Below is a poem I wrote to my husband when I was trying to explain to him what it felt like to have autism.
To look at us You and I appear very much the same. Yet I have learned that we experience life, And therefore, view our experiences, Very differently. I have learned that I just don't think like you, No matter how hard I try, And believe me I have. My nervous system seems to be Configured differently. I've learned to do what you do, At least the mechanics of it, But I don't understand Why you do it. I've memorized the words you use And can repeat them fluently. Figuring out what you mean And why you say them Is the hard part. I process words literally, concretely, and naively, Which often leaves me baffled and confused. I thought that by pretending to be you, I would someday understand you. But I don't. Anymore than you understand me. There are times when I join in and genuinely enjoy interacting with you but I rarely feel that I belong. I can focus on you or I can focus on me but understanding the complexity of relationships is very much beyond me. There are times when I can connect with my feelings, or yours but never both at the same time And some emotions not at all. There are times when I really think I understand you then you change, and I don't. Even though I have stopped trying to "be" like you I haven't stopped trying to understand you. It would mean a lot to me If you would try, Just for a little while, To understand what it must be like to be me. Remember those awkward social moments As an adolescent or pre-adolescent When you were trying to "fit in", But didn't really know what was "in" Or what was expected? You stood there in conspicuous silence, Rehearsing everything you wanted to say, Waiting for a chance to speak, Then blurting out some untimely statement Or more than you really intended Not knowing when or how to stop. Imagine having those "moments" occur regularly With family, friends, and strangers alike. Your best defense is to To memorize the required "small talk", Keep your mouth shut, And let others talk about themselves. Meanwhile you struggle to filter out The background noise they so easily seem to ignore, Processing maybe 50% of what they say. Then there is the feeling of panic When the dreaded unexpected question appears Requiring you to suddenly shift from processing to production Without the time you need to do it. It makes you wonder, With interactions so difficult, Why so many people consider socializing To be so much "fun". Remember the time when you were startled By a car horn? Or fire alarm? Or a touch on the shoulder that you didn't expect? Think about what it felt like. Your heart raced. Your senses were being assaulted. Your mind was suddenly jolted out of focus For a brief second or millisecond Until you realized what had happened And could calm back down again. Imagine instead the panic escalating as you Struggle desperately to register what happened, Causing you to feel violated, angry, and disorientated. THEN imagine being asked to function in this state For the next number of minutes or even hour That it takes for your system to pull itself back together again. Imagine what it is like to be startled By everyday experiences, Like the sound of a cup touching a saucer Or someone suddenly making a gesture with their hand in your direction. Think what it is like to have your nervous system put on edge By the sound of someone chewing Or the thought that someone just might come close enough To brush up against you in a crowded room. Your environment becomes a mine field. The bathroom, car and bedroom are your foxholes. I seek ways to block the barrage By hyper focusing my attention On some single object or task, Just as I might do with a good book, To "tune out" a world That provides one with so little peace. Remember those occasions When you couldn't retrieve the names Of people or places or things You know that you should know? Imagine that happening 3-5 times a day. Not being able to make those connections, Or any connections, Without setting memory triggers And practicing words that you want to say in advance. All this just to remember what you need to do or say With people you work with every day. Have you ever looked for something That you expected to be there, And it wasn't, Just when you needed it most? Do you remember that moment of panic And how you froze with indecision As to what to do next? Living life "spontaneously" Would be like this for me A continuous series Of panics and indecision. Despite my many years of experience, My brain still yearns for consistency, Yet finds none. "New" responses require a lot more time Than the milliseconds it requires for you To review all the possibilities, So, my brain either "freezes" Or falls back on "old" responses. Either way I'm "stuck". Later I can think it through And "pre-plan" for the next time, Only next time it is likely to be "new" again. Among the words That I most dread to hear, Yet hear so often, Are "Lighten up! Don't be so Intense." "Don't take life so seriously." In essence you are telling me To stop functioning Because that is what would happen. Remember how hard you worked To learn a sport? Or play an instrument? Or drive a car? Remember how the task initially seemed so overwhelming? You might have thought you would Never reach the ease that comes with mastery. Imagine succeeding But never being free of the need To think your way through each task. Not being able to listen or talk And put a pot of water on to boil at the same time Because each requires your exclusive mental focus to perform, Each and every time. Remember those times when you had more to deal with Than you thought that you could handle And you were ready to blow up in frustration Or collapse in utter fatigue? Perhaps you closed yourself off from others, "Vegged out" in front of the TV Re-organized your closet, Or found some sensory pleasure in which to engage. People seem to understand this need In themselves and others, On occasion. For me this need occurs throughout the day, Every day. When I appear "zoned out" "In a world of my own" Or "obsessively organizing", I'm just trying to conserve energy Or forage through the thicket of input That overwhelms me. I can't wait to get home to collapse, And I can't proceed without planning. To calm my overstressed nervous system I have had to learn "alternative" strategies Such as leaning, propping, Rubbing, squeezing or stretching; Whatever I can get away with That gives me the body movement And deep pressure input I need so desperately throughout the day. I leave the rocking and stimming, Which are more "natural" ways of coping For when I am alone. I have learned that "my way" is "unacceptable". Thus, even my coping behaviors have become Just one more thing for me to "hide". Most people hold on during a crisis and Relax when it is over. I hold on and hold on But am unable to "let go". Instead, when the crisis is over I collapse Because modulation is something My nervous system has never learned to do. It must be hard to understand. I appear, because I hide things so well, Like someone who can handle so much. Yet, inside I experience a roller coaster That is either up or down Rarely if ever experiencing solid ground. If you stop to think about it You do know what it feels like to be me, Briefly, in a less exaggerated way, Just as I experience Briefly, on my more integrated days What I imagine it must be like to be you. As you grow Practiced tasks get easier, Allowing you to add complexity and variety to your life. When growth is hindered, Practiced tasks only get memorized, Not generalized. Each situation must be struggled through As if it were new. Complexity only overwhelms. There is no energy left for variety, Yet what is expected of you and I Remains the same. Think back to a time When you were experiencing an event or period That was particularly difficult And someone said to you, "Oh yeah, I've had that happen to me" or "That happens to everyone at some time or the other". I've been told that the intent of these comments Is to encourage you To do what you had to do to "get past it", To avoid making a "big deal out of it". To me those words are particularly painful. The way my nervous system operates Is an "event" that happens every day Not a situation or feeling that will "pass" with time. It is what I must deal with. I accept myself for who I am And I do what I must do. Yet sometimes, Being me does feel like a big deal And some encouragement would be nice. When I talk about what is particularly hard or frustrating for me I'm not pitying myself nor the life I've been given to live. I'm not suggesting that your difficulties are any more or less than mine. I'm not looking to blame someone Or be excused from what I know are my responsibilities. It would mean a lot to me though If someone would recognize Just how much effort I put into Meeting the expectations in life That you and I share With unequal resources to pull from. I am not looking for recognition for what I have accomplished, Because I am not driven by accomplishments. Most of the time it only serves to remind me of What I have had to compromise within myself To "achieve" these accomplishments. I want recognition for myself as a person. Recognition for how hard I work, Because of and despite my differences, To function in a world That does not readily accept those differences. THAT would make me feel good About how far I have come And encourage me to keep on trying. Is being me a tragedy? Far from it! In fact, if given the freedom to live and do The best I know how, At the pace and in the way I know works for me, I would quite enjoy myself and my life. Alone time is something I very much cherish. It's people time that challenges my nervous system And if I let it, My self-esteem. In some ways My differences have enabled me To develop "talents" That I might not have without them. By using intellect rather than emotions I have earned the respect of co-workers As a mediator during stressful events. My ability to "hyper focus" Once I start on a task Means that others can always count on A job that will be done well Down to the littlest detail. Processing new And especially abstract information Is often tedious for me. I need to see and experience things Before I really comprehend them. But once I do I can use what I have learned In highly creative and holistic ways. I enjoy having and using these talents Just as you do yours. I am fortunate that I have found a profession In which my "talents" are appreciated And my "differentness" accepted. I know others who are less fortunate. They are never given the chance to show their "talents" Because their "differentness" is considered a "disability". It seems odd that we value so much The beauty of diversity in nature Yet seem afraid to share and appreciate The differences among and between ourselves. I'm not asking that life's expectations Be changed for me. I seek only acceptance for the ways I choose to meet them. Remember what gives joy to you Is often extremely uncomfortable for me. The way that you would do something Is often NOT the way that would Enable me to best succeed Or more importantly find pleasure or self-satisfaction In what I might accomplish. I don't experience loneliness Or have the same needs and wants that you do, So, don't pity me for not having what I don't miss or want. I recognize that your life, With all its complexities, Has its own set of difficulties. Your definition of accomplishments And what you find encouraging Go beyond the simplicity Which defines me. I'm only asking for the same rights and freedoms you seek for yourself: To be accepted for who you are, To be the best person that you can be. Don't assume that I want or think or experience The world the way that you do. As nice as you may think it is to be you, I only want to be me. AUTHOR'S NOTE: There was plenty of evidence from my earliest days to suggest that I was on the autism spectrum. For over 50 years I kept my silence and spent a great deal of energy trying to hide my differences...to "be" like everyone else. Most would say that I was successful. I have a career, two master's degrees, and 30+-year marriage. I am only now finding the emotions and sense of self that I had to give up to accomplish this. With it I am discovering just how much I have missed and do not know about living, because I spent so much of my life just trying to survive. Despite everything that I did (auditory training, vision training, sensory processing therapy, vitamins, diets, etc.) to be like everyone else, I did not "cure" myself. I only learned to compensate by "pretending" to be what I was not. Despite persistent sleep and gastrointestinal problems, and now "tics" (which may be secondary to the encephalitis I had as a pre-teen), I am much happier now than I have ever been. I am grateful for the acceptance and support of my husband as well as my old and newly discovered friends.
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AuthorSusan J. Golubock, M.Ed., Autistic O.T, Archives |
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