Out with the Old... and In with the New!

I’ve always approached new things with trepidation. Will I be good enough? Will people be nice to me? Will I feel safe and comfortable? Those are just three of the endless number of questions that race through my mind when I am faced with change.

This past week has been no different. I took a huge leap of faith. I left the pizzeria that I’ve been working at for over a year, in favor of a job at a nicer, more upscale restaurant. As important as it was for me to do this, it was also a decision that did not come easy. I’ve been “attempting to leave” the pizzeria for about four months, but it’s hard for me to leave the known for the unknown. Fortunately, I finally shut my brain up long enough to listen to my heart.

So giving notice and preparing to leave the predictable was done... but the hard parts were still to come. There’s always the question of “do I tell my co-workers about my Aspergers?” Of course management knows; but is it something I’m ready and willing to share?  There’s also the question of presentation; that is, “how do I present myself?” I know I’m an uptight worker who wants to do everything perfectly... but I also know that the personality I just described is the cause of 99% of the problems I have with my co-workers. Is it possible for me to start anew at this new job and not show the side of myself that’s anal-retentive? If I am able to conceal that part of myself and people want to become friendly, how do I do that? How do I go about fitting in? So many questions flooded my mind and I hadn’t even gotten to job related questions yet.

I am pleasantly surprised to say: not only did my first two days go better than expected; I have not one bad thing to report. I found myself in an amazing environment. At first things were a bit difficult. I didn’t quite understand all of what my trainer was saying. I took some of it too literally... as usual... but after explaining that I have Aspergers, she immediately changed her approach. As it turns out, she has two brothers on the spectrum as well. Not only is she incredibly sensitive to my situation and my needs; she made sure that I knew that if ANYONE gave me a hard time I was to let her know immediately because she would not tolerate it. Other than my mom, I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before.

Another long-time employee was standing near us when I told her about my Aspergers. He attempted to be helpful (he really did) by taking it to management and asking whether we should disclose to the entire staff. Thankfully I had the courage to speak up and say that I had intended on telling the three hostesses I’d be working with on a daily basis and leaving it with that unless it became necessary to disclose to others. It was a much smoother conversation than any others I’ve had on the topic.

Another thing that made my time so special was meeting a woman named Ashley. This woman is on the spectrum and eats at the restaurant every day. She often sits for hours, drawing pictures for the staff, chatting, entertaining herself... but what really surprised and inspired me was when I was told that Ashley sometimes works for the restaurant. Any company that will take someone with needs like hers under their wing is a company I want to be a part of.

My 24th Birthday (only 2 months late)

It may seem strange, what I chose to do for my 24^th birthday, but then again; if you read my blog, you already know to expect the unexpected. My mom came to visit me for my birthday and we planned a trip to San Antonio. Let me preface this post by saying that I have never had more than a sip of wine and my 21^st birthday party was 100% dry. That said, the “typical” birthday celebrations don’t necessarily apply to me.

After spending the previous year alone on my birthday, my mom was determined to make this one great. I would NOT be cooking my own cake. I would NOT be eating a personal pan pizza all alone in my apartment. I WOULD be doing something exciting with my mom.

We went back and forth for awhile about what to do. My mom loves amusement parks (I do too, but I don’t ride thrill rides and she loves them) so we considered going to Six Flags. Well... let’s just say I went through a period of obsession with investigating amusement park accidents and a LARGE number of them took place in Texas. Add that to the large number of rides in the park that I wouldn’t be able to ride and Six Flags was out.

The next thought was one that a part of me still wishes we had gone with. There is a park called Morgan’s Wonderland that was created for guests with special needs. They provide free admission to guests with special needs and very reasonably priced admission for everyone else. They have done amazing things to accommodate their guests. Each guest receives a GPS Adventure Band with an RFID chip in it. This band can be used to capture memories and photos, but can also easily be used to locate members of your group. Food and drink can be brought into the park, so those with allergies, special diets, and food sensitivities can know they won’t go hungry. What really caught my eye was the Sensory Village. Specially designed with Autistic kids in mind, the sensory village would have been really cool to see. Unfortunately, when I called the park, they told me that I was probably too high functioning to really enjoy myself. I wish I hadn’t taken their word for it. I wish I had gone, even for just an hour, so I could have seen it for myself.

After that, other ideas were tossed around. We discussed going to the River Walk, but I was concerned about the number of people in such a small space and that I would not be happy there. We thought about going to a “wildlife ranch” but it was a drive thru and my mom made a good point when she said that I’d want to stop the car and watch the animals while those behind us would be blaring their horns.

Finally we decided. For my 24^th birthday, I wanted to go to the San Antonio Zoo and Sea World.

I knew there would be a lot of people and it wouldn’t be the most comfortable experience I’d ever had, but I was so excited, it almost didn’t matter... ALMOST.

Sure, I’d been to amusement parks before without major issues. We love Disney! But thinking back on our trips, something about Disney has always been different. I’ve described it before like I was watching myself do things and that’s kind of how my trips to Disney were. When it got crowded, I would escape and somehow that worked for me. It must be the magic of Disney. You hear all the time of kids with Autism who act like a different person the minute they set foot on Disney property. As for previous trips to other amusement parks, I almost always enjoyed myself on the rides, but found myself very self-consciously moving through the lines, making sure that I never accidentally brushed up against someone else or got too close to anyone. If I saw a crowded line, I would tell whomever I was with that we could come back to the ride. More often than not, they said it would be worth the wait and I was stuck waiting, but although I never expressed my feelings out loud, the truth is, crowds and I have never mixed well.

The morning of our trip finally arrived. Mom and I got in the car early in the morning, set the radio to Greg Bell’s Radio Classics, and within about ten minutes, I was out cold. Poor mom drove the entire way with me sleeping (and never complained once. THANKS MOM!) When we got to the zoo, I was in awe. There was so much to see and we hadn’t even gotten out of the parking lot yet. I love photography so I was taking pictures of trees and bridges and signs and wasn’t even worried about getting into the actual zoo.

When we did get into the zoo, we immediately realized that we’d picked a great time to go. It wasn’t too crowded and I’d just be able to enjoy. And I did enjoy myself. My mom said that there’s nothing like going to the zoo with me. I studied each monkey, lemur, orangutan, and tamarin. I took pictures of everything and every animal. I gleefully went from habitat to habitat, spouting off little known facts about each animal, explaining why that animal enthralled me, and attempting to build a connection with the animal. I was able to connect with some; I coaxed some out of hiding and some even posed for me. I never pushed and never rushed them. I waited for them to come to me. Although we left the zoo exhausted and dripping with sweat, it was an amazing experience and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

The next morning, I was 24 years old and my mom and I were on a shuttle headed to Sea World.

When I was just a little girl, my parents had taken my brother and I to Sea World in Florida. The park is literally in my aunt and uncle’s backyard. They didn’t come to the park with us, but we were going to see them afterwards. My Auntie Rozie was an amazing cook. That day, my mom and dad had let my brother and I eat popcorn for lunch. “Don’t tell Auntie” they told us.

...Well, we got into the car and I opened up my little mouth and said “Auntie Auntie, guess what we had for lunch!? Popcorn!”

Having lost my aunt since moving to Texas, I was a bit emotional about going to Sea World. In the shuttle, mom and I re-enacted the story, laughing as we went. Once we pulled up, I was too awestruck to be worried about my emotions.

I’d like to say I dealt with the crowds in a fantastic manner and overcame my Aspergers... but come on, this is reality. We got our tickets easily. We were at the beginning of the line of people to go into the park. My troubles began when a woman decided to form her own line where one didn’t exist. I was going out of my mind. I know it had nothing to do with me, but she was talking very loudly and she was wrong and I just couldn’t stop myself from commenting. Luckily, being me, I commented to my mom and no one else.

Then, we learned that the maps they had just given us were incorrect and there would be a stand when we got into the park with the correct maps on them. There was absolutely no way I could head towards the mosh pit that stand would undoubtedly become, so I didn’t. Mom went to the stand and I went to the flamingos. Being as quiet and unthreatening as ever, they began to come over to me and let me take their pictures. Mom got into the next big throng of people, waiting to go to one of the theatres, and I happily stayed with the flamingos. I stayed with them until people started invading. I know it’s a public place and I know that’s what the exhibit is there for, but the people were clearly making the flamingos uncomfortable. Much like the previous day at the zoo when I would stay after other visitors had moved on, I noticed a change in the behavior of the animals from the time when I was there alone to the time when these people all crowded around and started making noise. Feeling as uncomfortable as the flamingos, I went to find my mom.

After listening to (and impromptu signing) the national anthem, the park was opened and we were on our way to the first show. We knew it would be busy, so we found an end where I could be, so I didn’t have to sit next to a stranger, and we spread out a little bit so that I didn’t feel claustrophobic. My mom and I both had a terrific time at the show. I took tons of pictures. It was a great start to our day. The thing I didn’t count on was the exit. Mom tried to get me out of the theatre before everyone started pouring out, but it didn’t quite work and I was stuck feeling very claustrophobic, cupping my hands around my eyes to give myself tunnel vision so I didn’t see as many people, and struggling to get out. I never thought I would admit this, but if that’s what it took to be able to enjoy the show, I’d do it again.

And so it went. We went from show to show; our strategy tightening each time. Before the final show of the day, I needed food so mom had me go stand at the entrance while she got something to eat. Thinking back, either way we had done this, it would have had the same result. I was okay at the beginning. There weren’t too many people and I was at the front of the line. Then, all at once, it was packed. There was no line, only a mob of people jostling each other. I stood there with my arms drawn in tightly and just tried to stay calm. When my mom finally got to me, she thanked a woman behind me. I had no idea, but a stranger had noticed through my body language that something was wrong and had used her own body as a barrier to keep people away from me. I don’t know the stranger’s name, but I am very grateful to her. Once my mom joined me, I got the attention of a security guard (which I’d been trying to do the whole time without success) and he let us stand on the other side of the gate so that I wasn’t stuck in the mob. I didn’t handle it in a fantastic manner, but looking back, I’m proud of myself.

Our last stop of the day was the dolphins. I had wanted to save them for the end because I wanted them to be the last thing on my mind when I left. Mom and I caught the very last training session of the day and I stayed around afterwards taking photos and observing. One dolphin in particular did connect with me. He kept swimming over to me, even though I didn’t have any fish to give him. He posed for my camera; time after time. I firmly believe that dolphin understood (the autistic mind).

Oh, and as for something special to remember my Auntie Rozie:

Mom and I played one of the boardwalk games and I won a pink orca that I named Rosie. 

For The Love Of Animals

I’ve always loved animals. Not always in the conventional way... When I was younger, I was terrified of dogs. I loved to look at them, I just didn’t want them jumping all over me or trying to lick my face.

I was fascinated by animals. What did they think about? How did they see the world? Did a dog know he was being laughed at when his owner taught him a new trick? Did he feel sad? Did the cat curled up at the foot of the cradle where the newborn baby slept know that she guarding a new life or was she just napping?

Of all animals, I fell in love with monkeys, horses, and dolphins. I’ll start with horses because it’s the easiest to explain. It’s relatively “normal” behavior for a young girl to desire a horse of her own. I was no exception. I wanted a horse. I wanted to ride. I wanted it all... but I had to choose between dance and riding and having danced all my life, riding never stood a chance. Instead I studied horses. I collected books from the local second hand book shop on horse anatomy, how they move, how they live, how to draw horses... I collected fictional books, like The Saddle Club series and of course watched the Canadian television series of the books. I was addicted to the television show Wildfire; even participated in the crazy plans to save the show after it was canceled.

Screen capture from the pilot episode of Wildfire

In school, I did a project on equestrian therapy and decided that someday I would do that. We had to do a financial assignment where we “purchased” real estate and explained how we could justify the expenditures. Mine was simple: I chose a large ranch out in California. It had stables, a guest house; everything I would need to start my own therapy ranch. I got an A on the project, but the comment left was “a great idea but where’s this money coming from?”

I dreamed of riding. In my imaginary world, I rode all the time. It was amazing. That said, my imagination was nowhere near the real thing. I’d done pony rides before. At camp, I was so small that when the rest of my group got too big to ride Midnight (the camp pony), I got to spend all my time with her. I’d also led horse rides before. I worked an apple festival with a friend of mine and we each led horses around a ring as young children rode atop them. I loved interacting with the horses, but I wasn’t riding. Finally my time came.

I’d been begging my dad for years to go, just the two of us, on a father-daughter vacation to the country. We’d go riding, look at the stars, have a picnic... I just knew that if we went, it would be perfect. We finally went in the summer of 2006. I was 15 years old, about to turn 16. Our trip was, in one word, amazing.

In my own words “riding a horse is nature’s Zoloft”. It’s true. It releases serotonin to the brain, allowing even the most depressed person to feel happiness. Sure, my dad and I did other things on the trip. We went to a waterfall and climbed all the way to the top, we drove for two hours without finding a restaurant, we saw Chicago live onstage... but NOTHING beat that trail ride. I got to share one of my favorite firsts with my dad and that is something I’ll treasure forever.

I’ve gone riding since, but every time I go, I think back to that first time. I think back to Aurora, me, dad, and Connecticut. I think back and I smile.

Next we have monkeys. I’ve always felt a special connection to monkeys. My very first trip to the Boston Science Museum cemented that connection. Upon entering the Cotton-Top Tamarin exhibit, I was fascinated and didn’t want to leave. If left to my own devices, I would have spent hours in that room watching the tamarins and learning. My grandmother took us to the science museum a lot growing up. I’d regale her with the story of the tamarins and why one was missing its tail. I’d tell her about their lives in the wild and how their lives had changed and stayed the same since being placed in captivity. I’d sometimes draw a crowd of listeners. It was funny really; fully grown adults hanging on my every word as though I worked there, when in reality I just loved the exhibit.

Any time we went to the zoo, I immediately wanted to go see the monkeys. I loved them all. I studied them. I watched their movements. They were careful. They seemed timid at times, especially the gorillas. If I stayed long enough, they’d start to relax... even let me take pictures. They were like me... uncomfortable when people were staring at them and causing a ruckus but content when left to their own devices. As I explained to my mom: “it’s like they have Aspergers too”.

I stood and watched. I talked in a soothing voice, made soft noises, and waited for them to come to me. Nine times out of ten, they did.

I always wanted a monkey of my own. Monkeys are the only animal in the known universe that can communicate with humans. I sign, monkeys can learn to sign. I was always fascinated by that capability. I wanted to put it to the test myself. See how a monkey acquires language. I know I’ll never be able to do that... but it’s still nice to dream.

Finally there are the dolphins. Dolphins are the most intelligent of creatures. As much as I see myself in a monkey, I also see myself in a dolphin. Dolphins are intelligent but shy. They strive to reach great heights and keep trying no matter what. There’s actually research going on that’s discovering that children with Autism and dolphins communicate in very much the same way.

The research shows that dolphins and high functioning Autistics (read Aspies) possess “intuitive genius”. The (amount of) cycle of brain waves in Aspie children and dolphins is equal; both lie in the “intuitive genius” range. According to the research: “At such a high mental processing level, dolphins and autistic children have the ability to pierce space and time and communicate through what is known as “thought transference”. In a split second, they can feel and read a person’s energy and respond.” (Jean Genet)

So why am I talking about animals? You’ll find out tomorrow.

One Amazing Woman

It’s been awhile since my last entry. I guess you could say my need for routine has loosened a bit... I still jot notes down every night but I no longer need to publish a complete blog post before going to sleep. That said, I am pleased that there are some changes happening in my life that will allow me more time to write again. I still feel that this blog is important, not just to me, but to someone who will someday read it and use it as a resource, either to understand the mind of their child or to understand themselves.

I stopped my daily writing in September, when my mom came for a visit. I was so excited for her arrival. A lot of girls say it, but my mom is truly my best friend. We have a closer relationship than most mothers and daughters do. We had the same extracurricular activity for 20 years. We spent night after night at the studio together. We had rituals like Tuesday night dinners at Friendly’s before dance and cookies at the bakery on Saturdays between classes. At home, my mom would call me into the family room and FORCE me to practice my dances... but I always knew them and that always made me feel good about myself.

But it wasn’t just dance. My mom is simply awesome! She knows from my voice when something is wrong, she always knows how to make everything okay, and she’s the only one who can calm me down when I am panicking. She knows just how to make me laugh and when to be serious. Sure, we fight. Every mother and daughter do... But I wouldn’t know what to do without her.

The day of mom’s arrival I was on cloud 9. I got to work and was dancing around the store telling everyone who would listen that my mom was coming. All day, I kept peeking towards the front of the store, waiting for that familiar face to come through that door. Of course, nothing is like it is in the movies. My mom came in while I was with a customer and rather than running to greet her as I had intended, I instead had to settle for a tiny wave and 15 excruciating minutes of a customer asking inane questions about every item on the shelf in front of them.

FINALLY the customer decided to leave, of course empty handed, and I was free to go give my mom a hug.  This showing of affection surprised my co-workers who know me as the “please don’t touch me” girl. (We have a customer who comes in regularly and gives me a hug every time he sees me. After explaining about my Aspergers 6 or 7 times, I finally decided to just grin and bear it and awkwardly stand there until he lets go.) I’ve always been able to show affection towards my family members and have never had an issue with physical contact when it came to family (except with my Nana, who said I didn’t kiss her like I meant it... I was just putting my lips to her face... but I don’t know if that was an Aspie thing or not), but I can see where my co-workers shock stemmed from.

What happened next truly surprised me. My coworkers figured out a way that I could leave for the day and spend more time with my mom. They took care of everything. They got coverage, managerial permission, and sent us on our way. I had been excited for my mom to meet my team; the people who I was working WITH not beside... but they gave me a more momentous thing to celebrate: true friendship. It’s not co-workers who will go out of their way to make sure you get to spend time with your mom; it’s friends.