The Difference in Work Atmospheres - Then and Now

This is how I perceive things.
When I lived on the West Coast, I was able to be myself at my jobs and I was not looked at as a bad employee because of it. I was the goof-off, not in my work, because I always did it and did it well, but I would do things like bring in an inflatable Gumby to work and everyone thought it was funny. When someone popped him, he was laid in wake on our front office table, with black "X"s sharpied over his eyes. My partner in crime was also my best friend. We were constantly doing crazy things and everyone just laughed it off.
The move out to the Midwest was a huge shock to me. People out here are so uptight at work. Like you can't have fun AND get your work done, too. And that's when I started having trouble at work. At one job, for a short period of time, my new best friend and I sat directly facing each other. We had a blast. And my friend even once did the PeeWee Herman bar dance in the middle of the aisle. And all was well. But then we got a new manager, I got into an altercation with a snotty bitch coworker, and I was separated from my friend - in fact, my entire team - and seated at the end of our aisle, right next to my boss' door, with my back to her and her facing me.
So. I think work attitudes out here just basically suck. I never was miserable at any job I had on the West Coast. Out here, everyone is so uptight and I can't stop being myself sometimes - it just leaks through - and then I am in trouble, looked down upon, etc.
I hope my new job isn't like this. They seem very laid back and I hope this is a place where I can just be me. Because I am tired of acting in the play of "worker bee" and in fact don't even think I possess the skills needed for it.
People from my state are unapproachable, passive-aggressive, and they don't reach out to be your friend if you haven't known them since preschool. The one good friend I have made out here is from my home state. The transplants are the ones I seem to get along with best.
So. This move was probably not the best move for someone like me. But... we got our house. We have our beautiful son because we were not going to have a baby until we owned a house. I understand more now why the shock of moving here turned me suicidal and landed me in a psych ward twice. It wasn't just the stress of the move, or leaving everyone I knew behind, family and friends. It was that I was now in a place that didn't accept me as me. And I couldn't adjust. I still haven't - all of the years I have been here I have always felt the need to pretend to be somebody I am not.
Now that I have found "my people", now that I have seen that there are others out there struggling like I am to fit into this uptight state's behavioral requirements, I feel freed. I will go to my job tomorrow, and be my best, hardworking self, but I WILL be my OWN self. If they don't like it, they can let me go. I can't play the game anymore. I am a package deal - me and my eccentricities. I am actually quite fun if you just loosen up a little and see me as I am.

Aspies can't lie?

It has been a long-held belief that people on the spectrum can't lie. I can't remember the reasoning behind this. Something to do with "theory of mind"? Anyhow, it's not true. At least not in my case.
Think of it. People like me who have worked very hard to fit in to society's norm are always lying. Because we're acting, which is a form of lying. We are behaving in ways that go against what we really want to do because we learn that acting the way we want to act gets us bullied, laughed at, sidelined. So we put on a disguise and go out into the world and pretend to be a regular person. I actually really respect those who refuse to playact and make their own way in the world. I chose to act as normal as possible.
It took me a while to figure it out. Elementary School was nightmarish in that I was constantly bullied and treated like dirt. By middle school I was a tad better off, but still the target of bullying. My saving grace was a group of wonderful girls who took me in as one of their own and who acted as a buffer from the bullies. And from them I learned how to act the part of a normal girl.
By High School I was not only an accomplished actress but also a damned good liar. To this day I can look at someone with my trustworthy big brown  eyes and lie straight to their face. I spent a lot of time honing this skill in HS when I became a rebel and had to lie to my parents often about my whereabouts and doings. In fact, I was at my most real in HS, because I had stopped worrying about looking and acting normal and instead simply rebelled against all that was expected. It helped that I went to a private catholic school in HS because there were so many phony, stuck up, rich snobs there that I really had no choice but to rebel.
So. My whole life I have had to lie; about who I am, what I am, and hide the real me inside.
I've come out of hiding now. Yes, I have to act appropriately in public, but my idea of "appropriate" may not jibe with what others consider appropriate.
This is another reason I think Asperger's is different from HFASD. I think Aspies can lie and do so quite well. HFASD on the other hand don't seem to learn how to "act" like  we do. They are always genuinely themselves. I admire that, but it also makes their lives more difficult than those of us who learn to act and lie. Or maybe it doesn't? Maybe they are the lucky ones because they never get buried in false personas - they remain true to themselves regardless of the consequences.
 

A Job... I Have a Job!!!!!!!

It's part-time. The hours are perfect, so I can be home to get M onto the bus and be home when he gets off the bus. During the summer I can drop him off at camp and pick him up. No weekends or holidays. Totally casual dress. Now the thing is, will I be successful? I already called the guy at the employment assistance center to let him know I got a job but I still want him to work with me because part of what they do is assist in "job retention". I will be working mostly on price sheets, keeping them up to date on Excel. I am cautiously excited. I start Monday!

Melatonin - who would have guessed?

Probably me, I suppose. We've been giving it to M since someone told us about it when he was about 6 and we were going crazy trying to get him to go to bed and stay in bed for as long as he had outgrown his "cage (crib)". He would get out of his bed and come out at least 3 times a night. The first couple of times we would walk him back in, tuck him in, kiss him goodnight, but after a couple more times the same night we'd be losing our temper and yelling at the kid to "GO TO SLEEP!!"
The first time we gave him melatonin he went to bed and stayed in bed and fell asleep. I thought it was a fluke and wouldn't last, but it did. We've bumped his dosage as he's grown, but he sleeps well now. The guilt I feel over all those nights when we got so mad at M for not sleeping, and it wasn't his fault....
Last night when M was taking his melatonin I asked him for a couple of pills. Now, I've had sleep problems my entire life. My DX now probably explains why. Many people on the ASD Spectrum don't make enough of their own melatonin to help their bodies sleep. I've been relying on sleeping pills for years.
Anyhow - I took then, and within 1/2 hour I was zonked and could barely make it to bed. I slept! with no sleeping pills! I slept well! I woke up feeling refreshed (for once)!. And it only took me 2 months to get the idea to try this. I'm such a dork!
It makes sense that if my son got his Asperger's from me that we would both have sleep troubles for the same reason. Gods - I went my whole young life not sleeping well or at all, and if they had known about melatonin then... oh well, that is past. I'm excited though, because the idea of not needing sleeping pills every night is just - well - exciting!

My Peeps!!

I went to a meetup for Aspies/high-functioning autistics for the first time tonight and met people JUST LIKE ME!! It was wonderful!! I felt like ET when his family came to take him home. I LOVE this!! Plus I found out about another place that specifically helps Aspies/HFASD people to find and retain jobs! I am over the moon right now. I have a lot to process.

No More Wallowing

I've been wallowing in self-pity. And I'm tired of it.
So here are the facts.
I don't have a job and don't know if I will be able to get one due to the fact that I got fired from my last job, have a recent bankruptcy on my record, and I have time constraints: I probably could have a job by now if I didn't have to make sure M got up in the morning and onto a bus at 8:45 AM. Most of the places that have shown an interest want someone who can start work at 7 or 8. Hubby has a good, solid (for the moment) job that starts at 5AM every day. We can't monkey with his job - he has been the main breadwinner for quite some time.
When summer comes, my mother was nice enough to pay for M to go to summer camp so he was not a couch potato every day if we were both working. Camp starts at 9, so still then, I need a later start time.
We have been trying to work with our bank since our financial situation went to hell and they finally came up with a plan to lower our monthly payments by about $300.00 a month. This helps.
I have an appointment tomorrow with my new career counselor and he will determine if I am eligible for their services.
I don't really want a job at this moment. I want to write. So I am going to write while I wait this through.
M thinks that I am upset that I got this DX and thinks that is why I am frantic and frightened and feeling sorry for myself. That's not really the case, because all along I expected the DX to be what it is.
He looks up to me and his dad. He needs me to be strong and show him that Aspies CAN get along well in life and that I can be optimistic that things will work out somehow. He needs to see me handling life however it is thrown at me or he won't believe he has the strength to be an adult with Asperger's.
So. Enough. Right here and now I choose to get on with my life, whatever it gives me, and deal. Stop the pity party. Show my son that hey, life craps on you and you wash yourself up and move along. Period.
Now I am going to go write. While my mother has spent the last 6+ months telling me what a piece of crap I am (for several reasons, but mostly because we were going broke and it was apparently my fault, and also because I think she is going bat-shit crazy), my father has been telling me, this is your opportunity. You've always wanted to write, so write.
I've spent over a month feeling crappy about everything. And I'm done with that. I'm writing. And I'm volunteering. And when the right job comes along, I will know. I am not at the mercy of the world - I am in charge of my own life. I'm taking that back. I should have never tossed it away. But it's mine again. I'm back. And if anyone tries to take control of my life, they can get f*cked.
 

Holding Pattern

I sit here day after day and wait for something to happen; the phone to ring about an application I submitted, or waiting to go to an appointment, waiting for my son and hubby to come home - WAITING.
I finally talked to my counselor from the Workforce Center. I go in this Thursday to meet with him and then it takes up to 60 days for them to determine if I am eligible for their services. I've already been dumped by Unemployment Resources. I guess I could always call them back if things don't work out at the WC.
There are tons of things I could be doing while I am home. I could clean the house. I do the dishes and laundry. I scoop up huge balls of dog hair when I find it.
I could be getting rid of all of the excess crap in this house. I feel too overwhelmed when I think of that so I do nothing. I just finished watching the complete Buffy series for the second time and also am getting to the end of Supernatural.
I walk the dog each day. I force myself to.
I actually went and got my hair cut today along with an  eyebrow and moustache wax. I actually went to Walgreen's, one of the stores I can go to without panicking. I felt quite productive today.
I have been applying for jobs. I have had phone interviews and even some in-person interviews. I feel like I flub them all up. I go in there, smile, make eye contact, say the right thing, and walk out and think, "they won't hire me". So far I've been right.
So. I hate this. Most of the time I sit in front of my computer and watch Netflix or go on Facebook or check my emails.
I do have a few things to look forward to. Tomorrow I have an interview at a temp agency. Friday I am going to my first meetup for adults with Asperger's. I'm hoping I feel like I belong there. I also have the Employment Resources meeting. And next Thursday I meet with my psychologist for the first time since my DX, when we can start getting down to business on my brain.
So there's that.
I'm volunteering at the Autism Society every Saturday helping an art teacher work with 3 very sweet little Aspies.
So tell me this. Why do I feel so helpless, hopeless, and alone? I mean, I guess I know the reason. It's not like I haven't felt this way many times in my life. But right now I feel at the mercy of an agency that may or may not choose to help me find work, and I am at the mercy of every company I apply to, whether they choose to give me a chance at a job or not.
I hate being out of control of my life. And yes, I always am, I know that intellectually, but when I have a job and am feeling useful, it gives me the illusion of being in control. Right now nothing seems in my control. It's pretty discouraging.

Pieces

I think about my actions these days. I mull over my thoughts. I consider "Is this the real me, or is this the false me I've been living in all these years?" many times a day.
These parts are the real me, because I have always owned these parts...

I am impatient.
I want things my way and find it difficult to give in to doing things someone else's way.
I am lost.
I am frustrated and angry with other people for being stupid, narrow-minded, bullies, and bad drivers.
I myself am not the best driver.
I hate hate HATE surprises. Tell me in advance. Don't just drop it in my lap.
I can't stand being in a crowd of people.
I can't stand trying to talk to just one person I don't know well.
I hate small talk and find it pointless.
I hate even going to the movies because one trollhead who talks during the movie will ruin the whole experience for me.
I sometimes want to punch people in the face when they annoy me.

So I noticed that the pieces I listed are all negatives. I decided to challenge myself to find real pieces of myself that are positives, too, because I can't be all bad at my core......

I love writing and have been told I am a creative and good writer by more than one teacher.
I love singing, and I sing decently.
I love reading, and I was a quick learner in school and I devoured books like I could never get enough.
I care for other people. I feel for the mistreated, the bullied, the underdogs. Because I identify with them.
I stand up for these people and even sometimes try to help them.
I have a very, very sensitive soul. This may be a negative. I'm not sure.
I don't care about fashion or shoes or purses or even makeup. This, too, may be a negative.
I love animals and feel a special connection to them. But then I eat animals. Another negative?
I have been told I am very smart.

The rest of me? That's where I still need to sort....

The years I spent being the "star employee", "Boss' pet", the one everyone could rely upon, the one who came up with new ideas that my bosses loved and put into action - I'm not sure that was really me. I think it was a persona that fell away because I haven't been a boss' dream in many years.

The person who wanted other kids' approval and would do anything for it. That's actually probably the real me. That makes me ashamed of myself.

The person who went out for drinks and dancing with friend when the music was too loud and I never could dance. But I wanted friends.

The person  who has self-medicated in so many different ways over the years - real, but why? Because I couldn't understand what was real about me and had to just zone out to get through life?

FACTS:

I am a mother. And from how my son is growing up, I seem to be doing okay at that.
I am a wife. This has been more difficult for me and any man besides Hubby would have walked away years ago. I am a challenging person to live with.
I am a person who grew up not knowing that she had Asperger's and not knowing why she never fit in.
I am a person with Asperger's.
I am alive, and I can take care of myself (this may not be true; I've never lived alone).
I love my dog, and before I developed an allergy to cats, I loved my cats.
I grew up in a beautiful part of the country, never wanting for anything, and didn't appreciate it until I left that area and had to fend for myself (with my husband's help).
Probably my biggest mistake was moving away from where I grew up to where I live now.
Probably the best thing I ever did was move away from where I grew up so we could afford a home so we could have a child, because Hubby and I didn't want a child until we had a proper home. So I never would have had M.

So that's it. Pieces of myself. Figuring out which pieces are real, which are personas I buried my true self under, and if they were, do they serve me well or stifle me?

 

Crumbling Foundations

I have a theory about why my life went so crazy.
All my life, I have been constructing a carefully designed foundation of normalcy - my personality, my competencies, the way I wanted people to see me.
When I had M (my son), that was the first crack in my foundation. Stress from raising my difficult Aspie child started chipping away at the whole "me" I had created to fit into the life I believed I had to fit into.
And then - years of fighting the school district to get M into the right school setting - years that brought out the Monster Bitch From Hell, which was never part of my carefully assembled package - caused everything to tumble like dominoes - my home life, my work life, my whole person. I could not keep the façade up any longer.
What I didn't realize until my DX was that all I was WAS a façade. A cardboard cutout of whom I thought I needed to be - the star pupil, the star employee, the one everyone could count on to be reliable.
I hate being reliable. I used to love being the star employee but it came with such a price, a price of spending too much time not being true to myself.
But I don't know who I am, really. Not anymore.
I am a mother, and for all intent and purpose a pretty decent one.
I am a wife. I haven't been a great wife, but I have done my best.
A worker? What sort of work do I want to do?
I took the SMART test which was supposed to narrow down my interests into easy categories from which a job could be selected that fit the "real me" and I could train for that job and become that employee.
My SMART test just showed how truly complicated things are in my head. Nothing showed up as a strong point, although I had many weak points.
I feel like I am in a holding pattern. I am waiting for a phone call from my Disabilities Job Assistance counselor. I am going over and over in my head the jobs I have held in my life and which I truly enjoyed and which I only thought I enjoyed. Does that make sense? I don't know. I only know that I have been working in Customer Service for most of my career and I scored very low on my interest in Customer Service on my SMART test. I actually hate ringing phones. I hate being interrupted by phone calls when I am focusing on something else. I only did it for so long because it looks so good on my resume - all of my experience. But the best jobs I have help in my opinion were those where I was not in a phone queue, waiting for calls. I was once working for a sign company designing signs. I loved that. I had a customer service job that wasn't really customer service - it was more like quality auditing. I enjoyed that, but my boss was a bitch. I worked in quality auditing and was tucked away in a quiet cubicle and my boss trusted me completely to get my job done and I excelled at that job. No interruptions. No phone calls.
So what sort of job does the "Real Me" want? It's hard to determine since I am still sorting the real me from the façade I have constructed and tried to hold together for over 40 years.
This not knowing, this needing to sift through my life to find my true pieces and discard the false parts frustrates me, and I am impatient about it and want it to happen quickly. I know it won't. I hate waiting but I know I am in a holding pattern now as I work with my job counselor (if he ever calls me) and my psychologist to determine who I really am.
I wish I could toss everything aside and start with a fresh foundation. There's a house down the street from us that was torn down and rebuilt from the beginning. Across the street from us is a house that is being completely remodeled. It is taking twice as long as the rebuilt house, and every day there are different people there - electrical workers, painters, appliance deliverymen. I am like the house across the street when I want to be like the house down the street where I can strip everything away and simply start over. But part of my life is genuine and I can't tear it all down. So I need to rebuild the time-consuming way, keeping what works and repairing or replacing what does not. This overwhelms me to the point where I feel like I can't move at all. I hope that the help I am trying to get will give me the tools I need to remodel myself.

So the Issues I'm Having

These started long before my diagnosis, and I keep my psychiatrist busy with all of this, but this is what I am dealing with right now.....
Panic attacks - for no apparent reason sometimes, other times it's because I need to go to a store I would rather not go into. Large stores freak me out, and I panic the entire time I am in one. I have to push down the panic just to get myself to drive to the store and walk into it.
Anxiety - which leads to panic attacks but also sort of always is in me, over trivial things.
Depression - I have lived with this forever. It's my forever "friend" and only antidepressants keep it at bay, but even then I have days when I just can't shake it. Some days I can barely move from the couch to do anything.
Sleep Problems - Another Forever Friend. My psychiatrist gives me pills for this. I remember going for days not sleeping as a kid. I hated lying awake all night.
BUT......
I am not going to allow these to stop me from living my life. I force myself through situations I don't want to deal with. I don't want to become agoraphobic so I force myself to leave the house. I walk the dog, drive to the bank. I can do drug stores. Grocery stores overwhelm me and I have trouble but I can push down the panic if I need to to get the items I need. Department stores - I avoid them completely if possible.
This is only when I am alone. When I am with my husband or son I am better at navigating situations. They ground me. It's the being alone part that makes things difficult. I will never stop trying, though. I can't let these issues stop me from living my life.

I seem to have already made a mess of my new blogsite. I'm trying to fix it. Meanwhile, you can check out my old blogs under my "about me" heading. I'm a dork. :/
 

This is What Happened

 

Twelve years ago, I gave birth to a baby boy who is the love of my life. He was a very difficult baby and as he grew older - and bigger - and stronger - life became its own roller coaster of a mess. You can read all about those days in my old blogs. This blog is about me.
As my son grew up, I noticed more and more that we seemed to have quite a bit in common. I seemed to know what he needed and thought it was motherly instinct.
Until I realized that my life was falling apart and I had no idea why.
I was having trouble at my job.
I was having trouble just living life.
I got curious. Was I losing my mind? I've always felt off-kilter but I always seemed to be able to hold myself together, until recently.
This foundation I thought was my life, that I had built so carefully for 47 years, was crumbling beneath me.
I needed answers.
I was referred to a psychologist who specializes in ASD teens and adults. I met with him three times. Two of those times, my husband was with me. We have been married for 28 years and could give some good history of at least my early adulthood. I supplied what I could remember of my childhood.
The diagnosis was not a huge surprise. When the psychologist told me that I more than met the requirements for Asperger's, I almost smiled. But then this crushing feeling came down on me. All of this time I had been living a life without knowing who I truly was.
Since the eggheads who write the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders had decided to remove Asperger's as a legitimate diagnosis the beginning of this year, my official diagnosis is High Functioning Autistic. But my psychologist told me, you have Aspergers. I can't diagnose you with that, but that is what you have.
So here I sit, two months without a job, one month knowing that I am an Aspie and grew up unaware.
I have a need to comb through my life and rewrite it through the eyes of an Aspie. How would I have viewed my young life if I had known my brain was wired differently (like my son does)? Would I have had an easier time knowing why I felt like an outsider, a weirdo, someone who didn't understand what others seemed to grasp so easily? Would I have avoided the depression that has clung to me my entire life? Would I have chosen a totally different path in life than the one I chose? I don't know. I just know that now I know. And it has changed me. I am still trying to accept it. I am trying to move beyond the label and get to know myself as I really am, instead of this person I constructed in an attempt to fit into this world.
I was working with Unemployment Resources until I received my diagnosis, and then was unceremoniously dumped by my counselor after telling him and referred to a new place that helps people with disabilities get trained for jobs. From a video I watched compliments of the Autism Society, I have a good chance at finding a job in a mailroom, sorting mail, or a library, putting away and organizing books. I could also be an assembly line worker, screwing little screws into parts as they come barreling down nonstop.
I could do any of those things. I would rather stick a sharp stick through my eye. Of course, before dumping me, my counselor at Unemployment Resources suggested I could have a lucrative career at a major fast food chain or a bullseye-type store as a cashier. I told him that I had done both of those things as a teenager and I'd be damned if that was all I was able to do. I have an amazing resume and have done some amazing things, including teaching myself AutoCAD in my twenties. Maybe my response led to the unceremonious dumping?
So. I'm job-hunting. I'm waiting to get a call from this new place to see if I "qualify" for their services. I'm volunteering at the Autism Society as a teacher's aide for a weekend art class.
I am in a holding pattern in my life.
I have had interviews. I have done what I consider to be very well in those interviews. Nobody has called me back.
I apply for jobs. Sometimes I get phone interviews.
But I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my past job failure seems to be linked to the fact that my Asperger's got tired of being buried under all of these false personas and my brain simply shut down. My mind now spends its time plaguing me with depression, anxiety, sleep problems, the inability to deal with stress anymore, and any other evils it can slip in.
So. This is me. An Aspie who spent probably more than half of her life not knowing what she was. An Aspie with an Aspie child who seems to be dealing with life better than his own mother. The bomb has been dropped, and I'm the one who pushed the button. Stick around. This ought to be interesting.

 

 

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