Neurodivergent

Autism, Identity, Neurodiversity

ananswerYou may or may not remember that I made a passing mention, in a This & That post last fall, of reading and relating to a post on the blog Musings of an Aspie. What I didn’t mention after that was that I continued to read Musings of an Aspie, and I continued to see myself in Cynthia Kim’s blog, and it didn’t take me long to begin to really wonder, was I on the autistic spectrum after all?

Meanwhile, I was struggling to understand why I was feeling the way I was. Tired all the time, flaring up with a hot temper at the littlest things. It didn’t make sense to me that I was so exhausted and edgy and irritable even when I was getting enough sleep, even once I pared down my lifestyle to something very manageable and slow paced, even when I scaled back my workload, even as unschooling took a lot of pressure off my parenting, even though I basically love my life and have a great husband and good friends and adore my kids. Why did things still not feel right? And that dissonance was not a new feeling, as in postpartum depression, but something that I’d always felt to some degree, but gradually became too intense to ignore anymore.

In the months between then and now, I read and researched and learned a LOT about autism in women and how that looks different from what most people think autism looks like (for complicated reasons – I can explain more another time). I formed a support group for autistic women and women who, like me, were thinking they might be autistic, where we could share experiences and ask questions and sort everything out in a safe and supportive space. Those new friends of mine have been invaluable – I appreciate them so much.

Finally, I found a local psychologist who specializes in seeing autistic women, and I went to her for an assessment. It’s worth pointing out that this process can be very expensive and I wouldn’t have been able to do it if we hadn’t had the good health insurance that we do – I wish that more people had access to the psychiatric care they need, but it’s not always so easy.

I was incredibly nervous about the assessment – I felt vulnerable and even a little humiliated just by undergoing a psych eval – and was honestly scared that I would not get diagnosed with autism. Why? The idea of being autistic was like a missing piece in my life that suddenly made everything make sense. I was terrified that if it was taken back out of the picture, I would be left with the same old confusing mess as before.

But I did, in fact, receive a diagnosis of autism last week. It’s official. On the long drive home from my final evaluation appointment, I cried tears of relief and release.

I think I also cried a little for all the me’s I’d ever been – the shy little girl, the misfit teen, the lonely young adult – and what could have been if only I’d known then what I know now.

The psychologist also told me that my results showed chronic dysthemia, a low level depression that’s always been with me and explains a lot of why my energy level tends to run so low. In her view, the difference between neurotypical and how neurodivergent a person is tends to get “colored in” by depression and/or anxiety. This made a lot of sense to me as basically my efforts to meet the neurotypical world on its terms every day result in fatigue and vague sense of never being “enough.”

I know this will be surprising to a lot of people, and I understand why – I was surprised when I first realized that I might be autistic. I think this is largely due to the fact that very few people, besides people who are actually autistic, know much about autism – which several people have told me since hearing my news. But I can tell you that for me, it just means a huge weight has lifted off my shoulders. Knowing that I am, in fact, a perfectly normal autistic person, makes everything just slide into place. It’s an answer to a question I didn’t even know I was asking for the first 36 years of my life.

A Month on Creativity

Creativity, Identity, Writing

Erin5four

Drawings I made at age five.

I believe that all people are creative. I know many disagree with that – often it’s the people who think they themselves are not creative. But creating simply means bringing something into the world that was not there before – it might be a drawing or a song, or a mathematical proof, or the execution of a football play, or just a solution to a problem.  Creativity is part of being human. The idea that we are “not very creative” is a story we tell ourselves, and it is false.

I do believe that everyone possesses this well of creative energy. It doesn’t mean that everyone is a genius or a master of something. It doesn’t even mean that everyone has to “do what they love” as a job. It just means that everyone is born with the ability to make something out of nothing. People themselves are works of creation, of course – a baby is a new person who never existed before.

I’ve always taken a special interest in children’s drawings – not just my own or my children’s. Nearly all children begin to draw at some point in their development; it’s a preliterate form of expression that has been with our species since before we invented an alphabet. Before adults begin to interfere with the process, all children – not just the “artists” among them – have a natural sense of composition and form. Ironically, it’s when formal instruction is introduced that children tend to lose that innate sensibility, and trying to get their drawings “right” is something that cuts them off from their own creative powers.

Erin5one

Another of my drawings from when I was five years old.

Last month I was at the local art museum with Mike and the kids and we went to visit the water fountain at the same time that a school group was there drawing the fountain – I would guess they were about second or third graders. I was surreptitiously watching them draw for a few minutes, though it seemed most of them had finished their pictures by the time we arrived. The students whose drawings I loved the most had a kind of confidence and immediacy to them – some done quickly, some undertaken with more care and time, but the best ones to me all possess a sense of freedom and uninhibitedness that can’t be faked.

I saw one girl, on the other hand, who had drawn a few timid lines, looked around at her neighbors, caught me watching her, and began to furiously erase her work until she literally ripped a role in the paper. Past a certain age – maybe kindergarten age? – I think there are always a few of these types of kids in any group. Sometimes they are in fact the Artists of the group who have been singled out by parents or teachers as being “good at drawing,” but sometimes they are at the other end of the ability scale, the ones who have noticed or had pointed out that their drawings don’t look as good as the other kids’.

Later that day when we were in the kids’ art space at the museum, I gestured to the wall of children’s drawings, things that had been done there in the museum and pinned up, and asked Mike to guess which one I liked the best. It wasn’t the most realistic, the painstakingly “shaded” close up of a flower, the most technically advanced, the one that probably 9 out of 10 kids or adults walking by would instantly pick out as best. It was a delightful still life, done in a simple line drawing style, terrifically out of proportion, the perspective nothing close to reality, but it was alive, and made perfect sense in its own little world on the page.

That drawing had the sort of energy that most adult artists try to tap back into for the rest of their lives. When I was a freshman at RISD, my first semester drawing teacher had us sit and scribble in large newsprint pads for the first 20 minutes of every class. We were not to draw anything representational or try to make it look “good,” whatever that might mean. When I was 18, frankly, that exercise was baffling and frustrating to me – I was there to make “good” drawings, why was I scribbling? – but now I totally understand it. To make something good, it must be real, and to make it real, you must let go of making it good. It’s at the heart of why early childhood drawings are so fantastic. They are not focused on making Art, they are purely making.

I’ve decided to write on the theme of creativity in this blog for the month of March. It’s something I’ve been thinking about quite a bit lately. Right now I am still reading and doing the 12 week course for The Artist’s Way and at the same time have also been reading Sir Ken Robinson’s The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything. There is considerable overlap between the two books so it’s been fascinating to read them simultaneously. At the heart of them is the idea that tapping into your passion – whatever form your personal expression of creativity takes – is to tap into your authentic self.

What I Learned From A Week Without Media

Identity

My media brownout is over – one day short, but I’m done. If you missed it the first time or want the full refresher on what the terms of my brownout were, the original post is here. In a nutshell, I avoided watching TV or reading anything – that included books, magazines, blogs, articles, anything – and I kept my Facebook and Twitter use to a bare minimum. I tweeted but did not read my timeline. I updated my Facebook Pages and checked my notifications just to make sure I wasn’t ignoring anyone who needed me but I avoided responding to anything non-essential and did not read my newsfeed.

The purpose of all of this was to stop consuming other people’s words and ideas and focus on producing my own. Perhaps to turn my attention to some things I’ve been wanting to do but haven’t gotten around to.

What I Liked

There were some things I liked about the brownout. I did notice that I felt less distracted, less forgetful, less disorganized, and even in some ways less anxious and depressed – at least for the first few days. I organized the pantry, scrubbed the shower, baked bread, cleaned out some jpegs off the old digital camera.

I played with the kids more, and they definitely liked that – though I think I also snapped at them more because I didn’t get many restorative breaks from playing. I noticed that THEY spent a little less of their time on screen time, which made me realize how subtly my habits affect them, even though I always thought I was just sneaking away to Facebook when they were otherwise occupied.

I did some more writing and drawing than I usually do, though that was partly out of sheer boredom and lack of anything else to do. I got around to some little creative projects I’d wanted to do, like 4 minute daily diaries inspired by Lynda Barry’s Syllabus: Notes from an Accidental Professor.

What I Disliked

On the other hand, there was a lot about this experiment that I disliked. I felt like I was working all the time, because when I wasn’t taking care of other people or the house or my chores, I was writing and drawing. And even though I like writing and drawing, it feels like work. Work that I enjoy, but still work. None of the usual “treats” that I give myself for a hard day’s work were available, I was bored a lot, I ate more, and eventually the daily stress with no outlets really wore on me.

It felt wrong to be totally disengaged from the rest of the world. It seemed selfish and ridiculous to just shout my thoughts into the void without engaging in conversations online. I missed out on things that were actually important even if they were “just” on Facebook – sometimes when stopping in to check notifications I would see a friend having a problem and feel so guilty for not answering their call for support. If I hadn’t cheated I would have missed a pregnancy announcement, a marriage engagement, my brother’s girlfriend’s birthday, and who knows what else!

The thing about social media is it’s called social for a reason. I hated turning my back on it completely. My friends on Facebook and in the blogs I read are not just noise, they’re real people that I care about.

Jonesing

The Hardest Part

I think the hardest part of the day for me was the very end of the day when the kids were asleep and I sat down to relax with Mike. There was no pot of gold waiting for me at 10pm – just more writing, or bed. I did try going to bed earlier, but that didn’t mean I slept better.

Not reading at all was just sad and depressing. I missed my books. Friends would talk about books, Instagram pictures of books, even LEND me books, and I felt like an alcoholic trying to drink a soda water at the bar. It was just terrible. If I am addicted to reading, that’s an addiction I can live with. If anything, taking a break from reading made me appreciate reading even more. A life without words is no life for me.

What did I learn?

I did not feel like the brownout enhanced my creativity directly. Already by the end of the third day I felt like my well was running dry. To me, taking in other people’s ideas is part of the creative process. Other people’s writing stirs up memories and ideas; without them, I stagnated. The brownout did, however, free up time for me to write and draw more, and I think that having a more organized space indirectly made me feel more creative.

I noticed, by not being on my phone for all the little boring waiting-around moments of the day, how much everyone else is on their phones. I felt a little smug and annoyed but also very aware that I was partly just jealous and would be doing the same if I could – like being a pregnant lady or designed driver at a drunken party. I think a lot of people fantasize about disconnecting from the internet, but it hit me that in 2015 that means disconnecting from the world we live in, and that’s pretty unavoidable.

I learned that being on Facebook for much of the day definitely has negative effects for me. It makes me more distracted and spacey, I get less done, I have less energy, and I think that being connected to other people’s problems for too many hours a day made me feel depressed. I liked how it felt to be off Facebook all day – but I didn’t like NEVER being there. So I think I will just go on Facebook at night from now on.

My New Plan

In a general sense, I found a media rhythm to my days that felt natural. When my options were severely limited, I could think more clearly about how I really wanted to spend my time. Here’s what I came up with:

In the morning I think it’s good to be available as much as I can. Of course I check email every morning just in case there is something time sensitive and/or work related. I have breakfast with the kids, play with them, and write when they don’t need me, since I tend to have the most creative energy before noon. I putter around the house a bit, do some chores and some little projects if I have any. We go out if we have somewhere to go or something to do.

In late afternoon when the kids are usually vegging out by themselves, I need downtime. I’ll stay off Facebook still, but it would be a good time to read blogs and books.

I figure after 6pm going on social media is fine. Sometimes I like to write, or read blogs, or if I’m just beat I can look at Facebook.

There always comes a point just before bedtime when I am done with everything and the only thing I want to do, until the kids are ready to actually get in bed, is read a book. And that is what I will do, just as I always used to. This time sucked during my brownout – I usually just sat and stared into space, not thinking about anything.

After the kids are in bed, it’s my time with Mike. That can include TV time, since I did not feel like we had an awesome time without it! We are usually too tired to have scintillating conversations at 10pm, and you can’t do that other thing every single night (well, we can’t). It’s fun to enjoy TV together.

My time after that, if I’m not quite ready to sleep, is mine. Facebook, reading, TV, mine mine mine. I don’t feel bad about that one bit. Going to bed listening to white noise was sad and dreary. I didn’t sleep better and I hated it!

Youwantme

Would I recommend a brownout?

Do I think you should try this? Yes, with caveats. I definitely did not think I needed a FULL week to get what I needed to get out of the experiment. I started writing this wrap-up post on Day 4 and finished it on Day 5. On Day 6 I was really starting to reach my limits, and cheating more and more. I cheated to watch the Superbowl with Mike, which was fun, and after that it was over for me.

I don’t think that I got much out of not reading books. I guess it probably would have been less effective if I had simply filled up my day with MORE reading than I normally do, and continued to exist in a state of semi-distraction all day and night long. So if you can avoid doing that, I see no need to stop reading. It did not give me more creative ideas or energy and if anything did the opposite.

I think it’s worthwhile to give up Facebook and Twitter entirely for a short period of time, maybe a few days. It gives you a better sense of how much time you do want to spend on them, which almost certainly won’t be NEVER, but probably not as much as you were before.

As for TV, meh… that depends on your TV habits. If you feel you watch too much, try giving it up for a few days. I didn’t think I watched too much before and I still don’t.

If you do try this, please holler at me in some way – on Facebook or Twitter or in comments here – to let me know how it goes! I would love to hear about what you got out of your media brownout.

Media Brownout?

Books, Identity

I’m reading a classic book about unlocking your creativity – it’s called The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. The format is a 12 week long course with some reading from the book and a number of exercises that are supposed to help you “unblock” your artistic ability. Since starting the course, I have been writing three longhand pages of free writing each morning, taking myself on one “artist date” a week (if I can manage it) (the “date” just means going out ALONE and treating myself to a nice time), and doing many of the thinking/writing exercises.

For week four, Julia has asked me to take a break from consuming media. Her book predates the Internet, so she doesn’t mention it, but I think it’s safe to say she would include that in her prescription, in addition to taking a week off from watching TV, and also…

Reading.

She knows that the break from reading is shocking. She claims that blocked artists tend to be addicted to reading because it helps them stuff down their own creativity. I don’t know about that. If that’s true, I’ve been a blocked artist since I learned to read. I LOVE reading. I love books. Reading is like breathing to me. I MIGHT DIE.

Also, I’m kind of resentful slash dubious about the idea of a media break for myself, because without Internet, TV, or books, what kind of downtime am I going to get? That’s pretty much all I’ve got going on as far as relaxation and me time. Julia thinks that if we aren’t reading and watching the tubes we’re finally going to get to all those hobbies we’ve been meaning to try. Uhhhh, look, Julia. I am not running out to taking surfing lessons any time soon.

I’m a little unsure about the whole Artist’s Way endeavor, really, because I’m not so convinced that I AM a blocked artist. I feel pretty in touch with my creativity. What is preventing me from creating more than I do is a little thing called parenting. And I’m not about to give that up.

Still, I’m trying out the course, albeit slightly tailored to the demands of my current lifestyle. I have to admit that I have noticed an eerie synchronicity between some of the stages she talks about and things that are actually happening to me. The emotional phases, the vivid dreams, etc.

media

My weeks for the course run from Tuesday to Tuesday, so I started yesterday. Here are the terms of my brownout, tentatively so far. I put a question mark in my post title because I am not at all certain I’m going to stick with this for a week. Also, sad but true: if I can’t read OR watch TV on my phone, I really have no idea how I’m going to fall asleep. I haven’t done that probably since I was a toddler.

Facebook. I’m off my personal Facebook feed for the week. I can still get messages to my Messenger app, and I have the Pages app to monitor the Pages for my blogs and other projects (uhhh I have a few!). I’m permitting myself to scan my notifications just to make sure I am not tagged in anything urgent – but no responding unless it’s truly urgent!

Twitter. I’m tweeting here and there and responding to tweets (again, I count this as necessary blogger presence). I’m not reading my feed. I don’t look at Twitter all that much anyway so it’s no big sacrifice.

Blogs. I am writing blog posts (obviously), since I think that can be counted as creative work! I am going to take the week off reading blogs. I feel a little guilty about it, seems selfish of me to ask people to read mine when I’m not reading theirs, but I’ll catch up at week’s end.

Instagram. I haven’t been using Instagram that much and I don’t spend much time on it when I do, so I’m keeping it on my okay list. If only to record the events of the week.

Pinterest. I use Pinterest so seldom that I almost forgot to put it in the list. Meh.

TV. I am giving myself a husband loophole here. We usually watch ONE show together after the kids are asleep. I know there are other things we could do, but we are usually pretty fried by 10 pm. If we don’t watch any shows all week, what’s going to happen is he is going to surf social media while I stare at the walls, or… take up knitting in silence? Maybe I could sit and write. Hm. That might work.

Music. Julia does not forbid music, which gets the side eye from me, because what if I were a blocked musician? I’m not, though, so music stays.

Books. I… guess I will try this. I’m not happy about it. I might quit. I’m mostly just curious to see if I can do it and if I will magically start writing a novel if I don’t have any stories coming in to my brain for a week. It might even be good timing since I am not currently reading any library books, BUT I just had a hold come in on a book I’ve been waiting for for months. I might be able to read it in a week after my brownout is over. I won’t give up reading to the kids.

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