Nearly every day, my mind plays the same draining tape: “You are lazy. You accomplish nothing. You should be ashamed.”
Eight or nine hours worked six days every week? They don’t count. Any preparation for my masters program this coming autumn? It wasn’t enough. Any cleaning or other task? I should have done it weeks ago.
Do you ever over-analyze a situation? Think about it until you have exhausted the ways to view it?
This seems to be my life. Why did he say that to me? Why is she looking at me? Are they thinking this? What if they really mean that?
These are the thoughts that continuously run through my head. Every moment of my life seems to be analyzed by myself.
Part of this is my Aspergers. To understand others and adapt socially, I taught myself to pay close attention to small details. Forgetting the “littlest” thing could lead to teasing or being abandoned by my peers.
However, some of my attentiveness seems to have gone overboard. Now, I no longer know how to control it. One word or glance might make me miserable for days. On the other hand, a positive interaction can make me elated for the rest of the week.
So does anyone else (especially those on the Autism spectrum) deal with this? How do you manage to not read too much into everything? Is this even a bad thing?
I am sorry, neighbors, that I look at you with terrified eyes when you try to say “Hi” while I am walking. That I rapidly turn and scurry in the other direction when I see you even begin to leave your front door. That I would rather pass by a huge black snake than you and your dog.
I am sorry, neighbors, that social anxiety seizes me and propels me away from other humans. That my heart begins to shake whenever I see a car drive by me. That I envision each person around kidnapping, torturing, and killing me.
Being in Orlando has taught me a strange fact: I draw people to myself.
Writing that means that I must admit it which is hard. Me, a people person? Me, someone who others like? Me, friendly?
Yet, it is true. Whether chatting with a stranger on the bus or the new person at work, I enjoy knowing people’s stories which they, in turn, enjoy telling. When numerous people are asking to hang out, I must admit that something I am doing (or maybe who I am????) is making friends. Strange how I have changed over the years.
My roommate said this amazing phrase the other day: “You have a way with people.”
“Yeah, a way of making them annoyed,” I wanted to quip. However, the negative remarks just stayed in my head as I smiled in thanks.
Her response had to do with a story I had told her about my day. Earlier that afternoon, I went to Harry Potter World at Universal Studios for the first time. Stepping into Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade was truly a magical experience.
Meeting Princess Anna who also has problems with promises
“But you promised.”
That is one of the resounding thoughts in my life. I am constantly disappointed because someone promises to hang out with me or give me a present or be there for me but he or she fails to keep to what they promised.
The other day when I was grouping people onto the carousal – AKA herding them into a small space to count how many people will be on the next ride – which is a job that terrifies me because I need to tell guests to do something they hate doing, a fellow cast member and great friend named Amanda said one of the sweetest things ever.
“You have gotten so good with people!” She beamed. “I feel like a proud mother.”