Blue Monday

October was a fairly dark month for me. Not as dark as those before my first year at university; but still pretty grey. November too has felt the same so far. I know what depression feels like and I can safely say that I have been depressed at times during the last few months. Even at the best of times there is the feeling of a loss of control of the events that surround me. It’s hard to be optimistic in the current climate. The economy is still struggling but now it is really starting to hurt both my work and my parents. My one major insecurity in life is that I am totally reliant on my parents. I need them. They provide support to me, support that is vital to my mental health and stability. I can go from ‘happy as Larry’ to suicidal in a matter of hours. It doesn’t happen very often, but when it does I need support. In these situations I won’t go so far as to actually kill myself, but I think about it and that in itself is distressing.

For a few months my parents have been fighting the bank, who are extorting vast sums of money from their business every month. Assets have been and continue to be sold in an effort to keep afloat. Legal action is being prepared against the bank, but legal help costs more money. It is a case that according to legal precedent they should win. The question is whether it will be too late. The whole thing casts a massive shadow of uncertainty over both their and my future.

Ordinarily I would throw myself into my work, but that business is struggling too. My hours have been drastically cut and I have agreed to take a massive pay cut in order to keep the firm above the red, as well as to safeguard my job.

I know how to deal with depression; I’ve been dealing with it since I was thirteen. I can cope with it. I’m not suicidal, so please do not worry about me. I just feel a lot of anxiety at the moment. I don’t like change and the potentially catastrophic changes that could occur are simply too much to think about. At times like this I fall back into the moment I’m in. I try to enjoy the little things in life, be it games, books and music. I’m also going to have to cut back on my twitter experiment. The anxiety that it sometimes causes is unhelpful when I am feeling vulnerable.

All in all not a very optimistic post, but an important one. Many aspies face a lifelong battle with depression. It is key that we learn to identify it, counter it and not let it ruin our lives.

Mr McKinnon.

It was really good news to hear that Gary McKinnon's extradition was blocked. I don't believe that the extradition treaty between Britain and the USA is one-sided. Nor do I believe that he didn't do anything wrong just because he is a fellow Brit or Aspie. What I do believe however, is that he would have killed himself had he been extradited. How do I know that? Because faced with potentially 60 years in prison in another country and culture I can say with absolute certainty that I would take my own life. The change would be cataclysmic and the huge emotional impact would be more than I could bear. ASD doesn't mean that you cannot feel emotion; quite the opposite in fact. I feel far too much. Our brains are wired up in a way that means that we are far more sensitive to emotional stimulus than NT individuals. If you've ever felt overwhelmed by events then you will have some idea of what we quite often face when dealing with change; and believe me when I say that almost every day involves change. And when a change is this huge, that everything you know and love in your world is taken away from you, then life becomes unbearable. The only way out that the obsessive and intensely focused mind of the Aspie would see would be death. Anything to escape from the overwhelming emotion.

I can understand why Gary McKinnon did what he did. I know, and he would have known that it was wrong; but he would have been compelled by his obsessive curiosity to seek out answers to his question. Our SI's completely narrow our focus to such a degree that everything else around us becomes irrelevant and invisible. We cannot help it in the same way that we need to eat and drink. If I think of a question then I am compelled to find an answer, no matter what time at night it is or whatever the possible consequences might be (though the threat of prison in another country has thankfully never been a possibility for me thank God!).

This is not an excuse for what Gary did. I still believe that he should be punished for infringing the rules. After all, we Aspies are known for our love of rules and regulations. I am simply glad that he wasn't extradited to certain suicide. In the end, maybe his skills as a hacker should be employed by either the UK or USA governments. They are certainly a great example of the way that Aspies are quite often the leaders in their fields. The extra publicity for Aspergers Syndrome should also help to improve public perception and understanding for what is at times a horrific burden for any human being to carry. Hopefully Gary can now continue living his life whilst enjoying some of the benefits of it.

An Earth-Shattering Announcement!

From the beginning of next year Aspergers will no longer exist, at least in the USA. No, it has not been 'cured'. It will simply be merged into a broader 'Autistic Spectrum Disorder'. Whether this will apply to the UK, Europe or the rest of the world remains to be seen. This is not as big a deal as it would first seem (or my title would imply; sorry about that, it seems that I'm picking up some journalistic habits). Psychologists have for years debated just how different Aspergers as a diagnosis is from Autism in general. The defining line has always been a fairly blurry one and now it will disappear altogether. Which will mean that I will have to probably change the name of this blog and refer to myself as being and ASD. Change, don't you just hate it?

More info on the upcoming change can be found here: http://www.thespec.com/living/healthfitness/article/811063--autism-redefined-as-asperger-s-diagnosis-disappears

A Social Experiment (sort of...)

A couple of months ago I did the previously unthinkable (for me) and finally joined twitter. My initial reasoning was to gain access to another service that required a twitter account. I planned to barely use it. However, as the weeks have gone on I have found myself using it more and more to follow interesting people and organisations. I had no idea that one of my personal heroes, Richard Wiseman would be on there (@RichardWiseman) and naturally he got a follow; as did Bear Grylls (@BearGrylls)

Straight after signing up I was terrified that I would be dragged into new social situations and whilst I still have no doubt that that would be possible, I have kept a fairly low profile. I didn’t tweet for the first few weeks, and then slowly tweeted a bit more as time went on. My profile, initially non-descript has been updated slowly and cautiously, though I will never give my full name.

 I will never be a fully-fledged tweeter, but it has been and continues to be an important social experiment for me. I am in control of how much I metaphorically dip my toe into the pool. When I feel threatened by sudden social advances I can withdraw. I am learning some useful lessons. I have followers and follow people who I correspond with fairly regularly. It gives me the chance to learn about other cultures without the need for anxiety inducing travel or awkward face to face conversations. I use my phone for something other than emergency calls or browsing the web.

Most people wouldn’t see this as a huge change, but for me it has been fairly significant. If it had occurred in 24 hours, it would have caused me a nervous breakdown. But as it has been a slow and steady change over months, it has been manageable. This all confirms my theory that changes in my life are best made slowly and carefully. Oh and I am still never, ever joining Facebook. That is a promise. 

Damn you sickness!

Sorry that I haven't posted for a while (I really should learn to!). I've been busy feeling sorry for myself whilst suffering acute sinusitis. As if that wasn't bad enough I the antibiotics that the quack (doctor) gave me first time around didn't do much except make me feel sick and lose what little appetite I have. Three weeks and a couple of pounds of weight loss later and nothing has changed. So, mentally preparing myself for round two of almost constant nausea, I went in to see them again.
The result? a stronger dose of antibiotics and Sudafed. As if feeling nauseous wasn't bad enough on its own, the Sudafed apparently has Insomnia and anxiety as two common side effects; three side effects in total that are guaranteed to make the next 2 to 3 weeks a misery... Bugger... 

Back to the Real World

You'd think that three weeks is a long time. To answer my own question somewhat pedantically, I'd say that it depends on what you are referring to. Three weeks would seem like an age if you had a crippling headache the whole time (more on this later; it is relevant I promise you!). But a three week holiday feels like no time at all. It is however enough time to let my brain turn to mush and to become unbearably lazy; in which case I would say that the whole experience has been a success. I met some new people, some of whom I genuinely liked and I got to know some family friends a little better. Although I was worried about the first week with my brother not being there, it turned out to be the best (I haven't learnt anything from this though!). I found a new favourite Weissbier: Fransiskaner Dunkel. I've grown a beard I (I am still considering whether or not to get rid of it). I read a ton of books, finally catching up on a lot of science fiction that I have been meaning to read all year. Those are the good things to come out of this holiday. The bad thing is that somehow I have developed a sinus infection and have had to go on antibiotics as soon as I got bad (that was the source of the three week headache).
However even that could not detract from the experience and I would say that this year was better than last. Coming back on the plane experienced a moments utter serenity as I gazed at the sight of the setting sun over the Mediterranean Sea, the glowing reflection that it cast along the rivers of Aquitaine and Poitou-Charentes and finally the delicate silver clouds floating lazily over the night-time landscape of Britain. Moments of peace such as these do not come along very often for me, be when they do I allow myself to be fully absorbed by them. I guess that since they are so rare, I feel them more than I should. Still, now that I am back in the real world I really need to get my body and mind back up to speed, which means working out to get fit and catching up on some of the latest developments in my SI's and drinking large quantities of caffeine... again.

Aspergers and Tolerance

Aspie's have something of a bad reputation when it comes to tolerance for others. Sadly and I can say this from personal experience (both of myself and other Aspies that I have met) that this is somewhat deserved. Truthfully (and I'm not proud to admit this) I have very little time for people who don't interest me, luckily though people generally do. I don't suffer fools lightly and this sometimes makes me come across as arrogant. It is one of the reasons I do not get along very well with my younger sister. Her concerns often seem trivia. She quite often comes out with ridiculously stupid logic, especially when she is angry (her dog ran away chasing a rabbit so "someone else should shoot all of the rabbits to stop it happening again" was one of her finer moments). As I said, we Aspies can be very intolerant.
However, in many ways we are far more tolerant of some things than NT's. Take for example racism and xenophobia. I don't judge people on their race or where they come from because such factors mean nothing to me when meeting people. If anything it just makes them interesting. Many of my fellow Brits seem to distrust the Argentinians because of the Falklands conflict. This I don't understand. Surely it is a dispute between our two governments not between all Brits and all Argentinians. The same goes for the IRA. I don't dislike all Irish people because of the actions of a small minority as some seem to. If I have a problem with another country's foreign policy I blame the government not the people. To paint everyone in the same colour seems like madness. The same goes for the different religions, classes, education etc. When I meet people I judge them as individuals, something that seems to be common amongst Aspies.

Keeping Calm

I must confess that for the last week I have been quietly fighting a sense of panic that threatens to turn into a full blown panic attack. What is causing this? Sadly I have no idea. I have been doing a lot of internalisation, trying to figure out the root of it, but without luck. It seems like the smallest incidences set off these feelings of anxiety, the likes of which I usually only experience before an important social event. Writing down my musing on the subject should help me to externalise possible causes and therefore examine them in more detail.
The most likely source of anxiety that I can think of is that in about a weeks time I will be going on holiday with my parents and youngest brother. I usually feel a little anxious before the annual holiday (or indeed travel of any kind) but never normally this bad or for this long. It probably doesn't help that my other younger brother (K) isn't coming for the first (and most important due to social duties) week. Whilst I love all of my brothers, K is probably the one that I am closest to. He knows me better than anyone else in the family and I share more of my problems with him than I do my parents. He also keeps me calm for reasons that I do not fully understand though I suspect that it is due to a shared humour, his knowledge about me, and the fact that he is a extrovert and so helps me through social situations. He won't be there for only one week, so that shouldn't be the source of all off this nervous energy.
The first time I noticed that I was more tightly strung than usual was when somebody who I don't know well enough asked me for some contact details. That always causes me to have a mini panic attack, but that was about a week ago and it shouldn't last this long. Besides, in this particular incidence I wasn't too bothered about possibly giving them due to their limited nature (they don't breach too many 'compartments' in my compartmentalised world).
It could be the lack of sunlight and the generally gloomy weather that we have been having in the UK that is negatively affecting my mood and hormone production. Sunlight has been proven to have a large impact on human health and during the winter months people can suffer from the ironically named SAD, or Seasonal Affective Disorder. It could be that, but I have been using a SAD light on the grimmest days.
Another possibility is diet, but I have been eating very healthily with most food groups covered in my diet and  missing no major vitamins or minerals. I have also started taking vitamin B complex in an effort to boost my energy levels and mood; though the science is sketchy at best about the extent to which this can help.
The future seems no more terrifying than it usually is. I am fairly secure in my job as work seems to be picking up again after a long quiet spell. I am being given an increasing amount of responsibility, but that causes a good kind of stress at being challenged. There has been no change in my (lack of) any kind of marital/relationship status, which would be the stress equivalent of a supernova, so everything is peaceful on that front.  
I have been sleeping better than usual for this time of year due to the cooler temperatures at night and the fact that I bought a fan to keep me cool, so it cannot be due to a lack of sleep. It could be partly due to me being a little exhausted by work, which is why I am kind of looking forward to the holiday.
It could quite easily be a combination of all of these factors that is making me so highly strung. I haven't really had time to metaphorically 'sit down and take stock'. I guess that I should try to get back to the basics of my life and focus on the things that bring me an almost primeval sense of comfort, for example bushcraft or one of my SI's. Rule number 32: Enjoy the little things.

Valarian: a Case Study

Of all of the herbal remedies that can help to manage anxiety and nervous exhaustion, Valarian or Valeriana officinalis, is definitely one of the more effective that I have come across. It grows wild throughout the UK, Asia and most of North America. It has been used in herbal medicine since at least the time of Hippocrates in the fourth century BC. The famous ancient Greek botanist Dioscorides believed that it was an excellent diuretic as well as being useful in warming the body. During medieval times the herb took on almost mythical properties and was often referred to by the name of "all-heal"; Nicholas Culpeper even went so far as to pronounce it as a cure for the plague. 

I seriously doubt that Valerian does cure everything (especially the plague!) but I do know that it promotes sleep and helps to reduce anxiety; something that Culpeper curiously fails to mention. It seems to affect some people more than others, though scientific research has proven its usefulness in treating mild insomnia. It is two groups of chemical compounds in particular that are the focus of efforts to understand the exact mechanisms through which Valerian works: valeric acid and valepotriates. 
It is the roots of the plant that are used and can be taken either as a tincture or tea. Many health stores also sell valerian capsules which are certainly the safer than preparing it yourself. An overdose of Valerian would be fatal so extra care must be taken when using it. It can also be mistaken for Red Valerian or Centranthus Ruber, which is not actually part of the same species (although it does have similar medicinal properties according to Jekka McVicar) and it toxic at much smaller doses (I have had the unfortunate effect of taking slightly too much and being poisoned. Not seriously but still not pleasant.). 
Although Valerian affects the same set of receptors (GABA_A) as benzodiazepines, they are not thought to be addictive or reactant to alcohol. For the best effect I would recommend taking it for short periods of time as I find that the effects lessen with prolonged usage and for a great nights sleep dissolve the contents of a capsule into Camomile tea. Oh, and for goodness sake consult a doctor or trained herbal medicinist before taking it, just to be safe! A word of warning about the smell too. Some people think that it smells like leather, others that it smells like wet dog. You decide, but don't say that I didn't warn you.


For more info I'd recommend:
Jekka McVicar, Jekka's Complete Herb Book (London, 2007).
Steven Foster and Rebecca L. Johnson, National Geographic Desk Reference to Nature's Medicine (Washington, 2006)  Probably the most informative book on herbal medicine.
Nicholas Culpeper, Culpeper's Complete Herbal (2009 ed.) (London, 2009).

Cheers!

Here's to lost opportunities! It's only one, don't worry, and a very nice one at that!

Something new...

Just trying out the blogger mobile app. On a break and slightly bored so I thought why not? It means that now I can bore you all from anywhere in the world! Sorry about that... You've got to love technology!

Post Evening Analysis

I did something that I try to do as little as possible last night (no innuendo please, this is a clean blog!). I attended a dinner party with about one-hundred and seventy people. I only do about one large dinner a year, mostly to keep my parents happy; certainly not for fun. It really is my idea of hell, being stuck next to someone I don't really know for roughly two or three hours whilst trying to eat when my stomach is so tied up in knots that it is a real struggle to digest anything. There is no escape once you've arrived, to leave during a meal would be a severe breach of social etiquette. If I could, I would, but my parents raised me according to strict rules concerning manners, so much so that it is able to keep my natural flight instincts under wraps. That is not to say that these rules are unbreakable, but I'm an Aspie: I love rules, even if I don't entirely understand/agree with them.
This time wasn't so bad I guess though I wouldn't say I enjoyed it. It was more interesting than fun. I used the EMDR and I am pleased to say that it does actually help a little. A bit of mindfulness and I was able to remove some of the more unpleasant physical symptoms of my anxiety. Through a bit of preparation I was able to make plenty of small talk, or at least enough to ensure that the two ladies on either side of me were not bored (a big faux-pas apparently!). I've found that as long as I can get them to do most of the talking then I don't have to do much. I much prefer to listen than talk anyway. You can learn a lot if you listen and offer a supportive and sympathetic view.
These kind of events also provide an excellent opportunity to practice my skills with regards to body language. A room full of hundreds of people socialising is absolutely terrifying to me, but when I can focus on a hundred unspoken conversations, it kind of takes my mind off of it. Now that you can make a game out of. Seeing if you can correctly identify who is attracted to who, who is about to have an argument and who wants to leave like me. All I can say is that I am glad that that is over for a while. I can finally relax after a week and a half of anxiety.
On the sad side I felt something for an individual that I met again for the first time in a while. From her body language I could tell the feeling was mutual. I felt comfortable discussing things with her and actually enjoyed her company. I even admitted to her that I had Aspergers, which makes me feel more comfortable, knowing that it is out in the open. However, I know that I cannot rationally commit to anything resembling a relationship yet; to do so would be highly unfair for the other person as I have more than my fair share of problems. Part of me hopes that I'll see her again, but I left without saying goodbye as I was  petrified of having her ask for my number as I (irrationally or rationally?) see that as the start of a commitment to a social relationship. Again, part of me wanted to accept such an outcome, but my fear (and knowledge) of the huge change that it would bring about overruled it. I guess that I didn't know enough about her to know that she would not bring about too much change in my life, and I couldn't risk committing before I knew more. So for the time being I can only imagine 'what if?' again and hope that some day conditions will be more favourable. I have some thinking to do.

The Vulnerability of I.

The human brain is an enigma, wrapped in mystery and carefully concealed in a massive stack full of brain-like objects. You may have heard of the many school shootings that occur in the world. You may think that it is just some sicko acting out his (or less likely her) disturbed fantasies, fantasies moulded by a violent upbringing. You'd assume that they were born like that. After all, they say that personality is fixed in human beings by the time that we are 22. You'd never do anything like that, how could you? The acts are repugnant and without justification. You are over 22 and you think that you will never really change.
 Well, I am afraid that I have some bad news. You're mind is the product of countless and highly complex so-called 'zombie' programs that you cannot consciously alter, each one responsible for a multitude of different operations. Your emotions, the way that you are feeling right now, is the result of chemical changes within your body and brain. Even small changes to the contained cosmos that is your body can throw the equilibrium that is you at this very point in time. Brain tumours may sound like they are just lumps in the brain and you'd be forgiven for thinking that they cannot change an individual completely. Forgiven , but still wrong.
The following is an extract from David Eagleman's book Incognito that both brilliantly and disturbingly illustrates just how fragile everything that you think you are is. It is a truly concerning read:

"On the steamy first day of August 1966, Charles Whitman took an elevator to the top floor of the University of Texas Tower in Austin. The twenty-five-year-old climbed three flights of stairs to the observation deck, lugging with him a trunk full of guns and ammunition. At the top he killed a receptionist with the butt of his rifle. He then shot at two families of tourists coming up the stairwell before  beginning to fire indiscriminately from the deck at people below. The first woman he shot was pregnant. As others ran to help her, he shot them as well. He shot pedestrians in the street and the ambulance drivers that came to rescue them.

                The night before Whitman had sat at his typewriter and composed a suicide note:

I do not really understand myself these days. I am supposed to be an average reasonable and

intelligent young man. However, lately (I cannot recall when it started) I have been a victim of

many unusual and irrational thoughts.

As news of the shooting spread, all Austin police officers were ordered to the campus. After several hours, three officers and a quickly deputised citizen worked their way up the stairs and managed to kill Whitman on the deck. Not including Whitman, thirteen people were killed and thirty-three wounded.

                The story of Whitman’s rampage dominated National headlines the next day. And when police went to investigate his home for clues, the story became even more grim: in the early hours of the morning before the shooting, he had murdered his mother and stabbed his wife to death in her sleep. After these first killings, he had returned to his suicide note, now writing by hand.

                It was after much thought that I decided to Kill my wife, Kathy, tonight… I love her dearly, and

                she has been a fine wife to me as any man could ever hope to have. I cannot rationally pinpoint

                any specific reason for doing this….

Along with the shock of the murders lay another, more hidden surprise: the juxtaposition of his aberrant actions and his un-remarkable personal life. Whitman was a former Eagle Scout and marine, worked as a teller in a bank, and volunteered as a scout-master for Austin Scout Troop 5. As a child he’d scored 138 on the Stanford Binet IQ test, placing him in the top 0.1 percentile. So after he launched his bloody, indiscriminate shooting from the University of Texas Tower, everyone wanted answers.

                For that matter, so did Whitman. He requested in his suicide note that an autopsy be performed to determine if something had changed in his brain – because he suspected it had. A few months before the shooting, Whitman had written in his diary:

                I talked to my doctor once for about two hours and tried to convey to him my fears that I felt overcome

by overwhelming violent impulses. After one session I never saw the doctor again, and since then I have

been fighting my mental turmoil alone, and seemingly to no avail.

Whitman’s body was taken to the morgue, his skull was put under the bone saw, and the medical examiner lifted the brain from its vault. He discovered that Whitman’s brain harboured a tumour about the diameter of a nickel. This tumour, called a glioblastoma, had blossomed from beneath a structure called the thalamus, impinged on the hypothalamus, and compressed a third region, called the amygdala. The amygdala is involved in emotional regulation, especially as regards fear and aggression. By the late 1800s, researchers had discovered that damage to the amygdala caused emotional and social disturbances. In the 1930s, biologists Heinrich Klüver and Paul Bucy demonstrated that damage to the amygdala in monkeys led to a constellation of symptoms including lack of fear, blunting of emotion, and overreaction. Female monkeys with amygdala damage showed inappropriate maternal behaviour, often neglecting or physically abusing their infants. In normal humans, activity in the amygdala increases when people are shown threatening faces, are put in frightening situations, or experience social phobias.

                Whitman’s intuition about himself – that something in his brain was changing his behaviour – was spot-on.

                I imagine it appears that I brutally killed both of my loved ones. I was only trying to do a quick

                thorough job…. If my life insurance policy is valid please pay off my debts…. Donate the rest

anonymously to a mental health foundation. Maybe research can prevent further tragedies

of this type.

Others had noticed the changes as well. Elaine Fuess, a close friend of Whitman’s, observed, “Even when he looked perfectly normal, he gave you the feeling of trying to control something in himself.” Presumably, that, “something” was his collection of angry, aggressive zombie programs. His cooler, rational parties were battling his reactive, violent parties, but damage from the tumour tipped the vote so it was no longer a fair fight.

 David Eagleman, Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain (London, 2011), pp. 151-3.

Copyright © David M. Eagleman, 2011. 

I feel that since I have posted an extract of his work, I should provide a link for people to buy it if they are as fascinated by it as I was: Buy Incognito on Amazon.com

EMDR

Once again let me apologise profusely for not having kept up with my posting on this blog... again. I hate offering excuses as they are usually an attempt to dodge taking responsibility for a wrongdoing. However I do have a kind of excuse. No, my dog didn't eat my notes or keyboard and although my broadband is slower than an octogenarian attempting to traverse the Himalayas, it is still working. Come to think of it I'm certain that I have used this one before. Time.
I can only do so much time staring at a computer screen before developing headaches and my eyes start to feel weirder than Alice in Wonderland (seriously, how weird is that book/film. Someone must have been abusing certain substances). It actually effects my sleep. Close your eyes after using a computer for too long and you'll see images come to mind really easily and depending on what you've been working on this does not make for quality dreams and therefore quality sleep. You spent all night dreaming about research on neurological disorders and I can guarantee that you will not wake up feeling refreshed. Interested perhaps, but not refreshed. I can usually manage about 6 hours a day before any serious effects occur, but that has to include gaming too.
I've probably already mentioned that I'm an avid gamer. I love it; it's how I unwind on an evening after work though never after 8.00pm as the negative effects on sleep of time spent after this hour are particularly damaging. Light prevents the release of melatonin (also known as the sleep hormone) from the hypothalamus, so blasting the most light sensitive part of your body with bright light just before attempting to sleep is counter-productive.
Anyway, to get back to my excuse, I am currently writing for another blog (not my own and sadly unpaid), which is great, but it means that I have less time to write on my own. It's going well and my work seems to be appreciated and getting a lot of hits. I'm not going to disclose the name of it as I want to keep the two separate. Sorry... compartmentalising is one of my coping strategies, I hope you understand.
Now that my apology/excuse is out of the way (at surprisingly lengthy looking back at it!) I can get back to the title. An odd one I am sure you'd agree. EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitisation and pRocessing and is a anxiety management technique developed by Dr Francine Shapiro. Essentially, it is believed that anxiety is based in the right hemisphere of the brain, but that these feelings often cannot be rationalised or dealt with because reasoning skills are located in the left hemisphere. By quickly moving your eyes from left to right, communication between the two hemispheres is, through some complex quirk of neurobiology, increased thereby allowing the feelings to be suppressed.
I haven't tried this technique yet myself, but anything (safe and legal) that can help manage stress and anxiety is worth a go. Try it and see how it goes: I certainly will.

I think that I may be a little depressed at the moment. Everything is various shades of grey and I can't enjoy things that I used to like being outside. Oh, wait, it's not just me? Everyone in Britain has the same symptoms as me? For the last month? Maybe it's not depression, maybe it's the terrible weather! (I blame the Met Office for issuing drought warnings across the country back in March!)

I usually like rain or I am at least curiously apathetic towards it. If I'm away in a Mediterranean country for too long I even start to miss it! But over four weeks of constant gloom and downpours is enough to drive anyone a little stir-fry crazy. A bit of sun would be nice; just enough for my body to be able to synthesise a little vitamin D. It does however make that hot mug of tea whilst sheltering indoors that bit more enjoyable. In all seriousness though, it is actually more than a little depressing. However, every cloud has a silver lining (please forgive the terrible pun, I am after all a little depressed!).

 Contrary to popular belief it isn't always raining in Britain; in fact this time last year we were basking in a miniature heat-wave. One stereotype that is true though, is that we do talk about the weather an awful lot. For an aspie who is socially challenged this is a Godsend. Two people who have absolutely bugger all in common can make small talk for at least as long as social mores dictate. The weather is something we all have in common and it changes often enough here to make it vaguely interesting. Hailing in May? Just something to use when you are next stuck chatting to someone that you don't really know. Thank God for British peculiarities!

Behold the turtle!

I heard a great saying the other day from one of my sort of heroes: Bear Grylls. "Behold the turtle; he only makes progress when he sticks his neck out" (i.e. you need to take risks to succeed). It's a great saying and is probably relevant to some people, for example those who enjoy base jumping, rock climbing without ropes and drinking water squeezed from a camel turd; but sadly not for me. I like my neck, one could even say that I am somewhat attached to it.

On a separate note there was an article in this weeks newspapers about having regrets is actually useful to have; but not if you are an OAP. The reasoning is that they act as motivation for you not to make the same mistake twice and I guess that they are right (consolation for me still thinking about Marie). If you are elderly though they can bring you down as you don't have enough time left to either correct them or be in a similar situation and thus apply the lesson that you learnt last time. So for me at least there is still hope, but time waits for no one...

Two Little Words

Having had my ambitions override my common sense more times than I care to imagine and gotten myself into unpleasant situations because of it, you could probably forgive me for being incredibly cautious about committing to anything. I don’t take huge risks, even a 10% probability of failure makes me think twice. I have to be as thoroughly informed about a situation before binding myself to a particular course of action. As I always think things through comprehensively it means that I always know exactly why I have done what I have done. It means I have very few regrets. However, you would not be human if you didn’t have at least a few.

Two words that are guaranteed to cause no small amount of discomfort to an individual are “what” and “if”. Everyone thinks these words. What if I had done better at that exam? What if I had taken that route home instead of this one? What if I had chosen a different career? What would have been different? Dwell on them too much and it can consume you and degrade what you already have. You can become trapped in this train of thought as it dominates your existence. You focus entirely upon the past and ignore the present.

This is what has been happening to me over the last few weeks. My one real regret in life revolves around somebody that I used to know (why does writing those words make the song “somebody that I used to know” by Gotye immediately pop into my head? I’m starting to think that they are playing far too much on the radio). I used to know a girl called Marie and we started working together in the local café when I was sixteen. She was one of the kindest and sweetest people that I have ever known and we got on well. One day I found out that she had a crush on me and I didn’t really know how to deal with that (it was not long after that I was diagnosed with Aspergers). My feelings towards her were conflicted and I wasn’t sure if I loved her back. I never really resolved these emotions and left her hanging on. I didn’t know this at the time, but looking back this was really cruel on my part and I freely admit that I behave like a total ba*t*rd. The way her beautiful blue eyes lit up when I mentioned how beautiful they work made me feel emotions that I haven’t really felt since. After I finished school and had my first major breakdown I started to realise that I did actually love her. How could I not, she was kind and caring and always had time for me.

 I was so close to asking her out but after starting university I had my second major nervous breakdown and as my world around me imploded I started to see that I could not invite her into my life to share in my suffering. To take her down with me would be more than I could bear. By that point she too had started at a different university but still came back in the first winter holidays to work at the café. I had stopped working there by then but still saw her around during those weeks. I still kept my silence though it became so painful that I could no longer bear to see her and started avoiding her which must have hurt her too. For that I am truly sorry. That was the last time that I saw her.

I was reminded of her recently when playing Mass Effect 3 (I’m a huge, huge fan/geek when it comes to the Mass Effect series. They say you’re either Star Trek or Star Wars: well I’m Mass Effect). One of the characters in those games (Liara T’Soni) who always reminds me of Marie. It makes me wonder what if I had asked her out? Would things have turned out differently? Now I know about my condition I realise that she would have been perfect for me and I realise now that I did love her. I could find her again but the situation would not be the same. She is probably happy with someone else and I could not risk bringing pain into her life. Maybe she’s changed. I certainly know that I have. All I can do is think: “what if?” which brings back both fond and painful memories (the song “For the rest of my life” by Gary Numan probably best expresses how I feel). I hope she knows that I am sorry and that I wish her happiness wherever she is. I need to focus on the present and future more. It’s like that song by Jay Livingston, “Que Sera, Sera (whatever will be, will be)”. In fact, that seems like the perfect counter to “what if”. Writing things down really does help you with your problems.

Alternative Therapies: Reflexology

I have very little time for the majority of alternative therapies; at the very least I am a sceptic. I like to think that I am open minded, but when people rave about homeopathy, acupuncture or reiki, I am ashamed to say that my mind becomes more closed than North Korea. I have tried hypnotherapy before but the effects were limited to the degree that I had no idea if there were any; on top of that  it cost an arm and a leg and so that therapy went out of the window pretty quickly. Reiki too did absolutely bugger all. I have a fear of needles, so acupuncture seems about as appealing as swimming with Great White sharks. Have you ever heard of urine therapy? No? Then it’s probably for the best as it is about as gross as the name would imply (I didn’t even consider trying that one for even a second; google it and you’ll see why).

It was with these opinions that I decided to give reflexology a whirl. I had just finished university and a lifetime in full-time education and entering the world of career first. Perhaps not surprisingly I had a nervous breakdown. I was prepared to leap on any opportunity to relieve the physically exhausting anxiety that didn’t involve illegal substances, alcohol or any of the therapies that I have been bad-mouthing above. A friend of my mum’s had been having reflexology for years and suggested it for me. No matter how weird the therapy is, there is always someone who swears by it (magnet therapy anybody?!?). However I knew this lady well and trust her and decided that I’d give it a go.

Several years later and I now feel that I have done it enough to confirm that it does actually help to reduce anxiety; well, at least for me it does. Maybe it’s the opportunity to take the weight off your feet for a bit whilst someone massages them than anything to do with energy lines or channels. The science certainly seems to suggest that this is the case. I now feel comfortable around my reflexologist and she acts as a sort of agony aunt, which I suppose could help too. I suggest trying a couple of sessions and seeing if you feel any different because if there’s a chance that it could help you deal with the negative aspects of being an Aspie, then it is worth a go.

Still Alive!

It's over a year since I started this blog and almost as long since I last posted! I'm sorry about that and would not be surprised if I have lost all two of my dedicated readers! The last few months have been quite tricky involving not a small amount of conflict with my sister. We have never really got on as although we are both opinionated, we have different views on almost everything. Fights with siblings are sadly not uncommon for the Aspie as a great deal of patience and understanding are needed to deal with us; something that she alas does not have. That is not  bad in a normal environment but when living with an Aspie it is necessary to have a great deal of it. She was living at home whilst searching for a job in London, which she now has (thank God!) and so has now moved back out. So now I am a little more relaxed and can at last get some creative inspiration. Here's hoping!

Illness and my Aspie mind

I usually have a pretty healthy immune system. When colds and the flu make their rounds I am usually either untouched or suffer less for a shorter period of time. It may be partly down to my obsession with cleanliness but there is only so much you can do to prevent infection in that way without developing full blown OCD. Besides, I take the view that a little dirt is good for you. I work outside a lot and in dusty conditions when I am inside and so get a lot of exposure. I also have two dogs which in terms of hygiene are the equivalent of licking the sole of your shoe a couple of times a year. I also take zinc capsules as a supplement which has been shown to improve the strength of your immune system (a link to several studies can be found here: 

http://jn.nutrition.org/content/130/5/1399S.short

Forget Echinacea, the evidence for that particular herbal remedy is ropey at best. I could go on forever about herbal remedies/supplements, but I should probably get back on topic. 

Every year in Britain several strains of flu and colds make their rounds, sweeping through the population and bringing misery to thousands of people. There is no way to avoid them all and to try would do far more harm than good. As if that wasn’t enough at least one strain of the Norovirus (or ‘winter vomiting bug’ as it is poetically nicknamed) stalks the land. As I said at the start, I usually avoid the worst and even when I get ill it is usually pretty quick. Since New Year though, I haven’t been so lucky. First I had a pretty painful and aggressive cold which managed to get into my ears and give me an ear infection. My siblings all had the same but mine seemed to go much quicker. However, it must have weakened my immune system sufficiently for the Norovirus to sneak into my system when I usually avoid it.

 Info from the NHS here: http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/norovirus/Pages/Introduction.aspx.  

I really hate being sick. Nobody likes it but I almost have a phobia of it. I couldn’t even watch someone being sick on TV until a few years ago. All of this made the fact that I have a really sensitive stomach and can (but not want to) be sick at the drop of a hat even more unpleasant. Normally when you are ill, being sick makes you feel a little better. Well, not with this strain of Norovirus; not even an empty stomach could save me. That on top of the fever and diarrhoea meant that I was pretty miserable for four days and it has taken me over a week to start felling even remotely ‘normal’. I even had to miss two days off work, which I rarely do. 

I really can’t stand people who spread sickness and disease through negligence. People sneezing without covering their nose or not washing hands after going to the loo are two of my biggest pet hates (leaving dirty hankies everywhere including the kitchen table also drives me mad). All of this in turn irritates my mother and sister, both of whom are really terrible for this sort of thing. If either of them is ill you can be sure as mustard that every other member of the family will catch it. I can see why they would be mad at me for making a fuss about them infecting everyone, but to suggest that it is inconsiderate on my part is taking it a little far. Sure they are ill, but then surely they should stay in bed and not sit in the kitchen all day spreading germs. That to me is more inconsiderate. When I am ill and contagious I stay in my room and wash my hands at every opportunity so that I won’t spread it to others; I would be mortified if I was responsible for infecting another person. Is it so wrong if I expect others to treat me with the same consideration as I treat them? I am proud to say that I did not infect any other member of the family with the Norovirus despite it being highly contagious. That fact at least made me feel a bit better.

Looking back on 2011

It is apparently traditional social protocol at this time of year to make New Years Resolutions. I however have no time for making absurdly impossible promises to better myself, especially when said promises are dictated by specific time-frames (did you understand that, because looking back I'm not sure that I entirely do. Like a monkey in a dress, it just seems wrong (though nowhere near as hilarious). I think I need some coffee...).

Author sods off to kitchen: spends 2 minutes reading the back of the coffee jar, 5 minutes staring out of the window whilst kettle almost boils itself dry and longer than strictly necessary stirring in the sugar. Ah... procrastination...

OK. I'm back and more importantly I have caffeine. You might think that I am a bit of a pessimist believing that resolutions are a pointless (they are; just look at a list of UN resolutions!), but I consider myself a realist, which I believe is somewhere in the middle of optimism and pessimism. No, I prefer instead to reflect upon what happened the year before and learn from the mistakes I made or the success that I enjoyed. 2011 was a tough year, or at least tougher than 2010; though both were easy compared to 2009. A large part of the trials that I experienced were the result of external events that I could neither predict, nor prevent. I was simply swept along by circumstances beyond my control. However, they did provide me with a great lesson to apply to 2012: enjoy the little things. For example, I can cope with a rough day provided I end up in my own bed at night with a good book or if I can take some time to watch a good film/play a good game. It just means making the best out of a crappy situation. I guess it all comes back the the CBT technique 'Mindfulness'. Here's hoping it will help me in 2012.

Happy New Year!

Well, here we are on the threshold of another year; according to the Christian churches, the 2012th since the birth of Christ (who hasn't aged a day). It is also the year that the world is set to end according to the Mayan calender and crazy people everywhere (I mean what did the Mayans know except for human sacrifice, dangerous roads and building pyramids wrong). Yes the world could end tomorrow but it's the same every day. The probability of this happening however is smaller than Nicholas Sarkozy. Religion it seems is impervious to science and statistics. 

You may be wondering why it has taken me a lot longer to produce a new post. Had I fallen down a well? Got lost whilst traversing the Sahara dessert? Frozen myself in order to skip 3 or 4 months into the future? Well, none of the above (brain freeze when eating an ice-cream too fast is painful enough!). My internet was down and it has taken me the best part of a month and hours on the phone to get it back up again. Needless to say I have now switched providers to a company less incompetent than the last (they weren't even trying!!!). So now I am back on-line! I just need to think of something to write now...