Day: August 28, 2014

513: Aspergers: Things That Sometimes Might Work, Maybe

| Aspergers Girls

Let’s face it. It’s pretty much hit or miss with us Aspies. We have to be in an in between state in the first place to be able to utilize any tools for psychological and emotional relief. We absolutely cannot be at one extreme or the other, in mindset or mood, when we set out to help ourselves. I mean the last, very last thing I need, when I feel like crap, is some perky fellow Aspie alien telling me that ‘everything will be okay.’ Or some other well-meaning bystander reading off an invisible list she has collected in her brain about things that work for her.

When I am done, I am done. And there’s just no retrieving me until the crash is over. And if I am super happy, the other side of the Aspie pendulum—that elation we reach when we think to ourselves, ‘Hey, I feel kind of normal in my head. Hooray. Let’s party’—then I don’t want a stupid list. I just want to be happy.

In the perfect world I could pull out a list and assist myself at any point in time. But this is not the perfect world. Still, it’s nice to have a go-to place that might help me some of the time; typically during that “I’ve-almost-lost-it-but-not-yet” teetering psychological/emotional point.

With that said, I dare not review this list (and you dare not) at my lowest point, because it only serves to make me feel entirely useless and hopeless, like I can’t even follow a list of suggestions.

So there’s that.

Just mentioning this incase you happen to be an Aspie, and happen to know what I mean. Kind of like my friendly (but not too friendly) warning label: Attention Aspie brains, proceed with caution. Only refer to this list if, and only if, you like yourself a little still, and aren’t entirely bombarded with thoughts and hating the world. If you happen to be beyond the tipping point proceed with caution and ignore, ignore, ignore.

Okay, that about does it for my lengthy introduction to a list of things that sometimes, might work, maybe for the Aspie when trying to avoid meltdown, confusion, or oblivion in the form of plummeting, free-falling thoughts.

I want to swear right now.

Not sure why.

The List:

1. Change the diet! That’s right, drop something that you already know, from your extensive readings and research, that isn’t good for you. For me it’s the bloating brain caused by gluten-overload, or too much sugar, or not enough of some supplement, mineral or another. This is usually my last resort. I know, I know, this ‘should’ (nasty uninvited ‘sh’ word) be my first approach to remedy. However, let’s be honest, being an Aspie has few advantages some days. And sometimes the only thing getting me through is Ben and Jerry’s Chunky something or another. Still, when I start to literally lose it in nonstop thoughts, my saving grace is to CHANGE something about my eating habits.

2. When I am about to lose it, I sometimes, if I am lucky, will ask myself what is way out of proportion in my life. Whether the answer be over-planning, over-thinking, over-doing, or clinging to one person or project, I will then try to look the situation over and bring some balance. Maybe the entire house doesn’t need to be cleaned in the time it takes the sun to reach the back of the house to the side of the house. And maybe I haven’t been resting, refueling, or letting go. Maybe it’s the opposite. Perhaps I have too much time on my hands and would do myself good to make some plans and get out of my house (and my head.)

3. Another effective question is: What self-inflicted rules have I established and rigidly enforced that are causing me undo stress and pressure? Ah-ha! This is a biggy. I do this all the time. I can’t stop it. I make strict rules for myself about eating or finances (or just about anything, e.g., chores, cooking, shopping) or about how I will respond to a person or situation; and then I follow them with loyal obedience, like I am a slave to my own inventions. I have done this forever and a day, part of my Aspie brainpower, I suppose. The downfall is I get trapped in this rigidness for days, sometimes weeks, until I realize I am the ONLY one who decided to do this, bought into doing this, and gosh darn it believes I have to do this! It’s okay to eat a piece of chocolate. Really, no one will hit your knuckles with a ruler. There is no overseer, beyond me!

4. Rethink it without rethinking it. This is a tough one. You see a tiny touch of cognitive reasoning works, but only a touch. This is vital to keep in mind. Just a tiny, tiny, tiny bit. Like adding salt to cookies. Just a pinch. Otherwise the whole batch of the mind is entirely spoiled. It’s beneficial, at times, for me to allow myself to remind myself that my thinking is out of control, and that I am being a bit irrational and catastrophizing, and that my thoughts might feasibly lead towards self-abuse. And then to maybe spend a minute, or one or two sentences, explaining why my thoughts are damaging to me. In example: ‘You know just because she isn’t available does NOT mean your friendship is over, and doesn’t negate the entire last year of companionship. And, she does care about you, and you have plenty of proof of that. So let’s let it go. Okay?’—but then I need to stop there. Otherwise the actual self-talk is a trigger for over thinking and a free-for-all for my brain. ‘Oh, Look! A possible challenge or problem. Let’s dissect it until it’s solved.’ That’s when I need to come in with a giant halt of the hand and scream: ‘NO, we are NOT going there!” You see it’s good for me to give myself a short little pep talk. However, it’s super bad for me to allow a short little pep talk to be the opened door that leads to obsessive, spinning out of control no-end and no-point solution hounding. (See previous post: The Whipping Girl).

5. Remove the trigger. A trigger can be anything, really. You name it and my mind can turn it into a trigger, if it’s not already a pre-established trigger to begin with. And by trigger, I mean anything that potentially sends me plummeting into a loop of endless thoughts or emotions which I cannot control (even with all my might, and incredible genius ability.) What I do in regards to managing triggers is to prepare and slightly analyze the triggers. I think (not too much) about what is triggering me and how I can avoid or remove that trigger. For me, a trigger could be, and has been, notifications (or lack of notifications) on my phone or computer, the actual bell sound or whatever sound, for notification triggers me. Yes, I am like that salivating dog! Gosh darn it. What I have learned to do to help myself is to remove the trigger, in this case my phone or computer, from the room. I simply (with sometimes agonizing resistance, which is eventually overruled by extreme will power) will have to shut down my electronics to help my sanity. My solution might only last thirty minutes or a few seconds, but in those moments I know I am protecting myself, and that alone makes me feel empowered and good. If the trigger is a person, I give myself permission to not talk to them, if I can, or to wait until I am feeling in a strong state of mind. And if a trigger is unavoidable, whether a situation, event, or person, then I accept the likely trigger-hood of the matter and prepare myself like I would for any catastrophe. I ask myself: What is likely to happen? How will I respond? How can I take care of myself? What has worked in the past? And, this is vital: It’s okay if I go into shutdown. It’s okay.

6. Something else to keep in mind: “Oh, Yeah! I have Aspergers.” This is a tough one. I often forget to give myself a break. I forget that my mind sometimes, (well kind of a lot of the time), doesn’t work like my fellow neighbors. I forget I might scream at noise because it feels like stinging nettle in my brain. I forget that I might not be able to let go of something because my mind is Velcro, basically. And I forget that I will have mood swings prompted by things that seem out of my control and are likely unpredictable and unexpected. I forget the world scares the hell out of me, and that just the action and effort of getting out of bed and showering is a triumph in itself. I forget I can only hold it together for so long, and then I need a huge break, and time to refuel.

7. Enjoy the little moments. I am learning to ignore and not feed the voice in my head that says: ‘Yes, you are happy, but it won’t last.’ I am realizing happiness doesn’t last for any human on earth. Everyone has good moments and bad moments. I just happen to be Aspie and feel the world at an extreme intensity. So while it is a true fact that my happiness and relief of anxiety for the moment, though wonderful, will not last, this truth is okay. I have to wrap myself around that fact like a brand name saran wrap (the generics generally don’t work). It’s OKAY. I have to just allow the happiness to exist, without over-analyzing the peace of mind, and without buying into the fear-based thoughts. Sometimes, many moments indeed, I must allow the party of dismal pessimistic thoughts that dingle-berry in the background (giggling) to completely live. Because, as soon as I fight them off, I am disengaging from my own happiness. So, like in the movie ‘A Beautiful Mind,’ when Nash allows his fellow self-manifested friends to carry on but choses not to interact with them, I allow my negating doomsday thoughts to be there, while I choose not to engage them further. They are like trappings you know—gooey sap dressed up as enticing honey. It’s best not to wade there, if given choice.

512: The Whipping Girl

| Aspergers Girls

I am guilty of gluttony, and I don’t mean that double-scoop mint ice cream on a sugar cone, followed by cheesecake and chocolate bits.

Gluttony has changed meanings from its original origins. At its roots, gluttony was referred to as self-punishing, self-pity, and self-affliction associated with the act of harming oneself in hopes of making amends to a higher power, most prominently represented as the remorseful priest whipping his back in a brutal attempt to make amends to God. It was viewed as a sin because even as the action is perceived as a sacrifice and admission of wrongs to God, it is in actuality the highest from of ego-based self-focus. It sets one’s agony above everything else, and the person becomes the focus not God.

As an Aspie, I am gluttonous as I whip myself mentally, damaging my self-esteem whilst under the guise of ‘wanting to be better.’

I think many Aspies are glutton for punishment, not because we desire to be but because our brains are instinctually wired to over-analyze, pick apart, and find inherent flaws. Typically, and ideally, we would be suited best for work as engineers or solvers of planetary problems; yet, most of us don’t have something to occupy our minds continually that is directly related to problem solving for a company or the whole of the world. In actuality, most of us experience several hours of the day, if not more, in isolation, trapped in our thoughts revolving around problem solving that doesn’t do anyone any good.

My thinking is: when we don’t have a BIGGER solution to solve, we set about to solve ourselves or someone else.

My trouble starts when I focus on someone else and what he has said or done or when I focus on myself and what I have said or done, or a combination of the aforementioned (aka Double-Whammy).

Because my mind is a vast endless landscape—think bland canvas upon blank canvas in repetitive mirrors beckoning to be painted—I can create havoc if I focus on an individual, especially if that someone is out of sight. In my case, out of sight does not mean out of mind. In my case, out of sight means trapped inside the hamster wheel of my mind: looping.

My gluttony, (self-affliction/whipping the mind), happens when I set about to focus on someone else but I can’t find answers about someone else, I can’t find a solution, and/or I can’t reach an endpoint. Given the obvious fact that people are not stagnant beings, and are creatures constantly changing in emotions, outlook, opinions, and behaviors, (not to mention biologically, aka cells shedding, blood pumping, microorganisms, etc.), the quest to reach an end conclusion with any particular person is a ridiculous rendering to begin with. Even if an accurate, or semi-close-to-accurate conclusion about someone or self is reached by said Aspie, the answer will not stick. It’s an impossibility to know an outcome of anyone because we change. Unless the person happens to drop dead right at the moment of discovery and all conclusions are said and done. Morbid, but true, and the only likely scenario in which my over-thinking and resulting theorizing might feasibly match a singular moment in someone’s life. People aren’t objects. They aren’t things. They aren’t puzzles to be solved, but somehow my brain thinks they are.

I feel like a tracking device set down on earth that narrows in on some subject and then dissects and gathers information, and then takes the data and internalizes it and digests it and then attempts to reach conclusions, without noting that the subject at hand is both impossible to understand in completion and that I am not a robot or machine. I forget that. I truly forget that I can’t reach a conclusion with people which will lead to a predictable outcome. I mean, like rolling dice, there is always that chance that my choice will match what’s in front of me; but even then, eventually the dice will be rolled again. I can’t seem to get this fact to compute though: that no amount of thinking, and re-thinking, and re-working will relieve my crushing anxiety and solve the problem.

And that’s at the core of it all: Anxiety.

And I don’t know what comes first—the anxiety (generalized anxiety disorder) or the perceived problem. I know that my body is predisposition to respond to stress in a fight or flight manner (as a result of Post Traumatic Stress, and as a result of the way I am genetically structured with a joint mobility syndrome that affects my autonomic functioning). So at times it is the anxiety that comes first, like trigger-chemicals that put my body on high-alert, and then from there I search for the actual problem. I get scared first, and then I try to figure out why. It’s a fact-seeking mission. Danger! Danger! Will Robinson. I am the robot on high alert; I am Will; and I am Danger. That’s the way it goes.

From there, whether it is an actual trigger that comes first—aka something someone said or did, a thought, a symbol, image, etc.—or my body’s biochemical makeup (fight or flight), I dive bomb into an oblivious state of confusion. I become a master puzzle solver, a master puppeteer of self, too, as I set about to dig myself out of where I have been buried. On alert, I feel walloped, cornered, and frightened, and I set out to search for answers, with my little stick with the bundle at the end, a hobo with her knapsack thinking the travel will bring me to some destination that spells RELIEF. But the truth is, I ought not set out. I shouldn’t. I should just set up camp and stay where I am. I shouldn’t just tramp or jump train. But I do. I do. I do.

I become lost then, on an endless destination, wanting to forge through the muck of data—some thick ivy-laden forest—to reach the other side in order to feel relief. I want nothing else but to end the anxiety. And my mind thinks if I think enough I will end the anxiety. It thinks: I got this. It says: Let me take over. It shouts: Just rethink it one more time! And I go round in this circle, nonstop, grabbing onto any semblance of information, any speck of hope for absolution. I just want to stop the pain inside of me, this nervous panicky feeling that resembles being abandoned, kicked out of my only home, and left naked on the floor of a monster’s adobe, all at once. I want to run and run through my mind’s files to find the answer, to bring anecdote, relief. Only I can’t. I can’t!

And still I find myself doing this—tramping, train, forest, file-finding—whatever. Just moving and moving and forging and forging. I get so tangled up in thought that the immobility sets in, and from there any tiny task seems impossible. Forget doing the dishes or leaving the house, the prospect of bending over and retrieving a piece of rubbish from the carpet seems as difficult as climbing Mt. Everest. I can’t bend. I can’t move. I can’t function. I shutdown, literally, like a computer on overload, overheated, and with her memory overstocked.

That’s it. I am done for. And from there I start to wonder what is wrong with me. I begin to brutally beat myself up. The whipping begins. It’s not so much: WHY can’t I solve this. It’s more so: WHY am I trying to solve this? WHY can’t I shut off my mind. WHAT is wrong with me. I AM flawed. I AM wrong. I NEED help. And there is NO ONE that can help me. The whipping continues on from there. I am good for nothing. How can I go on like this? How do I turn off my brain? And then the really redundant thoughts set in, that most humans suffer through, the ones based on childhood trauma and drama, all the negative messages we collective like to lick at like old wounds that won’t heal. I become that dog—lick lick lick—needing a cone over and about my head so something can save me from hurting me. But there’s no cone. Just me and my brain, my glorious brain.

Everything eventually leads to gluttony. Unless something stops me midstream, like an unexpected event or calling, something that catches my eye or heart, then I am okay, leaped out of the cyclic pain by a momentary distraction. The only thing is that my monster mind is still lurking in the background, that part of me that likes to munch at data and delete any sign of sanity.

I have yet to find a way to make any of this stop. Sure, I am getting closer as I delve into deeper and deeper analysis, bringing along a fleet of fellow Aspies with me that nod their heads and delirious gorgeous hearts in recognition. But it seems the deeper I dig the more grand the journey becomes—like opening up a jar and finding a universe inside. I just can’t seem to get to the end of me. And then I remember it’s my mind again, taking what it perceives as solvable and spinning the endless webs into oblivion.