I overheard these words on the street yesterday. Some American tourists I think, a group of young women visiting Copenhagen, complete with city maps and cameras.
One of the women was walking a few meters away from the others, and she did indeed look a bit sullen. The others ( three or four) walked close together and it was from that group I heard those words being shouted at the sullen one.
Of course I resisted my urge to ask the shouting person: If she knew how to do that, she probably would've done it long ago, don't you think?
In fact that was the reply I should have given when people told me the exact same thing. You can't ask people to stop 'being' what they are. I can't ask my son to be less odd. I can't ask myself to be more relaxed, less sensitive. It is like asking people to take off their hat, only that it isn't. We can wear traits as a hat, if we choose to. And take it off as well. If I am afraid somebody would trespass my boundaries, I'd put on aloofness as a hat. But the aloofness that is inside me is there always, and that I can't take off.
Instead of telling other people that they should stop being what they are, perhaps we should stop judging them by our own standards and instead try and embrace the heterogeneity of people and their personalities.
Showing posts with label self-definition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self-definition. Show all posts
Thursday, 9 May 2013
Sunday, 14 April 2013
Theory of Mind
I just googled 'theory of mind'. It appears that autistic people don't develop this or develop it insufficiently. I have no intentions to generalise, but I know what it's like for me.
I used to think - as a kid - that everybody else functioned like myself. I felt deceived if people disagreed with me, and I couldn't understand that their reaction was different from mine.
When I grew older, I realised that everybody else were perfect. I was the only imperfect one. They always knew what to say and what to do, and I didn't. If colleague A says: I am scared of being fired, it is not a sign of weakness, rather it is because exposing weakness is the right thing to do. If family member B talks about a newly deceased and says 'I don't know what to say to the relatives' - then that is the way to react, and the correct amount of sharing. When female friend C complains about her husband, she does so in the right setting and the right amount. Somehow the correct way of sharing/exposing weakness/revealing private information has been implanted in their brains, and they just DO the right thing, without endless considerations of what the right thing is. Those considerations are mine. I am (still) the only imperfect one. But recently I have suggested to myself that others may be as imperfect.
This discovery (too big a word there, 'suggestion' is better) is very difficult to get my head around. When I am in a social situation I still (firmly) believe that all others are perfect. But on my way home on my bicycle, while debriefing myself from the social interactions of the day, it sometimes occur to me that A, B and C perhaps were as insecure - or almost as insecure - of what they should say or do in the social situation as I was.
I appear to have considered other people as some kind of astronomical objects, sticking firmly to their path, which they can see clearly. While I haven't had a path of my own, and I also haven't been able to see theirs. I am the blind spaceship, floating about, sometimes colliding with the stoic planets or crossing their path in an inconvenient way. But most of the time I have been able to fly more or less on someone else's path, safe until I accidentally left it.
Until now I haven't really been interested in what happened inside other people's heads.
The reason for this is:
I used to think - as a kid - that everybody else functioned like myself. I felt deceived if people disagreed with me, and I couldn't understand that their reaction was different from mine.
When I grew older, I realised that everybody else were perfect. I was the only imperfect one. They always knew what to say and what to do, and I didn't. If colleague A says: I am scared of being fired, it is not a sign of weakness, rather it is because exposing weakness is the right thing to do. If family member B talks about a newly deceased and says 'I don't know what to say to the relatives' - then that is the way to react, and the correct amount of sharing. When female friend C complains about her husband, she does so in the right setting and the right amount. Somehow the correct way of sharing/exposing weakness/revealing private information has been implanted in their brains, and they just DO the right thing, without endless considerations of what the right thing is. Those considerations are mine. I am (still) the only imperfect one. But recently I have suggested to myself that others may be as imperfect.
This discovery (too big a word there, 'suggestion' is better) is very difficult to get my head around. When I am in a social situation I still (firmly) believe that all others are perfect. But on my way home on my bicycle, while debriefing myself from the social interactions of the day, it sometimes occur to me that A, B and C perhaps were as insecure - or almost as insecure - of what they should say or do in the social situation as I was.
I appear to have considered other people as some kind of astronomical objects, sticking firmly to their path, which they can see clearly. While I haven't had a path of my own, and I also haven't been able to see theirs. I am the blind spaceship, floating about, sometimes colliding with the stoic planets or crossing their path in an inconvenient way. But most of the time I have been able to fly more or less on someone else's path, safe until I accidentally left it.
Until now I haven't really been interested in what happened inside other people's heads.
The reason for this is:
- Either that I've been too busy always trying to fit in and haven't had the resources to figure out what was going on in everybody elses heads
- Or that I am basically too self-absorbed to be interested in what happens inside other people's heads. I am not narcissistic because I clearly see my own flaws, but I find those flaws much more interesting than trying to comprehend the almost incomprehensible.
My discovery - that they may not be so perfect after all - still doesn't give me a clue as to what actually does happen inside their heads. So I am not really closer to that theory of mind...
Sunday, 3 March 2013
Being oblong
My ex-husband used to say to me: You've got oblong feet. Oblong meaning that they had a weird shape such that they didn't fit into normal shoes my size. I've discovered that this feature does not only apply to my feet, but to my everything.
About once a week or so, usually during a meal in my family, I feel oblong. I say something which may not be disastrous by any means, but it just doesn't fit nicely into the conversation. It happens at work quite often, that I say or do something that is just a little off the point. And I realise, sometimes immediately after, sometimes up to several years after the incident.
Sometimes my being oblong is so embarrasing (seen in retrospect), that I feel permanently awkward when thinking about it. I see it as a defeat, and I never forget my defeats.
Sometimes my husband says: What do you want to do? And quite often I reply: I don't know. Being around other people is part of life. But I only feel not-oblong when I am alone. I like being around other people (some other people at least - and in small doses), but it is demanding because I am oblong.
About once a week or so, usually during a meal in my family, I feel oblong. I say something which may not be disastrous by any means, but it just doesn't fit nicely into the conversation. It happens at work quite often, that I say or do something that is just a little off the point. And I realise, sometimes immediately after, sometimes up to several years after the incident.
Sometimes my being oblong is so embarrasing (seen in retrospect), that I feel permanently awkward when thinking about it. I see it as a defeat, and I never forget my defeats.
Sometimes my husband says: What do you want to do? And quite often I reply: I don't know. Being around other people is part of life. But I only feel not-oblong when I am alone. I like being around other people (some other people at least - and in small doses), but it is demanding because I am oblong.
Sunday, 3 February 2013
Un-opinionated
I have strong analytical skills and weak opinions. I only realised that about myself yesterday.
There is a lot of changes taking place at work these days. I don't like that and I am eagerly waiting for it to pass. Some of the changes are good, others (such as people being laid off) are sad or worrying. I try to maintain a constructive attitude. But it is very difficult. Some of my colleagues are very negative, and they tend to see the worst, maybe even a conspiracy, in the whole thing. And when I talk to these people, I adopt their views. I become negative myself. It is as if they trigger something, a process that I can't stop. Ten minutes of negative talk and then I loop. I get stressed and depressed and I can't sleep.
I realised that my subconcious appears to have invented its own coping strategy. To put things in perspective, I seek the company of people with more positive views. I try and balance things in my head.
It is as if there is an analysis machine inside my head. If it is fed with conspiracy and negativity, it produces a negative analysis bordering on a full conspiracy theory. On the other hand, if it is fed with more constructive thoughts, the resulting analysis is likewise constructive and balanced.
Politically, I have some strong views on equal rights. I don't doubt for a second, that people's own choices should be respected as long as they don't impact negatively on others freedom. In other words, people can have whatever religion, living arrangements, sexual preferences etc. they wish and I strongly believe that society should accommodate this. That was basically the end of my strong views.
For everything else, I am - regrettably - a windbag. If I can see the reason of peoples argument, I more or less adopt it. And very often I can see the reason. I long ago decided on my favourite political party, which makes things easy, because I just have to adopt their views.
Damn. I wish I had stronger views - on a greater variety of things. Maybe this has to do with being a copycat?
There is a lot of changes taking place at work these days. I don't like that and I am eagerly waiting for it to pass. Some of the changes are good, others (such as people being laid off) are sad or worrying. I try to maintain a constructive attitude. But it is very difficult. Some of my colleagues are very negative, and they tend to see the worst, maybe even a conspiracy, in the whole thing. And when I talk to these people, I adopt their views. I become negative myself. It is as if they trigger something, a process that I can't stop. Ten minutes of negative talk and then I loop. I get stressed and depressed and I can't sleep.
I realised that my subconcious appears to have invented its own coping strategy. To put things in perspective, I seek the company of people with more positive views. I try and balance things in my head.
It is as if there is an analysis machine inside my head. If it is fed with conspiracy and negativity, it produces a negative analysis bordering on a full conspiracy theory. On the other hand, if it is fed with more constructive thoughts, the resulting analysis is likewise constructive and balanced.
Politically, I have some strong views on equal rights. I don't doubt for a second, that people's own choices should be respected as long as they don't impact negatively on others freedom. In other words, people can have whatever religion, living arrangements, sexual preferences etc. they wish and I strongly believe that society should accommodate this. That was basically the end of my strong views.
For everything else, I am - regrettably - a windbag. If I can see the reason of peoples argument, I more or less adopt it. And very often I can see the reason. I long ago decided on my favourite political party, which makes things easy, because I just have to adopt their views.
Damn. I wish I had stronger views - on a greater variety of things. Maybe this has to do with being a copycat?
Saturday, 3 November 2012
This is what it's like
It is like singing in a choir, and constantly being out of tune. Sometimes to the point of singing a different song. Other times almost carrying the tune. And not knowing which is which. Either I have to be very proud of my out of tune singing, or I just shut up, pretend I am singing and knowing that I will never ever learn.
It is like being Goldielock, but never finding the right chair. There's always something wrong. Too cold, too noisy, too many people...
It is like being a sprinter in a marathon. You can impress at first, but sooner or later they'll find out that you can't run the whole distance.
---
This is what it's like for me:
Good stuff:
I am honest. I will not cheat you, and I will do my best to help you and to make you feel comfortable.
I have a very good memory. I remember birthdays, telephone numbers, past events, how you take your coffee, and almost everything you told me (though I forget what I have told you).
I am good at concentrating. I dig into a subject until I have the information I need.
I am loyal and I don't escape, not physically and not into substances.
Not-quite-so-good stuff:
I am always cold. And when I wear woolen clothes and turn up the heater, I am fine temperaturewise but my eyes get dry and sore.
I need complete darkness before I can sleep. I wear 'night goggles' even when it is dark in the bedroom. I can't sleep - even with the goggles - if the light is on in the room.
There's a track in my mind that is always busy. I can't stop thinking, and I can't control the thoughts. That is also why I can't sleep. It is also the reason of many conflicts, because it is not nice, calm and harmonious thoughts. The track is like a railway track next to the real railway track. When the train manages to switch tracks (I don't know how), it runs on the 'thought-track' and it can't get back to the real railway track. The thought-track often leads to aggression, temper tantrums, and regular meltdowns. I wish it was not like that. I wish I knew how to control the train.
I am gullible and I am extremely bad at lying. Very often I don't catch jokes or I catch them too late.
Crowds exhaust me. Sometimes I get social anxiety but most often I am just very self-conscious. I don't mind crowds of strangers though. They don't expect anything from me.
I lose things out of my hands. When that happens, I cry and scold myself.
I don't know what to do with other people's feelings. I have empathy but I don't know how to show it.
----
This is what I do to make me feel better:
Being at home.
Structuring and planning (calendar, to-do lists).
Knowing what is going to happen.
Baking.
Cooking.
Running.
Sleeping on my stomach.
----
This is what others can do to make me feel better:
Don't surprise me.
Inform me, structure things, be predictable
Don't write between the lines (I might read it but you never know)
Be honest.
If you want me to do something (or don't something), please tell me.
Talking about feelings and other sensitive issues is probably not such a good idea. I am much better in writing. Writing also prevent most tantrums. So if there's something sensitive you want to tell me, it's fine by me to e-mail or facebook-chat about it.
If you think that I go too much on and on about nutrition or a smartphone app, just ask me to stop :)
It is like being Goldielock, but never finding the right chair. There's always something wrong. Too cold, too noisy, too many people...
It is like being a sprinter in a marathon. You can impress at first, but sooner or later they'll find out that you can't run the whole distance.
---
This is what it's like for me:
Good stuff:
I am honest. I will not cheat you, and I will do my best to help you and to make you feel comfortable.
I have a very good memory. I remember birthdays, telephone numbers, past events, how you take your coffee, and almost everything you told me (though I forget what I have told you).
I am good at concentrating. I dig into a subject until I have the information I need.
I am loyal and I don't escape, not physically and not into substances.
Not-quite-so-good stuff:
I am always cold. And when I wear woolen clothes and turn up the heater, I am fine temperaturewise but my eyes get dry and sore.
I need complete darkness before I can sleep. I wear 'night goggles' even when it is dark in the bedroom. I can't sleep - even with the goggles - if the light is on in the room.
There's a track in my mind that is always busy. I can't stop thinking, and I can't control the thoughts. That is also why I can't sleep. It is also the reason of many conflicts, because it is not nice, calm and harmonious thoughts. The track is like a railway track next to the real railway track. When the train manages to switch tracks (I don't know how), it runs on the 'thought-track' and it can't get back to the real railway track. The thought-track often leads to aggression, temper tantrums, and regular meltdowns. I wish it was not like that. I wish I knew how to control the train.
I am gullible and I am extremely bad at lying. Very often I don't catch jokes or I catch them too late.
Crowds exhaust me. Sometimes I get social anxiety but most often I am just very self-conscious. I don't mind crowds of strangers though. They don't expect anything from me.
I lose things out of my hands. When that happens, I cry and scold myself.
I don't know what to do with other people's feelings. I have empathy but I don't know how to show it.
----
This is what I do to make me feel better:
Being at home.
Structuring and planning (calendar, to-do lists).
Knowing what is going to happen.
Baking.
Cooking.
Running.
Sleeping on my stomach.
----
This is what others can do to make me feel better:
Don't surprise me.
Inform me, structure things, be predictable
Don't write between the lines (I might read it but you never know)
Be honest.
If you want me to do something (or don't something), please tell me.
Talking about feelings and other sensitive issues is probably not such a good idea. I am much better in writing. Writing also prevent most tantrums. So if there's something sensitive you want to tell me, it's fine by me to e-mail or facebook-chat about it.
If you think that I go too much on and on about nutrition or a smartphone app, just ask me to stop :)
Sunday, 14 October 2012
The social coach
In 2002 I was divorced. Two years later I met another man, known by my friends and my Danish blog as W. He was 44 when I met him, so calling him a 'boyfriend' somehow doesn't seem right. We went out for four years and a bit, and it was not a happy relationship. At least I wasn't happy. It was while I was seeing W, that child care professionals started talking about Asperger's in relation to my youngest son. I was rejecting them completely but W thought I should hear them out. He was a child professional himself and I suspect he talked on behalf of his profession. He also had a son (he still has I guess). His son went for regular tests, he has epilepsy, ADHD and maybe something else as well. The boy went to specialised daycare and education. Somebody also talked about Aspergers in relation to W's son.
W never managed to 'see himself from the outside', but his daughter and some of my friends suspected that he had Aspergers. Now I am certain that he does. Compared to him, I was more outgoing and socially ept. My own challenges were minor compared to his. Also, this was before my long period of self-development, where the Aspie-recognition is only the last step. And I have several years of practice in the fine art of almost fitting in. When I compare myself to W and to my mother, I see at least one major advantage of my own personality: I am friendly and tolerant and I have a positive way of thinking. My mother doesn't, and W didn't. Therefore people like me, and my probability of being accepted is much higher than theirs.
W used me as a social coach. His job as a teacher provided daily challenges, with peers not with the children, in the form of small-talk, smiling at people, making friends with people. And he changed his workplace rather often. Everywhere he ran into problems. And he told me about it and I tried to tell him what to do. I think it was his Aspergers combined with the personality: People saw him as rejecting and cross, and nobody wants to get to know a person like that. During the course of our relationship, the coaching part of our conversations grew in size and eventually there was no time for me to tell about my day or whatever I needed to talk about. Not that I really needed HIS advise on anything, his advise was very lousy. I was a bit annoyed with this development but I also enjoyed being of use.
I broke up with W, embarked on a development process, during which I discovered my own Aspie traits (as described), met my husband, and now I am here. My husband knows a lot of Aspies and he works with engineers, but he is not Asperger himself and definitely more socially ept than I am. I often want to ask him for advise in social situations but do not want our relationship to develop the way W's and mine did. I don't want to be W! Sometimes I can hear W's sentences in my head, and if I don't stop myself I'll talk like him. My husband never met W, so he wouldn't know, but I know...
W never managed to 'see himself from the outside', but his daughter and some of my friends suspected that he had Aspergers. Now I am certain that he does. Compared to him, I was more outgoing and socially ept. My own challenges were minor compared to his. Also, this was before my long period of self-development, where the Aspie-recognition is only the last step. And I have several years of practice in the fine art of almost fitting in. When I compare myself to W and to my mother, I see at least one major advantage of my own personality: I am friendly and tolerant and I have a positive way of thinking. My mother doesn't, and W didn't. Therefore people like me, and my probability of being accepted is much higher than theirs.
W used me as a social coach. His job as a teacher provided daily challenges, with peers not with the children, in the form of small-talk, smiling at people, making friends with people. And he changed his workplace rather often. Everywhere he ran into problems. And he told me about it and I tried to tell him what to do. I think it was his Aspergers combined with the personality: People saw him as rejecting and cross, and nobody wants to get to know a person like that. During the course of our relationship, the coaching part of our conversations grew in size and eventually there was no time for me to tell about my day or whatever I needed to talk about. Not that I really needed HIS advise on anything, his advise was very lousy. I was a bit annoyed with this development but I also enjoyed being of use.
I broke up with W, embarked on a development process, during which I discovered my own Aspie traits (as described), met my husband, and now I am here. My husband knows a lot of Aspies and he works with engineers, but he is not Asperger himself and definitely more socially ept than I am. I often want to ask him for advise in social situations but do not want our relationship to develop the way W's and mine did. I don't want to be W! Sometimes I can hear W's sentences in my head, and if I don't stop myself I'll talk like him. My husband never met W, so he wouldn't know, but I know...
Saturday, 6 October 2012
Defining me
On my other, Danish-language, blog I have TWO pages describing who I am. One is a short description of my family mostly, the other contains not less than 100 facts about me.
Writing them was a true challenge, because I always had extreme difficulties seeing myself from outside. When people told me how they percieved me, I was always very surprised. I couldn't define me.
Many years ago I befriended a South African woman whose native language wasn't English either. She spent a lot of time in conversations defining herself. I think what she said was not entirely correct linguistically but I prefer her phrase: 'I am a person, that is stubborn', 'I am a person that doesn't like sugar in my tea', 'I am a person...'. And for years I did the same (inside my head or when talking to myself): 'I am a person...', giving myself an identity through my taste or preferences.
But a lot of it was something I made up. I still couldn't define myself. When I did the 100 facts thing, I focused mostly on preferences: Food, clothing, culture. And I made one entry one day, and described the opposite preference the next. I couldn't even define myself through my favourite candy, my style in clothing, my taste in movies.
Now, when I read blog entries from others describing the Asperger traits, e.g. this one, I feel recognised and understood. I am like that - or like most of that. An example: I try and avoid conflict, I get nervous and want to escape when someone is criticising me. I duck when others are angry. But at other times I am the one that is angry, and others are scared of me.
When I was about to finish high school, our class should agree on a performance at some matriculation function. Nobody had the time to write the song, and eventually my friend and I volunteered. We weren't very good at it and it took forever, but we did write a song. When we presented it in class, one boy said: That song can't be sung! And he made a whole scene about it. Or maybe I made the scene. At least thats how people remember me: I was nice but I could really be mad at times. In retrospect I think I had a temper tantrum, someting that happens once in a while. And other people get scared. At other times I was the one being scared about much lesser things. I wish I could just be a little bit more on the middle of the road. I wish I could assert myself without scaring others.
Writing them was a true challenge, because I always had extreme difficulties seeing myself from outside. When people told me how they percieved me, I was always very surprised. I couldn't define me.
Many years ago I befriended a South African woman whose native language wasn't English either. She spent a lot of time in conversations defining herself. I think what she said was not entirely correct linguistically but I prefer her phrase: 'I am a person, that is stubborn', 'I am a person that doesn't like sugar in my tea', 'I am a person...'. And for years I did the same (inside my head or when talking to myself): 'I am a person...', giving myself an identity through my taste or preferences.
But a lot of it was something I made up. I still couldn't define myself. When I did the 100 facts thing, I focused mostly on preferences: Food, clothing, culture. And I made one entry one day, and described the opposite preference the next. I couldn't even define myself through my favourite candy, my style in clothing, my taste in movies.
Now, when I read blog entries from others describing the Asperger traits, e.g. this one, I feel recognised and understood. I am like that - or like most of that. An example: I try and avoid conflict, I get nervous and want to escape when someone is criticising me. I duck when others are angry. But at other times I am the one that is angry, and others are scared of me.
When I was about to finish high school, our class should agree on a performance at some matriculation function. Nobody had the time to write the song, and eventually my friend and I volunteered. We weren't very good at it and it took forever, but we did write a song. When we presented it in class, one boy said: That song can't be sung! And he made a whole scene about it. Or maybe I made the scene. At least thats how people remember me: I was nice but I could really be mad at times. In retrospect I think I had a temper tantrum, someting that happens once in a while. And other people get scared. At other times I was the one being scared about much lesser things. I wish I could just be a little bit more on the middle of the road. I wish I could assert myself without scaring others.
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