Autistic insecurity

Isn’t it interesting how our personal struggles grow and change with us? So often, I see Facebook posts about how much simpler life was when the most stressful thing was running out of colouring pencils. Or how Year 7* kids have no idea what real stress is. But our worries are no less real in the moment just because there may be worse to come, or there are others with bigger problems. A common feature of Asperger’s Syndrome is seemingly irrational anxiety over any potentially negative situation. So, as an Aspie myself, I thought I’d reflect on my own experiences here.

For a start, children with AS can sometimes have a very black-and-white understanding of the world, which may be particularly noticeable in their understanding of what is safe, and what isn’t. Most people are aware that too much sugar is bad for you, and hey, wouldn’t life be easier if more children understood this! But what do you do when your child is afraid to eat even a single sweet for fear of getting fat or feeling sick?

Thankfully, I’ve long since set myself a limit. No more than the equivalent of two moderate portions of dessert in a day. Maximum. It really pays to know your capacity.

In a similar way, you could say it’s healthy to have an aversion to germs and sickness. What is possibly less healthy is to have an anxiety attack whenever you – or even someone else – starts feeling ill. Or to be afraid of food that had even the slightest chance of becoming contaminated. You know, like when fruit gets bruised, or perishable food is a day past its sell-by-date.

As we start to mature, we often tend to worry less about the physical world, and more about problems with other people. I’ve always found conflict a struggle, and I think this has evolved from Mum having to skip parts in my Pingu storybooks where anyone got cross, to me soaking up other people’s negative emotions and not wanting to make things worse. I have improved – I want to assert my opinions, or say no, and I’m more likely to now – but old habits die hard.

Besides, social situations can cause a lot of anxiety for people like me, because we’re so afraid of making mistakes that we couldn’t have foreseen. In a big group of people, it’s easier to keep a low profile because that way, at least you know where you are with everyone else. For me, groups of three are the worst. So often, the other two will hit it off really quickly, and I just don’t know how to keep up.

Living in a world where socially skilled people come out on top can create a strong desire to prove oneself – if not socially, then intellectually. I’m fighting despair when it comes to all the job rejections I’ve had – how do I know employers don’t find AS to be a social turn-off? I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and autism awareness is a noble cause. But, if I’m honest, my ambition does come from a need to have something to aim for. Because we, as people, need to find meaning in something, and maybe our best chance to prove ourselves is by pursuing something important to us.

 

 

 

*aged 11-12 years

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Purpose

It’s a common image, isn’t it? You study, you graduate, you see the rest of your life ahead of you, and you’re desperate to find your purpose in life. And then you despair when you realise you don’t have one. Right?

People have many different opinions on big topics, like purpose, and fulfilment, and some might even say destiny. At university, with all the learning you’re (hopefully) doing, it’s so easy to think the world is your oyster from then on. And optimism is important, because you need to feel like you have something to be really living for. But adulthood is hard, and if you only expect to be moving forward on a steady upward slope towards your dreams, life will be disappointing.

Then at the other end of the scale, you could argue that there’s no point dreaming. Nothing lasts, nothing is certain, and you’ve just got to deal with whatever you’re given. I’ve never been inclined to agree with this attitude, because you never know what you could achieve if you keep dreaming and planning. But even just writing that argument has got me wondering: is there any truth in that?

After months of job hunting, disappointment, and finding ways to stay busy, I’m struggling with feelings of disillusionment at the moment. I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I’m working on book drafts, Demon magazine editing,* and this blog, and have often considered starting podcasts. Writing is how I communicate best, but sometimes it feels like nothing more than an old childhood dream. As a Christian, I hear, or read about, so many inspirational stories about people who have beaten far worse odds and survived by the sheer strength of their faith, and as much as I keep praying, I can’t help wishing I had that strength.

Facebook, by the way, for all it’s many fine qualities, does nothing to help here. Rather, it taunts you with glimpses of how successful your friends and acquaintances seem to be, whether socially, romantically, or in the world of work. Thus creating a standard that is about as reachable as the end of a rainbow. But your goals in life don’t have to be like that.

We all seem to have a need for certainty in our lives. It’s like a basic emotional need so that we have at least some foundation for the way we live. I do believe in having a purpose, but I also believe there is a trick to it. You’re not born with it, you don’t find it – you choose it, plan for it, pursue it, and if it doesn’t work out, you choose another. You might not have full control, but the direction you try is your choice.

 

 

*The Demon is the magazine of my old uni, De Montfort University. Despite my lack of interest in sports, I’ve somehow become the News and Sports editor. My role comprises correcting other people’s work, repeatedly announcing deadlines, and reeling at the thought that I’m the only person on the team who remembers when the Demon was a newspaper. Riveting stuff.