Have you ever stopped and thought about how easy it is to say hello to another person? To ask how their day is? Maybe strike up a conversation?
Imagine now that saying hello to someone is enough to freeze you in panic. Like a band is tightening around your insides. All from a simple hello.
When you have Asperger's syndrome, social interaction is hard wired to be one of the most terrifying things imaginable. Something most people in this world would take for granted, like the ability to talk, walk, hear, see.
It is easier for us to relate to the person who cannot walk than the person who cannot talk to another without a paralysing fear taking over them. That is easy to understand. The ability to interact socially is key to human society. At all levels of society this ability is an asset rather than a disability.
Research has shown that in the brain of a person with Asperger's is structurally different than the brain of a normal person. This means social queues are interpreted differently. Often a person with Asperger's needs to process this information, which can take longer than the few instances a normal conversation allows. Asperger's people often report that they think of the right thing to say at a later time. This is because they have to process a conversation by comparing the conversation to previous experiences. This is a slow process compared with the normal process most people will experience.
I would imagine it is similar to learning to play the piano. At first you are clumsy and slow and unsure. Then eventually after practice you get better at it until it becomes second nature to look at the notes on a piece of paper and make your fingers do the work. Kind of like a child taking their first stumbling steps until they can run and play like any other child.
Expect for an Asperger's person in a way never get past those first bumbling steps. Imagine speaking to your mother or brother or sister and having in the back of your mind that you are saying or doing something wrong. Imagine if someone says a simple hello you are crippled by a paralysing fear of not being able to understand those signals readily. Imagine trying to come up with a response but it just seems like your brain can't think fast enough. You always feel like a piece is missing when you are speaking to someone and it is frustrating and terrifying. Frustrating like trying to make two ends of rope join without glue or a knot and terrifying because you have no idea what the correct response is.
This fear and anxiety over the reactions an Asperger's person will receive for their attempts at interaction is what drives them to seek solitude and to avoid social interaction. It takes a special kind of person to look past the unusual exterior and see the real person for this reason.
Tuesday 29 May 2012
Friday 25 May 2012
what does depression feel like?
Imagine how you feel floating in water. You feel light weight and sort of cushioned.
Take that feeling and now add weights to your arms and legs. You feel numb, you feel light headed, you feel like you are not inside your body, like there is just a thin thread of energy holding you to this physical form. You tell yourself to move but the connection seems broken. You want to feel something, but you just can't seem to feel anything.
There seems to be a weight on top of you, but you feel nothing. Everything seems hazy and distant, you see the world but not really. Its like a fog is trying to roll in and block your view.
I would say it is much like swimming in tar. You are trying to fight even though you know it is useless to fight. You want to fight but everything is disconnected. Darkness rolls in from the edges, making vision disappear. Depression, like a blanket, wraps itself around you, but more like a snake, saps all that you are from your fragile human shell.
You just want something, anything, to make you feel something. The numbness is like being locked in a room alone. After a while you hate the blank walls around you and no matter how hard you scream no one seems to listen, let alone understand. So you try to feel something. Pain. Taste. Anything.
Pain reminds you that you live. It reminds you that the little thread connecting to your body is still there and strong enough to pull you in. For me, I personally do not self harm any more, but I understand it.
It is also a cry for someone to see the pain that is inside. It is a sign of deep and troubling thoughts. One who self harms cannot put into words what they feel so they express it otherwise.
Perhaps I do self harm. When I get depressed I eat. So my waist line gets bigger. The taste of chocolate is comforting. Where others have failed to understand, chocolate seems to not judge but for an instant while it is on my tongue I get a wave of delight.
A wave, a blip, that is quickly swallowed again by darkness.
Take that feeling and now add weights to your arms and legs. You feel numb, you feel light headed, you feel like you are not inside your body, like there is just a thin thread of energy holding you to this physical form. You tell yourself to move but the connection seems broken. You want to feel something, but you just can't seem to feel anything.
There seems to be a weight on top of you, but you feel nothing. Everything seems hazy and distant, you see the world but not really. Its like a fog is trying to roll in and block your view.
I would say it is much like swimming in tar. You are trying to fight even though you know it is useless to fight. You want to fight but everything is disconnected. Darkness rolls in from the edges, making vision disappear. Depression, like a blanket, wraps itself around you, but more like a snake, saps all that you are from your fragile human shell.
You just want something, anything, to make you feel something. The numbness is like being locked in a room alone. After a while you hate the blank walls around you and no matter how hard you scream no one seems to listen, let alone understand. So you try to feel something. Pain. Taste. Anything.
Pain reminds you that you live. It reminds you that the little thread connecting to your body is still there and strong enough to pull you in. For me, I personally do not self harm any more, but I understand it.
It is also a cry for someone to see the pain that is inside. It is a sign of deep and troubling thoughts. One who self harms cannot put into words what they feel so they express it otherwise.
Perhaps I do self harm. When I get depressed I eat. So my waist line gets bigger. The taste of chocolate is comforting. Where others have failed to understand, chocolate seems to not judge but for an instant while it is on my tongue I get a wave of delight.
A wave, a blip, that is quickly swallowed again by darkness.
Thursday 24 May 2012
What's in a label?
I am me. I am a person. I am a woman. I am a wife, a daugther, a sister.
Yet I have a label. I am not that label. Yet I will be judged by that label.
What does it mean to have the label placed on you? To be labelled with a mental illness?
While it might seem easy for one looking in to say "but if you know what it is then you can get help and people will understand" that is often far from the truth.
What do you think of when you think of autism? I would bet heavily it is not a fully functioning person who goes to work every day and has a loving family waiting at home for them. I would be you would think of the more classic definition of a person who cannot communicate, control their body or understand the world around them. You would consider them invalid for all intensive purposes.
Asperger's syndrome is a form of autism. A mild form so to speak. It is found on the autism spectrum, much like learning disorders like dyslexia and other disorders like ADD or ADHD. Think again. Would you label someone as mentally unstable or mentally challenged if they had dyslexia for instance? Unlikely. I'm guessing you would accept they have a problem and work with it. You would not view them as unstable or crazy.
Yet this is the world we face. We would like to think we live in an ideal world where we can walk around screaming at the top of our lungs "I have Asperger's Syndrome! I am depressed! I have severe anxiety!" The real world is often not that kind. It is just like we would like to pretend that racism, sexism, homophobia and so on does not exist. It does. It will always exist. No matter your skin colour, sexual preference, gender, age, height, weight etc there is at least one point in your life where you will be discriminated because of this characteristic.
However unlike the examples given previously, mental disorders can be hidden. There is little a practised veteran of society will show outwardly to the average Joe of their condition. We long term suffers get pretty good at this. Only our loved ones might know something is really wrong because of the subtle changes in behaviour.
Perhaps it is good that we long term suffers can hide these conditions. We appear strong to the world. Yet often we are more like spider silk in a storm. There is strength but all it takes is the right rain drop to destroy that fragile mentality we hold onto. And if we were judged by our condition, which is not who we are but a label created to describe us to others, then we would suffer at the hands of others endless.
When my husband first learned of my diagnosis with Asperger's, he was at first accepting. He just figured that everything would be alight and we would continue on. I encouraged him to read on the subject. I wanted him to be educated. I wanted him to know what he faced.
At first he shrugged it off saying he already knew what he was in for. But it wasn't until he read a poorly written article that shone a negative light on relationships where one person has Asperger's that suddenly things changed. He grew cold and distant and for a short time I was afraid that we might not survive this diagnosis. He saw a future where my condition would drive us apart.
Luckily my husband looked past this. We are now happy as can be and I thank the world for his love and support every day. He is a rare gem. But that misinformation that was out there, that information that offered no hope and only a dark future, could have cost me my soul mate.
And that is the type of information that lurks out in the real world. Information that is accurate but tainted by another's poor experiences or opinions. The internet has no regulation, that is why I can write this blog and publish it, and unfortunately if you are not guarded enough then this information will lead you down an incorrect track.
Not all people in this world are gifted with the ability to filter this information. This is what leads to judgement. I have been told that I personally am a delight to talk too because I have a vast general knowledge, a dry sense of humour and wit, as well as an animated and engaging way of delivering content. Yet if you knew I had Asperger's Syndrome, could you look past the oddities? Could you look past the bluntness, the truth that is told in that converstation? How about the social faux pas and perhaps rude gestures that are sprinkled in?
If you can get past that, you will probably find a friend for life.
Yet I have a label. I am not that label. Yet I will be judged by that label.
What does it mean to have the label placed on you? To be labelled with a mental illness?
While it might seem easy for one looking in to say "but if you know what it is then you can get help and people will understand" that is often far from the truth.
What do you think of when you think of autism? I would bet heavily it is not a fully functioning person who goes to work every day and has a loving family waiting at home for them. I would be you would think of the more classic definition of a person who cannot communicate, control their body or understand the world around them. You would consider them invalid for all intensive purposes.
Asperger's syndrome is a form of autism. A mild form so to speak. It is found on the autism spectrum, much like learning disorders like dyslexia and other disorders like ADD or ADHD. Think again. Would you label someone as mentally unstable or mentally challenged if they had dyslexia for instance? Unlikely. I'm guessing you would accept they have a problem and work with it. You would not view them as unstable or crazy.
Yet this is the world we face. We would like to think we live in an ideal world where we can walk around screaming at the top of our lungs "I have Asperger's Syndrome! I am depressed! I have severe anxiety!" The real world is often not that kind. It is just like we would like to pretend that racism, sexism, homophobia and so on does not exist. It does. It will always exist. No matter your skin colour, sexual preference, gender, age, height, weight etc there is at least one point in your life where you will be discriminated because of this characteristic.
However unlike the examples given previously, mental disorders can be hidden. There is little a practised veteran of society will show outwardly to the average Joe of their condition. We long term suffers get pretty good at this. Only our loved ones might know something is really wrong because of the subtle changes in behaviour.
Perhaps it is good that we long term suffers can hide these conditions. We appear strong to the world. Yet often we are more like spider silk in a storm. There is strength but all it takes is the right rain drop to destroy that fragile mentality we hold onto. And if we were judged by our condition, which is not who we are but a label created to describe us to others, then we would suffer at the hands of others endless.
When my husband first learned of my diagnosis with Asperger's, he was at first accepting. He just figured that everything would be alight and we would continue on. I encouraged him to read on the subject. I wanted him to be educated. I wanted him to know what he faced.
At first he shrugged it off saying he already knew what he was in for. But it wasn't until he read a poorly written article that shone a negative light on relationships where one person has Asperger's that suddenly things changed. He grew cold and distant and for a short time I was afraid that we might not survive this diagnosis. He saw a future where my condition would drive us apart.
Luckily my husband looked past this. We are now happy as can be and I thank the world for his love and support every day. He is a rare gem. But that misinformation that was out there, that information that offered no hope and only a dark future, could have cost me my soul mate.
And that is the type of information that lurks out in the real world. Information that is accurate but tainted by another's poor experiences or opinions. The internet has no regulation, that is why I can write this blog and publish it, and unfortunately if you are not guarded enough then this information will lead you down an incorrect track.
Not all people in this world are gifted with the ability to filter this information. This is what leads to judgement. I have been told that I personally am a delight to talk too because I have a vast general knowledge, a dry sense of humour and wit, as well as an animated and engaging way of delivering content. Yet if you knew I had Asperger's Syndrome, could you look past the oddities? Could you look past the bluntness, the truth that is told in that converstation? How about the social faux pas and perhaps rude gestures that are sprinkled in?
If you can get past that, you will probably find a friend for life.
Tuesday 22 May 2012
The Demons We Angels Must Face
Is it strength that gets me out of bed each morning or stupidity? Many would long ago have conceded the war and given up but somehow I rise from my slumber and rely on my careful routines I have in place to guide me through my day.
If not for those routines which are so hard to break, I with I would be dead. That which is me would have ceased to be long ago.
Maybe I have ceased to exist and all that is left is an automaton, a ghost moving through this world, for I do not feel or take pleasure in its presence. It has turned grey and distant, a surreal haze I pass through as I pretend to be a full functioning person.
A line exists from my feet, a line I must follow. It is a line of deception, a way to hide the darkness, the depths of this violent ocean that threaten to crush me into the ground. It presses against me and the bright line is all that exists in a void of madness and demons.
This line holds no comfort for it represents not hope but hopelessness. There is no hope that I will find a way out and that only the ocean will grow heavier as I sink further into its cold emptiness.
Yet it is not empty. The demons laugh at the struggle. Each foot forward is a war won, or perhaps lost for the line drags at my feet with such force that I must step forward. One foot then another. One foot then another.
Long ago I lost the ability to choose. Now the line is all that exists. It is my comfort and my curse. It has decided my fate. Darkness waits.
There is only one choice now.
There is only one end.
The last choice is mine to make. Always mine to make.
When the end is reached well that is always my decision.
Do I have the strength to go on? To carry this weight upon weakening shoulders? The weight is crushing.
The line grows dim and in the growing darkness the demons laugh.
The know they have won.
A piece written in one of my darkest moments. Depression is a word so many have heard but so few understand. Above is a glimpse into the world of someone who is severely depressed.
Depression is not the feeling of being down or sad. Depression is so much more than that. To define depression as feeling sad would be like calling an elephant a chair. They are two different things. I can be sad that my cat died but depression is an illness that grips you in two hands and can cripple you.
The purpose of this blog is to focus on mental health issues such as anxiety and depression. I suffer from both due to a condition called Asperger's syndrome. This is also combined with hypothyroidism. These two conditions mean that depression and anxiety will forever be part of my life and no magic pill will vanish them in an instant. There is no cure so to speak for either of these conditions.
I hope that through blogging about my own experiences I will be able to educate and perhaps reach out to others who suffer in silence. Mental health can be so well hidden it would difficult to identify everyone who had it.
My thoughts for this post are this:
Tomorrow, after reading this post, I would like you to go out into the world and look around and think to yourself "some of these people suffer in silence. How many could it be?" I don't know the answer but I could guarantee you it would be more than you think.
If not for those routines which are so hard to break, I with I would be dead. That which is me would have ceased to be long ago.
Maybe I have ceased to exist and all that is left is an automaton, a ghost moving through this world, for I do not feel or take pleasure in its presence. It has turned grey and distant, a surreal haze I pass through as I pretend to be a full functioning person.
A line exists from my feet, a line I must follow. It is a line of deception, a way to hide the darkness, the depths of this violent ocean that threaten to crush me into the ground. It presses against me and the bright line is all that exists in a void of madness and demons.
This line holds no comfort for it represents not hope but hopelessness. There is no hope that I will find a way out and that only the ocean will grow heavier as I sink further into its cold emptiness.
Yet it is not empty. The demons laugh at the struggle. Each foot forward is a war won, or perhaps lost for the line drags at my feet with such force that I must step forward. One foot then another. One foot then another.
Long ago I lost the ability to choose. Now the line is all that exists. It is my comfort and my curse. It has decided my fate. Darkness waits.
There is only one choice now.
There is only one end.
The last choice is mine to make. Always mine to make.
When the end is reached well that is always my decision.
Do I have the strength to go on? To carry this weight upon weakening shoulders? The weight is crushing.
The line grows dim and in the growing darkness the demons laugh.
The know they have won.
A piece written in one of my darkest moments. Depression is a word so many have heard but so few understand. Above is a glimpse into the world of someone who is severely depressed.
Depression is not the feeling of being down or sad. Depression is so much more than that. To define depression as feeling sad would be like calling an elephant a chair. They are two different things. I can be sad that my cat died but depression is an illness that grips you in two hands and can cripple you.
The purpose of this blog is to focus on mental health issues such as anxiety and depression. I suffer from both due to a condition called Asperger's syndrome. This is also combined with hypothyroidism. These two conditions mean that depression and anxiety will forever be part of my life and no magic pill will vanish them in an instant. There is no cure so to speak for either of these conditions.
I hope that through blogging about my own experiences I will be able to educate and perhaps reach out to others who suffer in silence. Mental health can be so well hidden it would difficult to identify everyone who had it.
My thoughts for this post are this:
Tomorrow, after reading this post, I would like you to go out into the world and look around and think to yourself "some of these people suffer in silence. How many could it be?" I don't know the answer but I could guarantee you it would be more than you think.
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