Stress, anxiety and the swear

A while back I wrote a piece on my favourite methods for dealing with anxiety and I ended it by stating that I would post any other ones that came to mind. After stubbing my toe yesterday and issuing a string of highly articulate and inventive profanities that would have made a sailor blush, it finally dawned upon me that I actually felt much better for doing so. It also got me thinking about the times when I have been highly stressed or anxious and whether or not swearing (in private I might add), helped me to deal with the situation. I can remember repeating a certain word (that rhymes with bit) whilst hurtling down a black run on a pair of skis, certain that at any moment something would give and I would soon resemble a giant rolling ball of snow. I didn’t in the end, but my chant, rather perversely, gave me a sense of control and focus. I have lost count of the times when that particular chant has helped me through a difficult situation.

On a psychological level, swearing gives us a sense of control when we have none. When everything else is going down the pan, we can still decide what comes out of our mouth. It almost seems to provide a release for the pent up pain and suffering. Saying socially unacceptable words expresses anguish far more eloquently than any poet ever could. In making it known, the pain somehow lessens. I would never suggest screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs whilst in the middle of a crowded mall. That would most likely end up with you being unceremoniously stuffed into the back of a police car whilst a group of elderly ladies give a series of disapproving looks. If you internalise the dialogue, then you can avoid this particular outcome. Shouting offensive language in your head can work wonders in times of great stress. Points are scored for ingenuity as it will help to take your mind of the cause of your problems. Have fun with it.

The unique creed.

This is me. There many people like me, but only one me. I am my own best friend. I am my only life. I must master my actions as I must master my life. My life, without me, is useless. Without my life, I am nothing. 


Just messing around whilst bored. Makes sense in a weird way. The first two sentences have been my personal creed for years, but I finally looked up the rest of the Rifleman's creed and some of the rest can be modified. I don't know about the rest. Seems a bit like trying to replace every other word in Shakespeare with butter... 

To cure or not to cure?

Whilst surfing the web the other day I suddenly remembered an article in the papers from about a year ago (an amazing thing memory, contains lots of interesting things as well as huge amounts of utter rubbish).  This particular article highlighted ‘new’ research into the possibility of the hormone oxytocin being used to treat and potentially ‘cure’ Aspergers. I use the word cure for lack of a better one. I am well aware that Aspergers is not an illness and so cannot technically be ‘cured’, but hey, who actually reads this crap anyway. Oxytocin is essentially a hormone that makes us social and plays an important role in the development of relationships (all scientific evidence can be found here if you are interested: www.researchautism.net. Someone apparently noticed that these are areas where Aspies are lacking and so thought that it might help and kudos to them for trying.

Anyway, as I was saying before I got distracted by that little bit of info, I suddenly decided to check out what was happening with that piece of research and stumbled upon their site. They were still looking for volunteers and that got me to thinking. Should I volunteer? There are good reasons why I should. It would help develop treatments for Aspergers, or at least to alleviate some of the more unpleasant aspects of it. I would not just be helping myself but others too. However, I also perceived some valid reasons why I wouldn’t, chiefly that the whole experience would involve a great deal of suffering and anxiety without providing known odds of success and more importantly whether or not success would be that much of a good thing. What they seem to be trying to achieve is a spray that provide fairly temporary effects. What good is being socially interested for short periods of time, when I will be petrified/anxious/bored most of the time. I could get myself into all kinds of unpleasant situations (I can see it as being similar to the effects of alcohol: overconfidence x stupidity = awkwardness, regret and trouble). If things start to get unbearable, then it may become an option, but, for the moment at least, I am happy the way I am.

The site that I am referring to can be found here:

http://www.autismresearchcentre.com/volunteers/default.asp

Brothers and Sisters

Social relationships are not something which comes easily to Aspies. Although we experience fewer difficulties in our relationships with our siblings, there can still be problems. This is especially true when neither the Aspie nor the sibling understand Aspergers. Aspies love rules and often have a strong sense of morality. This can be a good thing, but when we try to apply it to others it comes across as being bossy or controlling and lead to tension. Though much less now, this can still cause me problems. Importantly for me, my siblings know a lot about Asperger s syndrome and how it manifests itself and therefore they know how to deal with any of my quirks. They are able to be flexible when I cannot and can point me in the right direction gently when I make mistakes.

I have a few friends outside of the family, but almost all of my support comes from within. It’s not just me either, as most Aspies rely on their families for the vast majority of their care and support. To me, my siblings provide a secure base from which I can periodically sally into the wider world and return to when things become too much. I know that my relationship with them is stronger than all others (save my parents). To normal people, this may seem to be quite ‘sad’ or they might think of me as being lonely without a lot of friends. However, Aspies cannot handle large social groups, and will probably never be able to do so. The loner is a tag that often gets applied to us and whilst true, it is unfair to use it in a derogatory way. I am constantly aware of that tag constantly being applied to violent criminals, I mean how often do you hear the words, “the gunman, describe as a loner by neighbours…”. What worries me is that people will associate being a loner with being creepy or dangerous and that would lead to Aspies being unfairly stigmatised.

With regards to being lonely, everyone in the world feels lonely in some way. I on the other hand am content to have just a few friends as I have my siblings as my closest friends. I don’t need or want any more.

The Pain of Loss

Recently my grandfather passed away. I’ve experienced bereavement before, even the suicide of a member of my extended family and I’ve been to plenty of funerals. Being an Aspie, logic tends to trump emotion when it comes to dealing with the loss. Long ago I learnt to accept that death is an inevitable part of life and that as in the case of my grandfather who had suffered from a severe illness for several years, it can be a release. Wherever he is now, he is free from the pain and suffering that plagued his last years. So logically, I should be happy for him right? Well yes, and yet no. Grandpa’s death really hurt me, I mean physically as well as mentally. We had been expecting it for years, and yet it was still a shock. I felt as if someone had swept the rug from under my feet. To me it represented a massive change in my life; it seemed as if things would never be the same again.

My relationship with my grandpa was one of the most stable in my life, out of my entire (and pretty large family) he was the only one who truly understood me, and it seemed that in turn I saw him differently to everyone else. We had one major aspect of our lives in common: we both had Aspergers. We also shared roughly the same special interests and could talk for hours. He was an incredible source of information and intelligence and had an almost encyclopaedic memory. I looked up to him and respected him more than anyone else in the world. It was from him that I inherited my gifts and whilst I also inherited the curse, I didn’t blame him. He suffered for his gifts too and I always believe that the gifts of Aspergers outweigh the curse.

He wasn’t diagnosed until well after me. My mum looked at me and all of my quirks, saw grandpa, put two and two together and suggested that he get checked. One of the greatest tragedies is that it was too late for him. You can’t cure Aspergers and even the treatments have limitations, but just knowing that you have it is the greatest remedy. In the past it was not something that was widely known about. A diagnosis was hard to come by, especially when you were an adult. Grandpa went through almost his entire life not knowing why he was different and being seen as very different by those around him. Without the coping strategies that are formulated for Aspies, he turned to obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) for relief. His OCD was worse than mine because he didn’t realise what it was and never had the access to therapy, medication and counselling that we have today. For these reasons his curse outweighed his vast gifts. I think that that is partly the reason why I felt his death so much. I was sad for him because he had the misfortune to be born in the wrong era. Today his gifts would have been nurtured whilst his curse was controlled. People are more accepting of Aspergers and the information and knowledge available about it is more extensive. I felt guilt too, because he was the greatest influence on my development as an individual, I owed him a lot; yet he missed out. I had also lost the one other person in the family who really understood me, who knew what I was going through. It hurts now, but I guess time heals all wounds. I will never forget him, but I hope that I will eventually be able to look back on his memory with pride and gladness, instead of pain and sorrow.

Incredible people who were also Aspies

I have previously attempted to make a case for Aspies potentially being outstanding employees. To further that point, I would like to share a list of exceptional people who very likely had Aspergers. This is not just an Aspie looking through history with Aspie-tinted lenses. Ioan James, author of Asperger’s Syndrome and High Achievement: Some Very Remarkable People has an impressive bibliography and set of references to back him up. His book is truly inspirational to anyone recently diagnosed. Aspergers sufferers generally have well above average IQs (I personally find the definition of intelligence to be lacking, but IQ is as good as any other attempts), and some even reach the definition of genius. Not convinced? Okay, how about if I tell you that Albert Einstein was almost certainly an Aspie, as diagnosed (posthumously) by eminent psychologist Simon Baron-Cohen. On a side note, yes, he is related to Sacha Baron-Cohen (he is his cousin). Among others identified by Ioan James are Isaac Newton, Vincent Van Gough, Andy Warhol, Thomas Jefferson and Bertrand Russell (a hero of mine I might add). So not only do you have some serious giants of maths and science, but also a highly respected philosopher and two of the greatest artists of the western world. Makes being diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome something of a blessing. Need any more reasons why Aspies are not just a drain on society or unsuitable for employment?