The Culture Shock of Traveling Abroad

Next month, I will be spending two weeks in the British Isles - as much of the United Kingdom and the Republic of Ireland as I can fit into that time, without going too crazy. So of course, I'm due for a major culture shock. The main reasons I am traveling to that part of Europe are pretty simple:

1. English is still the official language. I have a limited working knowledge of Spanish from my high school and college years, but nothing close to fluency. That's what happens when you don't have reason to use the language or expand the knowledge base of said language. So even if the dialects are different, I'll take that as a starting point.
2. Lindsay and I had talked about the trip since late 2011, but even since her passing I still wanted to take this trip myself. Now I have a second purpose abroad, and that is spreading some of her ashes in the Atlantic Ocean off of the Irish coast. She loved her time in that country.
3. There's some good frequent flyer miles to rack up, especially with the pending American Airlines merger with US Airways, the only airline I can use to fly between RDU and Philadelphia International anymore since Southwest ended the direct service between the two.

The big problem is going to be understanding the language of the locals. Knowing how I talk, I will likely have some issues with this translation. I'm so focused on things like the cars traveling on the opposite side of the highway versus the United States, and the use of the metric system (which I always preferred but never adopted myself). I know that when I went to Vancouver, Canada two summers ago, I had a moment where I was trying to approach a bus driver about a pass, and used the proper currency names. He looked real confused but was friendly and let me on for free. That's minor, but I think you know what I'm getting at.

I'm overthinking, as usual, about names like fish and chips and what the street signs will say by the time I reach Ireland. I'll be staying with my cousin outside of Birmingham for a good chunk of the trip, but otherwise I'm going the private room route for the majority of the trip (meaning many reservations via airbnb). After my first two days in London, I think I will be used to the travel schedule and will feel better about the whole trip. Maybe it will take me that brief time to understand where I am. It's something that scares me, as aspies are prone to ridiculous moments of being out of the element.

Get ready for the follow up when I make my return.

About a Desire (aka "Task Complete, Now What?")

In the middle of February, I did something major and submitted my MBA application to North Carolina State University and the Jenkins Professional MBA program. Okay, I actually have to re-submit a part of it, as it turns out, but otherwise I'm going to interview with them this April. When I get a task done and check it off my task list, I get a brief feeling of accomplishment, but then I wonder to myself what the next step will be. I stall for a while and then finally move on to my next goal. That goes back to the Aspie attention span, and how I realized I needed to try a new gimmick to step around it.

In Nick Hornby's About a Boy, main protagonist Will Freeman decides to divide his leisure time into 30-minute segments, whether it is watching television, shopping, buying records, or even casually dating. Granted, all his time is free time, allowing him to make these activities segmented. In my case, I have been absolutely swamped at work like most of the population, so my brain needs a rest for a little bit after. For my own free time after I finish work, I began experimenting with segments on certain nights. I've been traveling on business As I've mentioned in the past, I am no different than most other spectrum peeps when it comes to time management, which means it's severely lacking. So maybe using the segments will help me figure out the best ways to spend my time.

• Professional Development: I am studying for MCSA certification in SQL Server 2012, which means three exams. I've been reading up for the first exam, which has been a breeze since it concerns querying. I've been covering 1-2 chapters weekly, using the allotted times that the books require as my segments on those nights. I sometimes go through moments where I ask myself what I have done with my life, despite my recent role expansion and advancement at my current gig. I do have a few nice things to my name, but I can't settle. I did well in school because they gave me knowledge and formulas to repeat, and I could learn once I was provided with a direction. However, practicing myself has been hard enough. The slack room is waiting for the first exam scheduling, because I base it on how I learn.
• Music: Last week I used a 30-minute block to tune my guitar for the first time since November. I rarely get to play it because I'm not all that good at chord transitions. I may think about revisiting it one day, though, just for fun. I also want to get back into music reviews at RYM, where all I've done over the last year is catalog and occasionally comment on a message board. However, my most frequent blocks, that could last an hour or so, are those for the C3VO project, which has also been long delayed. I give that an hour because I go on creative streaks and don't want to force myself. That might have been my problem last year, as I had ideas for track lengths more so than what was behind them. My beats are complimented for their style.
  

• Travel: I spend some 30-minute blocks prepping for my Europe excursion at the start of May. I have two weeks to travel the British Isles (England, Scotland, Ireland, etc), and I hardly know anything about traveling across the ocean. There's a big learning curve for six weeks. So even though I have booked most of my travel, I still have to plan where I want to see.
• Fitness: This is usually 75 minutes for the whole gym trip, from changing to workout and back. Unless, of course, I use the kettlebell or do the home boot camp, where it's much less time.

Of course, among the segments are periods where he looks for temporary female companionship, so that leads me to the final one. This should be a separate entry, but I've decided to tie it to this list.

• Dating: I hate feelings. It's a confession of emotional attachment that can't be controlled easily. I like to think every aspie has claimed this at least once in their lives. I re-entered dating coming from a dark place, and it's been a secondary priority to me versus my career goals. Essentially, it's an area where I had no goals and I'm still not sure of them four months after I got back into it. If you date someone you meet, whether online, through friends, at a bar, or in line at Schoolkids Records, there's a chance that one or both of you will feel greater affection the longer you keep it up; not to the point of "I love you so much so hard let's get married now" but just that you do the little things better because you see a potential spark. So that's really now in there to throw off my schedule. However, it was worth a 15-30 minute block to browse OkCupid or respond to messages. Maybe I'll be able to embrace these feelings one day, without being so scared to have them and the concept of another relationship becoming akin to Kanye's verse in "Lost in the World."
  

I can see how using a list goes, but how I break that out is my own business, of course! I will see how well this works when I try it certain days, and don't overthink the spontaneity part of life.

Defining the "Competition of Suffering"

A statement from GRASP executive director Michael John Carley concerning the trials of the last few months, from the ties of Sandy Hook to the DSM-5 engulfing Asperger's into autism (which I haven't spoken on for many reasons).  It's long, but there's a point made about considering autism a fad where people are supposed to feel sorry for our collective. I think a good question to be asked here is the same question we ask and never answer, which is why certain autism spectrum disorders are considered "suffering." Here's what sticks out:

We’re still hearing about ongoing consequences of the inaccurate descriptions of AS. Students with AS walking into their schools and hearing their teachers warn the other kids that "Joey has what Adam Lanza had, so be careful," or adults with AS being treated very differently at their workplaces immediately after the shootings.

And now we’re getting articles like [Amy S.F. ] Lutz’s, a mom who states strongly that “these children will never write one blog or produce one video” therein sacrificing possibility in the name of probability (always an ethical mistake, and she’s bound to be proven wrong by some of them). Lutz goes on to question whether or not autistic advocate, Amanda Baggs, actually has autism, or is faking it. Jim Sinclair, like Baggs, has been through this before; and while I certainly can’t guarantee their diagnosis or lack thereof either way, what I can guarantee is that if Lutz is wrong (and she goes nowhere near proving her case), I certainly have a sense of how awful she will have made Baggs feel.

Lutz also quotes my old negotiating partner (when she was at Autism Speaks), Alison Tepper-Singer, now the head of the Autism Science Foundation, as saying: "There are more studies focused on higher-functioning adults and the services they need, such as finding employment. But because we’re re-allocating the money, not increasing the budget, that means shifting funds away from the needs of lower-functioning children." Whether right or wrong (and a close friend high up in the research chain assures me its wrong), why, as the head of an autism organization (capable of good) would someone say that?

Especially because unlike the Competition of Suffering from the mid-2000s, this one is one-sided.

Not to re-hash to the politics lecture at Columbia, but the leaders of autism/AS organizations have so little feelings of collective responsibility when compared to other non-profit fields. All sides have members that are overwhelmed, and when we are overwhelmed, we don’t say wise or constructive things, and that’s blameless human nature. But too often in our world, our hurting memberships are pandered to by supposed leaders; not led [my bold]. Gasoline, rather than perspective, is poured on the fires of either the angry, bullied, unemployed and lonely person on the spectrum; or the families with non-verbal children who don’t have the means, the money, or the energy to fight for the services they’re entitled to, nor the services the should be entitled to but legally aren't  Giving voice to the overwhelmed is like interviewing someone caught in a fire at a time in which they don’t know whether or not they’ll get out of the burning house, as opposed to interviewing them a week after they've safely escaped the fire.

Yet that’s the way it’s always been in our world. At times, great forces of shame have successfully silenced the more dysfunctional voices; but most of the time they have sadly run free, without any shred of accountability. Other non-profit arenas such as homelessness or child welfare also started with little accountability, as people had to learn by trial and error what statements went too far, and what statements were constructive in the cause of social good. The autism/AS field is young by comparison, but our trial and error period is compounded by the opportunities provided by so much media attention—coverage that we all paradoxically benefit from.

Can Autism Be Prevented?

Posting an article like this one makes me want to start a Twitter feed.

The reliable Emily Willingham has a great take-down of a piece on Fox News asking if autism can be prevented. I really can't give a full editorial on this, as she words this much better than I ever could. Essentially the main source, Robert Melillo, is on a PR campaign to promote brain balance, so it's a rather convenient argument for him. I know more than a few of us take issue with Fox News on their politics, but even on news like this, it's ridiculous.

Most of the “measures” remain hidden in the pages of this book–which you can purchase!–but the one the article cites? Prenatal vitamins. Raise your hand if you took prenatal horsepills before, during, and after pregnancy and still had a child with autism. Melillo seems to be referencing this paper but misinterpreting the odds ratio data. The authors note the limitations of their study here in the full text of the article, which included that it relied on maternal recall of vitamin intake around pregnancy, several years after the pregnancy. They also did not collect information on diet. So, sure, take your prenatal vitamin, but don’t do it because you think it’ll prevent autism.

I'll have a bigger blog keeper on the way this week about a big step towards a big accomplishment, and juggling tasks in light of this.

Autism in Pop Culture, and the Cross-Section with Nerds

I have previously talked about Sheldon Cooper, Abed Nadir, and Tommy Westphall on this blog. They are all fictional television characters who may be on the spectrum and have a share of traits of those on the spectrum.  Well, there was an amazing piece in The AV Club this past week concerning the spectrum in pop culture, even if only so many characters are "out," to use that term.  Noel Murray is really talking about both "nerds" and autistics/Aspies, and how they aren't always interchangeable.

After some clarification, Murray explains what bothers him about the way autistic people are often lampooned like nerds:

[W]hat bothers me is the hoariness of jokes about bespectacled weirdoes who know the details of every Doctor Who episode but will never know the touch of a woman. First of all, they’re about as cutting-edge as jokes about airline food. Second of all: Did you know that many autists find it uncomfortable to look other people in the eye, or to be hugged? So what’s the joke here exactly? That two recognized traits of people with autistic spectrum disorders—obsessive interests and difficulties with social interactions—are a thing that exists?.

I tend to feel the same way, as not all nerds are autistic.  There are some common grounds, not like an exact Venn diagram but certainly similar.  It's a complex discussion, as I often related to the nerds with the stereotypical opposite-sex issues and factoids wading around the cranium.  However, we're not the same as most nerds or geeks either.  Geeks, for instance, are not that socially awkward, just immensely engrossed in a certain subject or four.  Nerds are geeks with the level of awkwardness added in, which makes a dork.  Yes, I "studied" those definitions.

He brings up five fictional characters, some from shows I had not seen until now.

• Sheldon, of course, who Murray has the most to comment about. He is correct that The Big Bang Theory has "very carefully avoided labeling Sheldon as having an ASD, because they've said they don’t want to be limited by what an autistic person would or wouldn't do."  I am a fan, but the show is divisive because it follows a pretty simple sitcom formula, dropping in references for the sake of references as well.  I could have a whole discussion on what that show accomplishes for nerdism, but that's not the blog subject. As I have said before, I can identify with Sheldon in some aspects, but many times he is over-the-top, albeit intentionally.  While I worry about a character like him enforcing bad stereotypes of AS (lately he has played an antagonistic role in some episodes), Jim Parsons plays the role masterfully, which explains why the character is so popular.  There's an innocence behind Sheldon's more irritating characteristics, and I often find myself sympathetic to his cause/plight...some days I want to be a supervillain anyway ;-)
• Abed, the authentic pop-culture geek.  I also am a fan of Community, making Thursday night viewing a conflict for years.  He is positioned as the emotional center of the show, even though it's an ensemble cast.  Abed has really helped the impression of the AS character through his own innocence, and his bromance with jock and not-so-secret geek Troy Barnes.  Abed is lovable due to his own innocence, and the fact that his interests run parallel to mine make me identify with him often.
• Brick Heck from The Middle, the young kid.  I haven't really watched this sitcom, but when I checked out some clips, I also see that Brick has many of the autistic tendencies.  This is especially true of his inability to be touched.  He did remind me a lot of me when I was eleven, but I didn't intentionally isolate myself from everyone during this time. I would do that when I was in high school.  I'm also unable to whisper.
• Max Braveman from Parenthood, also a kid in a family, but part of a drama.  He is an open autistic, with the story revolving more around the parents working with him, with amazement and frustration and other emotions in between.  We get some development from Max, apparently, but the focus is more on how the parents react and get used to the situation.  It's about adaptation.
• Gary Bell from Alphas, the science fiction show starring David Strathairn (reason enough for me to check it out).  No, Strathairn doesn't play Gary; an English actor named Ryan Cartwright does.  He is diagnosed high-functioning ASD, like I was, and his idiosyncracies were similar to most (certain food aversions, OCD nature).  His power is that he's a transducer, practically a human antenna, picking up wavelengths using his mind.  It's a power that I could see myself having if I was blessed with a random superpower, even if it wasn't my power of choice.  Murray calls him "accurate in the autist's at-times-frustrating inability to control his own quirks while also allowing Gary to be amused and amusing on his own terms."

What Noel Murray brings to the forefront with his piece is that the stereotypes may certainly be enforced with some shows, but that good shows have brought humanity to each of these characters...the idea that pop culture has changed the perception of the autistic somewhat, even if most NT people still don't understand it.  The piece is worth reading in full.  As he concludes, his son on the spectrum gets "awed respect and genuine affection," and maybe the representations of them on television has helped.

Sandy Hook and the Spectrum Connection

In mid-December, a small town in Connecticut was rocked by a school shooting.  A true tragedy for the nation, and it's hard to fathom what those families directly involved went through.  I really don't know what words I can use to reflect on the events of that December 14 day in Newtown.  I then heard the news that the shooter may have had Asperger's, so obviously there was an outrage that followed.  I was tempted to blog on this, but decided to hold my tongue.  Days later, I found that there were a ton of link that talked about this already, and most of these said what I was looking to say.  So here are some links, which are worth reading in full.

The New York Times has a great editorial that exposed some of the news coverage for what it was, using the key terms of autism and mentioning it as an illness rather than a simple neurological developmental disorder.  The media reporting won't help distinguish what autism spectrum disorders truly are.  People will just hear the characteristics and not understand the difference.  Thankfully the public editor came through to explain that clarifications were added a week later:

If there were solid sourcing last week of the Asperger’s diagnosis, the issue of its relevance could have been handled in a clarifying follow-up sentence — for example: “Autism and Asperger’s are developmental disorders, not mental illnesses; and there is no connection between them and violent behavior.”

Mr. Halbfinger protested when I suggested the idea of such an explanation, particularly in a first-day story. “To me, it seems kind of ridiculous; that’s the journalistic equivalent of a nanny state,” he said. He added, though, that as a parent himself, he does understand how parents feel about this subject. And he sees that there may be a “knowledge deficit” – people may not know very much about autism and Asperger’s.

Too often a lack of empathy was credited as a reason why there was a connection, but it really doesn't make much of a difference.  A piece in Slate distinguishes cognitive empathy from emotional empathy, and how many of us have the latter.  I would totally vouch for this one, because recognition of emotions (i.e. reading people) is my problem, but when emotion is manifested in a person, I can them internalize these feelings and can at least share it to a partial degree.  Most psychopaths are the reverse.  The writer relates with her own son:

My 11-year-old son is diagnosed with Asperger's, soon to be simply "autism," thanks to impending changes in the DSM-5. He is a rowdy giant of an 11-year-old who loves tumbling play with his brothers, but his spirit couldn't be more gentle. When he finds a spider in the house, he carefully gathers it in a tissue and places it outside, alive. He can't bear to watch people crack tree nuts, like pecans, because being something of a tree nut himself, he feels pain on behalf of the nuts. He is so attuned to all of my nonverbal communication that he will recognize and respond to a fluctuation in my mood faster than anyone else in our house, including my husband.

He knows about the Dec. 14 shootings in Connecticut. When he learned about them, his first response was to turn away in the chair where he was sitting, drooping his head over the back. He stayed that way for many long minutes, quiet and still. When he turned around again, my child who rarely, rarely cries had tears in his eyes. And then, his first urgent concern: that we break from homeschooling and go get his brother, our youngest son and in first grade, from school ... now. And as we drove to the school to pick up his brother, whom I badly wanted to see and hug and hear, my oldest, autistic son voiced what I'd already decided: "Let's not tell him what happened. That's not something he needs to know. It would make him too anxious and scared." Perspective-taking and empathy, you see.

Many parents have been pushing back at this suggestion as well, drawing from their own experiences. Even the EVP with Autism Speaks came forward with this summary statement: "By definition, people with autism are not inclined to commit acts of violence...[i]t’s really important to note that having an autism diagnosis doesn't make you the type of person to commit this type of crime."  Another point made here by an Aspie who is only 15: "If you meet somebody with Asperger's, you've met only one person with Asperger's."

I am, of course, a person with Asperger's, maybe high-functioning autism (at least the DSM-5 will define me that way).  I don't want to dignify the killer or let his name linger in any way, but there is something that allows the story to resonate with our community, whether it is for the purpose of defense or making a connection. Just as we know of people with antisocial personality disorder, most of them are not violent, or at least learn ways in which to control their impulses. They may be a politician, a lawyer, an artist, a Fortune 500 CEO, or a janitor. Same can be said for individuals with Asperger's Syndrome. However, when you have an individual who has difficulty reading social cues, relating to others, and empathizing, all the while combining it with violent impulses (among other important risk factors such as traumatic history, early attachment issues, limit resources and social support) it can really become a horrific situation for that individual and those who care about him or her. We all want to make sense of tragedies, and have an almost existential need for a motive. Here, it's not autism. We don't even know if it was ever diagnosed at this point. As is the case with the dialogue about gun control, we need to honestly examine all of the underlying causes with sincerity and tact. Only then can we begin to understand and hopefully prevent the horror from happening again.  

Random Links (or, Buzzfeed: The Truest Distraction)

I break from posts related to spectrum life to bring you a series of links that amuse me, which I doubt are limited to people on the spectrum.

First, dap denied...the 21 most notable unrequited high-fives in modern basketball history.

Now, a moment of hathos from Bill O'Reilly:

Then this just made me laugh, as someone who is a fan of The Wire and once liked professional wrestling.

Taking It All Too Hard

Over two months have passed.  I feel a little different than I did, as it appears I hit that stage of acceptance a month ago.  I haven't posted much about her as I've been keeping myself rather busy.  The other day, however, I did see a post from a mutual friend of ours on Facebook referencing her, which was the third in a week that I could count.

I can sense that a number of people are still hit really hard with Lindsay gone.  I won't deny that I'm still feeling it.  However, when seeing the amount of messages, I asked myself if I was not taking it hard enough, or maybe others were taking it too hard.  Truth is, we won't all be hit equally because we deal with it differently.  I don't bother explaining how much I miss someone beyond events that are triggered in my mind.

People on the autism spectrum were not my best guideline for the steps on how to cope.  While many of us went through extended denial phases, not everyone has done what I done.  In some cases there has been the obsession, which I haven't gone through.  Otherwise we either hole up or indeed distract ourselves with activity.  My activity keeps me from the obsession, or at least I feel that way.  I couldn't bring myself to write about Lindsay because I got caught up in helping myself get on a good life path, or at least to pave an altered direction for when I figure out where the new point B is located.  I still don't know what words can do justice, as I have been worried about my personal growth while sometimes talking aloud to her as if she can hear me, sometimes using it to either rationalize or question my decisions.

Sure, the title of this entry is named after a Genesis song that came out during the mediocre pop dinosaur period, but it was easy enough to relate to, even if the song is about a breakup and not a death.  One line of the song is "but I still miss you; I keep it to myself." That's what I have been doing rather subconsciously.  I've figured out that my way of coping has been pouring myself into all my future goals that we talked about since before the summer.  Here's what I did in October:

1. I finally joined a gym, and one of the nicest in the area.  I signed up for a trial of Boot Camp at my gym as well, which I'm not continuing because it costs way too much on a monthly basis.
2. I made a decision with my MBA to focus solely on applying to North Carolina State, and not UNC.  I went to a Kenan-Flagler session, which was very informative, but I recongized that getting admitted would be a somewhat daunting task, and three years full time with the dual MBA/MSIS program is not practical.  Besides, State's Jenkins MBA is among the best 75 part-time programs in the nation; it's not too far of a drop-off.
3. I took my exam, and I started to study for the next go-round of the GMAT as well, hoping to get scholarships if I was to falter.  Turns out I may not be able to get too many scholarships as a part-time student, so it may not matter at this point.  I already spent $400 on GMAT training too before I realized where I was (or wasn't) applying to for my MBA studies.
4. I went back to attending professional association events for database users, including SQL Saturday in Charlotte, which furthered my decision to pursue MCSA certification.
5. I am now in talks with the national GRASP chapter concerning the start of a local chapter for the Triangle, which could start in a few months.
6. I began saying 'yes' to even more social events for a few weeks, going out on weekends and visiting friends much more than I ever did in Philly...or at least since college.  It's great knowing how many people are around to help.  I can't help but notice that tonight is only the second Friday or Saturday night since I returned from the Philadelphia service trip that I've stayed in, writing this blog entry.
7. I started to test the waters with dating.

Simply put, I furthered the groundwork for everything I have wanted to do, but I became stressed trying to do it all and began to retreat.  It hit me in conversation that I was pursuing everything as a subconscious reaction to Lindsay.  Not that these were bad things to do, but that I wasn't quite pacing myself properly since I was also concerned with filling in the gap.  That's how I cope...the vacuum is filled in by activity so that I can continue on with life and not lament.  I may not have another hard hit until I go to San Francisco to spread some of her ashes.  Then again, I may watch a video or play a song on repeat from my September mix and I will have a moment.

So I can learn to accept that we're all mourning the loss of Lindsay in our own particular ways, and I can always defend myself knowing how hard I feel like taking the loss each day.  It goes with the territory that comes with caring for a person deeply.  There's no way I'm going to be totally over this for a long time, but asking myself how hard the death will shake me at a certain time is just a part of the acceptance.  I can live with that.