So, like always, I'm typing this at 23:46 (Greenwich mean time, HELLO AMERICA!), and am clearly not smart enough to come up with a deep thoughtful post about the philosophical insights into having a brain that's been wired like a blind electrician with Parkinson's fuse box.
This might be a two part post, I don't know, but I'm hoping to stretch it out like pair of worn tight wights, mainly because I'm projecting a bit into the future (next month to be exact).
If you have been paying attention, and I'll forgive you if you haven't, what with this blogs complete reliability and regular posting, I have recently moved jobs. OK, not entirely, because I'm working my notice, but anyway there's a new job on the horizon. This has been met with mixed reactions from: "But the current job is great, how can you give up such a great thing!" to "Yes, new opportunities are worth moving for." Both of these are understandable for people who know how hard it can be for the disabled to hold a job (trust me, disability is NO OBSTACLE to employment, or even running ones own business), but also know that we need to grow and develop to find our true potential (and become masters of the universe or something, I never finished the Aspergers for beginners book).
Back after London (and I'm totally calling my tell all book that, after my Patreon takes off, hint hint), I had plenty of support to get into work. My own Aspie Nurse came into my then job and gave them some helpful pointers (or gave me a helpful pointer: run and don't look back), two Occupational therapists sat me down and gave me some advice (short shifts and good management) and always said they where contactable if required. Fortunately, my current job was hugely supportive and no further external support was required. I put huge store in understanding management and actually busting your own backside at being good and meeting people halfway and not talking for hours about toy soldiers.
Anyway, the new job had occupational health ring me (after I filled in another form, and tacked on another sheet cos those boxes are always too small) and they want to see me before I start so we can slide in support if required. This hugely endears me to both the job and the management because this shows they care and are willing to work with me. It also means that if they decide I need support, I can contact external support and swing "reasonable adjustments" into place.
And this is why it's a two part post, I have yet to meet the Occupational Health team. So will update.
yes, I know I've changed the Aspie spelling, frankly I don't care.
For sarcastic Tweets and articles check out Facebook and Twitter. I will figure out how to put these in a side bar soon enough.....
Sunday, 26 February 2017
Sunday, 19 February 2017
My obsession.
The most popular Aspie trait that gets showcased by TV and the recent Movie, The Accountant (which I will not be reviewing thanks, ) is that to make up for the social awkwardness, crippling inability to interact and occasional difficulty finding and keeping gainful employment, all Aspies have a specialised hobby or trait. This can either be something that makes the audience put their hands up and yell "quirky!" or it can be a hyper-analytical mind that can dissect any problem and find an out of the box solution. I guess it gives NT types a warm fuzzy feeling that even though these weird people walk among us, at least they have their uses for society or can be relatable as the one kid in class who thought the history of the penny from 1974 to 1982 was important.
Sadly, idiot savant and Aspie don't over lap as much as we'd all like. Many Aspies are just regular humans with a different brain make up. Ask any one legged dog if different equals better and they will tell you no, although most dogs don't care as long as there's kibble and bits and maybe a post man to bark at, I don't know, having never been a dog and only occasionally enjoying the company of dogs, and post men. This means that more often than not, social anxiety is not cancelled out by some great ability to count cards or meld with technology.
So, aside from trains (OK, not that deeply but come one, technology) and toy soldiers, what do I obsess about? Money. Or change more exactly, and what I can do with it (buy more toy soldiers!!). Or you know, put it into savings. It's watching my savings grow, in multiple accounts, and seeing how much I can get before the money needs to be spent. It's reached the level that its hard to release the money for stuff I need, like dental work (you're welcome)or buying a car. You know, stuff I might actually benefit from owning. So, when people say I am a contributing member of society, yeah, the building society.
This should then translate into a need to gain said money through any means necessary, right? (this is called foreshadowing kids, so NO ONE can complain when I start doing Patreon or putting ads on my blog). Well no, because money is nice but trade offs are required. Could I work a full month with no days off? Yes, but by the end of it "offensively aspie" is redundant. Could I be working in a job that pays £50K+ a year? Maybe, but I lack the imagination to know what kind of job makes that money or how to get into it (trading stocks, the hell?). Can I ask for it in job interview? Maybe, but there is nothing more off putting than someone in interview demanding money or a raise on the basic offer. Knowing how hard work is to gain for Aspies, I'm mindful that while I can change my lott in life, maybe accepting the things I can't change immediately is a good plan. You may have guessed I'm currently being interviewed for a new job and this topic has resurfaced while dealing with my new employers (I stay stum about money, it's nice to have, but not a factor in getting or keeping a job).
So, aside from trains (OK, not that deeply but come one, technology) and toy soldiers, what do I obsess about? Money. Or change more exactly, and what I can do with it (buy more toy soldiers!!). Or you know, put it into savings. It's watching my savings grow, in multiple accounts, and seeing how much I can get before the money needs to be spent. It's reached the level that its hard to release the money for stuff I need, like dental work (you're welcome)or buying a car. You know, stuff I might actually benefit from owning. So, when people say I am a contributing member of society, yeah, the building society.
This should then translate into a need to gain said money through any means necessary, right? (this is called foreshadowing kids, so NO ONE can complain when I start doing Patreon or putting ads on my blog). Well no, because money is nice but trade offs are required. Could I work a full month with no days off? Yes, but by the end of it "offensively aspie" is redundant. Could I be working in a job that pays £50K+ a year? Maybe, but I lack the imagination to know what kind of job makes that money or how to get into it (trading stocks, the hell?). Can I ask for it in job interview? Maybe, but there is nothing more off putting than someone in interview demanding money or a raise on the basic offer. Knowing how hard work is to gain for Aspies, I'm mindful that while I can change my lott in life, maybe accepting the things I can't change immediately is a good plan. You may have guessed I'm currently being interviewed for a new job and this topic has resurfaced while dealing with my new employers (I stay stum about money, it's nice to have, but not a factor in getting or keeping a job).
Sunday, 12 February 2017
textures
OK, so last week (also known as Tuesday, remind me not to have weekends out while feeling smug), the post was a little dark and unpleasant, and as funny as a dead badger in a birthday cake. In a change of pace, I think we'll go with something a bit odd, and unusual but at the same time mostly familiar, because we're all weird.
I am horribly adverse to smell, with a fairly sensitive sense of smell. Now, dad has this too, so I'm assuming its genetic, and I do enjoy it as my super power, because if my Aspy traits have yet to make me an idiot savant who can add complex numbers and know my 56th birthday is a Tuesday (I'm guessing here, but if I'm right BOOYA! guess we can ignore the rest of this sentence), then they have yet to manifest themselves.
I can tell a valeted room has had a smoker in it, I can whiff dinner down the road, and I cannot stay in Lush for long. I end up being the boyfriend stood out side (while my partner no doubt runs wild inside with a credit card selling our future to the devil for lavender scented bath bombs and never ending candles). Last time I went in voluntarily I spent exactly two minutes and found the first bath bomb that looked vaguely interesting, grabbed it, threw money at the general direction of the cash register and ran. It's not that I get overwhelmed, as such, but i begin to get the cloying smell up my nose and it causes me to feel nauseated. It's great. So I'd rather be outside, rather than queasy.
The same goes for texture. I prefer soft cotton, mostly in bedding. I can't stand cheap silk, or generally silk, texture bedding. My mother has pillow cases with faux fur strips and I need to flip it over and sleep on the clear side (there I said it, watch her stop reading), equally fur pillows put me off. I like my bedding and it better be 100% comfy and soft because I am the highest level of under cover agent and I swear to Zod if I need to be out of bed it better be work or food. And prehaps not even the second one.
I only mention all this, because Lord knows I'm not famous enough yet to have random people mail me bedding, because the other half went out and got silk bedding. Not Cheap silk bedding but still, I got back the dirty bedding out of the wash basket and wrapped myself in that, much to everyone Else's chagrin.
I'm also very keen on heavy bedding, sheets alone are for weirdos, although in hot summer nights even my love of being crushed into the mattress by massive blankets is beaten by the sweats. I actually don't know why, but i guess its a safety thing. I know some Aspies like being crushed to make them feel "normal". My skin isn't that sensitive, so nudity is fine, but I love the feeling of soft tight bedding.
Actually scratch that, I do have hyper sensitive skin when touched and dissolve into fits of giggles and shudders (shivers? I dunno, not a doctor) and often flinch before being touched. believing a lovers hand will be rough as sandpaper and heavy on me. One ex asked if I'd be beaten as a child. Apparently the answer that beatings continued until moral improved was "not funny" and "sick". Good for her.
Recently, I went to a job interview. Nothing fancy and I felt the sit down in a suit bit went fine, but showing me round the facilities put me off. They had a garish yellow and blue decor that made me feel deeply and weirdly uncomfortable. Nothing I could put my finger on, but even typing this makes my skin crawl. I just couldn't see myself working there, simply because the colours would make me feel off. So no new job, yet.........
Anyway, I'm off to bed, it's missing me already.....
Usual begging BS here: Facebook & Twitter
I am horribly adverse to smell, with a fairly sensitive sense of smell. Now, dad has this too, so I'm assuming its genetic, and I do enjoy it as my super power, because if my Aspy traits have yet to make me an idiot savant who can add complex numbers and know my 56th birthday is a Tuesday (I'm guessing here, but if I'm right BOOYA! guess we can ignore the rest of this sentence), then they have yet to manifest themselves.
I can tell a valeted room has had a smoker in it, I can whiff dinner down the road, and I cannot stay in Lush for long. I end up being the boyfriend stood out side (while my partner no doubt runs wild inside with a credit card selling our future to the devil for lavender scented bath bombs and never ending candles). Last time I went in voluntarily I spent exactly two minutes and found the first bath bomb that looked vaguely interesting, grabbed it, threw money at the general direction of the cash register and ran. It's not that I get overwhelmed, as such, but i begin to get the cloying smell up my nose and it causes me to feel nauseated. It's great. So I'd rather be outside, rather than queasy.
The same goes for texture. I prefer soft cotton, mostly in bedding. I can't stand cheap silk, or generally silk, texture bedding. My mother has pillow cases with faux fur strips and I need to flip it over and sleep on the clear side (there I said it, watch her stop reading), equally fur pillows put me off. I like my bedding and it better be 100% comfy and soft because I am the highest level of under cover agent and I swear to Zod if I need to be out of bed it better be work or food. And prehaps not even the second one.
I only mention all this, because Lord knows I'm not famous enough yet to have random people mail me bedding, because the other half went out and got silk bedding. Not Cheap silk bedding but still, I got back the dirty bedding out of the wash basket and wrapped myself in that, much to everyone Else's chagrin.
I'm also very keen on heavy bedding, sheets alone are for weirdos, although in hot summer nights even my love of being crushed into the mattress by massive blankets is beaten by the sweats. I actually don't know why, but i guess its a safety thing. I know some Aspies like being crushed to make them feel "normal". My skin isn't that sensitive, so nudity is fine, but I love the feeling of soft tight bedding.
Actually scratch that, I do have hyper sensitive skin when touched and dissolve into fits of giggles and shudders (shivers? I dunno, not a doctor) and often flinch before being touched. believing a lovers hand will be rough as sandpaper and heavy on me. One ex asked if I'd be beaten as a child. Apparently the answer that beatings continued until moral improved was "not funny" and "sick". Good for her.
Recently, I went to a job interview. Nothing fancy and I felt the sit down in a suit bit went fine, but showing me round the facilities put me off. They had a garish yellow and blue decor that made me feel deeply and weirdly uncomfortable. Nothing I could put my finger on, but even typing this makes my skin crawl. I just couldn't see myself working there, simply because the colours would make me feel off. So no new job, yet.........
Anyway, I'm off to bed, it's missing me already.....
Usual begging BS here: Facebook & Twitter
Tuesday, 7 February 2017
The Sociopath in Me
Quick note before I get into this topic, the blog will be changing as I go on, both in style, added whidges and content. If you follow my Twitter and Facebook (Plug, Plug), you'll already know that I wish to include more political posts as well as my own journey (there's only so much I can wax about my feet after all and on reflection I wouldn't be surprised if some people are thinking this is a foot fetish blog, and if there's one thing you never want is a fetish about MY feet). The reasons for more political posts are, you know, Trump and Brexit. I am a left leaning humanist, so if you don't like refugees and the EU and all that hippy consciousness then I suggest you skip these posts (I'll try to make to title obvious).
It is well documented that Aspergers and Sociopath are almost opposite in traits and have very little in common. However, this does not mean that parts don't over lap, or at least they don't in me. I have a well developed charm (it's the oIrish, I swear) and a fairly decent sense of humour. I only know these because I use them in work, or dating, or you know interacting with humanity. It's fairly clear from my blogging that I have no problem attracting girlfriends (the one I suggested I write the blog, the next one who distracted me from the blog and the current one, who's lost about the whole idea of blogging, three may not be a high score but I'm not studly macmuffin), but keeping them involves slightly more complex skills.
In my report, it states I can grasp the concept of a friend, but am unable to run the mechanics of friendship (you feed them and let them watch TV right?). The same, I at least believe, would apply to girlfriends (you feed them and let them mind your credit cards, right?). I'm like a toddler, I can be charming and sweet, but I'll lose interest once I have what I want, the precocious little scamp that I am. It has led at least one girlfriend call me a sociopath for being heartless and cold. It's not that I'm eaither of those, I just don't have the skills to build a relationship and do all those little things that make a relationship. Yeah, yeah typical man, insert woman not coming with a manual mysogonist joke here. Relationships take a whole load of little things, like friendship (so I'm told by numerous cutsey items in my local novelty gift shop), and it is doing those little things that I find hard without reminders, because that's not stereotypically male at all.
So, how does this superficial charm come in handy? Well, work. A bit of a charm offensives on customers does no harm at all but it also means that during inspections or any promotional work, the disabled worker can be trotted out and showcased as diversity in the workplace. My old manager used to joke that if I told everyone I was gay, it'd tick all the boxes and, I dunno, boost the company's image to the world, win us that all important award of the modern world: equal employment. It gets a solid laugh in the office, even if it is cheap humour.
It is well documented that Aspergers and Sociopath are almost opposite in traits and have very little in common. However, this does not mean that parts don't over lap, or at least they don't in me. I have a well developed charm (it's the oIrish, I swear) and a fairly decent sense of humour. I only know these because I use them in work, or dating, or you know interacting with humanity. It's fairly clear from my blogging that I have no problem attracting girlfriends (the one I suggested I write the blog, the next one who distracted me from the blog and the current one, who's lost about the whole idea of blogging, three may not be a high score but I'm not studly macmuffin), but keeping them involves slightly more complex skills.
In my report, it states I can grasp the concept of a friend, but am unable to run the mechanics of friendship (you feed them and let them watch TV right?). The same, I at least believe, would apply to girlfriends (you feed them and let them mind your credit cards, right?). I'm like a toddler, I can be charming and sweet, but I'll lose interest once I have what I want, the precocious little scamp that I am. It has led at least one girlfriend call me a sociopath for being heartless and cold. It's not that I'm eaither of those, I just don't have the skills to build a relationship and do all those little things that make a relationship. Yeah, yeah typical man, insert woman not coming with a manual mysogonist joke here. Relationships take a whole load of little things, like friendship (so I'm told by numerous cutsey items in my local novelty gift shop), and it is doing those little things that I find hard without reminders, because that's not stereotypically male at all.
So, how does this superficial charm come in handy? Well, work. A bit of a charm offensives on customers does no harm at all but it also means that during inspections or any promotional work, the disabled worker can be trotted out and showcased as diversity in the workplace. My old manager used to joke that if I told everyone I was gay, it'd tick all the boxes and, I dunno, boost the company's image to the world, win us that all important award of the modern world: equal employment. It gets a solid laugh in the office, even if it is cheap humour.
During inspections season I get brought out like a pinstriped dairy cow that makes chocolate milkshakes. I'm being superficial for laughs but I can't help but feel that I'm a boon to the company in diversity figures alone. The fact that I'm articulate and high functioning (go watch the video I shared to Facebook about that, it's funny because it's true) inspectors engage with me and think it's really nice the disabled employee is getting on so well. Of course they don't see the hours of work, the slog it has taken to get to this point, and I mostly forget the slog because I need space in my head for Simpsons quotes and D&D trivia (not that I've ever played a game, I'm not that lowbrow). Having a decent, if sarcastic sense of humour helps too, and like I said last week, British people are good at the dry wit stuff.
Going back to the girlfriend side, it's not that I'm heartless, it's that I don't feel love, or at least the jumble of confused emotions are unfamiliar to me and I am constantly unsure if it is love or just really bad gas. I made the girlfriend cry last night because I genuinely explained that I do not feel love, but I can fake it to a fair degree. It must be hard to fall in love with someone who cannot love you back, or at least will always be unsure of their feelings. My previous relationships, since diagnosis, I have explained the issue early on and those that can live with the idea that "I love you" is code for you are the one I hate the least and feeds my Aspy.
I'm getting de ja vu writing this, so i'm sure it's a topic I've covered before, but given my dementia and forgetfulness, its not a bad topic to cover and I'm sure this will be updated regularly as people give me insight into my behaviour and traits.
Sorry about the delay, but no one reads this stuff anyway (hello MOTHER, I know you do) so no ones put out.
Follow the Aspy Journey on Facebook and Twitter, where I post interesting articles and updates (and reasons for skiving).
Next week, textures........
Going back to the girlfriend side, it's not that I'm heartless, it's that I don't feel love, or at least the jumble of confused emotions are unfamiliar to me and I am constantly unsure if it is love or just really bad gas. I made the girlfriend cry last night because I genuinely explained that I do not feel love, but I can fake it to a fair degree. It must be hard to fall in love with someone who cannot love you back, or at least will always be unsure of their feelings. My previous relationships, since diagnosis, I have explained the issue early on and those that can live with the idea that "I love you" is code for you are the one I hate the least and feeds my Aspy.
I'm getting de ja vu writing this, so i'm sure it's a topic I've covered before, but given my dementia and forgetfulness, its not a bad topic to cover and I'm sure this will be updated regularly as people give me insight into my behaviour and traits.
Sorry about the delay, but no one reads this stuff anyway (hello MOTHER, I know you do) so no ones put out.
Follow the Aspy Journey on Facebook and Twitter, where I post interesting articles and updates (and reasons for skiving).
Next week, textures........
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