![]() |
| And a good thing, too, because the road basically looks like this, too. |
![]() |
| See the pretty patterning? That is definitely not supposed to be there. |
![]() |
| And a good thing, too, because the road basically looks like this, too. |
![]() |
| See the pretty patterning? That is definitely not supposed to be there. |
Humans tend to treat other people with the assumption that they\’re just like us. For neurotypical people, that can be a safe assumption. For autistic people, it often isn\’t. An autistic person, when asking if their clothes look good, may desire an honest answer. A neurotypical person, asking the question, may have already decided they look good and just desires agreement or is fishing for compliments. If either person gives the other their personally desired response, hurt feelings and misunderstandings may occur.
This is complicated by the fact that autistic people may have face-blindness or simply difficulty processing faces, postures, and other emotional \”tells.\” So a neurotypical person may be clearly projecting their sadness, anger, or pain, but due to missing those cues, the autistic person may not recognize that emotional state, and therefore cause further upset. Again, not from lack of empathy or ability to empathize, but because of the difficulty in perceptual processing.
Another complication is personal suffering. Autistic people have higher rates of depression, anxiety, sensory sensitivities, chronic pain, epilepsy, and other life-complications than neurotypical people. If you\’re already struggling to make it through life, you\’re going to have a harder time noticing or doing anything about other peoples\’ emotions. That\’s true for any person, anywhere.
Personally? I found out in the last two years that one of my friends from college had assumed I had no empathy, right up to the day she told me. That was both flabbergasting and kind of hurtful. I had done many empathy-spurred actions in her presence, during college and afterwards. I wasn\’t the most in-tune, thoughtful friend in college, but I did and still do have a functioning empathy sense. I took actions to ease the lives of the people around me. If someone near me was sad or anxious, I noted it and, if I couldn\’t help, at least I tried not to make it worse.
But that friend, she spent at least 7 years believing I had no empathy. She is neither stupid nor evil. She\’s actually a pretty cool, fun, interesting person, and having that belief was really out of character for her. But that\’s the power of authorities saying \”autistic people don\’t have empathy.\” It makes people stop thinking.
I don\’t claim to be amazing at social interactions and emotional perception, but I will contend I have empathy \’til I\’m blue in the face, thank you. I think my parents will agree, as would my spouse and my friends (including the mistaken one, now). And I think it\’s true for any autistic person. Some of us just have a harder time expressing it, or seeing opportunities to express it.
It\’s a tough world full of people that don\’t make sense. We are still fully human, though. Like one of those Intel stickers, each autistic person comes with a little invisible sticker that says \”Empathy inside.\”
We\’ll tackle these from most intensive to least intensive, for ease of understanding.
To make things more confusing, an autistic person may focus so hard on projecting one facet, like facial expression, that the others fall by the wayside. So their face might be set in the almost-smile that\’s correct for a casual friendly conversation, but their posture might scream \”discomfort.\” Or their tone of voice and word choice might say, \”I am cautiously positive about this idea\” in a business meeting, but their arms are crossed and their face is blank, which conveys the opposite.
The only innately positive thing that comes to mind when considering these intensive forms of communication is this: there are so many social cues involved, that even if you miss more than half of them, you might still get the gist.
Buckle up, this is my very least favorite form of communication. Generally if I have to be on the phone, I am wishing myself dead when I\’m not immediately handling the conversation at hand. Sometimes I can even multitask and wish myself dead while handling the conversation at hand.
Why? Well, for me, phone calls straddle the line between face-to-face communication (too much info, but at least I can miss some things and still get the gist) and text messages (where all you have to deal with are the words). And they do so in the worst way.
You have the person\’s tone of voice, which you need to process, but you do so without the benefit of seeing their face. Is that a bored tone of voice, or are they simply tired? You don\’t know for sure. Maybe you would if you could see their face (also bored, or perhaps puffy-eyed from lack of sleep), or see their posture (rubbing their eyes, or crossed arms because of annoyance?). I spend a lot of time trying to process that information, guessing and second-guessing, while trying to relay whatever opinions, directions, or information the other person needs.
Their environment is even more of a mystery to you than with video calls. Beyond audio cues (crying children, raucous music, or perhaps road sounds like car horns), you really have no idea what\’s going on with the person and their life during this conversation. If that information is needed, it must be either intuited via those cues or communicated verbally. This can lead to having a sensitive conversation in the middle of a public hallway, with no easy way to escape somewhere safer, which is really not ideal. And even worse, the other party may have literally no idea that is the case, and thus unknowingly subject you to a great deal of stress and embarrassment.
The other main reason I think I hate phone calls so much, though, is that they\’re extremely disruptive. Unless I set it to Do Not Disturb (which is not a good idea in case of emergencies), I can expect my phone to go off with no thought for my concentration, the importance of what I\’m doing, or the difficulty of my day. The person (if it\’s not a robo-caller) on the other end usually has no idea how I\’m doing, or what I\’m doing. And they may not care, either.
I deeply resent things that demand my entire attention, regardless of my current circumstances. I dislike being linked to online videos and being expected to watch them immediately for the same reason.
The last reason I hate phone calls and other voice services, I suppose, is the context in which I\’ve most often had to use them: calling on health insurance issues, contacting doctor\’s offices, setting car repair appointments, rescheduling a disrupted day as quickly as possible with the other affected parties, and managing money-related issues. I dislike doing literally everything on that list. All of it is necessary, but none of it is enjoyable.
So basically, please never call me unless you literally have no other option. See below for better options. Thank you.
We are now entering more friendly territory for many autistic people, especially me. This is the best method to use when contacting me. Examples of this type of communication include text messages on your phone, Gtalk, Facebook Messenger, iMessage (iOS), WhatsApp, and Discord. There are many more.
Text messages and other forms of instant messaging require careful word choice to get your point across, but are very forgiving in terms of information processing. As the receiver, you are required to read the words, and consider the context in which those words came to you. Perhaps the sender will also have helped you out by providing emojis/emoticons to set a particular mood associated with their words.
The environment that each participant experiences is still a mystery, but because there is no plain way the participants could know each others\’ environments, any reasonable communicator assumes the other doesn\’t know that information, and acts accordingly. If it\’s relevant, it must be communicated. If it\’s not, the conversation excludes any assumption of that knowledge. For example, if you\’re aware of the fatality rate for texting and driving, and someone texts you, you might text them back: \”Driving, gimme 5 min.\” That person will then know it is unsafe to continue the conversation, and await your response that it\’s safe.
Tone of voice, posture, circumstances, are all irrelevant unless communicated within the conversation. This, to me, is freeing. If the person wants me to understand a thing, they have to say it. They can\’t just rely on the use of magical mind-reading abilities (social intuition) that neurotypical people develop and use in the previous forms of communication. Text messages level that playing field and make it so you have to mean what you say and say what you mean. If you don\’t, that\’s on you, and you\’re being a poor communicator.
The other nice thing about this form of communication is that you can look back at what was said. In verbal, video, and in-person forms of communication, there is the frequent tendency to fall into \”he said, she said\” interpretations of what was said. No one save some very gifted people can remember every word that\’s said in a conversation. Instead, most people remember how they felt about what was said, how they interpreted what was said, and perhaps the precise wording for something particularly important or interesting.
But when it comes to, say, a task list, an important discussion with your spouse about the relationship, or important insurance information, having the possibility for fuzziness and \”he said, she said\” is disastrous. You may lose essential information, and both parties may think they got their points across, but neither side understood the other. With the ability to look back at the chat log, you can reference what was said, and ask for clarification as needed. This is great for assuaging anxiety and ensuring correctness of action and understanding.
Also great for assuaging anxiety, the conversation can be a quick back and forth affair, like an in person conversation, or a more relaxed \”1 message every hour when you\’re available\” interaction, for conversations that aren\’t time-sensitive. Or anything in between. Instant messages let you find a stopping point in what you\’re doing, and then give the other person your full attention, rather than demanding you drop everything the instant the person rings and then suffer being distracted through the entire conversation.
Also like text messages, your ability to read posture, facial expression, and tone of voice is entirely irrelevant. You do still have to read the tone of the email, which is kind of like tone of voice. But I personally find it much easier to handle. Your experience may vary.
For those anyone not immediately familiar: a meta-analysis, such as the one here, is when the researchers look up all relevant research to a particular question, like, \”does IQ predict success in autistic adults?\” They then take all this research and run through it with a fine-toothed comb, checking what kinds of experiments and research were done, what their results were, and what statistical analysis was done. The end result is something like a more scientific version of asking a dozen wise people for a solution to a particular problem. Any patterns in results are noted, in hopes of getting a more thorough answer to the question.
Meta-analyses are important because, after the 30th-ish study has been published on a question, it becomes really hard for anyone to remember the results of all of them. This is particularly true if multiple authors and institutions are involved, which is nearly always the case.
Dehumanizing word choice and type of study aside, the article at least makes the useful point I mentioned above: that there are many kinds of difficulties, and having a high IQ does not save you from them. The researchers isolated four places autistic adults can have difficulties:
Theory of Mind is the skill of recognizing and attributing different beliefs, wants, skills, knowledge, and intents to yourself and as well as others. It\’s recognizing and overcoming Human Error #1 (\”everyone is just like me\”). It\’s recognizing that your friend knows more about a particular subject, or that your spouse can be upset even though you aren\’t. It\’s important to note that just because a person has theory of mind, doesn\’t mean they\’re immune to Human Error #1. It\’s #1 for a reason.
Emotional Knowledge and Recognition is more or less what it says on the tin. Some people, including some autistic people, have trouble putting words to the emotions they\’re feeling. I like the charts found on this page. Such people may also have trouble identifying emotions in others. The difficulty recognizing emotions can be so great that even simple emotions, like anger or fear, might be missed or misnamed, with the person assuming they or the other person is calm. This can result in very upset people, because basic emotion-reading and expression is an assumed skill in the current time.
Processing Speed is how fast you understand and can use new information. This trait is classically associated with low IQ, but I can personally attest that it affects people with higher IQs as well. Like a computer processor, the faster you can handle incoming information, the easier you can handle situations both old and new. Having slower processing speeds can make it hard to hold conversations or respond effectively to new information at your job.
Verbal Learning and Memory is how quickly and how well you process verbal directions or instructions. Many autistic people like to have such instructions written out to circumvent this issue, but in some workplaces and in more freeform interactions, this isn\’t always possible. Your supervisor or friends may simply expect you to remember the set of directions in order, and then do them. If you have trouble keeping more than two verbal directions in your head at once, having someone give you 3 or more is going to be a waste. Asking for directions from a local is the obvious example of this. (\”Oh, the mall? Turn right at the T, drive \’til you see the burger joint, go left at the billboard, then left at the bank, and then you\’re there!\”)
Any and all of these factors can make it difficult to hold a job and interact with other adults successfully. And all aren\’t part of the \”typical\” understanding of autism.
(Pst! If you like seeing the latest autism-relevant research, visit my Twitter, which has links and brief comments on studies that were interesting, but didn\’t get a whole Reading the Research article about them.)
I was gratified, while reading this book, to note the diversity in the authors and their chosen subjects. The spectrum is a diverse place, so it behooves books like this to bring that diversity to their pages. This doesn\’t always happen in many mainstream publishers, but as ASAN published this book, they made a point of including diversity. And they succeeded.
One of the authors is black, and explains the kinds of complications that identity and appearance can add into a person\’s life. Another is clearly on the lower end in terms of verbal communication skills. Some of the authors are from other countries. Subjects range from burnout to work, and also include personal identity, depression, fighting for quality healthcare, sensory sensitivities, and assistive technology. All the subjects struck me as highly relevant to my life, and the lives of others. And each person had good insight on their chosen subjects.
The book is also diverse in the tone of its essays. Many are hopeful to some degree, but some are more matter-of-fact and neutral, or even tinged with the very depression they\’re writing about. This, too, is true to life. I think most people experience both hope and despair in life, and the more complications and difficulties you experience, the harder it is to hold onto hope. If you reach adulthood without a diagnosis, the chances are excellent that you struggled quite a bit to get there, and experienced a fair bit of despair. So while I wasn\’t overly happy reading the sadder accounts, they made perfect sense to me.
Actually, that\’s perhaps the most interesting thing to me about the essays in this book. While the authors of these essays share my diagnosis, in some cases I have few things in common with them. Yet each and every one of them was able to explain their actions, even ones like \”crawling into the ductwork of their church,\” in such a way that it made perfect sense given their circumstances. We make sense.
We make sense. Maybe we aren\’t understandable to other people. Maybe our actions don\’t fit into the accepted norms. But they do make sense.
Growing up, I was often told, directly or indirectly, that I didn\’t make sense, that I was wrong, and being a pain in the rear, or just being rude. I studied and learned from those experiences, shaping myself and my behavior to be \”acceptable,\” but it was never a perfect camouflage. And reading all these books from frustrated parents of autistic children, it\’s easy to fall into seeing a behavior, like stimming, in one particular way. Specifically, a very negative way. A way that assumes there\’s no valid reason to have the behavior, and seeks to stifle it until it dies. And then people wonder why things get worse instead of better.
So, I guess, if weird autistic behaviors ever confused you, this might be a good book to read. It makes stuff like that understandable, if you\’re willing to learn.
I loved this book. It wasn\’t the most cheerful read I\’ve ever had, but it was highly meaningful and relevant. It presented information and insights I haven\’t seen anywhere else, on subjects that are highly relevant to living with or around autism. It\’s going on my bookshelf where I\’ll be able to see it and read it again.
1. Create and keep a buffer for at least 10 months of the year. Preferably the entire year after I rebuild the buffer.
2. Finish the arduous and exhausting job of house-hunting, get moved into a house or condo, and stop having to give a crap about the whole thing.
3. Become better at managing a social network, and network with several autism researchers in pursuit of increasing my chances at a career in autism, and if nothing else, helping nudge research away from \”what causes autism\” toward \”what helps autistic people?\”
4. Keep steady on the 2 days a week exercise with my parents, and find, buy, and use a recumbent exercise bike this year for the 3rd day per week.
This was kind of a mixed bag. I definitely succeeded at part 1, except for during holidays and such when it wasn\’t really an option to do the classes. Over the late spring, summer, and early fall, I well and easily exceeded this goal, though not in the way I\’d planned. I took my bike and went outdoors with it 3 days a week, using the bike trails that run a sneeze away from my new home. So I had a 5 day a week exercise schedule while the weather was nice.
But when the weather turned poorer, I stopped biking outside. Unfortunately, I find biking outside much more tolerable than using the recumbient bike inside. I\’d meant to have something else to fill the third day, like yoga or some other indoor exercise, but between the mess that was October and the holidays afterwards, that third day just really didn\’t happen.
I think it could happen, if I re-committed to it. But I really need to do something with myself besides trying to use the computer and the exercise bike at the same time. I can do it, but it\’s clumsy and unpleasant and makes me not want to repeat the experience each time. The downstairs area has more options for distractions from exercise now. I just need to figure out something that doesn\’t feel like I\’m wasting time, yet doesn\’t demand I twist my torso sideways.
Beyond my virtual attendance of Games Done Quick, everything\’s settling back to normal, save some scattered doctor\’s appointments. I\’m hoping those won\’t be too expensive, but we\’ll see. Going to try to get allergy tests, have my only wisdom tooth removed, and get a pair of weird skin lumps killed off at a dermatologist. The lattermost probably won\’t be anything interesting (like, y\’know, cancer), but they are annoying, so best to kill them just in case.