try to unzip me, and see my eyes fleeing away from you
like startled ponies. Do you really
know me? If you did, you would know that
if I look at you too long, I might burst.
(from my poem, “You Don’t See It”)
Some of you may have already read my last post in which I talked about my road to an official Asperger’s diagnosis. A recent conversation that I had with my direct supervisor at work plus the fact that this last Monday was National Coming Out Day in terms of the GLBT community spurred me to think and write about the topic of disclosing an autism spectrum diagnosis.
So far, I have been blessed with understanding people in my family, workplace, and social circles, so I have been relatively comfortable and confident enough to disclose my diagnosis (and before then, my self-identification as having AS). However, I do realize that due to misunderstanding and prejudice, not everyone who has an autism spectrum disorder may be in a position to “come out”, so to speak – so I respect the decisions of those who choose not to reveal, or to reveal selectively, for whatever reasons that they have. I’ll be discussing the benefits and possible drawbacks of disclosing, as well as my own personal experience up to this point.
Last I checked,
I wasn’t born with apologies – though some would demand
that I wear them for the apocalypses in my DNA.
(From my poem, “Dear Earthling”)
After a bit of a hiatus, I am coming back to you with a post about something that has profoundly affected me for a long time, although I didn’t realize it until earlier this year. To put it another way, I live at the intersection of AS and PTSD.
Now, what do I mean when I say this? For those of you who have been following my blog, you know that I’ve spoken of my childhood and teenage years, which included physical, emotional, mental, and sexual abuse, as well as neglect – most of which happened between ages twelve and eighteen.
I consult the dictionary of human behavior every day.
I had to load it into my brain and make it learn
that you open doors with hello and
that you close them with goodbye. I had to learn
the mechanics of when to smile, when to laugh.
(From my poem, “You Don’t See It”)
As a woman, I have been aware (painfully at times) of the expectations that Western society and culture has placed upon us, both past and present. I mentioned some of these expectations in my last post when I talked about Aspie women and our unique challenges navigating the social matrix. Some of those expectations are also applied, along with a few others, to women in the realm of romantic relationships. This week,I will discuss those expectations and the challenges that Aspie women might have meeting them when involved in a close relationship.
The raw, the unwrapped, the ripped open wires
inside me call for brand new Hiroshimas.
From DNA, and the world climbing onto my back
I have gone tone deaf to everyone.
(From my poem, “Meltdown”)
In last week’s post, I talked about why we with Asperger Syndrome and other autism spectrum disorders have more difficulty dealing with stress and anxiety. To recap, some of the reasons include low frustration tolerance, unpredictability, monotropism (the tendency to see and focus upon only one part of the picture instead of the whole), and problems reading non-verbal cues. These difficulties can turn an already uncertain and stressful world into a downright frightening one for us. But we are not defeated – there are ways that we can help ourselves cope. I’d like to share a few of those with you in today’s post.