Diary of an Aspie: 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).