"Oh well, we're all on a spectrum!"

Spoiler: No, we're bloody well not.

I hear this an awful lot. Any discussion where someone is talking about the traits they have that are 'on the spectrum' (whether it's the spectrum of ADHD, ASD or something else) tends to end with one of the people in the conversation saying "we're all on a spectrum!", usually with a nervous laugh. It always frustrates me, because it has never once come from someone else who I know or suspect actually is experiencing ADHD or ASD. When I hear it from someone who is plainly neurotypical, it suggests that they don't understand the difference between an occasional misstep and a lifelong impairment... which really shouldn't be that hard to figure out.

When people say that we're all on a spectrum, I expect that they're thinking about a spectrum of human behaviours across the whole population. For the 'social communication' spectrum it might look something like this:

And to an extent that's true. However, when we talk about the "autistic spectrum", we're not talking about a whole-population spectrum with an "autistic end". We're talking about the spectrum within autism itself, which is a spectrum of impairment.

Lots of people have worse-than average social skills, but manage to get by without their social awkwardness impacting on their friendships, earning potential or mental health in any particular way. It is only once social communication problems are a burden that an autism diagnosis begins to enter the picture.

A more accurate diagram of the social communication spectrum would look like this:

We can talk about the spectrum of human social communication skills, sure. But when people with ASCs talk about being "on the spectrum", we're not talking about the whole three-colour spread. We're talking about this bit:

The ASD spectrum is a spectrum of impairment. It is the degree to which (for example) poor social communication skills affect the person's ability to function within society.

Claiming that we're "all on a spectrum" ignores the fact that being on the spectrum of impairment is by definition far harder to live with than being placed anywhere else on the whole-population spectrum. "I feel shy sometimes" (red 'no impairment' zone) is not the same as "My voice actually shuts down for hours after a stranger addresses me" (blue 'impairment' zone). The autism spectrum isn't about how good or bad your skills are, it's about the degree to which your functioning is impaired by those gaps in your innate skills.

To give the ADHD version, "everyone loses things sometimes" is not the same as "I frequently upset or inconvenience myself or others by losing important paperwork, even if I've made a conscious effort to keep it safe at some point".

Please, if you hear the words "oh, we're all on a spectrum" hovering on your lips... don't say them. We know we're all on the human spectrum and don't need you to tell us that. We need you to hear us when we try to tell you - who have never experienced it - what it's like to live on an impairment spectrum. It's not the same. We're not the same. If thinking about that makes you uncomfortable, try to imagine how uncomfortable it is to be in the blue bit. Having an impairment is not actually all that much fun.

Ways you can tell you're autistic . . .

I'm about 90% able to cope with the neurotypical world these days, and only occasionally find myself being needing to take action to make sense of something.

Having to google a bit of slang to find out what someone means . . . is one of those times :D

Now I know *that* one!

Ouch

I'm still sorting through those boxes of papers and bits and pieces. There's so much accumulated stuff there, and reading parts of it (particularly when flipping through old notebooks to see if they're still usable) is quite painful. It's like reliving the past 5 years of my life, the problem being that I already lived them and they were sodding miserable. In one notebook I found pages and pages of journaling from when I was making up my mind / screwing up my courage to quit my archaeology job and leave Sydney. I was living in a constant state of fear and anxiety in that job, never knowing where the next blow was coming from, constantly on that fight-or-flight edge. I had to slam that notebook shut and chuck it away as fast as I could. I know now that a lot of my problems in that job were generated by my own issues as an Aspie - all the misunderstandings and confusions - but it was still a crazy-making place regardless. I've worked as an undiagnosed Aspie in places that were not that manic. It was not just me! But remembering what I went through at the end there was gut-wrenching.

I've found some good stuff, too, of course - old cards and letters from caring friends, photocopies of good papers that still interest me, random photographs, etc. And a few bits of humour.

The following was written on a piece of notepaper from that same archaeology job. It was fairly early in my career there, and was inspired by two draft reports I'd received back from the client in a heavily, and idiotically, edited state. "C" is the client's comment; "A" is the snarky answer I wished I could give! All of the comments are real and came from high-profile public clients.

C: There does not appear to be an executive summary.
A: Appearances can be deceiving. Executive summary is on second page.

C: Significant vistas: you have not addressed the view of the building from the grave on the hill.
A: You can't see the building from the grave on the hill.

C: Spelling error: unkempt
A: No, that's the correct spelling.

C: The "grassed area" you refer to is not grassed. Do you mean that it should be grassed?
A: No, I mean that it is grassed. What you mean is that it is wild grass, not lawn. Would you prefer "abandoned lot" to "grassed area"?

C: "Possibly Pinus radiata" - is it possible to be more positive?
A: If it was, would we have said "possibly"?

C: Is this paragraph out of place?
A: . . . No?

C: The diagram only has 4 layers . . .?
A: There are four lots of information represented in the diagram

C: I disagree that this item has heritage significance and should be retained.
A: Me expert, you client. You don't have to like my findings.

C: This information is not referenced. Please cite your source.
A: That would be your email on the subject directing me to include this information.

C: Please remove all interpretation schemes and suggestions from the report as it is not part of the scope of this project.
A: You mean the ones you requested at the last minute, right before the report was due?

C: The section on indigenous heritage has disappeared.
A: You did mark it as "irrelevant: remove" in the last edited version.

C: I don't understand this sentence.
A: That's not my fault, please consult a dictionary.

C: "Item is of little significance." Do you mean it is of no significance?
A: No, I mean it is of little significance.

C: "Maintenance is the responsibility of the client" - this is incorrect. Maintenance is the responsibility of the tenant.
A: Remember those emails I sent asking for information on who is responsible for maintenance? This is why answering them would have been good.

C: ?
A: Are we playing guess-what-I-don't-like-about-this-section? "?" what?!

Any theories on why I burned out after 18 months of consulting? Anyone?

Three Reunions, Three Lessons.

I had the last of my three 10-year high school reunions yesterday. It was a fantastic night and I really enjoyed it. I guess I'm now used to the whole reunion thing as I wasn't nervous at all for this one! That also comes from sorting through a lot of my "stuff". My self-esteem did not depend on the night going well, and since it did I just feel better about myself!

On the way home, I reflected on the three different reunions and the emotions and self-beliefs that surrounded each one. Like most teenagers my high school years were fraught with dramas and traumas, and being an Aspie with difficult and divorced parents I had perhaps a harder time than many dealing with the trials of teenagehood. In some ways, the reunions have let me 'go back' and fix some of the things that were going wrong. I've learned an important lesson out of each of the reunions - a different lesson each time.

Before the first reunion, for EHSHS, I was incredibly nervous. I was only at EHSHS for Years 8 and 9 (1993-94) and didn't really feel like I had any right to be going. I also had to get there very late, because my uncle's wedding reception was the same night. I was convinced that only a couple of people would remember me, and that they would probably wonder what I was doing there since I hadn't graduated with them. I even asked the people running it whether I was allowed to go!

When I got there, I was immediately greeted with great excitement by dozens of old friends and acquaintances. Most didn't even remember that I hadn't been there the whole time, or alternatively had wondered where the hell I'd gone since my friends hadn't managed to pass on the fact that I'd been custody-shuffled up to the northern suburbs. I was hugged by people I barely remembered, and "glomped" by a few who had really missed me. It was wonderful and I went home feeling like I'd regained a whole portion of my life that went missing after I left EHSHS.

Lesson One: You Are Memorable. I am not background noise. My appearance and manner and personality leaves a pleasant memory that people can retrieve immediately. I am missed when I leave and welcomed when I return. I don't need to fear being forgotten or unnoticed.

The next reunion was for GSHS where I did Years 10-12 (1995-97) after going to live with Mum. Before the GSHS reunion I felt even worse than I did prior to the first one. I was very much unpopular at GSHS (my friends were all in the year below me because my own year didn't 'get' me). I felt again like I had no right to be there and would be teased / laughed at / shunned for turning up to the reunion when I was so unwelcome at the school in the first place. I was terribly nervous.

What I found, when I got there, was that everyone remembered me, and no one remembered that I'd been unpopular. People kept asking things like "oh, were you at that party where . . .", and I kept having to say "no, I wasn't", thinking all the while ". . . because you guys never once invited me to a party!". They didn't have any recollection of my status as class pariah, and welcomed me with open arms and great enthusiasm. I hadn't been one of the crowd, but all they remembered was that I had been there through the most important years of high school. That was all that mattered to them.

Lesson Two: You Are Acceptable. Kids in high school are stupidly obsessed with conformity. My oddness was unbearable to them back then, but they're adults and they're over it. The person I am today is acceptable to the people they are today. I am not a pariah and no one sees me as one. I am accepted as one of "them".

This weekend's reunion was for FSHS, where I repeated Year 12 in 1998, having gone back to live with Dad at his new house in a different suburb after stuffing up my tertiary entrance exams in 1997. I wasn't nervous for this one - I knew that T, a good friend of mine, would be there, and I had better memories of the people at FSHS in general. I was pretty sure I was going to be welcomed, and hoped I would also be remembered.

The evening was delightful. Most people remembered me (some after a bit of prompting lol), and if they remembered me as half of "Christine and Brett", well, that's fair enough! Most were quite fascinated by the path my life had taken, and I found I had a lot in common with many of the girls I spent the evening with. It was a really great night.

Lesson Three: You Are Respected. People think very highly of someone who has three degrees, who followed her dream to do archaeology, who made a sensible decision to get out when it wasn't working out, and who does such an undeniably difficult and underpaid job as primary school teaching. In fact, the stuff I can do seriously amazes people, even if I consider them far brighter than me! So far as mannerisms can tell the story, everyone remembered liking me at school, and many remembered my dream to do archaeology. I am seen as someone who has achieved, who has strived, who has Gone Somewhere and Done Something with her life. No one cares about what I don't have or thinks less of me for it. What I do have is sufficient.

At last night's reunion I also had a long chat to my high school sweetheart (the aforementioned Brett), who was there with his wife and child. I found that, for the first time since we broke up in 2000, chatting to Brett triggered none of my "stuff". I think I'm starting to get my head around my past and put it away.

The three reunions have helped to set right a number of misconceptions I had about myself, and have replaced them with the positives listed above. And that feels good!

NaNo Update

I'm REALLY behind on my NaNo novel - trust me to get a life-sucking bout of insomnia right at the start of November! But the good news is that in the last two days, with the help of the medication, I have started writing it. I've done 2510 words in two days, which is a good start. I hope I'll be able to catch up over the weekends and still be in the running to finish on time. I'm really liking the way it's taking shape, and the characters are starting to come to life.

It's been funny, though - my main character, Lissa, is a thirteen-year-old girl loosely based on my fantasy 'alter ego' that I used to tell myself stories about at that same age. In order to get inside her head I've been reading my old diary from that age. Yikes. I cannot believe I was EVER that silly, that desperate to be 'random', that impressed with my own cleverness, and that obsessed with boys. 90% of the diary is about boys. That quote from "Pride and Prejudice" about the 'silliest girls in England' keeps jumping into my head. Apart from being an Aspie, I was a pretty normal teenager, and it's quite the shock to see myself (in the privacy of a diary, at least) carrying on in the hyperactive, look-at-me-crazy, crush-obsessed way that annoying teenagers do on the internet these days. If BtN had been around when I was in my early teens, I probably *would* have been one of the little twits we have to throw snide remarks at until they stop parading their belief in their own cleverness and driving everyone nuts. I was so silly.

Changing Hurts.

Growing pains of the soul and mind are no less painful than those of the body.

At the moment I'm digging deep into my childhood, doing the work I need to do to understand why I get pulled into negative relationships time and time again. Part of the answer is the straightforward issue of being an Aspie growing up in a neurotypical word which has given me a desperate need to belong, to be normal, to be seen as fitting in. Sticking with bananaheads because being in a grown-up relationship made me one of the "real people" is part of my problem.

But the more painful issue is one of sibling dynamics. Throughout my childhood, my brother was the one who acted up and acted out. Not that he had no reason - diagnosed with ADHD and undiagnosed with Aspergers, he didn't exactly have it easy. But his problems were so visible. He got into trouble, he had manic episodes, he broke windows, he had to change schools so many times because the staff were running out of patience with his issues. Not all the time - not every day - but he was certainly a high-maintenance child.

I was the opposite. I never acted out, and when my problems did bubble to the surface, they came in the form of hysterics and inconsolable tears. I was a withdrawn, introverted child, the polar opposite of my brother. My problems were no less severe - diagnosed ADD and undiagnosed Aspergers - but I was no trouble. My brother received the lion's share of everyone's attention, because he had to. He needed it, for sure. But I needed it too . . . and never got it. That is the great unmet need of my childhood - for someone to look past the fact that my brother was loud and I was quiet, and realise that I needed help too.

Time and time again, when my brother worked himself up into a state and started acting out, my parents would rescue him - new school, new counsellor, new hobby etc. For years and years and years I waited for my parents to rescue me too. I just knew that sooner or later they would realise just how much pain I was in, how much I was struggling at school, and pull me out, find me a school that would work for me. It never happened . . . because they never knew. And I never asked for help. How could I ask, when my brother so clearly needed their attention more than I?

One effect of this dynamic is relatively easy to deal with: I need to learn to acknowledge my own needs, recognise them as valid, and be prepared to stand up for them. Another effect . . . not so easy. I have to ask myself: do I get into these relationships where I am still suffering and still living out that silently-going-crazy coping role because I am still waiting to be rescued? Is the part of me that puts up with these relationships that same little girl who waited all those years for someone to notice the pain? Am I unable to say no to crazy-making situations because it's my way of giving the universe / my peers / my parents / others one last chance to do what I needed them to do all those years ago?

I have to put that pain to bed forever before I can let someone into my life. I need to make peace with the fact that child-Christine and teen-Christine are never going to be rescued. I have to learn to live with how it was, not how it should have been.

I haven't the faintest idea where to start, but I'll get there somehow.

I'm watching "The Holiday" this evening and want to share this quote:

Iris: "I wanted to get away from one guy, an ex-boyfriend who just got engaged and forgot to tell me."
Arthur: "So, he’s a schmuck."
Iris: "As a matter of fact he is a huge schmuck . . . how did you know?"
Arthur: "He let you go. This is not a hard one to figure out."

EXACTLY.

Setting it Straight

I have mentioned before the wonderful blog Getting Past Your Past, an incredibly empowering resource for people who are grieving over their break-up and are ready to question why it went wrong and what they can do to end up in a good relationship next time. The site advocates using a tool called the "Relationship Inventory" to take stock of what went wrong and right in your last relationship, and what that meant in terms of your own satisfaction. Some of the questions are hard to answer, because they ask you to question your own beliefs and understandings. But when you finish, it feels good. Oh, so good.

These are some of the things I’ve discovered so far.

1. S was controlling, manipulative, jealous, passive-aggressive, inflexible and enormously self-centred.

2. I ignored S’s behaviour because I was busy being the ‘good’ girlfriend and enabling S’s behaviour because giving in to him meant that I was not being a brat.

3. This was an issue for me because I have struggled against a tendency to a volatile temper. I had formerly adopted crazy-making habits and was determined to defeat them, to the point where I failed to maintain basic standards about how I could be treated.

4. I also ignored S’s increasingly crazy-making behaviour because I did not have the self-confidence to admit that I could see that it was going wrong.

5. This was a self-confidence issue for me because I felt that being in a proper adult relationship was a validation of my own status as a genuine adult, meant that I was ‘keeping up’ with my partnered friends and cousins. These are two issues I have struggled with. By backing out of the relationship I would be going back to the ‘single and failing at life’ tag I’d ascribed to myself.

6. I have self-esteem issues for a number of reasons going right back to the first few years of school. One is the simple fact that having an Aspergers brain means that I have felt different, substandard and confused for much of my life. Another is my role of silent child / ‘the one who copes’ in my family structure. The latter has resulted in my aversion towards asking for help and a habit of belittling my own needs because, as a child, my needs were never as great as those of my brother. I have also developed the habit of belittling my achievements, because what I achieved in spite of my minor needs were never as impressive as what others (ie my brother) achieved in the face of his greater needs. This is a false perception, and a belief not shared by other people, who see my achievements independently to others’ and are really very proud of me.

7. In most of my relationships, I have repeated the pattern of accepting what I should not accept, because I lacked the self-confidence to draw the line at the risk of losing the relationship. In these situations I was clinging to the validation that being in any relationship provided, and doubted my own ability to distinguish between acceptable friction and unacceptable behaviour. I broke up with B because of his denigrating behaviour, then reneged and had to find it out again in the repeat relationship. I took it from E until my walk-over-ness drove him away. I caught it in time with N. With C, I allowed actual abuse to drag on for a year before finally refusing to accept it any longer, precipitating the breakup. D drove himself away by buying into his own crazy-making manipulation, but I had realised that the relationship was going to end because of it. With S, I pretended that I could accept and deal with the treatment I was receiving, and although I still have no idea exactly what precipitated the breakup on S’s part, the way he was treating me was appalling and I should not have been allowing it.

8. The key for me to have successful relationships in the future is to develop an unassailable feeling of self-worth, and to be absolutely clear with myself about what I will and will not accept from others. To do this I will need to unpack every layer of my self-doubt, address every false perception, reject every unwarranted label, and replace the falsehoods with positive truths that will support my belief that I deserve only the best treatment from only the best people. Then, and only then, will I be ready for another relationship.



So there it is. I have a LOT of work ahead of me. I don’t know how long it will take, and for some parts I don’t even know how I will achieve it. But I’m going to get there. No more crazy-making, no more doubt. I’m going to get to the bottom of this.

Aww

As an Aspie, I have trouble identifying friendship and distinguishing between friendship and polite aquaintance. This has caused me a great deal of embarrassment over the years, when I've either acted shy and stupid when not realising that someone actually liked me, or have appeared rude and presumptuous when I assumed a greater level of friendship than actually existed. This problem has caused some of the most painful experiences of my life.

This year I've struggled with the problem with open eyes, and as previously mentioned I've made pretty sure that C, the other young teacher at my school whom I've bonded really well with, was a real friend and not just using the common politeness that fools Aspies into thinking that people are friendly. It's become pretty obvious even to me that she genuinely likes me - choosing to spend time with me, asking if we can do things together, etc.

This afternoon we had combined our classes for a virtues activity. The chosen virtue was Loyalty, and C was talking to the kids about what makes a loyal friend. She said "It doesn't have to be someone you've known for a long time. Take Miss (my surname) and I . . . I only met Miss (my surname) at the start of this year, but we will probably be friends for life because we've just bonded in such a good way."

If I hadn't been grinning hugely I might have cried right then and there lol.

I'm pretty sure we're friends . . . a speech like that in front of 30 kids is plain enough even for an Aspie like me!

Feeling down

I'm sick again (S gave me tonsilitis, woot) and off school today, tomorrow and possibly Friday as well. Oh joy.

I'm finding some aspects of life really difficult at the moment. I can teach, where teaching equals standing in front of the class and engaging them in learning. But there's other aspects to teaching too . . . managing parents, managing other staff members, managing tricky bits of paper, and managing to remember to do a million different beaurocratic hoop-jumps every day.

Aspergers Christine doesn't deal so well with those things, and it's making me feel very stressed and negative and self-hating. I want to be good at it but my brain just doesn't seem to want to co-operate and I don't know how to train it to do these things better.

*bawls*

"Contemplating thinking about thinking"

Heh, the title isn't all that relevant, except that I'm listening to the song it comes from right now (Robbie Williams' "Come Undone") and it seemed appropriate.

I've been writing an essay about Aspergers / High Functioning Autism kids, and also studying the subject in general, for both of my exams this semester, and I'm finding more and more things I do that really are Autistic traits. Take this quote from this website :

"One of the key symptoms common between boys and girls is a hyper-focused interest one particular thing or topic. For boys, the special interests are often in areas of science or transportation (trains or airplanes). In girls, the focus is often on animals or classic literature. The interest in and of itself isn't unusual, but a child with Asperger's will have an unusually intimate knowledge of his or her topic of interest. Young girls may play with dolls and have imaginary friends, which doesn't seem at all unusual. However, her interest in these things will continue even when she's a teenager and they should have been outgrown."

ZOMG. I was still playing with dolls at 14, and only stopped because I moved house and never got to unpack them again. And classic literature . . . before I discovered fantasy, I flatly refused to read anything that was not set in the 1800s. The only exception I made was for certain novels that fitted in with my other obsessions (such as first names - the "Babysitters Club" books fed this obsession rather well). Even today I'm pretty damn obsessed with 1800s literature, and I occasionally start writing stories about characters that are actually my childhood dolls o_O Set, of course, in the 1800s.

I also stim. I had never, ever realised this before, but I do. I scratch lightly at my hands, arms and legs - not enough to leave more than a slight red mark, but enough to counteract the sensory overload from things like breezes and goosebumps, which I've always hated feeling. Eeep!

And another completely unrelated topic in this grab-bag post: a slight rofl. As I was walking down the library steps, I heard two guys behind me having the following conversation:

1: Seen Mary-Jane lately?
2: Yeah, a few days ago.
1: Uhuh
2: I was gonna go see her this morning, but you know . . . exams and all that
1: Didn't we agree that Mary-Jane was a distraction when it comes to studying?
2 (laughing): Yeah, well.

The two guys were both quite young - I'd say first or second year, so 20 or younger - and I just can't help wondering whether they really thought they were having a subtly disguised conversation about marijuana. Because it was pretty blatantly obvious to me lol. They sounded like they thought they were being so clever and devious :-D

That's all for now, I think, lol

*sigh*

Don't worry, nothing's wrong, I'm just feeling all roiled up this evening. I'm tired of having to deal with personalities all the time - some people bring out the Aspergers worse than others, and I just get so fed up and cranky with the way I can't understand them and they can't understand me. I'm sick of dealing with so many people for so much of my time. I want a little family and pets and chickens and a big block and some space to think and grow without so many people hammering on my skull all the time wanting me to come out and be like them. Ugh. Why can't I just hide?

Aspergers

This article is an interesting read for anyone who's wondered what it's like to have Aspergers.

I found the article truly uncanny - so many of the things this guy talks about ring true in my own childhood. For example, he talks about having hated the act of bashing apart piñatas and having been taken home inconsolable from a party after having watched the piñata donkey being 'killed'. I used to cry if I accidentally 'hurt' one of my dolls . . . I still feel guilty that they're locked up in boxes getting squashed, for that matter. 

The whole article is full of such things. If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to be inside my head (or wondered what I mean when I say that it’s my childhood more than my adulthood that confirms that I have Aspergers), then have a read. That’s what it’s like.

 

Oh, wow . . .

In primary school, I was a kind of odd, detatched little Aspergers kiddie, and as a result I was bullied and teased pretty much constantly, and was very unpopular.

There were two girls in particular who teased me more than others – “M” (who was the ringleader) and “A” (who was her sidekick).

With it being 10 years since my year group graduated high school, more and more of us are appearing on “find old school friends” type sites. I’m on several, and yesterday “A” spotted my profile on one of the sites, and emailed me to apologise for the teasing.

I’m sure most people who’ve been bullied fantasize about their tormentors apologising to them, and I was no different, but I never actually expected it to happen!

I wrote her a very nice, friendly email back, and I feel great. I’d long forgiven my primary school bullies as they were just kids, and kids can be really stupidly mean to each other, but it’s just so nice to hear from one of them that I didn’t deserve it.

This looks to be a 5-Star day so far! 

What I Want vs What I Really Want

Apologies to everyone who has a Spice Girls song stuck in their head due to the title. And apologies to everyone who didn’t after reading the title, but does now because of Apology #1.

I’ve been thinking a lot in the last day about my need to “plan” the future out in my head, to know what I’m going to be doing from year to year and how I’m going to do it. It’s hard to talk to people about it because I’ve found that they don’t understand that they’re not real plans, and it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t happen the way I imagine. I just need to have a plan.

The reason I’ve been thinking about it is that I’ve realised that my high-functioning autistic brother (9yo) does the same thing. He’ll start to fret about something so far in the future that it’s absurd (for example, he’s currently fretting about the fact that he doesn’t know how to get a job when he wants to start earning money). Mum or I will try to explain to him how it works, step by step, and he will repeat it back to us. Each time he hits something he doesn’t understand, we have to clarify, and after the clarification, he goes back to the beginning of the explanation and recites it with the new information, until he hits the next bit he doesn’t understand . . . then back to the beginning again.

I do exactly the same things when making these comfort-plans of the future. I’ll think my way through, work out a detail, go back to the start, think it through again, add another aspect, go back to the start . . . it’s not fretful worrying for me, but otherwise it’s the exact same process.Tends to indicate that it’s an autism spectrum thing, which explains why most people find it weird lol.

Right now I’m struggling with the fact that there’s the plan I ostensibly want, which is sensible and fits cultural norms and such; and then there’s the plan I really want, which people will find strange and old-fashioned but actually fits my character and temperament far better.

Plan A is the one I’ve discussed before – teach in the country a bit, teach in London a bit, come back, teach while having a respectably middle-sized family and using childcare so that I can keep working for a lot of the time. Then there's Plan B. It goes like this: I go to the country to teach, fall in love with both the town and someone in it, teach for a while then stop work and be a stay-at-home-writing-Mum to a largeish family (apart from some relief teaching if there’s someone I can leave the kids with), then go back to teaching in however many years once the youngest is in pre-primary.

Now, most people would be horrified at the idea of my pursuing plan B – big families (I’m only talking 6 or 7 mind, not 15!) are politically incorrect, and intelligent women aren’t supposed to want to be stay-at-home Mums. Plus it’s financially “unwise”. But I know myself, and I think I’d thrive on that lifestyle.

And I’m wavering on London, simply because of the hassle of it all. Plus there’s one major problem with the London plan – Jemima would have to go into quarantine for 6 months when I came back to Australia, and that’s a nasty thing to do to a cat. I’m not capable of putting my cat through anything like that, nor could I give her away. So the chances are I’d feel trapped in London in the end because I wouldn’t want to move back in Jemima’s lifetime. And that just doesn’t work any way you look at it.

I’ll have LOTS of holidays as a teacher, and with careful budgeting while I’m still young and child-free I’ll be able to travel Europe plenty. Do I really need to live there? Really? Deciding to go to London was a get-out plan because I was scared that I’d get trapped in country WA with no prospects of meeting anyone. And I can keep it as that – if in a couple of years I feel trapped, I go to London, and deal with the hassle. Fine. But right now I want a big country property with chickens to feed and a veggie garden to tend and a house full of kiddies. And I can’t stop wanting it just because other people think it’s not right.

Nor can I stop comfort-planning it because people find it strange!

I forgot . . .

. . . the exam went well, too. Lol.

I'm finding myself in a very peaceful mood at the moment, almost serene. It's pleasant, if a little mysterious! I've been puzzling out some of the reasons, and here are some of the things I've discovered.

1: Every day I'm getting a little closer to being completely at peace with Aspergers. It's been 9 months since it finally hit me that I wasn't the only neurotypical in my family, but was actually a marginally better-adjusted Aspie. Since then I’ve gone through periods of rebellion and self-suppression (when I was determined that Aspergers wouldn’t stop me from learning to be completely normal) but finally I’m starting to realise that what I really need to do is to be ME, Aspergers and all. Yes I’m a bit quirky and weird, yes I value accuracy out of all proportion, yes there are parts of me that may never grow up. But that’s who I am, and it’s really nothing shameful. I can be myself, be happy, and function in the world all at once.

2: For the first time since I was fifteen, I’m not clucky (that’s a family word meaning “longing for a baby”). I don’t cry at adverts with kids in them! I’m also not feeling particularly lonely or lovelorn, which is unusual for me when I’m single. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way, but I think the drop in cluckiness is partly due to Jemima. Not that she takes the place of a baby, but having to account for her in everything has made me realise that there are so many things I want to do in my life, and they’re all extremely hard do with a kitten to account for – and she lets me leave her at home alone all day! I may be ready for babies in other ways, but I’ve realised that I can also enjoy my freedom while I’ve still got it. There’s a lot to life that can’t happen if you’re locked down into white-picket-fence mode.

I’ve also identified the fact that the one common thing in all the bad relationships I’ve had has been that the guys have been obsessed with the power relationship between us. ‘B’ and ‘N’ wanted me to be powerful and wonderful, and put me on a pedestal; and ‘C’ and ‘D’ wanted to be powerful and played mind games to keep me off-balance and weak (‘C’ far, far worse than ‘D’, of course). The best relationship I’ve had, that with ‘E’, had no power balance issues, but fell down due to his religious problems with his mother (Jewish mama’s boy . . .). So somehow I’m attracting guys or being attracted to guys who prefer relationships with uneven power balances. I don’t want that, so I need to look out for it in the future.

3: I’ve come to better understand depression, and I’ve realised that I have two types. The first, which I’m calling ‘situational’, is when I get swamped by unhappiness due to things that are happening now or which happened in the past. That sort is easily treatable with counselling, to work through the issues and put them behind me. The second sort, however, doesn’t have anything to do with situations, although it feeds on them. It’s the real, clinical depression, that deep-seated sad soreness that never quite goes away, and can flare up at any time. Understanding this makes it easier to deal with – I no longer beat myself up for feeling awful over nothing. I’m allowed! I can also look for signs of the real depression and deal with it before it finds a situation to feed on, which helps.

4: I’ve also been through a bit of a watershed recently, in that I’ve realised that some of my ‘fringe friends’ (ie the friends that are part of the same group I’m a part of, but aren’t my direct friends) aren’t really nice people at all, and I’ve given up all intention of seeing them. Finding out that I had unpleasant ‘friends’ has freed me up to make some nice, real friends! Funny, how one can forget that friends don’t have to be narky and argumentative and critical . . . lol. I’m really enjoying the friendships I’ve started at uni.

So overall I feel calm and pleasant and capable. It’s good!

Two things

. . . two disgruntled, unhappy things.

Firstly, by and large I'm at peace with the fact that the unhappy parts of my childhood were largely due to undiagnosed Aspergers (which wasn't even recognised as a condition until I was 13 anyway) and that it's no one's fault that I had problems. But today when searching for my tax file number I came across all of my old reports from primary school and early high school. And I suddenly felt a surge of real anger over what I was reading. "Seems withdrawn" . . . "very quiet" . . . "seems to be happy sitting alone" . . . "sometimes seems tense" . . . "is prone to daydreaming" . . .

WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T ANYONE REALISE THAT SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH ME?!

Even though Aspergers wasn't recognised at the time, surely someone somewhere should have noticed that I wasn't normal! Between my parents (accepting me for who I was and not worrying about it) and my teachers (noticing that I was different and wanting me to be punished / bullied into acting normal), it never seems to have occurred to anyone that my differences might be real differences rather than misbehaviours or personality defects.

I have no idea whether there’s anything they could have done, if they’d known that I really wasn’t capable of just being normal. But it hurts to think that there might have been something.

Secondly, and on a less dramatic note, I’m currently a rather frustrated namesnerd. I want to get some reliable, sensible name suggestions, but I can’t go to the only sensible name site out there without getting dragged into personal stuff. I don’t want to be involved in all that, I just want names. But if I go back, I’ll get pounced on and bashed up for stuff that happened in the past, so I have to stay name-suggestion-less. Bah.

I think I'm coming down with a virus, too. Blech.

Bits and pieces

Today was an okay sort of day, quite nice in places. Enter rambling reflections . . .

I don't know if this applies only to Aspergers & other neuro-atypical people, but I find that it's very rare to find friends that I can be 100% myself around, with all my quirks and oddities laid bare. Some friends come very, very close, but still there's the odd moment when their body language - the quirk of a lip or a wrinkling of a nose - gives away the fact that they think I'm strange. Of course, I forgive them immediately because they're my friends and I love them, but it can still hurt.

Over the last three weeks I've been lucky enough to make a friend around whom I really can be 100% myself. This may be because he's also neuro-atypical, I haven't quite decided yet lol. He's also in the Grad Dip Ed course, but in the high school stream, so we only share one class. We were on prac together for two weeks, however, and got to know each other really well, plus we keep running in to each other on the bus or on campus. Every time we meet we start talking, about everything and anything, and we're both quirky as hell so nothing that either of us does fazes the other in the least. We probably both sound as mad as hatters to an outsider, but it's wonderful. Just wonderful.

And before you get started, no, I have no romantic designs on Matthew. I'm giddy over the friendship but that's all it is. For a start, he's 3 years younger than me and I would have to get over my own psychological aversion to going out with someone my younger brother's age. He's a good-looking guy but I don't feel particularly attracted to him (not that I'm repulsed by him either - it's just a neutral, platonic feeling). I'm not ruling out the possibility that something could develop, but I'm not expecting it to. The friendship is uplifting enough! So you can expect a lot of babble about What Matthew Said in the near future. I'm definitely not letting him see my blog :-D

*

Speaking of neuro-atypical minds, mine got a nice airing in my Mathematics Curriculum workshop yesterday. We were being taught about subitising - that is, recognising the number of objects in a group without counting them, by recognising the patterns that certain sets of numbers make. Most people can subitise up to about 4, maybe 5 depending on how the items are arranged. To demonstrate, the workshop tutor was flashing up sets of dots on the screen and getting us to call out how many there were as soon as we were sure. After doing a few easy ones - 3, 4, 5 - she flashed up 9. It took a second before we all got it, and then we talked about how people had got to the answer (which was by subitising sets within the whole set, for example I saw three sets of three). Then she flashed up one covered with dots, there was a second's pause, then I said "sixteen". And everyone stared at me. No one else was close to getting it, but my pattern-obsessed brain saw five sets of three, plus one extra, and gave me the answer. The workshop tutor was a bit shocked, especially as I'd told her a few minutes earlier that I wasn't feeling well! I went and explained to her afterwards that there's a reason why I'm a pattern-recognising freak :-D But the rest of the class will just have to deal lol.

*

I got my first assignment back today, my reflective journal from the first two weeks of the course. I got 70%, which is a distinction and my average mark for almost everything I've ever done lol. I'm happy with it, although I know why I lost marks: I didn't reflect on the readings enough (as opposed to my experiences). I knew I was going to lose marks for that when I handed it in, but that assignment went in during the worst of the horror weeks so I knew I wouldn't be able to do my best for it. And a distinction is not something to be disappointed about!

*

The prospective share house I wrote about yesterday is looking very, very promising. Rent is $110/week including broadband internet, and the housemate only lives there part-time so I'd have a fair degree of autonomy. It'll be a bit lonely that way, but I'll have constant contact with people at uni so I should be able to cope. Jemima is allowed to live there and the room sounds big enough. I can't get to see it until next weekend, and it's not available until late March, but that's fine. I'm very hopeful, it sounds really really good! Funnily enough, the other girl who lives there (who is the daughter of the owners) is also an education student, but at a different university. Teachers everywhere!

*

I had that appointment with the uni counsellor today. They do a sort of 'triage' for people wanting counselling services - a 15-minute appointment to assess their needs to see whether they need anything ongoing. The counsellor is a nice young guy who I found really easy to talk to. We've agreed that what I really need first off is a session in which to talk over all of the changes in my life and try to come to grips with them, so I'm booked in for that. Although I'm not sure one 50-minute session will be long enough to cover all those changes lol. But we'll see how we go. I'm feeling better today anyway, since life has pretty much already thrown at me everything it's got for the time being, so I can breathe for a bit.

*

Without a doubt, my hardest class this semester is going to be Maths Curriculum. The good old mental block, installed by a Year 2 teacher who told me that I was bad at maths, is still there apparently. It's going to be an uphill battle to stay engaged and not lose heart. I can teach maths, I will teach maths . . . I just need to remember that!

*

That's all for today, I think. First shift at Subway tomorrow - wish me luck!

*And* . . .

And on top of all of that below, I've recently become uncomfortably aware of how much of my personality I have to keep supressed in order to be considered "normal" and not get laughed at by all and sundry. A lot of the things I love (porcelain dolls or Victoriana, for example) are considered immature interests for a 25-year-old, but I defy anyone to give me a logical reason why collecting porcelain dolls is any less mature than collecting china animals or Schwarovski crystal or Royal Doulton plates! Or anything!

And on the flipside, I'm frustrated with myself for caring so much about being teased that I can't just go out and pursue those interests anyway. I'm letting other peoples' silly prejudices affect me, but I can't help it. I'm sensitive enough about being 25, single, and a bit plump, and I feel like doing something "childish" (like collecting porcelain dolls) would brand me forever with the "silly romantic overgrown fat girl, probably a virgin" label (Terry Pratchett readers: think Agnes).

I just want to be able to do what I want and be happy about it, but I can't and it hurts.

And on top of all that I'm lonely and "clucky", and life just isn't any fun at the moment :-(