Waiting

I don't do well with waiting... waiting when I'm about to be in an appointment is tough because there's no way to get into a new project without knowing you're about to be interupted.

The room doesn't have a clock.

It's still ten minutes... hardly long enough to do anything...

I don't do well with waiting...

Disclosure - Part 2

Yesterday was a game changer, but not for the reasons I thought it might be...

I'm currently listening to a recording of yesterday's seminar on disclosure in the workplace - It was not as informative as I had hoped as it became more of an "airing of the issues" rather than an actual how-to format.  Out of the 12 people in attendance, four people spoke (including the woman giving the presentation and myself).  I attempted to bring the others into the conversation but was unsuccessful.  It ended up being a benign discussion that included the feeling that everyone was thinking that they had the roughest life situation to deal with...

My second meeting, on the other hand, was a mostly one-on-one discussion over Myers-Briggs, COPS Interest Inventory results - as well as Asperger's Syndrome.

Have you ever been in a discussion where the people are so certain about something that it is the central point of the conversation?  Well, that is what yesterday was - and the central point was the fact that I have Asperger's.

I have, since this discussion, been trying to get a better grasp on what AS is and how the way I interact with people makes it so apparent to anyone who has studied this life situation.  I am not close to understanding it... and yet, I see a lot of myself in the descriptions I've read...

But I keep coming back to the quote

“If you’ve seen one person with Asperger Syndrome 

you’ve seen one person with Asperger Syndrome” 

– Stephen Shore

It seems like there are a lot of things to learn...

Disclosure - Part 1

Tomorrow, I'll be attending a course about Disclosure at the Workplace:

"Participants will have the opportunity to review their personal beliefs in regards to their skills and abilities and how these beliefs affects the way they present themselves and live their lives.  Participants will learn how to cope and understand their own disabilities with a new sense of purpose and strategies to address them, whether it is a recently acquired disability or one that they have been living with for some time"

I've been thinking about this since before signing up for the course - whenever someone says anything regarding "mental health" or "disabilities", we all have images or impressions that come into our minds that have been shaped by our experiences.  When these labels can be personally attached, there are even more references.

Since I have been tagged with varying levels of "Nonverbal Learning Disorder", "ADD", "ADHD", "Strange", "Depressed", "Gifted", "OCD", "Funny", "Different"... and who knows what else... I have sought information on psychology and workplace practices for years.

I'm hoping that this will be an interesting seminar and I will be able to share some tidbits in Part 2

Seeking help

...at a certain point, no matter how intelligent you are, you must face your fears and ask for help.  This is one of the scariest things to do in the best of times and it's even harder when you've dealt with rude ignorance in the past.

And then you get to the grey government office and talk to the bespectacled woman behind the big desk and she hands you forms with repetitive questions and graphical pictures of handicapped people and you are sent to another grey building where everyone speaks in soft tones and the occasional person in mismatched sweatpants and old jersey tops comes around the corner babbling... and you know none of this is right... these are all nice people trying to help... the poor babbling soul wasn't asked permission to be born like this and the girl wailing out in pain while her attendant is having a smoke break wasn't given the option between being healthy and having to stand in a massive spider-like contraption because her skeletal structure won't hold her tiny frame. 

You remind yourself that you can go days or months or years not talking about disabilities or the loathsome topic of "Special Needs"... you can "pass" as normal for long stretches of time... but every time you get held up by those times of stress or challenge that others are able to navigate and you aren't, you realize that you actually were just hiding from the life situation.

It's true... I wasn't "passing"...

Why I cancelled television

What is your morning routine?  Maybe you turn on the coffee or go straight for the shower.  Do you wake up to an alarm that plays music or beeps?  Can you wake-up without an alarm?

I find myself turning the television on as the first thing... it will be on the news or music, but the action is automatic... I could very well still be asleep when I do it.

I'm very sensitive to noise of all forms and, because everything in this world makes some form of noise, it can become overwhelming.

I have an odd sort of discipline when it comes to coffee - when I want it too much, I stop drinking it.  With TV, it's the same thing - This will be the fourth or fifth time that I've cancelled TV.  I have always come back to it in the past, and it's likely I'll get it again at some point... but I don't want a device running my life.

Generally, I'll cancel TV if I find myself watching re-runs of old shows too much ...also, when I multi-media too much.  Last night, I was watching a show on the TV, another on the computer, and I was reading and doing other things around the house at the same time... and sometimes I'll find myself doing this and realize that the radio is playing in my room.

Why would someone choose to have all of this activity going around them?  I have no answer.  So it's time to unplug.

Thinking doesn't make it go away

Consider a leak under the kitchen sink.  The sink is the vital heart of the kitchen just as the kitchen is the brain of the family for that is where we gather to sustain and enrich ourselves.  If the sink stops contributing water, we aren't able to clean or prepare food.  It the kitchen isn't functional, the family cannot meet everyday around the hearth in the traditional way. 

That leaky sink is how mental illness effects the brain and body for if there is a slow leak, it may not be detected for a while... but the amount of damage done to the very structure of the house is detrimental.  If one turns a blind eye to a leak, for even necessary reasons, the damage to the walls, floors, the very structure and strength of the house can be unrecoverable.

So what is an adult discovering mental illness to do when the brain has slowly caused this type of equivalent damage to her life? What renovation can be accomplished to make the sick house well again? Is there a Mike Holmes-type to guide the process?  If there is no trust in the mind, how can that brain rely on the system or professions that are present to aid in this renovation?

It is to be discovered...

Teachers of the Ivory Tower

The Ivory Tower - originally coined in the Bible's 7:4 Song of Soloman - has come to mean a solitary place of study where you can make a career, like university.  I would argue that this could be extended to positions of authority and trust like doctors, police, priests and other community leaders.  Since humans are pack animals, they seek a certain amount of hierarchical structure and these respected "pillars of the community"are where many people find that leadership.  As we grow up, we are taught to respect people in these positions - and rightly so as they are academic and it takes years of dedication to earn these titles.  Yet, there is a loud thump that resonates from these expectations when they are violated.  If a person has a series of experiences with any of these professions (or combination, thereof) that include disappointment, disenfranchisement, scorn, ridicule, fear or violence, the Ivory Tower is cracked and starts to crumble.

The list of Ivory Tower careers would not be complete without mention of teachers.  Those we come to  for access to knowledge from a very young age to adulthood where our definition of "teacher" is expanded away from just those who stand in front of a classroom.  These people are seen as sources of intellect and hold a great deal of respect and trust.  Isn't it a shame, then, that there are members of the educational professions who disrespect this trust by letting their egos guide them, instead of their efforts and good intentions they had while they, themselves, were in school?

I speak from the perspective of someone who has always loved the theory of what school was supposed to be - the ideal pursuit of knowledge and an increasing depth of understanding in all subject areas.  I'm from the "Reading Rainbow" generation - for those of you who don't know, Reading Rainbow was Levar Burton's entertaining show built around encouraging children to read.  I remember being so excited about the first day of school every year... I had enjoyed Summer vacation and I was ready for that new opportunity to "start fresh"... "This year is going to be different! I'm going to excel in my classes and learn a lot of interesting things and I'm going to meet a bunch of wonderful people!"  Soon afterwards though, every year, I'd remember that people can be mean to people who are different.  I'd get off on the wrong foot with someone; I wouldn't wear the right thing; I didn't own the right pencil... whatever.  We all get bullied at some point, right?  If not... you were the bully... But I would try to not let it bother me - we were all taking some time to "get in the swing of things" in the new semester or at the new school... teachers were new, schedule was different... there was an adjustment.

Sooner or later, though, school becomes routine - and for the misfits, popular kids and everything in between, school settles down.  Some classes I liked, others not so much... same with everyone, right?  My routine, however, was mostly grouped into the few classes I did really well in (like Language Arts) and...the others...

I knew that teachers were part of the Ivory Tower class of people I should respect on sight.  They were trying to help, trying to help us grow... and it wasn't their fault that they couldn't stop the bullies from going after me.  Humans are pack animals, and I was one of the runts.

So I worked... and I studied... and I tried to find interest in everything we were learning... yeah... right...

But that was ok because I had music, art, the fun parts of gym (gymnastics, volleyball, that one soccer class that I scored the winning goal) and Language Arts.  I loved L.A. because you got to read interesting books and discuss them.  I did well in the class because I was a strong writer and had good comprehension (except with poetry).

And then there was Mrs. McGee.  She was my teacher in grade 7... and a good one... We got to study "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee...still one of my favourite books... and sometimes we watched movies based on the books we read.  And every class we had 15 minutes of "Free Reading"... anything we wanted to read except comic books.

One day - I forgot my free reading book:

This wasn't a big deal because there was a large group of shelves in the back of the classroom filled with books to choose from.  I saw an orange binding (I love bright colours) and found "The Chrysalids" by John Wyndham (Published by Penguin - all their paperbacks have an orange spine).  Since a post-apocolyptic, science fiction tale looked interesting and free reading only lasted 15 minutes, I started reading it back at my desk and became instantly engrossed.

Mrs. McGee shortly came around to see what I had chosen and immediately took it out of my hands.

"Melissa - This book is for grade 10 students"

Well, of course, I hadn't noticed that the book had grade recommendations on its' back cover... it just looked interesting.  I said that I was enjoying it and asked to have it back.  Mrs. McGee said that grade 7 was too young to read this book and I wouldn't understand it so I would have to choose another book.  With one last attempt, I started to tell her about the small bit I had been able to read in the short amount of time wishing that would be enough... but she walked back to her desk at the front of the classroom, with other kids looking over their books at us, and placed "Chrysalids" on its' corner.  I could see my little book on the big desk and knew that I couldn't argue the point anymore.  What the teacher said was right and a child shouldn't argue with a teacher.

Later, I thought that she must be right... I wouldn't have been able to read it... why should I try?  And I didn't read much for the next while... why bother?

I slowly got back into reading, little by little... but that always gnawed at me that someone who I had called my "favourite" teacher could do something like that...  As an adult, I look back and think "Hey, if I'm a teacher and I have a student who is reading above their level, I should encourage them... not publicly argue their abilities in front of the other children who are likely bullies..."

Since then, and other misadventures with Ivory Tower types, I have to work very hard to give people in those professions the opportunity to earn my trust and respect.  I still know there are plenty of good people in these professions... and a good friend of mine is a teacher (an excellent one)... but there is always that sense of mistrust... The Ivory Tower has crumbled.