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

Advertisements

Part of a group

How do you feel in a group setting? Last month’s Ukraine trip was just one of many experiences that demonstrated how I respond to being with a lot of people. I hasten to add that it was definitely one of the more positive ones! But it did come with its challenges, and right now I’m expanding on a point I made last week.

While we were out sightseeing, one of our translators asked me why I didn’t talk much to anyone else. I was a bit lost for words. I had been talking to people. Thinking about it, however, I’d chatted to several people for a minute or two, but not really at length. Why?

All I can say to that is, this is usually the case in groups, and always has been. Yes, it’s Asperger related, but beyond that, I don’t know why, any better than anyone else. Autism experts would say something about me not reading non-verbal social cues. I say I’m being normal in my way, the others are being normal in their way, yet somehow I’m at the edge of the group.

To some extent, this is ok. I alternate between a little socialising, listening to everyone else’s conversations, and zoning out entirely. But if I want to really bond with people, it’s hard when there are so many of them! My best friendships have been built on one-to-one time in a quiet, socially safe environment, often when the two of us have something to do together.

Group situations are different. You’ve got lots of people to choose from. And they have lots of people – who are not you, and are probably way more charismatic – to choose from. When there’s information for you all to take in, it’s going to get passed around, changed, and worded differently or incorrectly. When you put it like that, can you see why autistic people struggle?

When I joined the choir at uni, despite my love of music, my heart was never in it. I was invisible. I didn’t feel like I belonged. When I tried to explain my struggles to people in charge, they said I was doing fine because they hadn’t felt like they needed to help me with anything. At one point, we took part in a huge university choir competition in London. From about 4.30 am that morning to 2.30 am that night, I was surrounded by people, often to the point where I could barely move. There was a lot of waiting around, moving around, stuff happening all the time, and no-one explaining anything to me. I hated it.

But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: my friends on the trip were great. They made sure I understood everything, they stopped me from getting lost, and some of them had a fair bit of quality time with me. And that’s basically what a group member on the spectrum needs.

Life of the party, me…

DISCLAIMER: not my photo