Just An FYI: I'm Not Normal

[teleen_fiction]

To all of you out there reading this, I'm not normal.  I'm not neurotypical and I'm on the autism spectrum.  I've always been this way - I just didn't have a name for it until very, very recently.

Before you ask, I'm self-diagnosed.  But if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it's fucking Aspergers, m'kay?

Am I bitter?  Little bit.  All my life I've been fucking weird, felt like an outsider and like there was a whole world that I just couldn't understand and I just got to find out that I probably never will.

There's no real treatment for what I have, no magic pill or therapy to make the walls come down and help me to actually understand what most of the population takes for granted.  

I never get to know...  So many fucking things.  I get to feel like I'm on the outside looking in and never really understand...  I'm repeating myself there, but I'm typing this while I'm crying and just...

Just before now, I felt like there was hope, y'know?  I felt like the dancing had helped me quite a bit with my people skills and ability to interact with other people socially.  All it did was teach me how to mask better.  I still want to do all the shit that makes people not want to be around me - I just am able to read other 'normal' people better and realize when they don't want to hear about my... Anything I do.  

And that's what really just fucking hurts.  Most of the people in my real life whom I really wish I could actually relate to - they're puzzles.  They almost feel like a different species.  It's like they were all given directions to life in English and my directions were in Kanji.  

I know how to mask.  I've learned what the accepted social conventions were.  I've learned to let people go on and on about themselves because no one ever wants to really hear what another person has to say (and I know that's not true either, I know it's not, but that's what it feels like.)

And I'm melting down right now.  I have a name for what I was feeling earlier tonight when I got back from eating out with RIII for our anniversary (12 years) and shopping for things we needed at Meijer (first time I've set foot in Meijer in 6 years or so - much better than Wal-mart, cheaper, even if they are likely the devil as well).  I was feeling tired and cranky and overwhelmed with the world for a number of reasons, some of which were actually positive.  

Yesterday, we got a notice from the IRS.  NOT positive, but I spent an hour on the phone with them and was able to actually see some hope.  Not a lot, but some.  I found out that we're actually living pretty cheaply, all things considered, well within the government 'allowance' for people in our situation.  I found out that they have a $126 per month clothing allowance.  I doubt I've spent that much in the last year on clothes, which helped me to feel okay about spending an hour on the phone with Sprint today, working to get discounts from them for being such a loyal customer.  In a couple of days, we're going to be the proud owners of Evo G4's, a SIGNIFICANT upgrade considering that our current phones don't even have cameras.  RIII needs something like it for his freelance graphic design work and I... well, I don't fucking need it, but I rarely if ever get anything for myself and I just wanted it okay?

But you're never supposed to spend money on yourself when you're poor, right?  Well, fuck it.  I already have zero grasp of how the world works so for once I'm going to say fuck what I'm supposed to do and actually give myself permission to be a tiny bit bad.  We get a 20% discount off of our cell phone bill because of RIII's job and with all of the discounts I was able to wrangle out of Sprint we're only going to be paying about $75 per phone (a HUGE discount), so fuck it.  And yeah, I'm trying to justify it to all of you, justify my behavior.

As usual.

All my life I've been justifying and apologizing for how I am.  All my life I've felt like there's been a wall between me and the rest of the world.  It's a wall that one can never scale, so perhaps it's not really a wall, but a bubble.  A bubble with no air that I feel trapped in because I so very much want to be a part of the world around me, but I feel as though I never truly can be.

So I escape into writing and imaginary play.  It's probably why I like my job so much - I can pretend to be normal there and no one knows the difference... most of the time.

Back to my meltdown...  Sometimes, I'm tired and the world is just too much.  I shut down.  I go practically non-verbal.  Scares RIII half to death and I'm realizing that the more behaviors I identify in myself, the more I need to tell him that what I do is normal for me and have coping strategies for it.  

I'm not clumsy on purpose.  I'm not lazy.  I'm not NOT paying attention.  

I'm not doing this to annoy him.  I'm not being intentionally rude and I don't KEEP being rude because I'm thoughtless.  

I can't help it.  I've tried.  I've tried so hard to be normal and I'm just not.  

I don't understand the rules.  There are so many rules that just keep changing on me. 

I was once called 'harsh and power hungry' when I interviewed for a supervisor's position, because I had understood that to lead others, one must have the authority to do so.  I got my house TP'd in grade school because when I was a squad leader I gave another row a bad score.

I was 'too harsh' because I enforced the rules fairly.

At work, I ALWAYS wear a long gown and pasties and I'm considered weird because I it's the rules and I follow the fucking rules.

And I expect the rules to be enforced fairly.  If a policy is in place, I expect people to follow it.  

But they don't.

No one follows the fucking rules.  And those who break them sometimes get caught for it and sometimes they don't.

FYI - if I'm modding or maintaining a community that you're a part of: I try not to be so harsh, but I AM going to enforce the rules fairly across the board, because I can't FUNCTION any other way.  I can't set up a system and then not follow it.  I can't say, "this is the way we do things" and then make it different for some people and not for others.  It hurts my brain to let things slide.  

But I want people to participate, so I haven't been all that anal about things.  I've tried not to be so harsh, but I'm probably still harsher than most because my brain picks up every little detail.

Sometimes.

Other times I can miss HUGE problems that are right in front of me.

Because I don't understand.  Sometimes I try so hard to get something and no matter how I look at it or from how many different angles, it's just not clear to me. 

It's why when I'm in a political discussion, I sometimes don't see the obvious argument.  It's why I seem so fucking 'wishy washy' and YES - THOSE FUCKING COMMENTS HURT ME AND CONTINUE TO HURT ME BECAUSE I CAN'T LET THEM GO, EITHER.  That's the real reason I left fanficrants - I saw what happened to my friend over there and I knew one day it would probably happen to me because I'd miss some unwritten rule.  I'd break Rule #10, which is secret and I'd be gone.  And I don't like breaking the rules.  I don't like feeling as though I've missed something yet again and people are laughing about it behind my back.

And I don't like hurting other people either.  I don't like saying things that are insensitive or rude because again, there's a rule that no one bothered to teach me when I was a kid.  

And it was an obsession for a while, the way that many things have been over the years.  That was why I posted so much there in so short a time - I'd had all of those rants saved up from the time I'd started reading fanfic and they all came out at once.

When I fixate on something, it becomes my entire world for a while.  And when I'm done with it and look back, I honestly can't remember why I got so involved with it in the first place. 

Wow, I thought I was on an upswing from my depression last week, but maybe I was just fooling myself.

Or maybe I've just been reading entries over at asperger and am realizing that I'm not alone and haven't been and maybe I could have had help dealing with this long before now.

I posted over there and felt so welcome, to the point where I wanted to write another post just to say thank you, but I don't want to because I don't want to wear out my welcome.  And more importantly, I don't want to get too involved too quickly and burn out on there too.  Because I actually feel accepted there.  I'm surrounded by people who are EXACTLY like me.

They think like me.  They act like me.  They MELT DOWN like me.  Yes, there are differences, but when I wrote my introduction post about how wrong I'd always felt, there were others who said that they could have written it.  

I'm not alone and it's overwhelming.  It's overwhelming and I'm melting down because of it.

Yesterday and today were good days.  I spent a little over two hours on the phone with two different organizations and got positive results both times.  I went to work last night and did reasonably well, given the crowd.  I went grocery shopping and got some household supplies - things were on sale and I'll be stocking up over the weekend. 

When I got up today, I actually got a few things done around the house.  

I got to give my husband an Evo for our 12th anniversary.  

Because of a long break he had at work tonight, I was able to go out to dinner with him at The Rusty Bucket and have a good piece of fish and go from there over to Half-Price books, where he got a book and I got the DVD version of "Dolan's Cadillac'.  I have a feeling the latter will suck big donkey ass, but I wanted to have it anyway, :).  After he went back to work, I got to go to Meijer and get a bunch more stuff for the house.

By the time I got home, though, I was done.  I was completely overwhelmed with the day.  I felt as though I'd run a marathon.  At least mentally.

Yes, I'd gotten a lot done, but it had mentally exhausted me to the point where I had to go in our cool, dark bedroom and nap for a while.  Just shut down and away from the world so that I'd be able to watch a few hours of TV with him when he got home tonight.

Then he fell asleep, I got on the computer and started reading asperger.  And melted down.

Do you get it?  These have been a good couple of days, but it makes no difference to how I am - too much good can overwhelm me as easily as too much bad.  

I'm not normal.

I never will be.

Accept me for who I am or go away.

According to an informal survey I conducted a couple of months ago, the polite thing to do would be to LJ cut this.  I'll tell you right now - the only reason I'm doing so is because there are things within that could be triggery to people on my friend's list.  

But that's another rule that's not followed, either.  Sometimes people cut when it's over 250 words.

And sometimes they don't.

It's a rule that's broken frequently and it bothers me because I don't understand the rhyme or reason to it.  I don't understand why some people feel special enough to not cut long posts, but it's rude if I don't cut mine.

Actually, that last isn't fair.  No one has EVER called me rude to my face for not cutting something, at least not that I can recall.

But I just don't get it.  I don't understand why sometimes something is rude when I do it but not when someone else does it.

It's rude when I say it, but not when he says it.

It's rude when I think it, but not when she thinks it.

It's rude to voice that opinion... except in this company.

It's rude to lie... Except when it isn't.

It's okay to fuck someone over if you're in love with them and they aren't in love with you (an ex-roommate of ours). 

I don't understand.

And I never will.

And now I have to find a way to live with that.  I have to find a way to live in a world that doesn't understand me and doesn't care to, who sees my differences as a fault and a bad reflection on me and who blames me for not changing what I have no power to change.

And yes, I do realize that this rant could have been written by every marginalized person everywhere, but my pain is not theirs and their pain is not mine.

Their suck doesn't make my suck not suck (Doug Stanhope) and mine doesn't make theirs not suck, either and never will.

My pain is my pain and your pain is yours.  We're both entitled to what we feel except that that seems to be a rule that no one really believes either.

If you're circumstances can be found to be better than someone else's, it's like yours suddenly cease to matter.  Or something.

Again, I don't understand.

I don't understand your rules.

Oh, and while I'm thinking of it - *hugs*.

I tend to comment *hugs* a lot when someone is going through a rough time because I've been told that when someone is going through a rough time, they don't want to hear how it will get better or about my experience going through something similar.  They only want a neutral expression of comfort.  So sometimes, *hugs* is all I can think of and so *hugs* is what I say when I have no clue what else to say, but I want to offer something because I know that there's something that someone who's neurotypical would know to say and I just don't.

And I like getting *hugs*, both irl (though that took a while, I'll admit - thank you, my love) and virtually.  Especially virtually, actually, because irl I have touch issues except with people I know very well.  Which I know sounds odd given my job, but at work I have a whole other mask that's not really me and that mask doesn't mind casual touch.

I like that mask.  

I like being able to pretend I'm normal for a while.  I like having shallow mini-relationships with people, both the men who are my customers and the women with whom I work.  I like that a lot of people there actually think I'm cool, which is weird for me.  Whats more - I actually FEEL normal there.

I feel like I'm just a regular woman while I'm there, that I understand most of the rule... except for the ones that the House doesn't enforce consistently, but those rules pale in comparison to the other rules there that I understand.

Social interaction rules.  It's very simple there.  I give a guy a dance - he gives me money.  I give him a really good dance - he may or may not give me an extra tip.  He doesn't pay - he gets kicked out.  He gets too grabby - I have bouncers who will protect me.

It's all very, very simple.

I understand the rules and they are far more consistent in my club than pretty much any other social interaction I have.

Well, that was something of an epiphany, but I realize that it's actually true.  For those of you who've wondered why I love my job so much, despite everything, it's because it's got a very clear exchange of goods and services and a very well-defined set of social interactions that allow me to be consistent in my interactions, something that makes me... calm.

But it's not so repetitive that I get bored easily (though sometimes it can me).  Still, there are variations in the interaction and sometimes I meet people who's company I actually enjoy.

And most of them have no clue that I'm a freak.

I like that.

I like no one realizing just how odd I am.

I like being able to pretend to be normal, even if it's only for a few hours.

Of course, that pretense has a cost - sometimes I can't got into work and burnout is an answer, but it's not the right answer.

The answer is that ANY prolonged social interaction will wear on me to the point where I want to hide in my house for a little while.  

Hell, even sometimes when I'm on chat for several hours I'll start to feel sensory overload.  It's just the way it is.  My mind starts to disengage. 

But on the internet I can hide it better.

Just like I can hide it better at work because I'm usually moving from person to person fairly quickly before I can get sick of them or the monetary incentive is enough to overcome my discomfort (it's weird how that works, but it does, o_O) or I can go and hide in the bathroom or the dressing room for a little while.

It's why I think that massage therapy would be good, because while I'll have to spend extended periods of time with clients, many of them won't want to converse with me and I'll be able to zone out while my body goes through the motions of a massage.  I do it all the time while I'm dancing.  I just work my body and allow my mind to be wherever it feels like being.  It's not because of the job - it's just how my brain is.

Whatever I'm doing, no matter how much fun I'm having (or how much I like or loathe the activity) a lot of the time it wants to be somewhere else.  It's nothing for or against the activity at hand - it's just the way my mind works.

Staying in the moment is...  difficult for me.

I have this odd urge to just write "The End," even though it would be abrupt and odd. 

The End.

...

PS I'm screening comments, 'cause that's just how I'm rolling on this one.

Comments

[teleens-journal.livejournal.com]

Thanks, :). I'm screening all comments, not just yours, though I'll leave my reply unscreened so that if you want to reply to this you can. :)

[perrrfect-angel.livejournal.com]

Best wishes on finding a good way to set this clearly for your husband to understand. After twelve years with him, I'm sure it will help him see why you do some things that worry him so. And I'm glad that dancing works for you, and helps you. They must be good people running it, giving you the right to not come in when you aren't up for it. When I told them I wasn't working Fri/Sat nights, they wanted to argue with me over it, since most girls make the best money on those nights. I couldn't take the constant butt slapping, the collage boys unwilling to spend a dollar on anyone... while taking up all the best seats. When they started to argue with them, I just gave them A Look that must have said plainly that I was serious, and had no intention of working those nights. I worked one Fri from open at 11am to close at 2am and made a take home of $100. I was not a happy camper to have worked so long and not earned more.

[teleens-journal.livejournal.com]

We're working on it - my therapist helped a bit, :).

They must be good people running it, giving you the right to not come in when you aren't up for it.

We're independent contractors - if they don't want to start keeping track of our taxes, they can't tell us when to come in.

Ugh. I've had shifts like that - they're never cool, :(.