Autism

Celebration, Overwhelm – and a smirk.

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Last week was a lot, and this week has continued. Like many Autistics with HSP, I put others first. I am terrible at knowing my limits, and holding my boundaries.

Awareness

2 weeks ago, a teacher at my school shared with me the research his gifted students had been doing. It was all on an online platform. They had been researching autism, and were preparing a presentation about it. so I went on this platform and I wrote down some notes for the students. Just some observations based upon their writing. Some suggestions for terminology. things like this.

Many of the students were in my class over the last few years. So I was sure they would know who I was making the notes.

Last Wednesday was the day for their presentations.

I love that they had done the research. I love that they had visited a school for stage 3 autists in Beijing. and that they had observed with their own eyes. None of them interacted with the students at that school, but it was a step.

Due to time constraints, they had all 4 presentations at the same time. they put up 4 tables, not far from each other in our Highschool Library. I wanted to support them so much. But I couldn’t hear well. four different speeches at the same time. with videos and observable media.

At one point, I sat next to one computer and closed my eyes, to hear the video over the talking. It was near impossible.

In the end, I was at one group while the others packed up. This group was explaining to me, and our head of school. When they finished, the head of school asked them about meeting autistic people. I am standing beside him, my lanyard strap covered with pins that all say “Autistic”, “I am Autistic”, “Neurodivergent” etc. The students pointed to me.

He looked at me and asked if I had connection to Autism. I have worked closely with this man for 4 years, and I had to tell him that I was autistic. I had come out in front of the entire school earlier this year, but he was absent. He had a lot of questions, and that attention made me feel awkward.

Celebration

The very next day was my son’s Graduation. I was excited, and anxious, and so many different things. I love my Son. I am proud of my son, and all he has accomplished.

I forget, that my school never does anything small. The kids deserve an amazing celebration. And I guess Allistic people like disco lights and loud music, and red carpets. I could watch center stage, or I could watch the live broadcast (While inside the celebration). But If I tried to look anywhere but the exact center stage, I was blinded by a disco-laser-spotlight thing.

My son and his band performed some songs, amazingly. I couldn’t watch it. They were on a side stage. I recorded it, but if i looked up, I would get a laser in my face.

I love that the children had a big red carpet like moment. Their Big day. But after the family lunch, I had to go home and get away. It was too much. I actually shivered while sitting on the couch by myself for 2 hours.

Family time.

I made the mistake of taking my family to the Mall over this past long weekend. My youngest loves the mall. But long weekends are too busy. My oldest children escaped after lunch. They took a car home. It was too loud and too many people for them. I stayed with my wife and youngest. She had a great time.

I love spending time with my family. I always feel terrible if I need time to regulate, or recover from over stimulation.

These are the times I struggle the most. I want to show my family I love them. I want to do amazing things with them. I want to get out and make memories. I just cannot do it with too much noise, lights, or people.

And it compounds.

If any one of these things had happened in a week, I would be fine. But all three of them within only a day or so apart, it makes things so much harder. I had to spend Monday curled on the sofa for the most part.

Smirk.

I have been trying to use as much time as I can during my break times to relax and regulate. It is End of Year, and there is a lot of paperwork that needs to be filled out, including self-reflections. I have been staying afloat, barely.

Today was a very difficult day, but it ended with something that made me smile.

My friend, who works with the gifted students, came up to me. One of the girls in his class was a student of mine. She published a tiny book about moving to a new place, and it convinced me to publish my own book. Well she came up to him and had questions about why I was giving so much feedback on her writing. And he let her know that I was autistic, and he told me he could see her coming to realization. He could see her piecing our year in grade 3 back together with this new information. He said she was surprised, but happy to know.

It made me smile.

And then I came home and passed out on the sofa for 2 hours.

Button Mashing Through Life

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Back when I was just a lad—you know the expression: knee-high to a grasshopper and all that—I used to play video games. (Not so much anymore.)

There was this one fighting game I played at home or at friends’ houses. It had almost no story. Just street brawls between characters from around the world. Nobody cared about the plot—except me. But that’s not really the point of today’s post.

You’d press buttons on the controller, and your character would attack, block, jump. If you pressed the buttons in just the right order, the character might throw a fireball or do a spin kick across the screen.

I could never pull that off.

More than once, I got accused of being a button masher—just frantically hitting buttons and hoping something cool would happen. I’d try to do a special move, and my guy would just… punch the air or crouch awkwardly.

So I fell back on the basics: jump, block, basic attack. Over and over. It was apparently the wrong way to play. “Cheap shots!” they’d say. “Come on, learn the moves!” But if I didn’t do it my way, I couldn’t play at all.

Then it got worse.

They released a Turbo Edition—it had more characters, sure, but the real feature? Speed. Everything moved faster. I barely kept up before, and now I was just mashing buttons in panic.

My friends got so good that they’d put the controller on the floor and play with their toes against me. One friend even disabled special moves entirely—and still had better reflexes.

It felt like the whole world had mastered this game. Meanwhile, I was barely hanging on, mashing buttons and hoping for a lucky win. It was frustrating. Honestly, I still can’t play real-time combat games. I just don’t think that fast.

But this isn’t just about video games.

Social Button Mashing

Growing up? Socializing? Going to school?

I was button mashing there, too.

Other kids seemed to know how to play the social game. They’d banter, joke, move from game to game, conversation to conversation, like they had the manual. I didn’t. I was just doing random things and hoping they were the right ones.

People made jokes, and I’d laugh—if others did. I usually didn’t get the punchline until an hour later. People told me things, and I believed them… until I found out later that I shouldn’t have.

My older brother used to ask me, “Do you want a USA?”

He never explained what that meant. The first few times, I said yes. I eventually learned that “USA” stood for Unexpected Sack Attack. A literal kick in the crotch.

It took me a few times to understand that it was always going to be a kick in the crotch.

So if I flinch when Americans say their country’s name, now you know why. And I apologize.

I spent years trying to play the game I thought everyone else was playing. I stuck to the same safe moves—repeat, duck, cover. But that’s exhausting. And lonely.

Turn-Based Thinking

That’s why I started playing role-playing games instead. In those games, nothing moved until I was ready. I could breathe. I could think. I could pause the world and plan my next step.

RPGs were like puzzle games where emotions and decisions mattered. I loved that.

And for a while, I believed that maybe I could learn how to be “normal” from these games—how people talked, how they handled problems, how they grew. They gave me space to try on different roles.

Looking back, I wasn’t just trying to win—I was trying to keep up. Trying not to fall behind in conversations, in friendships, in growing up. I wasn’t ‘playing wrong’—I just had a different controller, and that’s an important distinction.

Eventually, I realized something even better than games though.

Books were the real key.

Books didn’t judge how fast I turned the page. They didn’t expect instant reactions. They let me live someone else’s story for a while. And somewhere in all those pages, I started figuring out my own.

Blankets

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There is something amazing about a blanket. It is calming and comforting. Everyone should have a blanket.

I look back at Linus from the Peanuts comics. He was always seen with his blanket. My family used to call it a security blanket. He used to wear it as headgear or use it as a whip, but for me, that’s not realistic.

Ford Prefect from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy always carried a towel.  In a way, it was his security blanket. But of all the uses mentioned, wrapping yourself up tightly wasn’t one of them.

I read and hear a lot about weighted blankets helping neurodivergent and autistics out. When I  was younger, I loved heavy blankets, and for years I never equated the two.

A heavy or weighted blanket puts a constant warm soft pressure on your body. That pressure helps you feel safe and calms you down when stressed.

For me, it is like a full body hug. A hug from someone who never judges you, never demands anything,  and never needs to break the hug until you are ready. I particularly enjoy snuggling in a blanket.

Unfortunately, when I got married, I didn’t have the words to explain my need for blankets.  I had always assumed everyone loved them like I do. My wife was raised without blankets. Where she was raised, in the tropics, blankets were more of a status symbol.

For the first few years of marriage,  my side of the bed had blankets at night. And even today on warm nights, she doesn’t use blankets. And heavy blankets are only for cold nights.

We have both adjusted to each other’s needs. Sometimes, with two different blankets on the bed.

But blankets are not just for beds. Our living room has a couple of thin blankets.  On stressful days, I will return home and cocoon myself on the sofa. Or half cocoon on medium stress days.

Cocooning is when you wrap the blanket tightly around yourself.  It gives the same comfort as a weighted blanket. I may lay down completely cocooned and isolated for a few hours.

On less stressful days, I will half cocoon. I wrap the blanket tightly around my legs and lower torso. Then I can drink tea or use the remote control to watch TV.

When in this mode, the TV is mostly for white noise. It doesn’t really matter what comes on. As long as it takes my mind off the day.

Tonight, I am up at a lodge for a church retreat with my family. My children and I are delighted that there are heavy blankets on all the beds. Just sitting here with it is relaxing.

Goodnight, I hope you all have amazing blankets