life, PT.2, according to an aspie
 
asperger’s syndrome and pressure
 
Looks like I’ve gone & gotten myself off onto a multi-part series [NoW:2] on asperger’s syndrome. Loads of US have it. So Y not? It helps when you know ---- like, hey . . . I’m not the only one. These pics were taken on the lOndOn Eye. appropriate. this blOg is written about life as seen through the EyE of an aspie. Some good. soMe not. Like pressure. Not pressure like stress. But pressure. Like pressure. If Brian picks any place on my body and applies pressure firmly to it, it somehow opens the channels in my mind [now U go get YOUR mind back out of the gutter!] An Aspie mind is often compared to telephone lines with too much static and stuff trying to squeeze through [like stuffing #s of watermelon through a telephone line.] It clogs up. You need a Windows re-boot [sorry for that slam, I’m a MAC user.] Anyhow, I can’t remember a time when I did not move some part of my body at all times to help these telephone lines open up. Not sure how it helps, but it does. When you move something, your mind opens up. For the first few years of our marriage, B thought I was odd in that way. I didn’t know anyone else lived differently. Now i do. Movement somehow assists in locating the body to the present place. Without it, you can feel as if you are drifting through space and you just can’t seem to connect with where you are. But pressure works even better. Brian can choose my arm, feet, head, legs - anything, really --- and just apply very strong pressure. It’s euphoria to me. Xanadu. I’m skating through life like Olivia Newton-John in tight-shimmering-pants and a full can of hairspray applied. My mind is free and open and I know where I am, completely. It’s at those times that I remember the Flowers of Algernon story. And how that character must have felt to taste reality but then to have it slip away. I know that flavor. Because the instant Brian removes the pressure, my mind clouds again and fills up and jumbles with too many watermelon. Last night he had the ostentatious idea (after his poor hands and arms were tired from squeezing so tightly) to use our blood pressure thing. We have one here because years ago I found out my blood pressure averages 95 over 55 and it got me worried that maybe I wasn’t really alive. I couldn’t find anything warning against low blood pressure like mine so thankfully I had nothing to fuel my fears but I did buy the machine because you can get them pretty cheaply here and I just wanted to double-check my pressure from time to time. Just to be safe. You know. Anyhow, Brian thought maybe we could wrap it around my leg or foot or something and squeeze it tight and let it go at that. Just let it stay. So we did. First off, he squeezed it too tight and my toes got purple instantly. The next try worked better and it felt soooooo amazingly good. I was so free in my mind. I was so excited about the whole possibility that I began imagining buying four or five more of these beautiful contraptions and putting them on all different places on my body --- tightening them and then just . . . WOW. Just . . . aaaah. Just . . . being able to think freely and to locate where I am mentally with my senses. As I dreamed of my splendid find (okay, well - actually it WAS Brian’s suggestion --- so he gets the credit), Brian said . . . ‘I wonder what would happen if you left it on too long. We should check your toes now.’ So he did. And I did. And they were purple. DRAT. SupER-BIG-DRAT! Of course I hadn’t felt anything because like many people with asperger’s the internal nerve organs don’t always live up to their name. Which is fine for things like labor and delivery. No sweat. But it can be a bit tricky in other parts of life. So we quickly took off the blood pressure thing . . . my mind re-clouded; I sunk back down like the character in Flowers for Algernon --- back into my normally subdued persona. It’s not that I want to be subdued. It’s just that for a person with A.S. -- there are soooooo many things fighting for your attention . . . the feel of your clothes, the sounds, the light (or lack of it) . . . that by the time you process all of those, you just don’t have a lot left over for much else. Not that Asperger’s is a bad thing. It’s not. It does give you a weakness in many areas particularly the five senses . . . but it compensates in other areas. Like for some reason my fingers have an acute sense of touch. Which comes in handy. And I can’t smell all that much. So living in Africa, that comes in handy, too. Plus, you really do see the world through a different eye. And, I believe this is probably true for many aspies: It is a wonderful world that you see. I just can’t understand how so many people can walk through this world and not drop their jaw in awe of what God has made --- the sunsets, the clouds, the butterflies, the people, the grass, the technology, the community, the food, the flowers . . . I’m floored every day that I live in such a miraculously beautiful place. Sure, it’s got its ugly sides. And I’ve seen them. I’ve seen them. But the beauty by far surpasses any evil or ugly I’ve ever known. And I’ve seen ugly. I have. But even within ugly, I’ve seen the miracle of the wonderful, too. God is so close. So real. And life is his mystery that He gives us to solve. A mystery at which to marvel. In awe.
asperger’s syndrome and pressure