Up again

A couple days ago, as I struggled to fall asleep, I wondered "could Asperger's be linked to Insomnia". Since a child, I struggled with insomnia. I would stay up until early morning hours reading a book. I recall the time, my father came to wake us up to go to school and was surprised to see me up reading. I then worried that I hadn't slept. I hadn't noticed the time. I asked him if I would be bad, what would happen to me for not sleeping. He assured me I would be fine. I may simply feel tired throughout the day. My staying up late reading was a problem for my sister. Despite using a clip on light (we shared a bunk bed), she complained over the years that the light was bothering her. Truth is because of my insomnia and my love of books, I impressed my librarian with whom I rented out a book a day. 

Anyhow, wondering if insomnia is linked to Asperger's, well I think it is very plausible. Can my neurological disorder affect my ability to perceive and interpret sleeping relating cues in my environment. It seems almost as if at night, I come to life. In truth, as a teenager, I felt safer at night. I knew others were asleep while I was up. Is it my subconscious mind that tricks me in staying up as only time I feel safe to be me. Other possible factor I wonder, is my sensitivity to bright lights. I dislike the daylight as bright, could my eyes feel more comfortable in darkness so subconsciously my body is triggered to stay up as more comfortable in darker lights. 

Another thing that has been working my mind lately: "not everyone's brain work as fast as yours". How many times have I heard this. Seriously, let me please clarify: I hate such comment. What is it supposed to communicate? I view it as a hypocrite critic. I didn't ask for my brain to function differently. Now, I must "slow down" as if I knew how. I mean if I could, I would have done it since a long time as to fit better with others. My brain literally is why I struggled to socialize. My brain does not seem to have "good" filters. I tend to be seen as blunt by others. I tend to state the facts, not always realizing others surrounding me cannot always take in the truth without feeling "hurt". Really, let me say it: "EGO". Seriously, do I mean to hurt someone's feelings ? Absolutely not. I just like to stick to facts as it makes sense to me. I truly "HATE" when others ask me questions to which they vainly expect a satisfactory answer for their own ego. Essentially, don't ask me a question to which you are not prepared to hear the truth. I comprehend to a certain extent that most people have a ego, including myself, though why should I be subjected to having to sublimate the truth simply to please someone. I guess or rather understand the need for humans to seek positive validations about themselves, though why? I mean why don't they see the truth as being a better indicator of respect for them. If I was to lie to please them, am I not deserving them? Yes and no, I don't fully understand why I must "sublimate" the facts as to please someone's vain ego. Truth seems to be that if you don't say the "expected" thing, you will be outcast and punished. Not fair. This is why I am certain I am not the only one out in this world to avoid social activities. I dread them by fear of being rejected for being myself and or I must fake it and then end up disliking myself and or losing a sense of my own self. For what purpose? Please others? 

Still up

Once again, I am up after 1 am. I can recall my insomnias while growing up. I would stay up late reading then as I became a teenager, it seems that my brain would not shut down. Melatonin would do nothing, I remember calling my dad's office to leave a voicemail to express my exasperation: I felt exhausted but I couldn't shut down. A doctor suggested I write when up late at night. I took up the exercise, I felt so confused by what I read in the morning. It seemed that my mind was going over every events that had occurred the day before. It seemed that I was trying to make sense of it. I was so exhausted and tired, I wrote outside of the lines and not my normal writing as it rushed. When this was brought up, I was told "your brain doesn't shut down" essentially my brain was overworking. Well, now it makes sense. I can't control my worries and needs to figure things out. I wish I could be in control of my thoughts so I could cease worrying over things I cannot change. This is no life for anyone. Though this is clearly something that many of us suffer with.

How I think

Like most nights, I fell asleep and woke up around midnight unable to fall back asleep. My mind restless, going over things I cannot explain. For instance, as sick as it may sound to many, I obsess over wars, why so many people had to die? What happen after we die? Is there an afterlife? Why live in a world that seems so painful? I can't help obsess over so many of these questions to which I cannot find a satisfying answer. I can't help but feel restless and part of the problem. I want answers,  all I really want is to be part of a solution. I am certain many would jump to the conclusion that I am depressed by my thoughts though I am aware I don't have the most common thoughts. I worry about everything especially things that happened in the past, well before I was born. I simply cannot make sense of it. I "hate" that slavery happened, that wars happened and that as I am typing I am conscious somewhere in the world, there are others suffering. Some are affected by the loss or death of a loved one (whether in hospitals, as some lose their loved one to a long disease, or to a random freakish sudden accident, or even in third world where a parent may see its child die by lack of vaccination or nutrition...), or others are being victims to others under the influence of alcohol or drugs (children being beaten by a drunk parent, women being victims of rape or sex traffic), or even animals suffering (dogs being skinned alive in other countries, or cats and dogs being out there fending for themselves in the harsh weather and not finding food...). It simply makes no sense. It seems to me that this world can be "hell" though I want to hold so strongly to the belief that there is much more: "LOVE". To soothe myself, I tend to listen to the Righteous Brothers "Unchained Melody" or Louis Amstrong "It's a wonderful World".... I know I can't fix the world or prevent people from being humans and or avoid all the pain in the world. I suppose there has to be a balance though it bothers me to know I am part of such a world. I find wonders in the world, such as walking barefoot in warm sand or cut grass, listening to the wondrous chants of birds, watching my dogs interact in nature... there is lots of amazements out there. Though I still can't understand why "painful", "horrible" and especially "unjust" things have to happen. I worry about life and death. Why? I don't know.
In truth, I feel loss, as I feel I cannot tell others my worries as I fear being judged and seen as depressed. I don't feel depressed, I feel restless. I wish I could say that I am in bliss though I can't feel at peace when I feel I am spoiled while others out there are suffering. I wish I suppose I could save the world from within its destructions.
I wonder why do others like I are born this way, aware of death and pain, why are we so sensitive? Are we aware so we may try to fix it? Others around us seem to be wearing "sunglasses" protecting them from darkness. I am not saying others don't worry though they seem to worry about shallow things such as things that don't have a life or death condition. Are they not aware of others out in the world? Am I insane, crazy for the way my mind wonders and rather is aware of so many injustices out there? As much as there is a part of me that wish selfishly I would stop worry about the world, I am grateful I am aware that I am "privilege", I live in a "civilized" country, I am not being raped, I am not seeing my parents die of AIDS, nor am I seeing my child die of a lack of a vaccine or for lack of food. I don't lack food or water. I have a bed and many materialistic things that many would "kill" for. I am not complaining, I simply wish everyone could have the life I have except for my "weird" mind. I wish I could stop the horrible things out there, the suffering of innocents including animals.
It is now passed 2 am and I still cannot fix the world. Then why can't I accept it? Why do I wish so strongly I could fix the world? Make it fair for all to not ever suffer? Why do I think this way?

Anxiety and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

According to researches, individuals with Asperger's tend to have higher anxiety than most people. To quote from Asperger syndrome and anxiety - a guide to successful stress management: "In the general literature on Asperger's, researchers agree anxiety is a major issue for our population." (chap. 1) I confess I have been diagnosed with two anxiety disorders, beside Asperger's and I also have been diagnosed as suffering from Post-Traumatic stress disorder. Anxiety is something I struggled to accept and understand. I am still trying to shed more lights on it for myself. To put this in layman's terms, I struggle to comprehend the feeling of being anxious, worried about everything was not something all surrounding me experienced. I didn't see it as a problem, I mean I have always been that way. Hence, when others would say "you need to relax", "you are too tensed, just relax", I didn't understand. I use to think "what are they talking about? I am fine, I am relax, I am just watching TV."

As I recently was diagnosed, I was informed by the doctor that I suffer from two anxiety disorders. I confess I thought it was a joke. I mean, I have always been that way, worrying about everything. I recall being a child and worrying daily about everything including the reactions of others to my behavior or words, being aware that my parents may die hence wishing I would see them at end of day... Now, I am told not all worry that way, that something is wrong with I: I have anxiety, a disorder. I don't mean to say that most don't experience some form of anxiety, such as stress, though I mean, Anxiety as it dominates my life. As in, I felt I have lived my life in fear (which is often what I have said to friends and family to express how I felt). Reality hit me hard. As you can imagine and comprehend (if familiar with Asperger), I had to understand everything about it before agreeing to just take medication to fix my anxiety. I wanted to know what is anxiety, how does it affect my body, is it harmful to others around me, how do I treat it... I admit I have an abhorrence to taking medication for anything as I comprehend many medications hide side effects. Worst in my opinion, if I need to take medication on a regular basis, how will it affect me on the long run. So here I am, I sought out information, I just acquired a book on the matter: "Asperger syndrome and anxiety - a guide to successful stress management" by Nick Dubin. I just read the first chapter. I am not going to give you a summary though I simply wish to share views as it made me rethink things. 

I comprehend now that I suffer from anxiety, I also know I have PTSD from my unusual childhood (my mother is an alcoholic and was a mean drunk - verbally and physically). Anyhow, I want to get better, I don't want to keep hearing from others: "chill", "just relax"... it really ticks me off, rubs me on the wrong side. 

Anxiety is something that is consuming me. I don't want to be on "flight mode" ready to "fight" all the time. I feel constantly exhausted. I want to live life instead of living in constant fear. I suppose I want to learn to enjoy life, stop worrying about every little things. 

I understand now that individuals with Asperger's are more likely to be affected by anxiety and even develop PTSD as we struggle to understand certain traumatic experiences. We replay them and fear it will happen again. I admit I tend to assume it something occurs once, it is more likely to reoccur. As most people made me feel shamed, I assume others will to. As a result, I chose to withdraw to survive and avoid feeling shamed for my awkward social behavior. 

Anger and frustration or simply tired?

Since my recent official diagnose, I feel not only overwhelmed, sad and angry: I feel as if now I can be understood. However, I do admit I can't help but feel a bit irritated at the whole world. I was blamed, shamed for my odd behavior though now it feels so unjust: I didn't act oddly on purpose. I feel as if I have been wronged by so many including my own family who made me feel shamed and at odd. I resent society for trying so hard to fit me into a mold as to make me like most. In many aspects, we are all different, no doubt about it though I can't help but think and feel as if individuals who are part of any minorities feel left out to fend for themselves. I may have a lot going on for myself: I am alive, live in a country well above poverty, I have all my limbs though not to sound "depressed" or "selfish",  I can't help feeling not necessarily "sorry for myself" but rather feel "wronged" by many. Over the years, as I became my own adult, I expressed or rather attempted to express how I felt: at odd with others. I would tell over and over my dad that I felt so different, I knew since little I didn't fit, I wasn't like others around me, though over and over his answer was: "we know you are different, you are gifted, people who are smart don't do so well socially, it's part of it." Though, his words didn't make me feel any better rather offended me. I felt I was hushed. I was told "stop "complaining"" you are smarter than most and you should feel proud of it. I didn't. I felt I was handicapped, I felt lonely as I felt I couldn't connect with others and even worse relate. I felt at odd and I couldn't quite understand why. I blamed myself, hearing that mean voice in my head saying: "can't you be like others", "what is wrong with you", "why can't you feel what others feel", "why don't you relate" ... Today, I feel I can't complain as really on scheme of things, I have nothing to complain about. I am after all very fortunate, I have no real problem. I am not starving in a poor country, watching my loved ones die as I am helpless to save them... However, I think that why it is relative how one feels, I think that any individual strikes to fit with his peers. Knowing and feeling different may not be the worst thing in the scheme of things, though it is certainly painful to internalize. I wish growing up that I was stupid so I would not care nor be aware of my difference. Instead, while I do feel some sort of relief with finally fitting somewhere: I wasn't crazy, I am different: I have asperger hence I do struggle on a daily basis, I feel as if I have been hit with a heavy burden. I can no longer hope that my behavior will pass, it is not an immature phase, I won't ever truly get over my social handicap. I don't have the tools, I lack the capacity to recognize social cues. I may learn to fake it more or learn to bite my tongue more as not to come across as too blunt and hence offensive to some, though I will never truly be allowed to be myself. I will always be labelled as "she is different", she has asperger so she is not like us. I will never be allowed to be me, a person who feels differently, I will be a person who is odd, misunderstood and too often judged harshly as others don't care to comprehend how I feel. I wish I could trade place for one day with many so they could feel how I feel on a daily basis. I am certain many would not last: they would feel overwhelmed. Instead, I know I have been shun over and over, and will struggle as I realize many won't ever understand and relate as I can't fantom the idea of being able to relate to others.
In retrospect, I feel more exhausted than angry, I feel I have been wronged though I also comprehend I am more tired as I feel I am constantly struggling to function. I want to believe that as time goes by and as I come to accept who I am: I can learn to accept myself and be kind to myself as I forgive others for not knowing any better about individuals like I.
I admit though that the idea of being "stupid" feels like it may feel like bliss: I wouldn't care.

Where to begin?

As most women with asperger's syndrome, I was diagnosed late. After 31 years of struggling socially and feeling different, I finally came to know I was not crazy.
As a kid, I was odd to my parents; as a toddler (and I remember it), I was "maniac", I would tuck my blanket under my mattress in my crib then would meticulously organize my stuff animals at the end of my bed inside the crib. Yeah, I wondered all these years, how I could remember so clearly memories as I was a toddler. I can even recall being on my high chair and being fully submerged into my cardboard book as I watched my parents (to be sincere I felt I was observing them). How strange and insane? Today, I finally comprehend it is normal for me.
In kindergarden and elementary school, I recall feeling at odd with my peers. It progressively became worst as I aged. My first year in elementary school, I clearly remember how I felt chastised by my peers as one kid told a joke and I stared without laughing. They all turned and said: "what is wrong with you? why don't you laugh?". I didn't know I had to laugh, it wasn't funny to me. Over the years, I accepted that I analyzed the jokes and don't get them. I told myself as an adult, I must not have a sense of humor. Until I was diagnosed as being "gifted" (high IQ) hence it was common for me to not get jokes. Okay, it made perfect sense. "Being gifted" was my answer to why I was and felt so different. Throughout elementary school, I had no friends, I recall sitting on a bench in the school yard and observing my peers as in my head I wondered so many questions. I suffered a great deal back then, I longed for friends though I dreaded interacting with them, I didn't understand their behaviors. I constantly felt judged and made fun of. So I withdrew. I became a tomboy, it was so much easier. The few activities I did in the school yard involved: playing marbles (you didn't have to talk, you had to be strategic), playing "le jeu de paume" played with a soft ball, taking turns to hit it against the wall (similar to racket ball but without a racket) (again, I did not have to talk). In class, I was bored unless the topic seemed interesting to me: history (some periods were fascinating) and math (algebra was so easy for me, I really enjoyed doing math problem plus not to sound cocky but I would always be done in a few minutes well before anyone else, so I could just read quietly for quite a while and be left alone).
I was good at math, numbers made sense to me. I had a speech impediment, I swallowed syllables. I talked fast. It was so frustrating to have to express myself, even with my own family.
Today, it almost feels as if only my dogs understand me. I still struggle on a daily basis to communicate with people, I feel often drained talking to anyone. It is still very frustrating, which is in part why I don't have "friends". I find even more insulting the fact that the ones closed to me: my parents, my siblings and my husband don't get me. It is almost as if I wish they could swap places with me and feel my struggles. Perhaps then, would they stop being so hard on me.
Today, I know that my obsession of numbers is normal for me. I do "ken ken" and "sudoku" to soothe me down. I am an avid reader, growing up books were my friends. I think in images hence reading became my escape. After elementary school, as I entered our "college and then high school", my refuge was the library. I would read a book every day, I am not exaggerating, I was insomniac. I recall nights my dad would come home past midnight and he would find me up still reading. I was so absorbed by the wonders of words, how together words created a new world in my head. While I was not particularly bright in elementary school except for math or when a subject was interesting. I was lazy, hated doing homework and especially could not memorize by heart those stupid grammar rules to recite. I mean why did I need to recite them word for word, they made absolutely no sense as why it would be important to learn them. I was bored. Anyhow, to my parents' surprise as I entered "college and high school" I became first of my class in pretty much any subject. To their surprise because they never saw me do homework. All I can say is I started to feel stimulated then, I would actually listen though I still read underneath the table, and if it was interesting I wanted to learn, I absorbed the information as it finally made sense. The times I had to actually sit and "study" was with chemistry as I had to understand what the formulas meant. I cannot still to this day just memorize anything if it does make no sense. So I would sit and make sense of these chemistry formulas, I soon discovered that like math, but instead of numbers, it was a sort of equation that had concrete results. So if 1 + 2 = 3 and then 3 - 1 = 2 , as a + b = c and c - a = b, same would apply to these chemistry formulas. Though I actually could picture in my head what was happening (the process of a reaction). I suppose while I could keep going about how it felt for me growing up, this is a brief introduction to how we struggle as kids with asperger's syndrome.