raspyaspy
n00b
So I'm standing there. My friend, who has described her first impression of me as "the most awkward person I've ever met in my life" and someone who she said she "immediately did not like"--words I did not long to hear--has vowed to introduce me to her friend who she emphasized is not just "just like" me, but "the same person." So it should be easy, right?
I know what I'd be impressed by, right? A funny introduction. I'll be funny. He'll get it, we'll hit it off, we'll be best friends forever. He's right over there, checking out with his groceries. We both eat, right? Maybe I'll make a joke about how we have that in common. He'll think that's funny. That's funny, isn't it?
Maybe now isn't the time.
"I don't know, maybe another time."
"No, he's right over there! Let's just go say hi."
She grabs my arm and walks me over to her friend, who looks very happy to see her. I struggle to get words out. I stammer. I start to say something like "I've heard so much about you" when I realize that that's awkward and doesn't make sense, and is also not funny, and not entirely true so I don't want to clearly lie unless I'm being definitively sarcastic, which I think I'm a master of now but occasionally realize this is entirely untrue. What ends up transpiring is me, holding my hand out like a politician, mouth open but no words for about 2 solid minutes while my friend looks on in horror. Eventually I settle on the perfect introduction. I say, "Hi." He smiles and shakes my hand and says "hi" back. He doesn't seem to notice that I did not express the clever wit I had intended to, nor does he dwell on the fact that I stood there stammering for an inappropriately long time. I realize I like this person. He doesn't have the look of discomfort or dislike which I've grown accustomed to seeing, whether it's actually there or not. He isn't thrown off by the fact that I'm looking at his lips and not his eyes.
As my friend and I walk away from the encounter, she observes that I was "very weird". I'm comforted that despite this fact, she still thoroughly enjoys my company and voluntarily chooses to spend her "very awkward" time with me.
Anyway, this was a positive outcome for a very uncomfortable experience I typically struggle with:the self-introduction. Am I being too creepy? Too inappropriate? Should I try to be funny? Is "hi", "hey", or "hello" creepier? If I say "hi" to a crush, is that too forward? This self-filtering goes on in every conversation I have every day, where I relay the many painful rejections and relate the exact words and actions I'd taken to produce them and try not to repeat them. Social interactions are exhausting. I miss being a mute like I was as a child.
So, I'm here. Like many people, I'm not diagnosed, the process is confusing and I don't really see a benefit to it. Seeing a therapist caused me more anxiety than it helped me with: getting to the appointment on time, fitting it into my work schedule, panicking about asking to leave work early to make it on time on a regular basis, panic attacks on the drive there.
I like to read, I like anime, and recently I discovered WoW which, aside from the social aspect of it, I like a lot. I knew I would years ago, but I avoided it like the plague because I couldn't afford to get addicted to another thing while in college. When I "like" something, it is the only thing I think or talk about while I am currently obsessed with it. At 28, I still struggle with turning "off" that part of myself and realizing that I'm annoying people. I used to read parts of books to my sister's friends and laugh hysterically at them, thinking they would "get" it and we'd be besties and share this awesome thing together. I thought, maybe they just don't like it yet because they haven't read it, but once they do, once I share it with them, they'll finally get me.
I hate awkward comedy like that of Steve Carell or cartoons like Doug (on when I was a kid) because, while I like him as a person and even see the humor, the situations make me so uncomfortable I can't watch, I burn with empathy and want to run away.
I was accused of being "too sensitive" and "a crybaby" as a kid by my siblings, so I worked to build a hard outer shell and to either not cry or to find a place to cry alone. Little things made me cry, usually physical stimulants and discomforts that others didn't understand. Noise, physical touches, roughhousing, tickling (my least favorite thing, I would beg it to stop and it would always continue endlessly), even certain fabrics would cause a tantrum or a tear-fest. I didn't understand it at the time but I get now that I was both physically and emotionally hyper-sensitive and other people would actively try to "fix" that by being extremely tough on me. This did not help. If you have kids with autism or aspergers, I cannot stress enough how important teachers are in their success. Teachers can be downright abusive and bullies to kids on the spectrum. Those who insist on respect and do not give it can change a child from extremely well-behaved with good grades one year to defiant, "disrespectful" and deservedly so, low self-esteem and a decreasing GPA or willingness to do assignments. These teachers to not understand that TELLING a student on the spectrum to do something is just not good enough and will not orchestrate learning.
I take the advice from others very seriously and very personally. I internalize everything. I have gotten very good at adapting and pretending to be socially competent. This was greatly helped by the fact that I have a twin sister, so while I would have naturally retreated and been alone, there was a constant flow of children around me because they liked her and could put up with me as a tag along (it was really embarrassing to have my mom call and request an invite extended to me from a girl who I knew did not like me or thought she was too good for me, but fortunately this only happened twice and in one instance my sister ended up punching the girl in the face for calling me a nerd, so it ended up being more than worthwhile). I'm grateful for that because I learned to mimic and saw how other kids interacted in a way I didn't understand in classrooms or on playgrounds (recess was my LEAST favorite time as I just walked around alone and got kicked or taunted).
At the same time, I am pulling back from people now more than ever. I used to obsess over the internet, it was my one source of nonjudgmental friendship. Now I loathe things like facebook and have disassociated from many old friends as I can't take the constant feeling of rejection. Suddenly the internet just got so overwhelmingly negative. No longer do I feel people can talk and be different and understand one another there. Now it's just arguments and accusations and trolling. My one safe haven became engulfed in flames (and flame wars).
I decided to join this and talk to some people who might relate to what I'm going through and maybe help kids or parents of kids on the spectrum who might be going through the painful experiences I grew up with. What helped, what definitely did not, and how I look at the attempts to help that others made now as an adult. Even though it's the internet, I hope it won't feel all internet-y since I think we all know what it is like to feel attacked...
I know what I'd be impressed by, right? A funny introduction. I'll be funny. He'll get it, we'll hit it off, we'll be best friends forever. He's right over there, checking out with his groceries. We both eat, right? Maybe I'll make a joke about how we have that in common. He'll think that's funny. That's funny, isn't it?
Maybe now isn't the time.
"I don't know, maybe another time."
"No, he's right over there! Let's just go say hi."
She grabs my arm and walks me over to her friend, who looks very happy to see her. I struggle to get words out. I stammer. I start to say something like "I've heard so much about you" when I realize that that's awkward and doesn't make sense, and is also not funny, and not entirely true so I don't want to clearly lie unless I'm being definitively sarcastic, which I think I'm a master of now but occasionally realize this is entirely untrue. What ends up transpiring is me, holding my hand out like a politician, mouth open but no words for about 2 solid minutes while my friend looks on in horror. Eventually I settle on the perfect introduction. I say, "Hi." He smiles and shakes my hand and says "hi" back. He doesn't seem to notice that I did not express the clever wit I had intended to, nor does he dwell on the fact that I stood there stammering for an inappropriately long time. I realize I like this person. He doesn't have the look of discomfort or dislike which I've grown accustomed to seeing, whether it's actually there or not. He isn't thrown off by the fact that I'm looking at his lips and not his eyes.
As my friend and I walk away from the encounter, she observes that I was "very weird". I'm comforted that despite this fact, she still thoroughly enjoys my company and voluntarily chooses to spend her "very awkward" time with me.
Anyway, this was a positive outcome for a very uncomfortable experience I typically struggle with:the self-introduction. Am I being too creepy? Too inappropriate? Should I try to be funny? Is "hi", "hey", or "hello" creepier? If I say "hi" to a crush, is that too forward? This self-filtering goes on in every conversation I have every day, where I relay the many painful rejections and relate the exact words and actions I'd taken to produce them and try not to repeat them. Social interactions are exhausting. I miss being a mute like I was as a child.
So, I'm here. Like many people, I'm not diagnosed, the process is confusing and I don't really see a benefit to it. Seeing a therapist caused me more anxiety than it helped me with: getting to the appointment on time, fitting it into my work schedule, panicking about asking to leave work early to make it on time on a regular basis, panic attacks on the drive there.
I like to read, I like anime, and recently I discovered WoW which, aside from the social aspect of it, I like a lot. I knew I would years ago, but I avoided it like the plague because I couldn't afford to get addicted to another thing while in college. When I "like" something, it is the only thing I think or talk about while I am currently obsessed with it. At 28, I still struggle with turning "off" that part of myself and realizing that I'm annoying people. I used to read parts of books to my sister's friends and laugh hysterically at them, thinking they would "get" it and we'd be besties and share this awesome thing together. I thought, maybe they just don't like it yet because they haven't read it, but once they do, once I share it with them, they'll finally get me.
I hate awkward comedy like that of Steve Carell or cartoons like Doug (on when I was a kid) because, while I like him as a person and even see the humor, the situations make me so uncomfortable I can't watch, I burn with empathy and want to run away.
I was accused of being "too sensitive" and "a crybaby" as a kid by my siblings, so I worked to build a hard outer shell and to either not cry or to find a place to cry alone. Little things made me cry, usually physical stimulants and discomforts that others didn't understand. Noise, physical touches, roughhousing, tickling (my least favorite thing, I would beg it to stop and it would always continue endlessly), even certain fabrics would cause a tantrum or a tear-fest. I didn't understand it at the time but I get now that I was both physically and emotionally hyper-sensitive and other people would actively try to "fix" that by being extremely tough on me. This did not help. If you have kids with autism or aspergers, I cannot stress enough how important teachers are in their success. Teachers can be downright abusive and bullies to kids on the spectrum. Those who insist on respect and do not give it can change a child from extremely well-behaved with good grades one year to defiant, "disrespectful" and deservedly so, low self-esteem and a decreasing GPA or willingness to do assignments. These teachers to not understand that TELLING a student on the spectrum to do something is just not good enough and will not orchestrate learning.
I take the advice from others very seriously and very personally. I internalize everything. I have gotten very good at adapting and pretending to be socially competent. This was greatly helped by the fact that I have a twin sister, so while I would have naturally retreated and been alone, there was a constant flow of children around me because they liked her and could put up with me as a tag along (it was really embarrassing to have my mom call and request an invite extended to me from a girl who I knew did not like me or thought she was too good for me, but fortunately this only happened twice and in one instance my sister ended up punching the girl in the face for calling me a nerd, so it ended up being more than worthwhile). I'm grateful for that because I learned to mimic and saw how other kids interacted in a way I didn't understand in classrooms or on playgrounds (recess was my LEAST favorite time as I just walked around alone and got kicked or taunted).
At the same time, I am pulling back from people now more than ever. I used to obsess over the internet, it was my one source of nonjudgmental friendship. Now I loathe things like facebook and have disassociated from many old friends as I can't take the constant feeling of rejection. Suddenly the internet just got so overwhelmingly negative. No longer do I feel people can talk and be different and understand one another there. Now it's just arguments and accusations and trolling. My one safe haven became engulfed in flames (and flame wars).
I decided to join this and talk to some people who might relate to what I'm going through and maybe help kids or parents of kids on the spectrum who might be going through the painful experiences I grew up with. What helped, what definitely did not, and how I look at the attempts to help that others made now as an adult. Even though it's the internet, I hope it won't feel all internet-y since I think we all know what it is like to feel attacked...
.
