Last week of the semester...

Things are really, really crazy here at the moment, as this is the last week of my second of four semesters of graduate school. It's a bit weird to think that I'm now halfway done with my Master's degree, especially since just a few years ago I never thought I'd be able to get this far when I first was diagnosed. Basically, a diagnosis isn't an end to your life or a limiter on what you can do. It just means you're socially different and you can still achieve what you want to by doing it in your own way. I didn't realize this at first, but now that I know I'm awfully glad I do and have faith in myself.

Faith, though, doesn't eliminate stress. Back to work for me.

Post-Thanksgiving Dispatch From The Front

I survived yet another Thanksgiving. I really have no idea how I make it every year, but I do.

The graduate school semester is winding down, so it's crunch time for me, but I'm a lot more worried about how far behind I've fallen on my holiday shopping because normally I've got my presents for everybody by Thanksgiving. Having to take care of my grandmother (and do grad school work) has slowed me down to the point where I have almost no presents ready to go at a time when I'm normally done. It's stressful, really.

I do have some potentially exciting news coming up if it works out, at least, but I can't spoil things just yet because we don't know how official it is. What I can say is that it involves my art and I might just be getting a break here, so fingers crossed!

I just want a social life back, really. Graduate school takes that away from me for about four months at a time, and now that my grandmother's in the house and needs us to help her out with so many things, I really don't get out when I've got free time, either, because my free time is almost entirely devoted to helping her. I don't mind helping her, of course, but I definitely get really, really frustrated about not being able to see anybody. I've already got Asperger's to make finding friends and potential boyfriends difficult, so not even having the time to try and practice my social skills is really starting to eat at me. I guess you could say graduate school actually makes me pretty lonely.

I also guess I should go and do some work, though. I've got two weeks to go before I can see anyone, so the least I can do is get things done.

Graduate School Keeps You Busy

It's been a very busy few weeks for me, but I think things are finally settling down now.

I had an issue with the bursar's office at my school regarding my student loans - they thought I owed them money when I didn't because the government sent me less money than they initially said they were going to, so my bursar bill got all messed up and there was a temporary hold on my ability to register for classes.

Luckily, that hold is gone and the problem's being repaired, and I'm now registered for my third of four semesters of graduate school. It's weird to think that I only have four weeks of classes left (and that one of these weeks is only for one day because of the Thanksgiving break) and then I'll already be halfway done with my Master's degree - it's giving me a sense of accomplishment for a change.

I'm also feeling accomplished because I managed to catch up on the commissions I owe people last night, so I now currently don't owe anybody any art. It's wonderful to be done with those, too, because for the past several months (since August) I've been behind on pretty much everything and catching up is a wonderful relief.

That being said, I still haven't been sleeping very well lately. I think it has to do with my grandmother moving in with us - I've been under a lot of stress involving that, and it's definitely been getting to me because I'm constantly exhausted. It's been over a month now since she's joined the household, and we're all really, really worn out by the whole thing but she's been very grateful and is doing her best to help out with things despite being 80 years old. It's always nice when the person who moves in with you isn't mean, after all.

Asperger's-wise, I think I've been handling the changes fairly well, although I did have a bad dream about missing my subway the night before I had to take the train out to Brooklyn for some archival field work at Green-Wood Cemetery for school. (I've got three more nights out there, and I'm loving it so far, but it's quite a long commute and it's pretty chilly these days!) Bad dreams generally indicate stress to me because I know I have a habit of laying down to go to bed and only thinking about what work I need to get done the next day, so hopefully I'll be able to get some time off to myself to do nothing soon. I'd really, really like to do nothing.

Living With A Walking Sensory Overload

So my grandmother's moved in with us now.

It's not exactly the greatest arrangement in the world for me, but I've managed so far. It's definitely difficult for me, though, because she's been the impetus of many, many sensory overloads over the years for me, and I'm not certain how long I'll be able to tolerate the added noise and disturbances in my home environment. I'm also concerned because I don't make enough money to move out and get away, and those times when I do manage to escape are work and school, which are exhausting on their own.

Basically, I'm probably not going to be able to handle this very well and I know it, and the fact that I know it is eating away at me because I'm 24 and have been through a ton of therapy and feel like I should be able to. In the end, I'm still a slave to my own biology, and loud people who never stop talking are crippling to me. It actually makes me feel bad about myself because I feel like I've grown so much and yet this one thing can still bring me to my knees.

To be fair, she's already been driving my parents up the wall, too, so I'm not alone. I'm just really dismayed and disheartened that I can't handle this as well as I'd like to be able to.

I have a distinct feeling that it's going to be easier to have an infant child in the house than having my grandmother in the house. Help me.

Quick update to prove I'm alive...

It's that time of the semester where everything starts to get really overwhelming and I just want to cry all the time.

I think once I get through the next week or so, things are going to slow down considerably for me, which is wonderful and which I sorely need. I'm doing my best to go ahead on readings in order to stay ahead of the curve with work, but things are getting crazy and I've noticed that I'm getting irritable, a sure sign that I'm under too much pressure at the moment.

My grandmother (who has caused many sensory overloads for me over the years) is now moving in with us, as well, which is going to make matters even more difficult - after the death of my grandfather, we determined that she wouldn't be able to take care of herself in the apartment they lived in and so she's going to be splitting time between our home in New Jersey and my aunt's home up in Rochester, NY. I'm not so sure how well I'll handle having her around all the time because she tends to overload my brain pretty quickly, but I'm going to do my best to be as helpful and kind as I can be. It's really awful when you lose your spouse of 59 years.

Basically, this is just a quick post to let everyone know I'm still here and that I'm just completely buried under work, both for grad school and for comics, at the moment. And my grandmother's moving in. And I have a part-time job. And...yeah.

Breathe, Steph, breathe.

Yes, You May Have Asperger's - Just Check With Your Doctor First

A friend of mine linked me to an article on self-diagnosis and why it's not necessarily a good thing, but there are quite a few things wrong with it and I'm really quite put out by the fact that these assumptions are still going around.

So we're going to have a little talk.

Trigger warnings, by the way - this article has an argument in it that justifies cases of child abuse.

Let's get started here and shatter a few of the fallacies in here.

Everyone, to some extent, has symptoms of autism: it’s a natural outcome of how the brain works. Our species has evolved to have certain mental traits that support our social nature: we excel at facial recognition (to the extent that we might see faces in a grilled cheese sandwich, or in sand dunes on Mars); we are more empathetic towards fellow humans than towards other animals; we unconsciously negotiate sexual interest. Autistic people have poor social skills because these parts of brains are innately limited—a genetic throwback to a pre-evolved brain.

Nope. Autism is not a genetic throwback to a pre-evolved brain, especially given that people on the autism spectrum are for the most part of average or above average intelligence. In fact, with the prevalence of social media these days, the social playing field is actually becoming more level - since more young people are using social media and texting to communicate, their face-to-face social skills are actually declining. [Studies have been out on this for years - here's one and here's another.] If anything, because of humankind's technological advances more and more people's brains are functioning like ours and not like neurotypical brains traditionally have.

Compared to society at large, furries are collectively further along the autistic spectrum. Symptoms of this might include our flair for technical work, such as IT and the sciences, and perhaps in our enjoyment of fursuits, which create a ‘deindividualized’ social environment.

I am not a furry, but never, ever generalize an entire subculture. EVER. This would be like me saying all of my fellow library science students are on the spectrum, and we're clearly not. But this isn't the biggest flaw in the argument. That's coming up now:

It’s common for people with Asperger’s disorder to characterize themselves as feeling like a non-human, like an alien tourist in a strange society. It’s easy to see why a young furry, who feels disconnected from the world and identifies as an animal-person, would find this compelling. Asperger’s disorder is also fairly high-profile because it’s relatable—mild autism is comparable to the less permanent condition of being a teenager—and also because of Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, a novel with an apparently autistic narrator. The narrator, Christopher, is an easy character for any young adult to relate to in the Holden Caulfield sense: he’s an outsider, confounded by his constant failure to act according to society’s fluid and unsaid rules. It’s an engaging read (although it flags badly in the second half as Haddon gamely tries to narrate action through Christopher’s limited perception of the world).

Anyone identifying with Christopher from The Curious Incident is almost definitely not autistic. To identify is to demonstrate empathy, the very trait that Christopher—and anyone with Asperger’s/ASD—lacks. The same logic can be applied more broadly: if you think you have autism, you almost certainly don’t.

ABSOLUTELY AND COMPLETELY INCORRECT. The biggest misconception about autism in general is that autistics lack empathy. This is absolutely untrue and has been proven time and time again in both studies and by many people encountering people on the spectrum, as well as people on the spectrum themselves. I wasn't diagnosed until age 20, and I actually feel empathy MORE STRONGLY than the average neurotypical, getting far too emotional over my friends' problems and not emotional enough over my own. I'm also female, so another argument in this article is thrown out. Mature women can and do have autism, you know.

By the way, I've identified with many fictional characters (and quite a few comedians and at least one baseball player) over the years. Does that make me any less Aspergian? No, of course not. People on the spectrum have heroes too because - shocker - WE'RE PEOPLE. I think that gets lost in the shuffle way too often here.

Autistic people are often unable to see themselves as part of society. Ironically, anyone who thinks that they don’t fit in is demonstrating that they fit in well enough to be aware of society’s norms. A feeling of alienation doesn’t imply alienation. It’s usually the opposite: a feeling of alienation implies that you are maturing and learning to assimilate.

This is the difference between being autistic and being a teenager: autistic people do not mature to the point that they can fully function within society. It’s also worth considering that maturation continues until we are about 30 years old, and that the skills that help us feel part of society—empathetic skills—are the slowest to develop (ref).

No again, sir. I do in fact feel like I don't fit properly into society, but it's because I don't fit the societal norm that popular culture and stereotyping have reinforced into my brain from a very early age. And guess what? I felt alienated growing up because, and you're not going to believe this, I was. My peers both bullied me and socially ostracized me, so I was actually more or less kept from socializing with people my own age as a kid. I was socially alienated. I wanted friends horribly - and many people on the autism spectrum do - but nobody wanted me as a friend.

P.S. I'm an autistic graduate student who writes two webcomics, works as a tour guide, commutes into the busiest city in the world for school, and actually has quite a few friends. I fully function in society despite my autism because autism is a spectrum.

Now we'll actually talk a bit about self-diagnosis, which I covered on this blog once before for a bit when I talked about the negative perceptions of Asperger's on the internet. Self-diagnosis is a tricky road to walk, but here's the advice I give people who think they might fit into the Asperger's mold:

• Talk to a doctor. Once you've brought this up with your general practitioner, he/she/they can help you find a psychiatrist who can properly diagnose you.
• Antisocial =/= Asperger's. This is one of my biggest pet peeves, and it seems like these were the people that the article was actually aimed at to begin with - people who assume that Asperger's is identified by antisocial behavior. It's not, and we actually like being social, but struggle with how to do it in a way that won't get us ostracized or bullied. If you're antisocial, you're highly likely to not be autistic. These are two separate mental conditions entirely.
• Don't declare your self-diagnosis until you've had it medically confirmed. If you do so and you're misdiagnosing yourself, you're going to look like an idiot and won't be taken seriously. Do tell trusted people that you think you may have something - even Asperger's - but that you have to check with medical professionals to get an official diagnosis.

And one more thing from the end of this article:

If you have self-diagnosed as having Asperger’s, or if you were diagnosed when young, it may be time to reconsider.

Self-diagnosis is something that you need to check out with a medical professional before you confirm it, yes, but if you were diagnosed as a young child...well, I hate to break it to you, fellow, but you don't grow out of an ASD. You learn to cope with it and develop your social skills through therapy (my therapist has personally done a smashing job with me), but it's not something you grow out of because it's a neurological variation. It's an actual difference in the brain. It's going to be permanently there in some capacity for your entire life because it's literally a physical difference - a quick Google search turns up tons of images of brain scans to show these differences, as well as the accompanying articles (which are fascinating reading, although I'd like to see more ASD women in the studies since we tend to be overlooked).

Anyhow, I apologize for getting worked up, but as long as these misconceptions still float around people on the spectrum, myself included, are going to be sorely misrepresented and misunderstood.

tl;dr: If you suspect you may have Asperger's or are on the autism spectrum, talk to your doctor and get a proper diagnosis from a trusted psychiatrist. Also make sure, though, that you actually know what Asperger's actually entails and that you're not mistaking it for something else, because misconceptions like the ones seen above are often the cause of a lot of strife.

In Which I Attend A Panel Discussion In My Career Field

Last night, I went into the city (Manhattan for you non-locals - we all just refer to it as 'the city' and call the other boroughs by their real names) for an archival panel discussion on digitization of archival holdings and how it changes the research practices of historians and others. It was honestly great and I loved sitting in and listening to some leading figures in my field - well, both of my fields, since I'm trained as a historian and am now training as an archivist.

I'll be honest, though - I was terrified to go.

I don't really like going to events where I don't know anybody because my social anxiety flares up big-time and I have trouble keeping myself calm. This particular event even had a reception afterwards with food, so I was excited for the food but utterly horrified at the prospect of not knowing a soul in the room. I felt the anxiety coming on at least 24 hours in advance and I was sick to my stomach on the train ride into the city. I was just waiting for myself to screw something up when talking to somebody.

I tried psyching myself up in the only way a historian knows how - I attempted to get into the head of a socially adept person from history, someone who could command a room and make friends with ease. Being from New Jersey and therefore having a propensity to swear often, I told myself to pretend to be like Carole Lombard for the evening (as she swore extremely often too). To be fair, I actually tell myself to aspire to be more like Carole a lot since she was just so darn cool, but on this particular occasion I really needed her gregariousness just so that I would survive the evening. We also have similar senses of humor, so she's a natural person for me to try to emulate. (I just want to avoid the plane crash part, of course. I do not want to avoid marrying someone as hot as Clark Gable.)

As it was, I walked into the venue for the program and noticed that most of my fellow archivists were arriving in groups or at least knew each other already. I sank down into a seat in the lobby, even more uncomfortable than I had been on the way there, and told myself to breathe. I knew I didn't have to stay for the reception after the panel discussion, but I hadn't eaten dinner and there was going to be food there, so I was planning on at least grabbing something to eat.

The auditorium opened up soon after I arrived and I got settled in and actually made some small talk with people I didn't know regarding the wi-fi, which I was pretty proud of. The ultimate accomplishment for me, however, was seeing a fairly attractive guy around my age with the same Moleskine notebook as me and catching his eye and smiling at him, holding my notebook up. He actually smiled back at me. This was huge for me because I tend to have a lot of problems in that area. The moment he smiled back at me, I calmed down completely. I didn't feel inept anymore. I felt like I could survive the night after all because I actually accomplished something that I always thought I was too shy to even try. I just did it without even thinking.

Maybe that's my problem, actually - I think too much and feel too little.

I took a ton of notes during the panel discussion, which I'm going to shape into a blog post on Tumblr at a later time (i.e. when I have a chance to). Things then ended, and we all went back into the lobby to find that the food was just appetizers. That wasn't going to cut it for me - I hadn't had dinner - and so I joined a lot of other attendees in simply leaving. Seeing other people heading out reminded me that I wasn't actually socially obligated to remain after all, so I very happily headed to the door, opened my umbrella, and departed in the pouring rain. (Said pouring rain caused my train home from Hoboken to be delayed by over an hour, but that's why I still live at home - my dad came and grabbed me at the station instead.)

Overall, it was actually a successful evening for me. I was certainly relieved to be home, for sure, but I had actually gone to an adult function in my field and not made anybody around me feel uncomfortable. Nobody made fun of me or said anything mean, and I even initiated eye contact with a guy in my age group.

Last night was pretty darn good. Except for the rain.