I'm going to start with the name of the blog itself - "Differently Wired." I chose it because that's what I am. My hardware (well, my wetware) is different than most people. There is evidence that the frontal and parietal lobes of the brain develop in a different way than for neurotypical people. I know the article uses "abnormalities" but although it's meant neutrally here, it's a rather loaded term. So, different. Not the same as most people. Which, yes, is what abnormal means, but it has negative connotations.
(Sidenote-I just used the term "neurotypical", and I've had lovely, well-meaning people tell me that "no one is typical." Because to them, I suppose, "typical" has the same sort of loading as "normal." But to me, it doesn't. A neurotypical person is someone whose brain has developed more or less "normally" - the way the majority of human brains develop, or at least within a certain range. They do not have perception problems; if they have social difficulties, it's of different origin; they do not exhibit the same behaviors as people like, well, me. Of course, neither do I, all the time. There's diversity everywhere.)
It's not a mental illness. It's a physical difference that results in a range of issues and behaviors that can make life interesting and sometimes inconvenient. And sometimes maybe, with an ability to focus on small details, or to see patterns or maybe just perceive more (or less) than neurotypicals, convenient. There is a price for both us and those around us, but the other thing, this is how life is and this is how I interact with the world.
It's not caused by upbringing. My mother is one of the warmest, kindest people I know, and yet she has at least two children on the spectrum (and possibly all four. I'm looking at my father a"h.) The whole vaccination thing is a complete fraud as admitted by the original "researcher." And let's not even talk about mercury poisoning, which Aspergers doesn't even resemble.
It's physical. It's no one's fault. Of course, so are many mental illnesses and this isn't a judgment of them. Heck, I'm prone to depression. Not organically so far as I know, but it's still real. It's why I started seeing a therapist in the first place and I am incredibly grateful that I am.
A final term I'm going to use frequently (or so I suspect) is "meltdown." Every so often, something pushes me into overload. I'm usually already tired or hungry or maybe crampy, or otherwise irritated, or otherwise stressed. And something else happens, usually something that makes me angry. Or the irritations reach some sort of critical level. And I can't escape the situation in time or at all, or my logic circuits stop working and I am unable to see my way out, and I, well, melt down. I yell, I cry, I shake. I rub my hands. I flinch away from contact. I refuse to listen to reason - and I know I should even as it happens. It's awful before, during and after - it's horribly embarrassing afterward because an adult should not be acting like a child. And those? Are the good ones. Those END when I get fed or left alone or am removed from the irritation. My nerves stop buzzing and I'm embarrassed but fine.
The bad ones happen, thank goodness, far more rarely. Those are the ones I can't predict AT ALL. I'm usually in an emotional state - usually negative - but not at a point where I'm close to one of the "good" meltdowns. But something triggers me like a punch in the gut, something I didn't expect. And I'm crying and shaking and rubbing my hands (which I'm doing now, when I'm not typing, just at the memory) and it lasts for hours, and even when the worst stops, I'm still on edge, sometimes for days. My nerves just buzz and buzz, I can't sleep and it's horrible.
I'm using "I" because other people, other women, on the spectrum experience these things differently and react differently. This is how Deb acts, and has acted for her entire life although I didn't have a name for it until now.
(Okay, one more term. Stimming. You may know the stereotypes - the autistic child rocking, or flapping his hands, or maybe jumping. These are rhythmic motions that are actually soothing to frazzled, overloaded nerves. I don't do these. They don't bring me comfort. I rub my hands. It can look like wringing or like I'm trying to remove a layer of something (I'm not OCD and I don't think my hands are dirty) or just like I'm rubbing my palms and forearms. My therapist says it's soothing but I don't know. It's just something I find my hands doing and that they NEED to do. I'm very tactile. Texture and touch are very important to me. This is a concentrated touch, I guess. This happens at emotional moments, both positive and negative, if it's an emotion I can't handle well. Or name. Naming emotions is HARD. So, I stim.)
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