I really do hate going on about my own personal difficulties (as much as I tend to do so anyway), but the purpose of this blog is to allow others out there to come to a better understanding of who and what I am by being exposed to those spontaneous and unique traits of mine that they otherwise might not be. I feel that in order for this purpose to be fulfilled, I need to be very honest about some of the things going on in my life that others cannot readily see. It is both a blessing and a curse, but I have the very well developed ability to hide my feelings and emotions from view until I am safely at home and out of sight of the general public. This means that I don't break down when things get difficult or stressful - that is, I don't break down immediately. I excuse myself, go home and THEN I break down. In the mean time, everything is locked safely inside so I do not end up making a scene, disturbing others and embarrassing myself. Taking into account that I do have Aspergers Syndrome, as well as the fact that many of the other individuals I have met with the same and other related conditions have no qualms about throwing a childish fit in public, one would not be wrong to see this as a good thing. I agree with them insofar as that is concerned. It is very inconvenient, however, because it means that I give no clear and present indication of any inner turmoil, even when it is of such severity that it is slowly eating away at my very soul. The only ones that ever see my distress are those that I am the closest to. Namely, my mother and father.
Bear in mind that I am in Austin specifically because there is a program here dedicated to aiding those of us with Aspergers Syndrome in learning how to cope in normal society, particularly in college, and become successful, independent and productive members of society. The men and women that run this branch of the program are trained professionals that understand exactly what I am going through and can help me. That is, if they had any idea that I was in distress. I have become so proficient at holding back the physical manifestations of my anxiety and irritations that we recently found out that the people at CLE had absolutely no idea that the problems that I had mentioned from time to time were anywhere as severe as they are, much to the annoyance of both myself and my mother.
The problem is that I do not feel comfortable putting myself in a vulnerable situation with people that I do not already have a well established relationship of a specific caliber. Never mind the fact that since I arrived here in July of 2011, CLE has been juggling around their staff and students on an almost continuous basis. (Not a good thing to be doing in a program for people who need structure and stability.) Never mind the fact that I'm already a very capable individual with just a few specific problems while the majority of the rest of the 50 or so students enrolled in the program are considerably less functional. Disregard the fact that my parents enrolled me in this program based on the promise of individualized support and structure, only to have me placed in a mold suited to the lowest common denominator and forced to prove my worth against that framework instead. But as much as I love to point out the flaws I've seen in this system (because that's what I do best: identify what could be better), I'm not actually here to complain about CLE. They just happen to be involved.
As I had started to say earlier, I don't know these people. I don't trust these people. Therefore, I cannot confide in these people. All misunderstanding aside, there is a fundamental disconnect that is only just now starting to be addressed. The thing is, this is a problem that extends well beyond this program and it's human-ness. This has been a constant battle I've been fighting for... Well, forever, as far as I am mortally concerned. The fact of the matter is that I lack something very specific in my life that literally makes it next to impossible for me to do much more than barely stay above the water as I have been doing. I could go on about the history of it all, and I very nearly did in this post, but it is a difficult, complex and convoluted story. It also took me nearly two hours to write out the brief version of it.
(As an aside, I'll probably end up posting it somewhere here at some point. The story I told is very important when it comes to really understanding the sheer depth of what I face.)
Just do me a favor and take my word for it. While every problem and difficulty I talk about may be of the same type as those that everyone else experiences, the effects that mine have on me are (and have been psychologically proven to be) very, very different. It is simply something that cannot be fully understood unless you either experience it yourself or devote your life to studying it by way of academia or by raising a child afflicted with my disorder. I take the time to emphasize this because all too often, people ask me to explain what Aspergers is like for me, then proceed to either try to empathize (and thereby marginalizing the severity and realness of the issues) or simply disregard the problems as products of me not trying hard enough because they cannot conceive how big of a deal it really is. To the former, I appreciate the gesture but would ask that you try to understand why I might find it annoying, and to the latter, as much as I try not to be, I am deeply insulted by your brazen ignorance and callousness. Especially those of you who allegedly specialize in the care of cognitively dysfunctional individuals of whatever degree. You should know better. Shame on you.
Anyway, now that I have gotten that minor tirade off my chest, let's get back to the purpose of this post. To make a long story short, the reason that I cannot seem to help myself is because I am completely alone on a very deep level, and I have been since the beginning. Things that I know with absolute certainty will help me feel better or be happier have almost no appeal to me anymore for the simple reason that I have been so exhausted trying to do things for my own benefit alone. To say it another way, that I have been trying to be happy by myself. To paraphrase my mother's comment from last night, I have spent so long trying to be happy without having the things that I need the most that I've simply burnt out. I know I could be somewhat happier or that life could be considerably better if I just did this or that, but what's the point?
It's a sad day when someone finds that they can no longer muster the will to help themselves. As I said before, I can keep my head above the water - just barely - but without some kind of a floatation aid, I can do no more. Without this one little thing, I just can't maintain the drive to do anything, even to just have fun, for very long. I've had a long time to think about what this missing piece of my life might be. I've actually known exactly what it is for a long time. The most frustrating part of it all is that what I lack is not something that can be bought or given. It is something that must be found and nurtured and developed over a period of time and in rather particular circumstances.
The thing that I lack is two-fold, really. You'll understand why in a moment. The thing that I long for the most is to be intimately close with someone. Furthermore, I long for friends who can understand me, where I'm coming from and what I am, and can give me the kind of support - the little things that would make a world of difference for me - that I so desperately need and so desperately wish that I could do the same for in return. Things like just spending time with me, being there when I'm depressed even though there's really nothing they can do or say to help, inviting me to whatever. Sadly, the person who can fill the first part is very likely to be the person who fills the second part, as well. I don't make friends easily and it takes a lot to become the type of friend that I've described. I don't expect it from the friends that I do have because I know that they have their own lives and issues and that I am a rather high-maintenance individual. To fill the hole in my life, you have to be able to really dedicate yourself to it, something that I realize the vast majority of the world cannot be expected to do.
(As an aside, this is not to say that I do not have any friends at all. On the contrary, I have many good friends here in Austin and have had several in the past, all of whom I love very much for everything they have done and continue to do for me. I truly appreciate you all and do not mean in any way to marginalize your many contributions to my life.)
Since I've moved here, I have come to the brink of total collapse on two occasions, the most recent of which was last night. Between the stress of my perceived incompetence, the stress of living with the particular afflicted soul that I am required to and the sheer emptiness and loneliness that I live in, things have been getting pretty rough. No need to be alarmed, though. I've gone through this all before and I'm still alive and treading water, so I know I'll get through this one too. I just figured that it might be good to let you all know at the very least through this medium, since I will never show any outward signs of it otherwise.
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