I'm back!

I've had a very busy past couple of months. It really all comes down to the fact that we've adopted two Old English sheepdogs and I'm playing mom to them whilst volunteering at my godfather's library helping to transcribe documents in the local history room. It's given me a sense of purpose again, which has really helped my morale out a lot. I've also applied for a big girl job - keep your fingers crossed - and I sold some of my art at New York Comic Con. It's been some solid progress for me, I think. I'm working on getting the hang of this 'adult' thing.

(In the top left corner there is Louise with my mom as she graduates 'puppy first grade.' I'm just really in the mood to share some cute puppy photos with you all today. On the right is my brother with Barnaby.)

I'm actually doing group therapy now, as well. It's for social skills practice, and the other women in the group are helping me out a great deal. I'll do a post on that - without divulging any secrets since what happens in group stays in group - soon.

Right now, I just wanted everyone to know that I'm going to be updating this blog again. More cartoons will come soon, promise! I just really needed to take a little time to settle back in and get used to taking on some adult responsibilities.

In Need Of Direction

I actually drew this on vacation. Yeah, you think I'd be happier on vacation - and don't get me wrong, I had fun - but I've been struggling greatly since I've graduated from college. I have no direction in my life right now, and it's becoming really frustrating. I'm planning on going to graduate school and trying to get a paying job (not a 9-to-5 one, remember?), but at the moment I feel completely lost and I hate it.

I'm going to talk to my therapist tomorrow about this and see if he can give me a nudge in the right direction, but I'm realizing that boredom does not sit well with an active person like myself. I don't mean active in the sense of 'athletically active' or anything - I'm just one of those people who can't sit around doing nothing. I need to be doing something.

Today I ran an errand, going to Williams-Sonoma at the Garden State Plaza to pick up some ice cream bowls that my dad wanted. I also got lunch (Sarku chicken teriyaki and soba). This was the first time I'd left the house in two days. Just being outside gave me some life. I need something to do. I need a life again.

I need some direction.

The Irresponsible Traveler

Yeah. I forgot something when I checked out of a New Hampshire hotel today and my friend and I traveled to Vermont.

It was my bag of already-worn shirts and my iPod.

Somehow, when I called the hotel, they managed to find my iPod but not my clothes. Either way, I ended up feeling really stupid. It just made me feel disorganized and irresponsible.

For those wondering, my iPod is in the mail on its way to my house. They're still looking for my clothes. If you really care, I'll keep you posted.

Jobs

I have never had a job for money. I've had several volunteer positions over the years, but the only way I made any money was through petsitting (or occasionally babysitting). Yesterday, I finished sixteen hours of MLB Draft coverage singlehandedly, which I survived on caffeine and...well, that's about it. I like caffeine.

I've noticed, though, that working normal jobs just isn't for me. I don't like 9-5 hours - I'm more of a night person, so that's why I'm starting to gravitate into sportswriting: they work at night. It also means I don't have to be around people as much, because people tend to just make things really difficult and awkward for me. I knew at an early age that I couldn't deal with an office environment after I went into work with my dad on Bring Your Child To Work Day. (I did get McDonalds out of that, though. Score.)

It's not that I can't work with people - I network online with my Aerys Sports colleagues pretty darn well, if I do say so myself. It's just that I like working on my own time with my own rules, which a standard work environment wouldn't provide for me. It makes finding a job really hard in a job market that's already extremely difficult to navigate and deal with.

You can do me a favor and commission art from me, though. That'd be pretty cool. Hit up my email for more at stephsartrequests (at) gmail (dot) com.

Desperation aside, my point is that jobs are a difficult thing to figure out, especially since everyone on the autism spectrum has specific needs and not every job is going to meet those needs because each person is different. Those are my needs. Well, those and money. I need money, too.

On Talking Normally, Talking Like A Human, And Talking To Boys

I tend to feel left out a lot in social situations, especially since I can't integrate myself into groups very well. It's very difficult to do in person, especially with my lacking social skills. I try to talk to people, but since I don't talk normally, it ends up being very off-putting and isolating. Here are some of the things I have problems with:

• Not sounding condescending. Because I'm hyperlexic, I use a lot of big words in my speech. To me, it's normal: I just love big words. I've been reading since I was 2 1/2 years old. To other people, I sound like an Ivory Tower academic. That's not the kind of person people want to be around. I sound like I think I'm better than them, and although I don't actually think that, it makes them feel like I'm a snob and don't like them or that I'd be taking myself down socially just to associate with them. It hurts. I genuinely want to be friends with them.
• Not sounding like a robot. I talk like a computer sometimes, especially since I'm so stiff. I have a tendency towards spouting off information whether it's relevant or not: as soon as I think of it, I say it, which really annoys people who don't actually care. (The one place this is useful: my knowledge of random baseball statistics, which are actually a good thing to be able to spout off in the sportswriting world.) I'm not very good at toning myself down with the random information, which also alienates me.
• Boys. I'm really intimidated by them for some reason, probably because I know they have the power to accept or reject me in a very different kind of love than family or friends give me. So when I'm talking to one I find cute, I get really shy and fail even more at making eye contact than usual. I'd love to connect to one and fall in love and get married someday, but this is really, really hard for someone like me because I struggle so badly with putting myself out there. I'm too shy to open up in non-baseball settings. I can talk to boys about baseball - and I do, as it's part of my job writing for Aerys Sports. But when it comes to everyday life, I'm crippled, and it's hard for me to open up. So whilst boys can and will fall in love with all of you, they won't fall for me. This isn't the case for most girls, Asperger's or not: you're quirky and beautiful and lovable, and as long as you let them see that, you're golden. But I was made fun of so badly as a kid that I'm afraid to open up now because I'm afraid that it could easily happen to me again, so I'm very closed off.

As you can see, I clearly face a lot of social challenges. The internet minimizes these for me by making it easier for me to talk to all of you, especially since I get to write instead of speak and I can write a lot better than I can talk. But I want to be able to survive in real life, and I feel like no matter how hard I work on my social skills these three things never get any better. I know they're part of what makes me who I am, but they're also things that make it harder for me to develop friendships and other kinds of relationships (I'm 22 and I've never been on a date, let alone held a boy's hand). I mentally struggle with this a lot, and it's hard for me to pick myself up sometimes.

But then I remember that I'm unique and special and there are people in my life who appreciate me for who I am, and it makes me feel better. Hopefully, there are other people out there like that, too.

Thank You

Today I had my final collegiate therapy appointment.

I broke down sobbing at the end.

My therapist at school is named Dr. Bradley. I first met with her two years ago during my sophomore year when I was stricken with OCD and I really needed help - I was in a horrible place at that time and I swear having her to talk to saved my life. She walked me through my OCD at a time when I was extremely mentally needy, and she kept me alive and helped me survive my sophomore year. I literally would not have made it without her.

Here I am, graduating on May 22nd, and where would I have been if I didn't have her to turn to? I don't even want to think about it. It was her advice and her willingness to always listen to me that guided me through college. I would have been so beyond lost and despondent without her help. I'm scared to think of what I might have been like without her there. I don't know if I would have made it to where I am here.

Dr. Bradley, I really, really love you. You are a huge reason why I'm still here and why I'm graduating soon, and I know I could have never done it without you. Thank you for everything you've done, and I'll be sure to keep in touch with you once I'm back at home! It means so beyond much to me. Writing this is making me tear up all over again because I'm going to miss you so much when I'm not in school anymore. I can't even find the words to put this post together because there's just so much to say and I can't even articulate it. It's hard to put emotions into words anyhow.

So in short, thank you, Dr. Bradley. You're amazing. Keep on doing what you do - you're truly a wonderful woman, and I am so lucky to have you in my life. You've really made such a difference for me and I'm going to carry it with me forever.

Thank you. For everything. ♥

Academia ate my brain

I drew that in my notes during my second trip to the National Archives this semester when I was on a research trip to get some court-martial records from some soldiers in order to write my senior thesis, which is on rheumatism and soldiers who faked the disease to get out of military service during the American Civil War. I've never felt this mentally fried due to scholarly work in my entire life.

Normally, I eat, sleep and breathe academia, specifically when it relates to my interests (military history, baseball, etc.). When you have a limited time to work on things, however, you feel a sudden squeeze and it just grates at you and saps all of the fun out of doing the research and exploring your subject. I love doing research. It's such a gratifying feeling to find a source or a bit of information that helps you prove your point. But when there's so much pressure and you find yourself continually crying and sobbing to your roommate that you're breaking down because of it, it's not exactly as fun. The stress of this was just not okay.

In retrospect, I'm wondering if I could have gone to Disability Services on campus to ask them about working with my professors to help me find better ways to complete my assignments without getting so stressed out. But I'm pretty much done with my undergraduate experience now, so I'm always going to be left wondering. Don't be too proud to try it, though, because you never know what might happen and who could help you. My on-campus therapist, Dr. Kathy Bradley, has been my savior this semester. Make sure if you need support you get it - you'll melt down and end up in a very bad place otherwise.

And now I will go and do my citations. Ugh.