I’ll explain that title later.
Change. It’s a simply thing really. Something we all have to go through. We face it so many times every day that we barely have to think about it. It just happens. But for some people it’s a constant torture on the mind. If you have a basic concept on autism you know people with it are very rigid thinking, keep to a very strict routine that if broken may have them wailing like a banshee, or in high functioning people, makes them react loudly and violently in tears or in threats or their body and mind just shuts down. And that was just when Syfy changed the time and day they showed Stargate SG-1.
Change is very serious concern for those with autism and indeed this person with autism. By now I could consider myself completely overcoming autism if it wasn’t for the fact that I can be paralyzed in fear by sudden change. I know how to have conversations with people. I can do small talk. I don’t always make eye contact and I can still interpret things in very literal ways and have an incredibly logical mind.
Now to explain that title. Change does feel like a nightmare coming true. For those scared of change it’s always on their mind; it has to be because it feels worse when they didn’t prepare for it. So, they learn to always plan in advance for any surprises. In this way emotional reactions can be controlled because they play out scenarios in their head and in the comfort of their sanctuaries (their house, somewhere they feel safe) they can work out the best way to react to a new situation.
Recently, I’ve had to deal with change mostly by force. I had to start work in Western Sydney. My disability job operator met up with me at a train station and took me to the facility. The next day I did it all by myself. It was scary but I adapted and now I think Western Sydney is better than my own area. It’s quieter at least.
After I was able to do this by myself I thought I should be able to go further. So, I’m planning a trip to Melbourne to see my favourite band Dallas Crane. I’ve got AAA passes for me and my sister so I know I’ll at least be able to go to the show if tickets sellout. But I’m still trembling inside. I hate airports because I’ve never been to one before. By now I know everything that I should expect to happen there because I’ve been preparing for it for years but I haven’t stepped foot in one yet.
A few years back my family went to Portland and I didn’t go because a few days before the flight I didn’t want to go, even purposely kept myself sick so I wouldn’t have to go. Most people blame my mum because she actually asked me if I would be able to cope, but the thing is my sister in Portland really had to go to every effort to make me feel ok about going in the first place, and anxiety creeps up on you. Even when you put a show of strength it’s always there and the smallest thing can trigger it. So, I don’t blame my mum. I thank my mum for being the only one who understood what I was going through. I wasn’t ready to fly to Portland. I didn’t want to anyway. Another thing people need to learn is autistic people aren’t usually interested in the same things as other people and they can’t feign it at all. At the time I didn’t like weddings. I didn’t like the fake sentiments that people would show at them. And BBC’s Sherlock agrees with me.
The second time I was meant to catch a plane was to see another favourite band of mine, The Ape. I was all excited until my sister told me all about going to the airport and catching the plane in an attempt to calm my nervous. It didn’t work. I felt so anxious that I could even hold my head up and then I went to lie down on the couch and shook for a little while. Then I couldn’t even get free tickets to the show and it was over.
This time I’m not exactly anxious about the airport or the flight, yet. I am anxious about plane tickets being bought. I’m anxious about having to go on my own. I’m anxious about not being able to go and letting the band down. I’m anxious about letting myself down. I could easily ditch the whole idea and feel better again, but I would feel like a failure. I would still have not overcome this obstacle. For many years I’ve been building up on my social and what is called life skills. This is the next step and I know there are people who do this all the time. But they’re not autistic. And for those who are either get or have had help to get them to that point. It’s bad enough I’m beating myself up for letting myself and other people down that I don’t have to feel depressed over the fact that this is such a simple thing for someone to do.
So change sucks. In fact, lately my eating routine has been completely thrown out of whack that I’ve lost my appetite but still have hypoglycemic crashes. When I’m hungry I feel sick but don’t even feel like eating. That’s something else I have to deal with on top of this. My head is in such a mess that I don’t even know how I can begin to start organizing it again.
My last panic attack was when I had to go back to the location where I was almost mugged which began my 4 year PTSD. It’s not as bad today, well, I thought it wasn’t til I went back. I started to panic, feel restless and agitated and wiped away my tears in the rain. So close to home but so far away. And I did beat myself up about being unable to do something so simple. But then a voice in my head reminded me I have PTSD. It’s why labels are so important to me. I feel like less of a failed adult because of all these diagnosis’s I have. For example my ADHD usually makes me feel stupid. I can barely remember anything. I can barely focus on anything. Sometimes something ignorant slips out of my mouth. Lately I’ve been beating myself up about my mood disorder. Bipolar maybe. I don’t know. Doctors don’t care enough to do the assessment. So I can’t get the meds. I don’t even want the meds. Medication is nasty stuff. I learned my lesson after taking Ritalin.
I suppose when I meet a new person that I really like I don’t want them to know about all my problems but I know in time they will eventually be seen. I guess that’s what I’m just concerned about. And the whole change thing. And the fact that I don’t even know when and how much to eat.
And now I’m depressed. Again.