Outgoing

My Love/Hate Relationship with Concerts: Stimming Joy & Sensory Overload

I’ve loved music as long as I can remember… from singing along to “Shout” by Tears for Fears on MTV before I could properly talk to stim-listening to the same Manic Street Preachers song repeatedly, music has featured in my life in one way, shape or form.

My first ever concert experience was 25 years ago today – 15th July 1993 at Melody Fair Theatre in North Tonawanda, New York.  I was 8 years old and attended The Moody Blues “A Night at Red Rocks” tour, my first outing alone with my parents since my brother was born a little over four years prior (he stayed with my grandparents while we went to the concert)… I remember feeling really excited to get the alone time with my parents, and I really liked The Moody Blues’ music.

(Before anyone decides to poke fun or anything, how many 8-year-olds do you know with their own taste in music that was not at all influenced by their parents?)

Because this was 25 years ago and I’ve slept a lot since then, I only remember snippets from the whole experience.  Melody Fair had a circular stage in the middle of a dome-shaped structure which slowly rotated throughout the concert (the stage, not the building!)… at one point as the band rotated past us, bassist John Lodge waved at me!  I remember one of my foam earplugs fell out (knowing me, I was probably fiddling with it because it felt funny or something) and I couldn’t believe how loud it was.  I looked to my dad for help and he whisked me out of my seat to the rear of the auditorium to put my earplug back in and settle me down.  We went back in and enjoyed the rest of the show.  I loved the feeling of being immersed in the music and seeing a band that I had only ever seen in music videos on TV in person.

We didn’t know back then that I was autistic or had sensory sensitivities; my dad was acting as a concerned and attentive parent, ensuring that his young daughter’s hearing was protected.

Fast forward 25 years.

I can’t remember how many concerts I’ve been to, but I’ve seen The All-American Rejects nine times between 2003-2012 and Manic Street Preachers nine times as well between 2010-2018, so that’s at least 18 concerts… Roger Waters three times (twice The Wall 2011 & 2013 and once US+THEM 2018)… Flight of the Conchords twice (2010 & 2018)… you get the picture.

The phrase “I like going to concerts” is a bit of a misnomer.  Being a pedantic amateur linguist, the more accurate phrase for me would be “I like actually being in my seat and watching the show in my own little bubble and ignoring the rest of the world around me while immersed in the music & lights”.  I have continued with wearing earplugs to concerts, more recently really enjoying using Flare Audio Isolate Mini earplugs, as the sound isn’t muffled and you end up listening through bone conduction.  The rumbling bass and pounding drumbeats reverberate through me and the lighting is colourful and fun to watch.  Being at the concert itself is a full-body stimming experience, which may be overwhelming for some, but when in the right headspace, I love it.

However, it’s the before and after that almost always ruins the enjoyable experience for me.

I’ll use our most recent experience attending the Flight of the Conchords show in Birmingham a few weeks ago as a prime example of what I struggle with most.

We were in the midst of the seemingly neverending heatwave in the UK… temperatures were between 84-90°F (29-32°C).  Very little breeze.  Not really humid, but quite uncomfortable.  My husband and I arrived at the National Exhibition Centre (NEC) complex in Birmingham, parked the car and walked towards Genting Arena.  It felt like it was taking absolutely ages to get to our destination… the heat certainly wasn’t helping things.  We stopped to get something to eat about 3/4 of the way to the arena itself at The Piazza within the NEC itself.  Even going inside, there was no respite from the heat – no air conditioning, no real air movement at all.  The restaurant we stopped at wasn’t very busy to start, but quite soon loads more people arrived and the quiet table we had to ourselves soon had people sitting at every other table near us, and because they were quite close together, individuals would invariably brush past or bump into me as they were walking to their tables from ordering within the restaurant.  Once or twice, I could forgive, but by the fifth or sixth time, it was getting my hackles up, especially as I was still trying to finish my dinner.  As soon as we were finished, we moved away from the restaurant’s seating area and sat at another small table in the Piazza’s open area, spending a little time catching up on Facebook and the news in general for several minutes before heading to the arena.

The walk to the arena wasn’t too bad, other than having to negotiate walking around pairs and small groups of people, which isn’t easy when you have subtle proprioceptive difficulties and somewhat dyspraxic tendencies that are exacerbated by being fatigued and overheated.

Following the Manchester Arena attack last year, security checks at concert venues have been ramped up, which I’m absolutely fine with; however, I am always very self-conscious when I find myself fumbling with the zippers on my rucksack and there’s a queue of people behind me watching, as well as the security officer waiting for me to get my bag open… this little spike of anxiety makes me less dexterous and fumble more, which I then think makes me look guilty somehow, even though I know I’m not bringing anything dangerous or illegal in with me.

Once beyond security, the overwhelm begins.  The arena’s Forum Live area is “the place to grab some food, meet friends for a drink and listen to some fantastic unsigned acts on the Forum Live stage before the main event”… food stands, alcohol purveyors, merchandise stands, music performers, and even charity collectors from Guide Dogs UK – the poor dogs looked so miserable, it was so loud and hot.  There were people everywhere… it was so noisy, and trying to navigate through the crowd was causing another anxiety spike.  We joined a sort-of organised crowd queue system in front of the merchandise stand, which gave us time to have a look at what was available to buy.  I settled on a set of enamel pins – Bret & Jemaine’s faces and a stylised FOTC logo like the pop art LOVE sculpture.

After getting a pint of cider, we found our seats and settled in for the show.  I finally was able to settle down and feel calm.

Eugene Mirman opened the show and was very funny.  Having seen him in FOTC’s HBO show and being a voice actor for shows like Archer and Bob’s Burgers, it was a bit surreal to see him in person.

The Conchords took the stage to a warm reception from the crowd.  The stage set was very simple – a couple of chairs, microphones and their instruments (including a piano) – and the plain backdrop behind the duo acted as a canvas for a colourful PARcan light show.  The show itself was absolutely brilliant and I thoroughly enjoyed it… some new songs we’d never heard before mixed in with several familiar tunes from the TV show.

Then the show ended and it was time to depart.  The difference between the NEC and the NIA (now Arena Birmingham) is that the NEC, while near the Birmingham International Airport railway station, I don’t think many people travelled by train; due to the show’s scheduled end time, the last train would have already left.  The NIA is within short walking distance to both New Street and Snow Hill stations, and thus people tend to disperse in multiple directions from the NIA, whereas from the NEC, it seemed that the majority of people were heading in the same direction towards the car parks.

Walking out of the arena, I kept my earplugs in and I was so glad I did.  Even through my earplugs, it sounded like a cacophony walking through the Forum Live area towards the arena exits, almost like the roar of the ocean in a storm.  I clung to my husband so we didn’t lose each other in the crowd.  As soon as we got outside, I took myself off the footpath onto the grass to catch my breath.  I had to build myself up for the long walk back to the car.

Along the footpath to the car parks, there were pedestrian tunnels and pinch points along the way, which led to the throng of people to stop outright periodically.  Even though it was getting close to 11pm by this point, it was still quite stiflingly warm and I was exhausted… I just wanted to get back to the car.  I didn’t want to be stuck in amongst the crowd of people, hot and sticky and worn out.

When we finally got back to the car, trying to leave was nigh on impossible.  The cars were queuing, pulling out of their car parking spaces cutting others off rudely, and only inching forwards every few minutes.  We were stationary for nearly 45 minutes before we noticed that a second exit to the car park was opened, and we managed to loop the car around to leave that way.  Due to traffic jams (unclear as to the cause), we ended up taking a little detour to get back on the motorway we needed to head home whilst avoiding the long queues on the roads off the NEC campus.

Granted, this was highly unusual and we’ve never experienced a departure from a gig like this… the last time I was stuck leaving an event was easily back when I was still living in Western New York and was trying to leave a Sabres game from downtown Buffalo.

The sensory overwhelm and stress caused by all of this almost made me completely forget about the enjoyable experience I had at the show itself.

My biggest frustration is that being autistic and having sensory needs is not quite recognised by venues like this, nor even by government support offices (I tried applying for Personal Independence Payments to have evidence of need for access, but was declined because I’m too capable of looking after myself… that will be another blog for another day).  The NEC’s website has a section about accessibility for those with physical needs and disabilities, but no indication of how to support autistic guests.  Having a separate accessible entrance & exit and perhaps a shuttle between the car park & venue would have greatly reduced the stress I experienced.  I suppose it’s about raising these kinds of issues and making these venues aware of how they could support guests with invisible disabilities and conditions… but whether they would be open to accommodating us remains to be seen.

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15 Reasons I love my Asperger’s / #actuallyautistic friends

Yet again, The Silent Wave has written an amazing post that I identify so much with. If you don’t already follow her, best to get that sorted out pronto. 😉🌸

the silent wave

Discovering the truth about my Asperger’s/autistic identity was in itself a complete life game-changer.  The discovery alone was its own gift, a head-nod from the universe or the cosmos or whatever that said, “you’ve worked hard enough; you’ve earned a little nudge, a little loving push, a little…secret decoder key that will suddenly clarify your entire life such that when you turn this key, your entire life will make sense to you.”

OK, cool.  Glad we’ve established that. 🙂

If the discovery was that monumental a gift, just wait–there’s more!  My Asperger’s/autism discovery and resulting identity had a ripple effect, a perpetual gift that just keeps giving and giving…

And that, my pretties, is that when I found my true identity, I also found my true community.  The place–and the people–to which and to whom I finally feel like I belong.

Over the past several months, I’ve been attempting to…

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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 Blog: Aspie 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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‘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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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!

Mulling it over…

I have written a letter which I intend to email to the ASC Diagnostic Team tomorrow for the attention of the Speech & Language Therapist and Clinical Psychologist I saw. The majority of it is below, modified for clarity in the context of this blog:

I feel that perhaps enough wasn’t taken seriously or discussed with me in depth from my written questionnaire; you both said that “the person in the room was different from the person in the questionnaire”. I think this is because I have had to “put this mask on so much that it has become my face” and that my most truthful self is the one written about in my questionnaire; it’s too painful for me to reveal that person in a room with complete strangers, though perhaps it would have been better to do so because of the outcome of the two appointments.

I feel that I was discredited because I’m too sociable. I feel that, despite my indicating early on in the first session that my American-ness may work against me here, this was disregarded. Also, being the firstborn in my family could also be an indicator as to why I am outgoing, but being outgoing is not a contra-indicator of ASC; being outgoing is a big feature of being from America – if we don’t take initiative and present as “confident”, we’re classified as “weird”. In England, one is allowed to be quiet and more reserved. I don’t believe that the reality of how I was taught to be was fully taken into account, and certainly, my more ASC-type traits did not come out in just seven hours of observation.

Watch Jennifer Cook O’Toole on YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/user/AsperkidsVideos) – remind you of anyone? She is a well-known writer with ASC and is very American and outgoing, and probably would have been undiagnosed in the UK.

I have related my experience to a fellow female expat who is a writer and public speaker with ASC (I will refer to her as G); I have been chatting with her periodically online since meeting at the Autism Show in Birmingham last summer. She indicated that I may need a longer than average assessment and this would be in keeping with the Equality Act of 2010, which would argue that reasonable adjustments need to be made so that I am not inadvertently discriminated against because I am from a different culture. She said a longer assessment would be totally reasonable to ask for as 50% of the diagnosis rests on how I interact socially and I’m from another country where social interaction is reinforced differently (remember that I was 23 when I moved to the UK, so beyond my formative years). This is especially true if your service is considering denying the diagnosis based on my social presentation. As you know, women with ASC are good at hiding their traits, and American women will be exceptionally good at hiding them. G’s first diagnostic appointment resulted in her being told that she did not have ASC, but following further appointments for a second opinion, she was eventually diagnosed. I did not think that I would have to go through the same uphill struggle that she has; she is also the one who shared the YouTube link above.

Not much was discussed regarding how I felt about being on the periphery of my social group at school, despite me explaining how traumatic it was finishing high school and just completely obliterating my relationships; that is not typical behaviour, especially since I couldn’t identify a particular incident or altercation which caused it. G also read the extended version of my questionnaire and said the following (this was via email communication):

You mentioned feeling like you were on the periphery of your social group at school.  You mentioned being bullied and taking times away from people.  There was some detail but try to dig out more. It may be hard to do with you not being able to recognise and retell the specifics of what transpired or what went wrong. It’s hard to know at which moment you were “being weird” if you don’t know when you’re “being weird”.

A person on the spectrum would be bad at explaining exactly when they “got it wrong” socially, why they didn’t click with the group as well as others. I imagine this is the most difficult part for you to dissect, but this also is the part that your “outgoing” personality masks the most.  They aren’t seeing the social disconnect in the room, so you need to dissect past social exchanges and explain where it has happened.

It’s hard for me to recall back this far, as the high school fallout occurred 12 years ago and my memory is patchy at best. The only things I seem to recall in clear detail are things that had very strong emotions attached, usually of guilt or shame, which I have worked hard to cast from my mind because they are so debilitating. When I think about finishing high school, I can only remember feeling very anxious, uncertain and out of control. I think I cast away my friendships from the past 4-7 years [middle school into high school] at that point because that gave me some semblance of control, despite it completely isolating me between graduation and starting afresh at university in the dorms. I did very little that summer break because all my friends must have grown weary of trying to engage me and dealing with my flat-out refusal. Like I indicated on my questionnaire, I’ve “virtually reconnected” with most of these friends, but we have not spoken of what occurred at the end of high school, and while they are on my Facebook friends list, we do not talk like friends do. We may exchange birthday greetings, but that’s about it – how much more superficial can this be?? We have reconnected as “someone that I used to know” but that’s about it. Does that help?? Just because I appeared on the surface to get along with them all fine in my early years, doesn’t what happened in adolescence obscure that somewhat?

G also indicated that I wrote a lot about rigidity and a need for sameness and routine in my life in ways that have nothing to do with my sensory issues, and she said, “I don’t know how anyone can dismiss these.”

She indicated certain points from my questionnaire under Current Difficulties which jumped out at her:

  • needing sameness when living with Paul’s mother
  • I hate answering the phone, especially at work
  • I struggle being in overcrowded spaces where personal space can be an issue, especially any store which becomes crowded with shoppers prompts me to leave
  • social blindness when out in public
  • group conversations, especially being interrupted and unable to finish my thought or story – present in childhood and adulthood.
  • I can understand sarcasm, but only when context is given
  • perfectionism, which I had always attributed to being a “typical first born”, which can explain why I am so outgoing
  • as a child, I was very particular about keeping my toys in order and in pristine condition; my dad’s questionnaire probably didn’t say anything about this and he would probably have put it down to having taught me to respect my belongings… it was much more than that.
  • I preferred playing alone a lot of the time and didn’t regularly have friends over; I also did not (and still do not) initiating interactions and prefer someone else taking the lead and joining in when appropriate. I do not feel confident in initiating but will only do so when no one else will because I’m frustrated and want to get on with whatever the task is because I can’t take the awkward silence anymore.
  • you had me talk in detail about the bullying that I endured; I thought surely this would have mattered more strongly – again, just because my dad didn’t pick up on it does not mean it didn’t happen; I was quite private and didn’t tell my parents everything or would just tell them things were fine
  • particular about colour-coding things, especially in a ‘rainbow’ order
  • need for symmetry and matching
  • borderline ritualistic about numbers – I even described how Paul’s and my wedding date was “pleasant” – no one else I know has done that
  • resorting to putting on the same movies or TV series that I’ve seen multiple times to have on in the background – I can’t even begin to guess how many times I’ve watched and re-watched Daria on my Amazon Fire TV box or on my Fire Tablet when getting ready (for work or going out)
  • parking space at work and parking near an edge so I can find my car again
  • gauging the speed of fast-moving objects
  • handwriting and drawing – having an awkward grip and not ever being picked up on for it
  • problems with hormonal birth control – although others might not register this, but she agrees this demonstrates a fragile chemistry and I felt was quite compelling

G also attached some PowerPoint slides called Missed Diagnosis or Misdiagnosis? Girls and Women in the Autism Spectrum from Dr Judith Gould, Director of the NAS Lorna Wing Centre for Autism. I will attach it with this letter but I am going to highlight some of the stronger points here:

  • Historically there has been a strong gender bias of more males than females; as a result, professionals are less likely to diagnose girls/women even when symptoms and behaviours are evident
  • Asperger (1944) suggested autistic traits in females become evident only after puberty
    • My dad moved out of the family home when I was 13 years old and only saw me once every two weeks for several years, so he would not have necessarily noticed these traits and would assume my stroppiness whenever he came to visit was because of being a teenager rather than anything else presenting differently to my peers. I would agree that difficulties became more present after moving up through middle school into high school, culminating in the friendship breakdown at the end of my senior year of high school.
  • There is still a strong gender bias towards diagnosing boys (linked with descriptions in the International Classification Systems)
  • Social Interaction
    • Girls more able to follow social actions by delayed imitation; they observe children and copy them – masks symptoms
    • They are on the periphery of social activities [which I highlighted]
    • Girls more aware and feel a need to interact socially
    • When involved in social play are often led by peers rather than initiating contact [I agree with this – I rarely initiate because I don’t feel confident enough to do so.]
    • Girls more socially immature and passive than typically developing peers
    • In primary school more likely to be ‘mothered’ by other girls but bullied in secondary school [YES to the second part for sure; I can’t remember being ‘mothered’ in elementary school.]
  • Social Communication
    • Little difference in acquiring speech in girls and boys
    • Girls generally have superior linguistic abilities to boys of a similar cognitive level
    • In society, girls are expected to be social in their communication but they do not “do social chit-chat or make meaningless comments to facilitate social communication” [when I do make social chit-chat, it’s to quell the awkward feelings when not much is being said… that’s more unbearable for me than sitting in complete silence when there’s a lull in the conversation.]
  • Social Imagination
    • When involved in solitary doll play, they have a ‘script’ and may reproduce a real event or a scene from a book or film [I vaguely recall playing with my Barbies with an almost soap opera-like script, as when I was at home with my mother, she would regularly watch The Young & The Restless.]
    • There is a lack of reciprocity in their social play and can be controlling or domineering [I would get cross if my little brother wasn’t playing the way I wanted him to, which would lead to him and I bickering and fighting, which was probably minimised to sibling interaction.]
  • Special Interests and Routines
    • The male stereotype of autism has clouded the issue of diagnosis
    • Girls are more passive and collect information on people rather than things
    • The interests of girls in the spectrum are similar to those of other girls
    • Perfectionism is frequently seen in girls [Ding! Ding! Ding!]
    • It is not the special interests that differentiate them from their peers but it is the quality and intensity of these interests [I minimised the intensity of my areas of interests in the appointments because I have enough social wherewithal to know when it is and is not appropriate to talk about them in great detail, but that doesn’t mean that they are not there. Again, something not touched on much in my two appointments.]
  • The Diagnostic Criteria
    • The current systems do not give examples of types of difficulties shown in girls
    • There is a need for a wider perspective regarding social, communication and imaginative dimensions in addition to special interests and rigidity of behaviour
    • There is a need to ask the right questions and make appropriate observations
    • Over- and under-reaction to sensory input is an important feature for all on the autism spectrum and is common in females
  • The Importance of Diagnosis
    • A diagnosis is the starting point in providing appropriate support
    • A timely diagnosis can avoid the difficulties women experience throughout their lives
    • Diagnosis can lead to assessment of needs in employment (amongst other areas)
  • Dale Yaull-Smith, NAS Communication, 2008 – “The fact that girls with undiagnosed autism are painstakingly copying some behaviour is not being picked up on and therefore any social and communication problems they may be having are also overlooked. This effort of mimicking and repressing their autistic behaviour is exhausting, perhaps resulting in the high statistics of women with mental health problems.”

I don’t dispute that there may be an element of Sensory Processing Disorder on my part and look forward to meeting with the Occupational Therapist to discuss this further. I have also purchased Too Loud, Too Bright, Too Fast, Too Tight to investigate things further (like I have done with Aspergirls and the other ASC books I have read) in the meantime whilst I’m awaiting the appointment to be made. However, I still feel that my diagnostic process was too short and inconclusive. I’ve been doing my best to keep myself back from the edge of completely shutting down and being signed off work until this is resolved, mostly because I cannot afford to be off work long-term and I know myself enough that if I were to cave in and stay at home in bed, it will be infinitely harder to pull myself out of that funk and get back into work than just persevering with it, no matter how much it emotionally drains me.

You want to see the real me? Please read between the lines of my questionnaire again. Read between the lines of this letter. Yet again in my life, I feel like I’ve been misunderstood and it hurts me to my core that I have to practically beg for this to be understood. The thought of going into work today and facing people was too much to bear, so I’m working from home. I feel like raw nerve endings – on edge, anxious, unsettled, unsoothed – even a nice shower didn’t alleviate my anxiety this morning. Is this what you needed to see? This is the person that is in the questionnaire; I’m sorry you didn’t get to see her in those two short appointments, but considering that I’ve had 31 years of adapting my behaviour to appear “normal”, I think it takes a bit more than six hours to get to see her, especially since she knows how to behave in a clinical setting.