Aspie Burnout & The Worst Migraine of My Life…

This past week was very full-on, as we spent a few days in London, which were brilliant but completely overwhelming for me.  When you look at what we did, it was a fun time away:

We arrived on Tuesday, had lunch at Zizzi’s, then found our hotel and thought about what to do in the evening.  I suggested going to see the new Harry Potter(-ish) film, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.  As to be expected in London, standard cinema tickets were extortionately expensive, so to make it worth the extra money, we went to The Lounge at the Odeon, which was just down the road and on the corner of the road where our hotel was.  The Lounge was for adults only (as in no children under 18 allowed), with dedicated bar service and food menu, as well as leather sofas which reclined and had footrests which elevated – and even a call button for service so you didn’t have to leave your seat during the film!!  The film was fantastic and the viewing experience was top notch, as there were no extraneous noises from the other cinema-goers to irritate me.  We walked back to our hotel and went to bed, ready for another full day ahead.

Wednesday morning, we went downstairs for breakfast.  This is where my first wobble happened.  Every hotel is different – some let you help yourself to a table and food, others want you to wait to be seated and verify you have pre-booked your breakfast.  No one was stood by the door when we reached the breakfast room and when I enquired to an employee if we had to check in or just help ourselves, it became apparent that English was not her first language and she walked off to get someone else without saying a word (and just looking very nervous).  Someone else came back with her and still did not seem to understand my question, so led us to a table then said, “you can help yourselves to the continental breakfast.”  Why lead us to a table when we’re not going to sit down until we have food?  Surely it made more sense to say, “yes, help yourselves and I’ll lead you to a table.” or something like that.  So that frustrated me as it was a whole back-and-forth exchange that didn’t need to be so complicated.  The breakfast offering wasn’t that great either – the milk for the cereal was nearly room temperature (yuck!), the croissants were bordering on stale, the apple I had was mushy and gross, and nothing else on offer appealed to me.  We went back up to the room to prepare to set off for Watford Junction to get to the Harry Potter Studio Tour.

We knew that we had one change on our travels at Euston Station, but what we did not anticipate was the sheer volume of people trying to make it up the escalators – it was like herding cattle, so crowded and disorienting.  When we finally made it into the station to look at the train departure boards, I was overwhelmed by everything around me and only paid attention to seeing “WATFORD JUNCTION” on the departure boards – not thinking twice about it being London Overground (which is what we got) vs London Midland (which is what we wanted).  I thought that it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, or we could go change platforms, but Paul said that it would cost us to swipe our Oyster cards back out again, even though we haven’t gone anywhere, so we stayed and took the London Overground, which took nearly 45 minutes to get to Watford Junction, as it stopped at every. single. stop. along. the. way.  [The London Midland service would have gotten us there in 20 minutes.]  Thankfully, when we eventually arrived, the designated coach that runs directly between Watford Junction and the Studio Tour was still waiting by the kerb, so we dashed for it and got on board before it set off.

Queueing for entry to the Studio Tour wasn’t too terrible, though it was surprisingly crowded for a Wednesday morning (during term-time as well).  Seeing everything on the tour was hampered by the other tourists/visitors getting in my way when I was trying to see something or snap a picture – I realise this sounds childish, but I would stand aside to let people take their photo before trying to take mine, but I kept being cut off and blocked and at times I genuinely wondered if I was invisible. 😦  We did enjoy going around and seeing all the authentic objects/props/sets from the films… it truly was magical.  Lunch was expensive (as one would expect from a prime London tourist spot) and the Butterbeer was weird (Paul thought it tasted like butterscotch and Irn-Bru, and I thought the frothy foam top was a bit too sweet for my liking), but I’m glad we tried it.  We showed great restraint in the gift shop at the end, only purchasing a Hogwarts crest fridge magnet and picking up our Collector’s Guide (which was purchased as part of our ticket package).

The London Midland service back to Euston was a lot quicker.  We got back in plenty of time to grab a quick bite near the hotel, drop our Harry Potter stuff off and minimise our carried possessions to head off to the concert in Islington.  When we changed from the Central to Victoria lines, the Tube was quite full and busy, but I just counted the number of stops until we made it to Highbury & Islington.  When we arrived at the platform, the place was absolutely packed – unbeknownst to us, there was a home game for Arsenal and loads of punters were using the Underground to get to the match.  It took several minutes to get through the throng of people – Paul stayed behind me with his hands on my hips, which made me feel safe and secure – and when we made it to the ground level near the exit, I needed to stand off to the side to catch my breath and de-stress a bit.  I had never been in such a crowded situation like that where it was so closed-in (the last time we were in a similar situation was when we saw the Manic Street Preachers at Cardiff Castle and were trying to exit with the thousands of attendees through one of the two castle entryways, but at least it was out in the open).

The concert hall was easy to find and we were up in the balcony quite quick to secure good seats in the first row; Paul was very happy with our positioning in line with one of the speaker stacks.  The comedian who was emceeing was a bit obnoxious (I didn’t laugh at any of his material), the supporting act Haiku Salut was a bit too avant-garde for my liking (though I didn’t exactly dislike their set either), comedian Ed Byrne was hilarious, and PSB’s set was brilliant.  The one-off show was in benefit of Bowel Cancer UK and over £12,000 was raised.

The Tube was a fair bit quieter heading back to the hotel afterwards, as the football finished before the concert did.

Thursday morning breakfast was a bit of a palaver too, but this time it was just too crowded and too noisy for me – the ceilings were quite low, there were a lot of people, the tables were all quite close together, and all I could hear was silverware banging and clanging on plates and bowls – it was enough to drive me mad.  We quickly ate and went back up to the room and had a little lie-down with the curtains drawn and one of the dim sidelights on.  Paul gave me a cuddle and I got a bit weepy, but then I got cross with myself for getting weepy over something so trivial, but I was genuinely feeling so overwhelmed by all the extraneous sensory input over the last few days.  After about 20 minutes (and an episode of BoJack Horseman on Netflix), I felt ready to pack up and check out of the hotel.

Sitting in the Victoria Coach Station departure lounge was the most irritating experience, to say the least.  Every few seconds, the three-toned chime for an upcoming announcement would sound, followed by someone blowing into a microphone and saying “one two one two, testing”, followed again by the three-toned chime.  Repeat that at least 25-30 times over the course of an hour.  After about 5 minutes, I had to put earplugs in, but that didn’t help silence it completely, and I didn’t have my headphones or iPod to listen to music to drown it out, but it was slowly driving me mad.  Ten minutes prior to boarding our coach, Paul asked for the ticket, which I handed him.  He said, “the date is wrong.”  He had asked me to change our departure time a few days before from 16:30 to 12:30, but National Express’s website clearly did not keep my selection of Thursday 24th as it changed to Tuesday 22nd – effectively, turning around 40 minutes after arriving in London to return home!!  I naturally started to panic, but Paul said to keep cool.  He handed the coach driver the paper with his thumb over the date – everything else from the departure time to the coach number matched – and the driver accepted it and welcomed us onto the coach!!  I couldn’t believe it – thankfully the coach was less than half full, so it’s not like we were taking seats away from other travellers, but I was so grateful to not have to shell out extra money I didn’t have to amend it a second time.  I am grateful for positive outcomes like this!! 🙂

Thursday evening when we got home, I was zonked.  There was no way I had the energy to go to my usual choir session, so I instead went to dinner with Paul, his mother, and his uncle & aunt who were visiting from London.  Not quite a traditional Thanksgiving dinner (which I no longer observe), but a nice meal out nonetheless. 🙂

Friday was a busy day at work catching up on all the things that had accumulated in my inbox while I was away, along with picking up a quite serious safeguarding concern with a senior officer.  I was only too glad to be able to pack up at the end of the day and head home.  That evening was a Big Sing event with my choir where about 250 participants from across the 5 choirs our leader oversees met in one large room in a small assembly hall complex.  Whilst the sound we made was amazing, the PA had to be a bit louder than usual and the chatter of everyone around prior to starting was a bit much, so I put my earplugs in until my usual companions from my choir arrived and sat near me.  I also got to disclose my Autism diagnosis to two of my three usual companions, as an opportunity has not easily presented itself since we started up again in September and I wasn’t quite sure how to share it.  [Coincidentally, I saw this blog, Coming Out Autistic, posted today by Anonymously Autistic which I will also separately address in another post soon.]  I got home much later than expected because the northbound motorway was shut and taking the parallel-running A-road took about 20 minutes longer, thanks to the increased lorry traffic.  I went to bed and fell asleep pretty much straight away.

That brings us to Saturday morning.  Just gone 6:00, I woke up needing the loo and had an absolutely pounding headache – most certainly a migraine.  Did my business and went back into the bedroom, took an Imigran and climbed back into bed to go back to sleep.  Woke up again just gone 9:30, no effect from the Imigran, this time feeling quite nauseated.  Rolled over in bed, nausea got worse – a mad dash to the bathroom to be sick.  I have never had this effect from a migraine before.  Got back into bed and about half an hour or so later, tried rolling over again more gently this time – same again.  Then got myself into a more comfortable stable position where I would try not to move and slept from about 10:10 to 13:40, when Paul came in to see if I wanted lunch and if I was still alive.  My head was still killing me, but I wasn’t hungry.  He offered to bring me a few Pringles to nibble on, which I gratefully accepted, along with my prescription sunglasses (as it was too bright for me to just wear my regular ones without excruciating sensitivity).  After about 10-15 minutes, I thought I’d try going downstairs for a bit, hoping that being vertical and out of the bedroom might help, but I only lasted about 20 minutes before I had to retreat back to bed for another two and a half hours.  By 16:40 when I woke up again, I could not detect a residual headache.  I slowly sat up, fully expecting to be hit with it again, but I wasn’t.  I went downstairs with my regular glasses on and felt – dare I say it – fine.  We managed to keep our plans for the evening with some friends (as I had to postpone my plans with my cousin during the day for obvious reasons) which I was fully expecting to have had to cancel.  After having a bit to eat and a shower, I felt like my usual self again and couldn’t believe I had been laid out by that migraine for so much of the day.

On reflection, I think this was a classic case of Aspie Burnout.  I have seen this a couple of times floating around on the internet, but this best explains the migraine from hell.  I have never had one make me physically ill before – and I hope to never have one like that again – but it clearly was my body & mind’s way of saying, “STOP. Just stop what you’re doing and rest.”  I cannot remember the last time I slept that long, but I clearly needed it; I was even able to fall asleep without issue after we got home from our friends’ house on Saturday night.

As a bit of supplemental reading, please check out this post from Planet Autism BlogAspie Burnout, which also references The Spoon Theory, another good way to look at what I experienced.  I hope by sharing my experiences, others will be able to read them and say, “Yeah! I had that too!” 🌸

30 Things I’ve learned since learning that I “have” Asperger’s / autism

After a cognitively exhausting two weeks, coming across this has been a relief. I am “my own worst enemy” and even though many people around me say that I need to not be so hard on myself, I recognise that I really need to work on the “being kinder to myself” bit and the “explaining myself in a Spoonie context” bit. 🌸

the silent wave

(To be clear, when I write words like “I ‘have'” and “people ‘with'”, I’m not trying to advocate or emphasize a person-first viewpoint.  Truthfully, I’m very much a proponent of identity-first language; I simply title my posts the way I do (and occasionally use those phrases in the text of the post) to make this blog and its posts more search-engine-friendly, in order to reach–and hopefully help–more people, because they’ll likely use person-first search strings.  OK, with that said, moving forward…)

The last seven-plus months have been a complete game-changer for me (and at least a few others that I know of).  The learning curve has been steep at times, but all the neat positive and encouraging resources, authors, blogs, social media accounts, social media groups, and internet forums out there have all lubricated the uphill climb for me, making for a much easier ascent through the learning process.

The…

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My White Whale – The Interview (Take 2)

Or: How Moby Dicked Me Over Again

[clever alternate title courtesy of Paul 😉]

[For context, see My White Whale – The Interview

UGH.  I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of a massive meltdown and am desperately trying to hold myself together.  This week I have been contending with a cold, an interview (detailed below), discovering an attempted break-in to our house (looked like an opportunist and thank goodness they didn’t succeed, but dealing with the police and home insurance has been cognitively demanding), and feeling a growing sense of dread over the American Presidential election next week (I can’t even go there right now… either outcome fills me with dread, but obviously one outcome would be far worse than the other).

We came back from our holiday the other week with me having a little bit of a scratchy throat.  Participating in an outdoor choir performance the next day probably didn’t help things and I now have my standard autumnal viral infection/”cold” and persistent cough.  Greaaaat.

On Monday, I had an interview with my local Local Authority for a position with the SEN Casework Team.  As I now have my official diagnosis, I was able to confidently ask for the reasonable adjustment of having the written questions available to me in the interview (n.b. not asking for them beforehand) and I thought that surely I would be able to approach this interview in the best position possible – I’m interviewing for a job I’m doing every day anyway, and I don’t have to solely rely on my auditory processing skills to be able to fully answer the questions – WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

Lots, apparently.

This service had recently undergone a massive restructuring so there were 5 posts advertised – 3 permanent, 2 fixed term – and two of the three permanent posts would have been great for me.  Despite being kept waiting in the lobby for 45 minutes beyond my scheduled interview time without so much as a “We’re very sorry but we’re running late,” and apologising to the interview panel for still being a bit poorly, I thought I actually did a really good interview.  I was rattling off things relating to the Code of Practice and Education Health & Care Plans and I thought my scenario examples were quite good and gave sufficient evidence of what (I thought) they were asking for in the questions.

They had three full days of interviews (I was advised that they received over 60 applications for these posts) and two days to make decisions and callbacks were made today.  I was told that I scored highly on the knowledge side of things (in terms of understanding the Code of Practice and technicalities of the position), but that I did not score as highly in giving examples of managing difficult scenarios – not that I scored low, but that other candidates scored higher.  With so many qualified applicants, the odds were stacked.

I’m quite disappointed (for obvious reasons) because I really thought I did the best interview possible, but I guess my ability to understand what the interviewers are looking for is still a hindrance (yay for my Aspie brain).  I expressed my disappointment and said that I am very keen to work for this Council again, and she said that it certainly wasn’t a poor interview, but that there were just so many very qualified and able candidates.  What was quite encouraging was that she said to try again if another job was advertised.

However, I am really in the best situation because I had nothing to lose with applying for this job: I have my current job and I have super-supportive colleagues and senior staff around me.  I really cannot say enough about how wonderful they really are; we have a laugh/cry/rant together, we look after each other, and they understand me.  I am not actively trying to leave, but I had to take the punt with this authority as it is closer to home and I’m getting bored of commuting 40-ish minutes each way every day (except when I’m working from home, which can be once or twice a week).

Obviously, it’s not a case that I expected to be given the job because I disclosed that I am autistic; if anything, I still feel like even with the reasonable adjustment of having the questions printed for reference in the interview itself, that still doesn’t change the fact that the questions are quite ambiguous and what I think may be relevant may not be what the interviewers are looking for – it’s that whole Theory of Mind thing again.  I find it hard to anticipate what exactly they want me to respond with.  Do questions have to be ambiguous (even for neurotypicals) because anything else would give the answer away in an inadvertant way and not end up having the “weeding out” effect that interviewing is designed to have?  I feel like there is still a lot that is not understood about autism presentation in adults, especially those who want to work, which is the focus of the current campaign that the National Autistic Society is running about closing the autism employment gap [sign the petition by clicking the link].

I realise that I am in the 16% minority of autistic people in employment; however, I have had brief periods of unemployment a few years ago when a job I had gone for turned out to not be what I was expecting at all and I ended up being fired from it after two and a half months.  I had never felt like such a complete and utter failure before and I hope to never feel that way again.  It was a very bleak and depressing time for me.

When a new job did not come up within the next few weeks, I finally applied for Job Seekers Allowance – my first time ever on any sort of benefit – and when I tried to get it backdated to when I lost my job in the first place, they rejected it and said, “You should have applied straight away.”  How is someone who has never been unemployed or on any benefits supposed to know that implicitly?  When I left that awful job, they didn’t give me any sort of information as to what to do next!  Even thinking about it now brings up awful memories of the deeply rejecting feelings I had.

I still have to indicate on any CV or job application the periods of time I had unemployed (after losing that job and when short-term temporary contracts ended), and while those were in 2012/2013 and I’ve been continuously employed since Sept 2013, I still have to answer to those employment gaps, which would be minor in comparison to others on the Autism Spectrum, I’m sure. In this way, I’m grateful for my diagnosis now so that I can put my past employment experiences into a context of my undiagnosed Autism and hopefully this will help me move forward with future job applications.

We don’t want to sit at home doing nothing; we know that we have a lot to contribute to a job.  We just need to be given reasonable adjustments to show what we can do.

As with every application rejection, I will eventually get over it… but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt right now. 🌸

‘How can you not hear that??’ communicating sensory difficulties

I have always had sensory sensitivities but never knew that was what they were called; I always felt like others thought I was just being dramatic, so I rarely said anything. It’s nice, in a way, to have these sensory differences acknowledged. 🌸

YennPurkis

I’m not sure if this is the case for anyone else but the older I get, the worse my sensory sensitivities are. I used to be able to eat almost anything and it all tasted good and had a texture which didn’t revolt me. Now I am anxious about going to restaurants in case they have nothing I can happily eat.  I eat exactly the same dish every night unless I get take away, in which case I usually order the same dish! (Except for pizza. I think it’s pretty hard to make pizza horrible). To the horror of my vegetarian, vegan and health conscious friends, the things I am able to eat mostly come from the meat group or the sugar group! I am only 42 so worry that if I get old I might only have one thing I can eat!

I also have an increasingly heightened sense…

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Migraines.

I’m fed up of getting migraines.

First, I’ll apologise that it’s been quite quiet on Facebook, Twitter and here.  In the lead up to Paul and I going away for a four-night break, trying to get life sorted was proving to take a bit more energy than usual.  I don’t like sharing articles on Facebook unless I’ve actually gotten to read it first (and make sure it’s not just click bait) and I’ve just not had the mental energy to process whatever I’d be reading.

Since we came back from our little holiday, not only am I contending with my period kicking in a couple of days late (no scares, though – no little cherry blossom buds anytime soon! 😉), but it seems like my migraines are starting to become a bit more frequent again, which troubles me.

I’m not stupid enough to Google every time I have a headache because WebMD has predicted my demise no fewer than a dozen times.  However, I heard on the radio the other evening of a woman was left with severe brain damage after medics at the hospital did not correctly diagnose her severe headaches as being the result of a devastating brain infection; this happened in 2009, but it was in local news because a financial settlement was reached due to the negligence in her case.  Things like this terrify me.  It’s not like I’m a hypochondriac or anything, but I can’t help but think whenever I get one of these migraines seemingly out of nowhere – “is this how I die?”

I’m grateful that I am able to get Imigran (sumatriptan) through my NHS prescriptions, as it is quite expensive to buy over the counter (or from behind the counter, as a pharmacist would have to agree to sell it – it’s not like ibuprofen!).  However, I’m becoming concerned with how many I’m having to take in order to kick a migraine fully.

When I started taking Imigran (after codeine and some other anti-inflammatory didn’t work), one 50mg tablet got rid of it within an hour.  Brilliant!  To get my life back within an hour when before I could be laid out in bed for a day and a half was amazing.  As time went on though, one 50mg tablet would get rid of it within an hour… but it would sneak back after about 24 hours.  Another tablet and then it would seem to “take the hint” and would jog on.  Then it was one 50mg tablet… then another 24 hours later… then another 24 hours later.  So I read up if it was safe to take more than one (which it was, for me).  So when a migraine kicked in, I’d take two 50mg tablets… within the hour, it was gone and wouldn’t come back! Brilliant!  So a couple of months ago, after tracking this for a few months, I asked my GP if my dosage could be increased to 100mg.  She was reluctant to do this but instead increased the number of tablets I would get whenever I received my prescriptions (up from 12 to 18).

Fast forward to Sunday just gone.  Period kicked in three days late and with a vengeance.  Dull all-over headache, not sure if it was a migraine as I wasn’t too sensitive to movement or smells, though a bit sensitive to bright light.  Took 2 ibuprofen, but this did nothing whatsoever.  Tried going to bed at just gone 10pm… couldn’t fall asleep.  Took one 50mg tablet and went back to bed… must have worked a treat because I next woke up when I was supposed to, though after I got out of the shower and got dressed for work, the “fuzziness” was coming back, so I took one more 50mg tablet and went to work.  By the time I made it to the office, all was good in the world again (as good as it could be for a Monday morning), so I cracked on with my first day back from leave – 128 emails to sort through? Okaaaay…

By the time I headed home, the heavy headed fuzziness was coming back again.  I persevered for the rest of the evening, hoping it was just the stress of the first day back causing it and that having a quiet evening in would help, but it wasn’t relenting at all.  Again, it wasn’t restricting me from doing anything, it was just making me feel really tired and not keen to do anything.  At bedtime, I took two and hoped that this would sort it out once and for all.

Tuesday morning, I woke up feeling great again.  Business as usual, no big deal.  Just after lunchtime, someone came to work in the touchpoint room where my desk now lives (see Reasonable Adjustments) who STANK of cigarettes.  The room was quite warm too, which was making it worse.  My throat was becoming more hoarse as the afternoon went on and it was becoming intolerable (not sure if I’ve ever mentioned before, but I am asthmatic too); the headache was also creeping back.  I ended up leaving a bit early because I just needed to get out of this man’s proximity.  I went to join the motorway and saw standstill traffic (most likely a collision), so had to quickly loop round the junction’s roundabout and re-route myself.  I had brought my gym stuff with me to go have a little workout before Pilates last night, but with the rural re-route adding nearly 20 minutes to my drive, I was feeling so drained.  I had to pick Paul up on my way home too and he could see from my face that I was just in need of going home and staying there, so we didn’t go work out and we didn’t go to Pilates either, which really bummed me out.  The headache lingered all evening and would not bugger off.  Determined to not take another Imigran, I took 4 ibuprofen instead a couple of hours before going to bed, and by the time we got upstairs to go to bed and it hadn’t kicked in, I knew that I was likely going to need to take more in the morning.  To help me sleep in the meantime, as I feel a cold creeping in, I took a dose of NightNurse and had a quite peaceful night’s sleep (though some baked-out dreams!).

That brings us to this morning.  The headache was still there.  It’s not typical (at least not for me) to keep coming back like this.  Again, I took two 50mg tablets before going to work, and so far, so good (thankfully Mr Smoker has not set up shop in the touchpoint again today!).  I’m really worried though that if I wake up with the headache again tomorrow, should I be ringing the GP?  NHS 111 helpline?

I hope that it has just been a bad combination of overlapping triggers – hormones, stress, environmental aggravation – and is not foreboding to something more sinister.

I’ve not looked into the incidence of migraines among Aspies and wonder if any research has been done on the subject… another search for another day, methinks.

Please comment below if you suffer from migraines and if there are any particular remedies which work for you, or if you have any insight into what I’ve described in this long rambling post! 😊 🌸

Interview with Samantha Craft of Everyday Aspie

When Samantha Craft of Everyday Aspie posted on her Facebook page about doing a “blog tour” of interviews with other bloggers, I had to reach out!  She may be best known for doing the unofficial but widely shared list of Ten Asperger’s Traits (Women, Females, Girls) – one of the first lists I came across during my preliminary investigations into my own Aspie-ness.  I am grateful for her time in completing my interview questions and I hope you enjoy getting to know more about her! 😊🌸


Firstly, thank you for your time and welcome to …i am my own experience… and this “stop” on your blog tour!

Thank you for taking the time to interview me.  I love the name “Cherry Blossom Tree.”  I have a beautiful aged cherry blossom tree right out my dining room window.

I’ve really enjoyed reading your book, Everyday Aspergers [Amazon UK eBook], and understand that it took ten years to compile and get published – a big achievement indeed!  What brought you to writing a blog in the first place?

Yes. I am quite relieved the process is over.  It still feels a bit unbelievable.  Thank you for taking the time to read the book.  I appreciate that.  I began blogging in my mid-forties because I was confused by my own diagnosis in regard to what Asperger’s meant to me and how it related to who I already was.  I also continued writing because of an experience I had at a university I was attending, in which I was shamed for mentioning I had Asperger’s Syndrome.  I was motivated to keep writing to show others they weren’t alone and to spread the word about autism, particularly autistic women and late-age diagnosis.  But mostly, it was a place for me to process my own thoughts.

Can you tell me about what has helped you in blogging?

Hmmm.  That question can be taken a few different ways.  What helped me to blog was all of the thoughts and ideas I had in my head.  Getting the diagnosis triggered this whole self-analysis, and that in turn triggered my need to express myself through writing.  I’d say the angst inside was a primary motivator, that and the initial support (and later ongoing support) that I received from other bloggers, and later on fellow Asperians

How would you describe your blogging style?

At first I largely entertained.  I thought I had to produce something of value to keep anyone interested.  There is a lot of humour in my writings during the first year on my blog Everyday Asperger’s.  Later, I started to write from the heart, to purge my soul, so to speak.  I would simply sit at the computer and listen to myself tell me what to write.  It was similar to taking dictation.  I just wrote what I heard… my fingers typed.  It was a very healing process and very therapeutic.  I rarely set out to write on a specific subject or topic, and let what was in me rise up and spill out onto the pages.  Most of my time went to editing, sometimes a few hours, because of my dyslexia and dysgraphia and the way I process language.  The content itself flowed out quite naturally, and sometimes too fast for my fingers to keep up!

Was there a particular author/writer who inspired you to write?

No.  I did run into AlienHippy at the start.  She has a wonderful Christian-based blog on her experience as an adult Asperian.  If anyone motivated me to continue on, it was her, and a few others; not because of their writing, but because of their kind spirits.

Can you briefly explain for my readers about when you first wondered if/realised that you might be on the Autism Spectrum?

I first seriously considered I might be on the spectrum after I had been taking my middle son to therapy.  As part of the requirement for the master’s degree program in counselling I had started, I had to visit a mental health therapist.  She happened to be my son’s therapist, and I asked her if she suspected I might have ASD, and she was most definitely sure I did.  From there, I sought out an official diagnosis.

How has writing your blog helped you during your diagnostic journey? Has it been a hindrance at all?

The only hindrance happened when one person was offended by something I did/said on Facebook, which I cannot remember at this point, nor can I remember the person’s name.  (That’s one of the benefits of dyslexia, face-blindness, and short-term memory issues – I don’t often remember people who, at one point or another, caused me strife).  I was deeply vulnerable the first year or so after I was diagnosed and took people’s opinions to heart.  I have sensed grown a lot and have tons of strength.  But back then, I almost stopped blogging based on judgments and assumptions a person was not only saying about me but spreading on Facebook.  I actually wrote a post about the entire experience, not referencing the person or supplying clues about the person.  I didn’t wish any retaliation to come that person’s way.  I was deeply hurt.  But overall, astonishingly, with well over 1 million hits on that blog, that was the only incident!  I certainly didn’t think when I started I would be blogging over four years, that’s for sure.

When did you get the idea for My Spectrum Suite? How long did it take for it to become what you hoped for it to be?

When I was about to publish my book, I wanted to form a company to represent the book, beyond the publisher.  I wanted a place to display activities associated with Asperger’s, speaking engagements, and share about some of the awesome people I met on the spectrum.  I created Spectrum Suite to showcase Aspergians’ gifts in art and literature.  I also have a great resource page their of other ASD professionals and artists.

How has becoming a known name in the online Autism/Asperger’s community been for you? What (if anything) would you change about it?

It doesn’t feel real most of the time.  When I went to the FABULOUS ANCA Worldwide Autism Festival event in Vancouver, Canada in early October this year, I walked into a formal award event and the sweetest lady (animation artist), Liz, turned around and said, “Are you Samantha Craft?  You are my idol.  I’ve been following you for years.”  Then the lady behind me, another nominee up for Community Mentor, tapped me on the shoulder and whispered with a smile, “I follow your blog, too.”  Turns out most of the women from the US at ANCA knew of me or my blog.  That felt strange.

I don’t often feel emotions about what I’ve accomplished.  I know logically I have accomplished something but don’t feel any sense of pride.  The process felt necessary and natural to me — to process, to share, to give, to connect, to write.  It wasn’t something I set out to do; meaning, I didn’t set out for people to know me.  When I do feel a sense of accomplishment is when I am able to connect one autistic to the others I know and form new friendships and companionships for individuals.  I am most happy about that.  I cry about that.  The rest doesn’t seem significant, even though perhaps it ought to.  Kind of like if you brushed your teeth and got thanked for it.  I was doing something I felt I not only needed to do, but had to do.  It was my calling and soul’s purpose.  And I benefited from the experience internally, just as much as anyone else, if not more.

I’m quite excited to be part of the International Aspergirl® Society with you! As it’s still quite new, what do you hope for the future with this Society and for Aspie women and girls?

That’s great you are a member.  With all I’m doing, you need to nudge me and remind me to pop on in.  Rudy has some great videos listed there.  I hope that her vision for the society is reached and that more and more women find a voice, connection, and a way to use their gifts.  I think organizations like Rudy’s can go along way in providing opportunity, education, awareness, and a safe place for autistics.

If you had the chance to speak to your younger self, what advice would you give her?

I actually wrote a letter to my younger self twice in the book.  One about letting her know everything is going to be okay and one about puberty and boys.  Those are the things I’d still tell her.  I’d let her know that despite what she thinks she is brilliant, loving, pretty, and going to be safe one day.

To conclude, what would be five random facts about you that no one would ever guess? [these don’t need to be too personal, but just a bit fun!]

Oh, that’s a great question!  Let’s see.  Most people know so much about me! I like to joke I am a literal open book now . . . hmmm . . Off the top of my head:

  1. My uncle dated Patty Hearst. (I love to share that one for some reason)
  2. I am very self-conscious of my upper arms, and have been since I was in my 20s.
  3. I get mad at myself, if I think anything judgmental about anyone.
  4. I don’t know if I ever want to write another book, after the long process to write the first.
  5. I love my toes. They are really cute.

Thank you for this wonderful interview. Thank YOU for your lovely responses!


Please be sure to check out Samantha Craft’s pages across the Internet!

My First Special Interest: The Beatles

strawberry-fieldI’ve been a Beatles fan for as long as I can remember.  Growing up with a British father pretty much guaranteed that I would be a lifelong fan, though I can’t exactly say that the same follows for a handful of bands my mother liked (*cough* Jethro Tull, for example *cough*).

I grew up in a household with a plethora of CDs and a fair few Rock & Roll Encyclopaedias.  I loved looking at the album artwork for the CDs and through the contained booklets and their photographs and printed lyrics.  I would sit for ages flipping through the rock & roll books and read up on almost anything and everything.  When I worked out the discography order of The Beatles’ albums, I proceeded to listen to them in chronological order (because anything else is sacrilege) in order to immerse myself in the music.  I learned the lyrics with almost encyclopaedic precision.  I can pretty much tell you what album any song is on and what year the album was released.  We had a LaserDisc player when I was growing up – which my husband loves to rib me about because of its now obsolete existence, but I maintain that I was watching HD video before HD was a thing!! – and we had The Beatles films of A Hard Day’s Night, Help!, Magical Mystery Tour and Yellow Submarine on LaserDisc, which I would watch frequently and scan back (“rewind”) my favourite lines over and over again to try to pick up their subtle but brilliant British wit.

What always disappointed me though was that not one of my friends in school were as remotely interested in The Beatles as much as I was, if interested at all (*scoff* philistines).  I learned quite early on that when no one else is as interested in the same things as you, you stop waffling on about it because no one will like you.  It was a very tricky thing to suss out and conclude because I desperately wanted someone else to be as excited about The Beatles as I was, but was sorely disappointed that in my very small town (and an equally small selection of peers) I was unable to find that person.  I was grateful that my three closest maternal cousins loved watching A Hard Day’s Night whenever we had a sleepover at our house with them and always laughed along with me at the funniest parts.

When the Anthology series came out in (*gasp*) 1995, little 11-year-old me was entranced and enchanted by the old footage and learning absolutely everything possible about my first favourite band.  I think this is when I first developed my crush on Paul McCartney… it makes me cringe writing that now because he’s 42 years my senior and a crush like that is clearly wholly inappropriate, but I found younger Paul (circa 1964 to 1967) really cute; Let It Be era and beyond? Meh – too beardy, too much mullet.  Now?  Absolutely not, bless him – I’m not one of those women who goes after much older men, especially one who is older than my own father!  I just liked how he looked then, thought he had a very cute face and I think I was intrigued by him being left-handed too (always kinda wished I was ambidextrous).  It’s so hard to explain without feeling absolutely reduced to being 11-years-old again!!  My friend Katherine Uher (formerly known as Green) did an amazing presentation about Romantic Attachments for Girls with ASD at The Autism Show this summer (check out the PowerPoint slides here).  I still like watching old Beatles footage and sometimes just staring at young Paul McCartney’s face… hell, it’s why I chose my husband’s alias on here as Paul!  I don’t mean for it to sound creepy, but I don’t know how else to explain it. 😟

The funny thing though is that when I look back at boys/guys that I’ve had crushes on in the past, with one exception, all guys that I liked sort of fit the young Paul McCartney archetype – tall, lean (not “skinny” as such), dark hair, dark eyes, cute/kind face.  I’d dare to say that my husband fulfils this “criteria”, as it were – I’ve always found him very cute and nice to look at; he does not see himself as being especially handsome, but I tell him frequently that I love him and find him very attractive.  Please do not interpret this as me being superficial or shallow; obviously, he and I have chemistry and matching personality attributes which led us to date and subsequently get engaged and married (five years married, eight years together come January 2017).  What I’m simply saying here (in probably not the most articulate way) is that I have a definite “type”, I suppose.

Of all the non-essential information out there that could possibly occupy the precious real estate of my brain, I think there are definitely worse things to have in there other than having the order of the album releases, the entire scripts of their films (well, maybe not as airtight with Magical Mystery Tour), being able to hear a song and tell you which album it’s on, and having all the lyrics to all of their songs emblazoned in my mind forever.  I’ve always suppressed my feelings of utter geekiness around The Beatles because I never saw anyone else being as deeply interested as I was.  Whilst “my Paul” (husband) understands, appreciates and respects my love of The Beatles and has learned more about them through me, it’s still my own special interest. 😀  We went to Liverpool for my 30th birthday and did a Beatles Fab Four Taxi Tour [highly, highly recommend] and saw many important Beatles landmarks in Liverpool – categorically the best birthday ever!!  The Strawberry Field photo at the top is from our trip, as well as the two photos below.

Thank you for reading my Ode to The Beatles!! 😀