This is me.
Soon, I want to get a backpack and a walking stick and wander into the deep woods. Perhaps early Saturday morning. I want to spend hours just looking and thinking about the things I see and the things I think. I'm tired of society, and need a break.
I'll come back before the sun comes down, and fit in as best I can with the surrounding world. But I don't want to lose a part of myself in the effort.
I've always suspected that I have a mild form of Asperger's Syndrome (AS). Basically, it's characterized by those who have weak social or communication skills. It can gradate, meaning that some have a very severe form (more akin to autism) and others just have a dash, so to speak.
Most of the social and communication skills I've developed in my life have been quantified, not actually learned. Communication is easier, due to the fact that words are words, and sprung forth from the speaker to stand on their own. Watching movies and reading classic literature as a child gave me a splendid vocabulary, which I latched onto. (Most of those with AS have a extraordinary vocabulary for this reason.)
Social situations are harder. I can do it- I frequently have to- but it's not me. It's a guise learned from other social situations and by watching others. I basically play a part for the person I'm talking to. Maintaining the false layer of insulation is exhausting. But as a result, I've become an adept observer of others.
For example, in the class I'm currently in, I can guess with perhaps 90% accuracy the answer to the professor's "yes" or "no" questions, just from her body language and the nuance she places on the last syllable. It's slight, but it's there. But, unlike others, the instinct is not there- I must rationally listen for it and make a predictive hypothesis based on past situations. It's hard to explain.
My social situations are not usually a problem because either (a) my personality is such that I avoid social situations, or (b) my disorder has shaped my personality such that I have been led to avoid social situations. Sadly, my social threshold is so low that I receive all the social interaction- aside from my wife and our respective families- I would ever want from this blog. I'm a recluse, I guess you'd say. I don't hate people, but I also don't feel an undying need to connect with them. I understand that most people don't feel that way, and I understand the normal human desire to connect with other humans. I just, in large part, don't share that drive.
So that's me.
I'll come back before the sun comes down, and fit in as best I can with the surrounding world. But I don't want to lose a part of myself in the effort.
I've always suspected that I have a mild form of Asperger's Syndrome (AS). Basically, it's characterized by those who have weak social or communication skills. It can gradate, meaning that some have a very severe form (more akin to autism) and others just have a dash, so to speak.
Most of the social and communication skills I've developed in my life have been quantified, not actually learned. Communication is easier, due to the fact that words are words, and sprung forth from the speaker to stand on their own. Watching movies and reading classic literature as a child gave me a splendid vocabulary, which I latched onto. (Most of those with AS have a extraordinary vocabulary for this reason.)
Social situations are harder. I can do it- I frequently have to- but it's not me. It's a guise learned from other social situations and by watching others. I basically play a part for the person I'm talking to. Maintaining the false layer of insulation is exhausting. But as a result, I've become an adept observer of others.
For example, in the class I'm currently in, I can guess with perhaps 90% accuracy the answer to the professor's "yes" or "no" questions, just from her body language and the nuance she places on the last syllable. It's slight, but it's there. But, unlike others, the instinct is not there- I must rationally listen for it and make a predictive hypothesis based on past situations. It's hard to explain.
My social situations are not usually a problem because either (a) my personality is such that I avoid social situations, or (b) my disorder has shaped my personality such that I have been led to avoid social situations. Sadly, my social threshold is so low that I receive all the social interaction- aside from my wife and our respective families- I would ever want from this blog. I'm a recluse, I guess you'd say. I don't hate people, but I also don't feel an undying need to connect with them. I understand that most people don't feel that way, and I understand the normal human desire to connect with other humans. I just, in large part, don't share that drive.
So that's me.
posted by Yorick at 6:52 AM
3 Comments:
Part of the reclusive nature may be inherent introversion. I feel you on that one.
I haven't noticed any repetitive speech patterns - you speak well; or any sort of clumsy or odd way about your movements.
I never really was a social creature growing up (at least in large groups) and I feel very out of place and uncomfortable and unsure of how to act or what to do or say when I am around larger groups...so I don't know if we are similar in that regard or not.
I'm definitely an introvert.
However, several of the online tests I've taken (which, albeit, aren't terribly scientific) show that I tend to display mild Asperger symptoms.
Many with Asperger are fascinated by license plates; I instantly try to see how many words I can make using the same combination of words on a plate, almost to obsession.
Others rock or move their legs without knowing it; I usually find my leg rocks back and forth as I go to sleep.
Some have either old-fashioned values or extremely progressive ones; I tend to be very conservative in my outlook on the order of things and offended by the most nonsensical insensities. I'm drawn to the idea of nobility.
As far as speech patterns go, that's because I've trained myself to cope with it. My language is refined but hollow- I merely mimic what I've seen before. And my voice is flat and largely monotone.
90% of my symptoms are manageable- but in groups, they become exhausting to handle.
please take a cellphone with you if you do this. your dad might need your help this weekend and i might need your shoulder to cry on if something happened to your dad. please call home.
Post a Comment
<< Home