not trying to pin this all on my having Asperger’s in a non-aspie world, though that was the most significant factor in sometimes – too many times, in my opinion – being treated as badly as I was in my youth and for quite a bit of my adulthood (I’m fully aware that plenty of neurotypicals have felt burned out, overwhelmed, and depressed,  by the way).

I’m simply telling my story and expressing my thoughts.

I know that any of my fellow aspies who were mainstreamed into school and the workforce in the days before awareness of this part of the spectrum, like I was, can most likely relate to what I’m saying on this post.

While I feel better as of this moment, though I’d love to say that this depression, PTSD, and feeling overwhelmed and burned out on life in general will never happen again,

I would be lying, because one can’t predict the future.

The best thing I can do, now that I’m back to doing my online work, is to make changes that will help avoid another burnout episode, such as not go online at night following teams – expect on very special occasions – like I have done the past couple of years.

And to take more breaks from the computer, like not go online on Sundays – that was my plan a while ago, but it didn’t work out that way. Now I’m determined to take that Sunday break.

It’s changes like that that I think will help me.

Hold good thoughts…

 

Largely due to being an aspie among non-aspies, I’ve had bouts of this, and unfortunately continue to feel this way , like no one wants anything to do with me, once in a blue moon. Photo courtesy of psychalive.org

 

Why I’m Naming My Book “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”

If I could read this guy’s mind, I’d guess that, like me, he’s completely walking on eggshells…

 

IT’S A STRAIGHTFORWARD REASONING

I’ll be as cut-and-dry as I can here.

When I decided to change the name of the book describing my (largely bad) experiences with being on the autism spectrum throughout my life to “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS” from the previous name I had for the book, “MY ASPIE LIFE”,

It was for a relatively simple reason…

For as long as I can remember and as long as I have interacted with people and peers at school, work, and everywhere else where social interaction is involved, I have felt like I was walking on eggshells.

Of course I didn’t realize that as a little kid, while behaving like an undisciplined animal at times during my early elementary school days in particular, but I was oftentimes crushing eggshells almost to dust during my single-digit age years.

In fact, I didn’t realize that I was walking on eggshells until well into my time as a technical adult, but that’s what it was.

Every time I went to school or work or hung out with peers, and even to this day, there was a sea of eggshells to negotiate, the only difference being that now that I’m in my fifties, I know I have eggshells to negotiate and gear myself up to behave accordingly every time I go out for whatever reason.

Which as someone with Asperger’s can be quite exhausting, so much so that there have been, still are, and will likely always be a need to be completely left alone after being out and about to decompress.

School, college, and work for me was a pronounced example of me having to walk on eggshells, because I was interacting with people, who in the days when I was in school and college and working for other people had no idea of my being on the spectrum, who more or less didn’t understand my unintentional (emphasis on that word) rudeness and inappropriateness and, in many of those folks’ cases, reacted as expected in the form of ostracization towards me.

Instances of these animosities and ostracization towards me abound in my to-be-published-by-Christmas book, “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”, as looking back, it seems that my life was full of things I did that induced negative reactions among those who I knew, which explained my lack of a lot of real friends – as opposed to acquaintances – during those formative years up though I believe my 20s and roughly half of my 30s.

To put it simply, I was walking on eggshells with orders to not crack them – and miserably failing to do so – pretty much every day and to this day.

With that being the case, how can I possibly not have those three words as the name of my page-turner?

If you want to know about specific details, you’ll have to buy and read my book when it comes out.

After being busy with articles for my sports fan blog, SoCal Sports Annals.com (here’s the link – check it out if you’re into sports at all; I think you’ll like what you see), http://www.socalsportsannals.wordpress.com,

I finally have time this summer to do some final (this time for sure!) editing and to begin the process of self-publishing this tome of mine, which I have been working on for years.

I’ll give an update on my progress in this final stage sometime in August.

Until then…

 

I’ve always wanted to post a picture of someone who’s African-American who also has Asperger’s, being that I’m an Aspie who’s Black. Photo courtesy of youtube.com

 

 

 

CELEBRATING THE 51st: My Annual Birthday Post

While my birthday plans do not include going here, being that I’m about to become this age I thought this would be a cool pic to put on this post. Photo courtesy of komando.com

 

THOUGH MY ACTUAL BIRTHDAY IS NOT FOR FIVE MORE DAYS (as of this writing), I’M GOING AHEAD AND  POSTING MY THOUGHTS ABOUT IT NOW

 

Fifty-one is not fifty.

I’m fully aware of that and the fact that I’m not celebrating a milestone birthday like I did last year.

But that’s OK, because I reckon when one reaches their forties and fifties – and as the years advance, actually – one feels more and more grateful that another year has passed and they are still on this planet.

I certainly feel that way as my 51st birthday approaches this coming Monday; as always, I’m making it an extra special point to give thanks to God for allowing me to see 51 years on this Earth as an African-American male on the Autism Spectrum Disorder as soon as I wake up that morning.

Especially considering the times we are living in right now, with the leader of the free world who-must-not-be-named – remember, I vowed to never write the name of this country’s president on this blog when he was elected – and his “Make America Great Again” cap-wearing worshipers, I mean followers, intentionally trying to induce misery upon anyone who’s not exactly like them (Read: white, male, straight, wealthy, conservative, Christian, or any combination of those six attributes).

All right, enough about you-know-who!

The biggest thought about this upcoming birthday of mine is that on that day in 1978,

Exactly forty years ago to the day,

I undertook something significant that was a big event of my childhood and served as an influence on my life…

I went to Dodger Stadium for the very first time.

Yep, I spent the day I turned eleven watching my very first Major League Baseball game in the form of the Los Angeles Dodgers playing the Montreal Expos (now the Washington Nationals).

However, if you want details about that noteworthy day, sorry. I won’t share those details right here and now.

 

 

A poster detailing all the stuff that happened fifty-one years ago. Image courtesy of flickback.com

 

 

A complete description about spending my 11th birthday at that flagship baseball park will appear on this blog on Monday, my actual birthday, which I think is only appropriate to do.

In other words, I promise to tell all in five days.

For the time being, as far as birthday plans…

I’m definitely NOT planning any kind of big party; last year’s soiree, while enjoyable, was a one-time milestone thing that I have no plans of doing again until I turn 70 or 75 (God Willing).

To be honest, outside of writing about my first Dodger Stadium experience in the morning on this blog and SoCal Sports Annals, my sports fan blog (Here’s the link to that: http://www.socalsportsannals.wordpress.com ),

And eating Mexican food from a place where I have eaten since the mid-1970s along with birthday cake, I am not 100% sure what I’m going to do as of this moment.

But I do plan to enjoy the day, as anyone in that age group and beyond needs to do.

It will feel good to be celebrating another year of life as a black man in America with Asperger’s, as it gives me a feeling of gratitude and survival.

While I’m definitely not trying to tell anyone what to do, anyone in their forties and up who’s on the autism spectrum in particular should feel glad  and thankful every time their birthday approaches.

Why? Because despite any struggles, social or otherwise, that someone on the spectrum may have suffered through, the fact that they’re still here is something to be quite thankful for.

I know I’ll be sure to mention that to God in my prayers.

I also guess that the only thing left to say here is…

Happy Birthday To Me (five days early).

I hope it’s a good one.

And it goes without saying that I hope and pray to have many more birthdays before I’m through.

 

 

I don’t think I’m a limited edition, but I do like this picture. Image courtesy of teepublic.com

 

 

Another Particular Thought Regarding My Being Of Middle Age

The prefect quote concerning this issue. Image courtesy of plusquoter.com

 

 

There’s a song from 2003 by a guy named Joe Jackson, a true musician – unlike so many people in pop music today who wouldn’t dream of playing their own instruments and can’t perform without twenty backup dancers and a state of the art system that lets them lip sync to their voice on stage – I’ve been a fan of for decades, called “Awkward Age”.

He’s talking to a teenager in the song, trying to cheer him up for the typical awkwardness that’s common to adolescents, but it’s the second part of the tune that describes me very well now that I’m in my fifties.

Here are those lyrics…

 

You look at me like I know what’s going on

I’m looking back and I wonder what went wrong

I really thought by now a few things might just clarify

I got a mind that goes out to lunch for days

And a body that sometimes disobeys

I get into the parties but I hate them because I’m shy

Oh my,

I’m still at an awkward age

 

Although I make it a pronounced point to exercise every week, doing cardio and weightlifting as well as play pick-up softball on the weekends, and eat healthier than I did in the past (I officially gave up red meat last December), I’m not sure if any other verse of lyrics better describes me and my growing state more.

 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p51Fgm1m6V0

Joe Jackson’s song, “Awkward Age”, from the 2003 album Volume 4. Courtesy of YouTube (click on the link).

 

 

As for the parties, last year’s 50th birthday shindig notwithstanding as that was a once-in-a-lifetime necessary exception (until perhaps and God Willing my 70th or 75th birthday – we’ll see), I completely concur with Joe in that while I don’t exactly hate them, I have a certain level of discomfort with them due to the feeling of having to walk on eggshells, stemming from my being on the high-functioning end of the autism spectrum – Asperger’s Syndrome to be precise.

If there’s any fifty-something that’s still at an awkward age, it’s definitely me.

I reckon that I’m not alone in this sentiment, as it would be quite selfish of me to see things that way.

I’d like to hear from others who feel like they’re still at an “awkward age” so many years after their adolescent days.

If you fit into that description, don’t keep it a secret!

Feel free to comment below…

 

REGARDING THE ABOVE QUOTE: This happens to me all the time. Image courtesy of theodysseyonline.com

 

 

 

 

A Few New Thoughts of Having Asperger’s In Middle Age

Photo courtesy of sidebysidecoaching.co.uk

 

VARIOUS MUSINGS REGARDING BEING AN ASPIE IN MY FIFTIES

These days, regarding people who are on the autism spectrum, particularly of the high-functioning kind and namely those with Asperger’s Syndrome,

There are an embarrassment of riches as far as services, programs and support for Aspies who are children and young adults in the form of:

• Non-public schools geared toward that population – I know, I used to work at one
• Various services such as counseling and support groups, and…
• Programs that aim toward those aspies and others on the spectrum after the age of 22 (when Special Education and services & programs for those ages 3-22 end) gain independence in the form of jobs and “leaving the nest”, as in moving away from parents and getting an apartment

The other day a thought came to me…

What about those on the spectrum who are middle-aged and happen to be high functioning, like me?

Last year saw my fiftieth birthday, and as I am officially, by American standards, considered to be of middle age,

With me having high functioning Asperger’s, outside of meet-up groups I haven’t seen any support stuff geared toward aspies in my age group.

Besides those meet-up groups, the only thing I’ve seen among the developmentally disabled where the people are anywhere near my age is programs for lower-functioning groups; I’ve seen them from time to time when I take trips to the library, going online and reading books and magazines.

As for those meet-up groups – I know what quite a few of you are probably saying right now…

“Why don’t you check those groups out? Give them a chance?”

As much as I regret saying this, when I did sign up online for one of those groups in the Los Angeles, CA area, where I live,

Not only did their meet-up days and times not mesh with my schedule, I (to be brutally honest) simply didn’t feel comfortable enough to make any kind of commitments.

The reason for that discomfort?

One word: MAINSTREAMING.

 

This reminds me of myself when I’m out and about, only no backwards cap and the fact that I’m much bigger. Photo courtesy of wypr.org

 

 

After spending kindergarten in a special ed program – called a “Special Day Class”  in those days – due to my sometimes animal-like behavior stemming from my aspieness at that young age – the powers that be determined that I had progressed enough to the point where I could be mainstreamed into a regular class for first grade.

Especially when they found that I could do the academic work fairly easily, as though my behavior needed modifying my reading (I began to read at age two-and-a half), writing, and math skills were considered to be very good, par for the course for many aspies.

To make a long story short, from age six all the way to high school graduation, I never set foot in a special education class, even finding myself in gifted classes a few of those years.

Which unfortunately left myself feeling uncomfortable with those who were in the special ed classes, and – as much as I hate to say it – even when I taught physical education at a non-public, special ed school roughly fifteen years ago as in one particular instance, a co-worker who was clearly on the syndrome, while nice enough, tried too hard to be my friend, unexpectedly calling me during the evening on one occasion.

Which, though it wasn’t his fault as he didn’t know this, was not a good thing as evenings are my time to decompress, my attitude being “I don’t bother anyone, so I don’t want anybody to bother me”.

I reckon folks are wondering what my point is to all of this – here it is:

As good as mainstreaming was for me; I’m sure I would have never achieved what I achieved – a college degree, a work ethic of (at least) some kind, social skills, having my own sports blog which is growing, called SoCal Sports Annals.com ( Here’s the link: http://www.socalsportsannals.wordpress.com ) – if it were not for that,

I’m convinced that I would be more comfortable among aspies today if I were among them more during my formative years, rather than be completely separated from them.

One thing that I would check out would be a singles group consisting of those on the spectrum who are high functioning, where the opposite sexes can meet, form friendships and have an opportunity to date.

In other words, I would be interested in going to a mixer featuring high functioning women and seeing if anything clicks.

I know that the reason why I haven’t found anything like that is the fact that male autistics out number their female counterparts by an average of five to one.

But meeting a woman who’s a high functioning aspie, minimum age 35 but preferably in her early forties and up,  who shares the same interests as me, where we could provide companionship with each other,

Wouldn’t be something that I would be completely against.

Especially since I’m a fifty-something and don’t exactly have forever.

If there’s anyone out there who knows of any groups or programs like that in the Los Angeles area, please feel free to let me know!

There’s a chance I’ll check them out, but whether or not I choose to do so, I’ll feel glad knowing groups like that are out there.

 

 

Thank goodness I don’t feel as isolated as I used to, but that feeling is still there ever so often. Photo courtesy of bestpracticeautism.blogspot.com