Thoughts on things students ask me; an unofficial diagnosis

As it is probably known by readers of this blog (such as they are), I have a tattoo on my wrist. It's Arabic. It says "الحياة جميلة" and that translates to "Life is beautiful." This is an aspirational statement on my part. I acknowledge that life is not always beautiful, but I would like it to be and it's a good goal. It's good for me to keep in mind. The weird thing is that a surprising number of people, students/young people especially, ask me if it's my name. I don't know why anyone would tattoo themselves with their own name. In case you forget it? Preparing for traumatic brain injury and the possible amnesia that follows? Because your name is just so cool that you can think of no other words to eclipse its awesomeness? It's such a weird thing to ask. I really don't know why that's the go-to guess.

Students and children at circus also ask my age fairly often, which doesn't bother me. However, there seems to be a class of people who, when I state that I am in my mid 20s, follow up with "Why aren't you married?" or an equivalent (do you have a boyfriend? don't you want to get married?). If I say that I'm not married sometimes they'll even go on to say "but don't you want kids?" I think this may just be a cultural divide, usually when I get this question it's from people who weren't born in the US or whose parents weren't, but I somewhat resent the expectation that at 25 I should be married and making some babies already!

An unofficial diagnosis.
It was suggested to me that I have Asperger's syndrome by someone whose opinion I value and I decided to look into it. For the uninitiated, Asperger's syndrome is an autism spectrum disorder on the high functioning end of the spectrum. People with Asperger's (Aspies, as they seem to be affectionately called) experience distress and difficulty with socializing. They (we, I suppose) have strict routines and devotion to their own narrow interests. Most of the people diagnosed with this are men. The more intelligent you are, the less likely you are to be diagnosed. Apparently, most psychologists are not very good at spotting this unless they are experts in autism.

Here is a list of traits for women with Asperger's.

I read this and sort of freaked out because I have essentially all of these traits. So then I bought three books about it, obviously. I won't go into the specifics, but reading about Asperger's has made me almost 100% certain that I have it. I felt weird about it at first. Somewhat relieved, but also distressed. A number of friends reminded me that I am still the same person and I appreciate their support with this. In the last month or so, I've been letting this simmer in my brain and I'm comfortable enough to make it public (such as 6 people reading my blog can be public) on the internet.

I am somewhat on the fence about pursuing formal diagnosis. I'm pretty settled on this in my mind. Getting a diagnosis of Asperger's as an adult means finding a specialist. Inevitably, one's parents are interviewed, which is something I would like to avoid at this juncture (they're not really in the loop on this). Also, I'm worried taht with a diagnosis I might have trouble getting insurance because this would be counted as a pre-existing condition. 

I am feeling better about this now. As long-time readers may recall, I periodically feel like I'm going insane and I wonder what the hell is wrong with me and why I am not like other people. I feel that this explains it rather neatly. I am not a crazy person. I have Asperger's. I experience things differently. Knowing this helps me order things that have happened in my life and make some sense out of some of the bad parts. Some of the good parts also, I suppose. I feel like now I have a clearer idea of what makes me feel crazy and what I can do about it, which is really positive because I've never felt that way before.

My new hobby

Who knew coloring was so relaxing? This shit is downright therapeutic.

This is from my Mexican Folk Art coloring book and I did this over the course of watching about eight episodes of Warehouse 13. Not sure if it's going to help with anxiety in the long term, but it's definitely helping right now.

This Must Be the Place

I have recently come to the conclusion that whatever I do with my life, there is only the smallest probability that I will ever feel satisfied. No matter how cool my job is, no matter how smart and attractive my significant other is, no matter how many friends invite me to hang out on the weekend and no matter how many tricks I can do on my unicycle I am not certain that I am ever going to be content. This problem has been difficult to identify because throughout my life I have had many reasons to be discontented, to look forward to the next. But I think I have reached the point where I should be reasonably satisfied with what it is and not keep saying "but I'm going to be doing X soon," whenever someone asks me what I'm doing. I recently articulated this life plan to my dad, "Work this shit job for a couple years, unicycle for Cirque du Soleil, then get my Ph.D." When I think about it, I'm sure when I'm in the circus I'll be like "yeah, I'm a professional unicyclist, but I'm getting ready for my Phd." And I'll constantly complain that there are no intellectuals around. And then when I do my PhD I'll be like "This is boring as fuck compared to being in the circus."

The secondary problem is that recognizing a lack of satisfaction does not automatically make me satisfied. It just makes me realize that I have a fucking problem. I don't really know from where this problem stems. Maybe it's just that I can imagine doing so much awesome shit and I know I'll never be able to do it all/have it all at once? Maybe I need prescription medication for my brain and this is actually a symptom of a larger psychological issue? I have no fucking idea.

By rights, I should be reasonably happy right now. Even though I am living in my dad's house, I have a decent if boring job, the immediate prospect of a more decent, probably-still-as-boring job, circus all afternoon and books to read, etc. I have a social life like never before. But all I think about is how I could be teaching english abroad or getting graduate degrees or whatever. Actually, it's not that I'm unhappy, but life never quite reaches that level of awesomeness that I expect it to.

Brown Bear runs away

I feel like a bear waking up after hibernation.

Despite a lot of negative feelings and associations that I still harbor with Redlands, I am starting to look forward to the trip. In an effort to stay positive, I will list some things I am pleased about.

• Circus. Fuck yeah, circus! This is probably the best part; getting back to my roots, if you will. The last few months I'd been having dreams about circus. I really missed it. I'm planning to jump in on juggling, teeterboard and cradle.
• Not paying the bills. I've been in a cash flow frenzy since March, essentially. As some know, nothing I've tried has worked out. So my dad is taking me in and I will only have minimal bills to think about
• Not stressing about finding a job. This goes with not paying the bills, but there is also feeling like a professional failure.
• Reevaluation. I am going to rethink what I want to do. I am still really interested in translation and interpreting, but I may wait on it.
• Just living. I think I am going to get some 9-5 desk monkey job that pays the bills and that I don't hate, and just enjoy all that not-at-work time.
• No more retail. My last day is saturday. Finalllyyyyyyyy
  

She Likes Big Words and Playing Pretend

I've always considered myself to be fairly outgoing and affable. And, I suppose I am. However, these traits do not necessarily correlate with making/maintaining good friendships.

admission: I am socially inept

discussion: For whatever reason (my dad says it's because I'm too critical), I can't stand most people. People annoy me. I find myself thinking that I should spend time with people anyway. When I do, I usually am reminded why people annoy me. All you people who read this, I like you, please don't take offense. It just takes me a really long time to like anyone at all beyond the initial casual conversation part. Why don't I like people? My best guest is that I'm critical of others because I'm even more critical of myself. Thus, traits that I see in myself and then see in others are criticized. But, I feel like I criticize a lot of things I don't see in myself as well? Maybe I'm just lying about that. Perhaps I don't like people because it's difficult to trust people. People say things and then don't do those things, or are often just douches. Maybe it just seems like they're douches from misunderstandings. That takes us back to the point of me being too critical.

I've always felt that I should have a lot of friends and hang out with those friends. I have a lot of of friends who I like and I like to hang out with, but none of them live where I live. This exacerbates my problem. I make friends, friends either live elsewhere or I move. In fact, this pattern has existed for my whole life. In elementary school when I lived in Yucaipa, I remember being really close friends with this kid named Brian. We were cool. In 4th grade, we moved over to Redlands where in elementary school I sort of had a few friends but not really. I managed to finally have a few close friends by middle school, I suppose. But then of course I moved to england and fell out of touch with many of them (thanks to my incredible powers of not keeping in touch with people) and then I had to start over again my sophmore year. Obviously we can see this cycle repeated on a much faster scale in my college years. Perhaps the answer is then that it just takes me a long time to get into good friendships. On the scale of a year or two?

It wouldn't be so bad just being anti-social except that it creates this loop of me thinking I shouldn't be like this, and then when I try to go against it, I feel like anti-sociality is mostly better. Maybe I just haven't met people who like to hang out how i like to hang out. The way most college people socialize is by getting together and drinking. And for anyone who knows me, you know it's not my preferred method of being social. BYU is, of course, the exception; the main form of socialization there is any type of interaction that furthers the quest for a mate.

Even having just given a cursory examination to the circumstances that could have caused this, I feel like I didn't use to be anti social. I feel that way, but it must not be true because my step-mom always used to bother me about not playing with other kids enough or whatever thing. But then again, she might have just wanted me out of her presence. This mystery remains unsolved.

I spent a lot of time discussing this with my therapist in Oregon, and I thought we'd accomplished something, but maybe not. Either that or I forgot or needed affirmation about it but having not seen a therapist for 4 months, it hasn't been as affirmed as I'd liked. We generally put this subject in terms of feeling important or "good enough" to be conversational and make friends with other people. I don't find myself interesting. Sure, I juggle knives and ride a unicycle but the fact of the matter is, I go to school and work and eat breakfast and do boring crap just like everyone else. And then I turn to escapism. There's nothing interesting about that. Why would anyone even want to care? --

ah...the root of the problem. I knew I would find it if I kept writing. I find everyday activities and my participation in them to be very unexciting, disinteresting. Maybe it's from reading too much fantasy literature or watching too many cartoons as a child, but I think a lot of life is boring.

conclusion: But the thing is, that's what life IS! it's just the boring day to day stuff and what you make of it, and I think on some level I'm profoundly disappointed by that. Like there should be more. Or there is more and I'm just not doing it. Actually that's probably it. I hate feeling like I'm missing out on something interesting. When people call me and I can hear everyone really having a good time, I find that upsetting. I want to be doing something fun as well but I'm just at home reading a book probably. Maybe watching a movie. So why would this person want to talk to me when he or she has much more interesting things happening right there? I don't actually know what I'm going to (or can) do about this. Writing about it at least helps me consider the problem more fully though. Not being interesting is kind of a linked topic with "no one cares" for me, which is another feeling that I've always felt pretty strongly. This could stem from a billion different ideas, but I can most notably trace it back to the parents: my mom leaving, my dad repeatedly telling me during childhood and my adolesence that no one care about me except him (he did honestly say that. If you ask him, he'll admit it though not happily), and my step mom just obviously not giving a fuck about me. It's just really hard for me to trust that anyone does care, it takes a long time. And that's probably why I don't have friends or a social life. It takes a long time for anyone to prove that they care and by that time I've probably moved or found some reason to shut myself off again. Gods, I fucken fail.

edit: I just remembered, its the day before easter (well, easter now i guess). This day always goes terribly and i always have something bothering me. I don't know why, it's not like I do it on purpose.