People Just Don't Get It

Note: This is an angry rant, so there will be some swearing. If you're offended by that sort of thing, just read my other blog posts.

This post is an angry rant, because I am pretty fucking angry. It's hard enough to keep a happy, optimistic face for this blog. I want this blog to come across happy and optimistic because I want to give parents hope that everything is going to be okay. But I have to be honest. There is a lot in my life that isn't okay. Sometimes I get so frustrated and angry that I break down crying, thinking, "Where do I even begin to fix this?" And by "this" I mean being financially independent like my peers. I am turning 34 in October, and I still don't have a career or even a decent-sized apartment, let alone one that I can afford on my own. Everybody else my age I know-- and many ten years younger-- has a career, has a decent-sized apartment (or a house, if they're in the suburbs), and doesn't need help from their parents to make ends meet.

"Oh, but at least you're not starving in Africa. You don't know how lucky you are." You know what? You're right. I'm not starving in Africa. So fucking what? That doesn't make my frustration and anger any less real (It's a logical fallacy; I forget what it's called). I grew up relatively privileged, in a white, middle-class household with educated parents. I lived in a relatively affluent suburb in Pennsylvania. I went to college and grad school. Given my background, I should have a career now and be financially independent. But if you have Asperger's Syndrome, growing up privileged doesn't mean shit unless you are born into wealth. I still have to get a career. I have a Master's Degree and am making $12.75 an hour at a temporary work-at-home job. What is my job? Transcribing. Mind-numbing transcribing that any idiot with a GED can do. And because I lost my last two jobs, each after a paltry four months (in both cases they said I was too awkward and made our clientele uncomfortable), to stay in Boston I had to give up my spacious, one-bedroom apartment and downgrade to a studio. It's $1200 a month, and the only way to get any lower in Boston is to live in a basement apartment not much bigger than a walk-in closet with no windows. Even then, the lowest the rent goes for something like that is $1000. The other option is to get roommates, which can bring each person's rent as low as $700-$800 per month. But all my roommate situations in the past have been disasters. My parents even said they would rather help me pay for my own little corner of the universe than take the chance that I would get into some ridiculous conflict with roommates and then have to move out (moving, of course, isn't free).

I know that I'm more intelligent than my employment history and living circumstances reflect but that makes no fucking difference unless you have pristine social skills. And research has shown that the decision to hire someone an any job is almost entirely based on how well they think she'll "fit in" with her coworkers, much more than if she has the talent to do the job. I'm not the kind of person who fits in. It's not that I haven't tried, it's that I can't. Making friends is not an issue for me because I live in a diverse city and can easily find social misfits/intellectual nerds who'd rather talk about psychologically intense topics than how someone's third cousin once removed is doing. But most people would rather talk about the latter, and that's what they expect you to do on the job, even if it is not related to the job description. People know when I'm faking it. I can only feign interest in somebody's third cousin once removed before the holes in my mask start to form. I then have to retreat to my little corner of the universe and do my work. But no. Most high paying jobs expect you to work as a team. I work in groups with about the same ease and naturalness as an asexual person behaves like John F. Kennedy.

"Oh, well have you tried this? Or that? Or the other thing?" Yes, of course I have. I've finished my undergrad 11 years ago. You think I haven't fucking tried? Of course I have, and I've run into one brick wall after another.

Oh, and people have told me over and over that I come off as harsh, angry, argumentative, and even cold.

"You know, the way you're talking to me when you're upset, you're real intense and argumentative and harsh. Maybe that's what's gotten you in trouble at work." No! That's not what has happened! I'm letting my guard down with you. At work I try to hide these emotions. People have told me I'm too "intense" or "harsh" or "argumentative" even when I'm happy or joking around. It's like all I have to do to fucking offend someone is open my fucking mouth, even if I just ask how they are! So you know what the other option is, to make sure I don't offend anyone or make anyone uncomfortable? Not talk. And then I become a fucking stiff and they still feel uncomfortable, but for different reasons.

"Well, you know, you do tell inappropriate and sometimes shocking jokes. Do you do that at work?" 

Yes, I have a raunchy, macabre, and downright absurd sense of humor. I also love saying things for shock value just to see how people react. But you know, I'm not Rainman. I tell the "shock value" jokes you're talking about to friends or on online social networks under an anonymous name, not in a professional setting. My friends laugh, and people online click "like" or write "Hahaha!" I learned years and years ago that there's a time and a place for these things, and work sure as hell isn't it. People at work have called me "inappropriate" for reasons that I'm not sure of but that have nothing to do with the jokes I tell outside of work.

"Well you're very interested in the work of Richard Dawkins and Dr. Kevorkian. You bring those guys up all the time. Are you talking about them at work? You can't do that, you know. They're too controversial."

Yes, I fucking know that I can't bring up these guys or their work in a job setting-- especially not Dr. Kevorkian-- because people at work represent a diverse range of sociopolitical and religious beliefs and I don't know these people well enough to have such discussions with them. I don't feel deprived if I can't bring up Richard Dawkins or Dr. Kevorkian, either. I am at work to do work. Of course, the funny thing is I've heard radically conservative people at work bring up their shocking views without getting in trouble. 

"Maybe you are talking about Richard Dawkins and Dr. Kevorkian and you don't realize it?"

I think I'm fucking aware of what topics I'm bringing up. Don't patronize me.

When people-- friends, relatives, and even my shrink-- say these things to me, they clearly don't get it. I know they're trying to help me, reaching for the lowest hanging fruit, so to speak. But after a while it's like I'm hearing a mantra, a list of phrases from a pull-string doll. And yes, when I get frustrated enough, I do explode and curse a blue streak (it upsets them, but they know not to take it personally and I do apologize later). But they don't get it. They really don't. Why? They're coming from a neurotypical perspective, that the only way that I as a white, privileged middle-class American could be in this situation is if there was something I haven't tried. The fact that even my shrink gives these obvious suggestions is very telling. Hell, even my parents only started to "get it" in the past five years or so!

This is my life as an adult with Asperger's. Don't get me wrong: I am happy most of the time. But then sometimes (like last night when I was talking to my shrink) old wounds get reopened. No, they get reopened, have salt poured in them, and are pissed in. And I get angry and explosive and cry. Sometimes I just can't take it. Working out usually helps a little, but recently I injured myself while running and I can't do much of anything in the way of vigorous exercise until I heal. 

I'm angry. I'm hurting. I'm cynical. I'm frustrated. I have Asperger's Syndrome.

I'm Honest and Your Baby is Ugly

Lately on Facebook I have seen babies, babies, babies, and more babies. As far as I'm concerned-- and at the risk of, perhaps, alienating half my audience-- newborn babies generally look the same and look ugly (And no, I was not exempt from this rule as an infant). Inevitably, when somebody posts a million pictures of his/her newborn on Facebook, a flurry of "He's so cute," or "She's perfect!" dominates the comments sections of these pictures. I seriously wonder how many people genuinely are honest when they post these comments. Maybe a few, maybe even most, but not all. In fact, it's largely a social grace, a lie-- and presumably the new parents know that they're merely hearing a social grace rather than an honest opinion-- and perhaps a form of reciprocal altruism that is prevalent in social species.


Don't let the title of the blog entry fool you-- I'm not going to write, "Your baby is ugly" when I see pictures of babies posted on Facebook. But I'm not going to tell a boldfaced lie and say that s/he's "perfect" or "cute." If I want to be supportive, I'll say things that I really mean, such as, "I know you'll be a good mom/dad." 


Quite frankly, routine social graces feel phony to me, and I hate small talk. Dr. Jack Kevorkian once commented that he disliked small talk and also said that he hated how people routinely lie to each other in ways that I just described; these complaints are common among people with Asperger's syndrome which is one of many reasons why I think Dr. Kevorkian had AS. Call me cold, but when I go to work and bump into someone I barely know, I don't care how they are. No, that doesn't  mean I wish them ill, but I am really ambivalent to how they're doing, and I think if people were more honest with themselves they would agree. If somebody I barely know asks me how I am, I say, "Hey, what's going on?" That more casual greeting feels less phony to me than, "How are you?" At a job interview, I do say, "How are you?" because, unfortunately, successful job interviews are laced with phoniness. 


Is it cold for me to say that I am ambivalent that a casual acquaintance's mother is in the hospital? Here, I do conform to this social grace by saying, "Is she going to be okay?" because it is a profound situation, but I forget about it two seconds later. Does that sound insensitive?


It occurred to me recently that if I managed to do something to change the world for the better, ultimately my happiness about this would be in sheer pride more than, "I'm glad that other people are doing better," or "I'm glad that they are suffering less." Although I would be glad about these things, ultimately it would be a real boost for my ego. What about that? Does that sound selfish? I'm reminded of another Dr. Kevorkian moment. In 1998, when Dr. Kevorkian was on 60 Minutes after he injected one of his patients directly, he told the host, Mike Wallace, "I'm fighting for me, Mike. Me. This is a right I want. I'm 71... I'll be 71. You don't know what'll happen when you get older. I may end up terribly suffering. I want some colleague to be free to come help me [to die] when I say the time has come. That's why I'm fighting, for me. Now that sounds selfish. And if it helps everybody else, so be it." Mike Wallace, and many other interviewers, also said that when they talked to Kevorkian privately, they found him to be a very compassionate man. So why would he say something brazen like that if he didn't care about his patients? Obviously I can't get inside his mind, but I think in those four sentences he summed up what I'm saying here-- You may care about other people, but in the end you're the person you care about the most. He cared about his patients, but ultimately he wanted the right to die for himself. I think he was just more honest about his motives than most people in his situation would be.


Reciprocal altruism is, I think, why we pretend to be incredibly upset that the mother of somebody who we barely know is in the hospital or that we think somebody's ugly baby is cute. Yes, caring about the person, even to a minimal extent (depending on your relationship with them) may be part of it, but in the end it's about you. If you pretend to be more upset than you are about an acquaintance's mother being in the hospital, that person will like you better and be more likely to help you if you need it. Same thing if you pretend to think somebody's ugly baby is cute. 


And how many of you who cry at funerals really do it because you feel badly for the person rather than that you simply miss them? I think if people were more honest they would admit that they cry at funerals for themselves, not for the deceased. 


I think people with Asperger's are just more honest about their motives and how they really feel and are more aware of it because these social graces were not something that they acquired unconsciously but something that had to be taught to them.


There is no such thing as true altruism.