Autism

The Healing School.

Autism, Musings, School, , , , Leave a comment

Today was a busy day for me.

One of the things that happened today was the student council lunch. I have done my best to support our student council for the past 4 years. Today was their end of year lunch. One of my students who is in the council invited me to join the lunch. I have never been to one of their lunches before, and so was very honored.

I got to eat and mingle with the student council members. I was joined by Ms Albor, our Council head teacher and head of our school spirit. Ms Jessie, our Assistant principal of student well-being, and Mr Brown, our Principal, also participated.

The table I was sitting with, noticed my lanyard, and one of the girls asked about my autism. I told her a bit about how masking works. It makes it hard for me to eat certain foods. One of the foods that was on today’s special menu was chicken legs. I love chicken. Fried. I explained that I can’t eat the chicken they provided. It had sauce all over it, and I would get sticky fingers. I explained that sticky fingers is a sensation that I cannot handle well.

When she complimented me by saying I don’t act like the autistic people she had to research. I bit my tongue first. She is a student who is honestly trying to learn more. I did not tell her that the expression of not looking or acting autistic is hurtful. Instead, I told her that I spend a lot of my mental energy masking all day. I do this so I appear like everyone else. This was not the answer she was expecting, but was polite about it.

Mr Brown made an amazing speech about leadership. I was so happy to hear it, but to also see the children listening to it. You see my special requirements precluded my ability to be part of Student Council or other similar clubs and activities as a child. That’s one reason I support them every time I can.

All in all, I think I handled this well, and helped someone understand a part of my experience.

Today was also, the day that my school said farewell to leaving teachers. My good friend James (Mr. K) made a speech for me. It was heartfelt. He told me later about his thoughts of “Roasting” me. Every other speech maker had done this to their chosen leaving teacher. However, he decided against it. I’m glad he did.

But after I was expected to say something, and up in front of everyone, my mind went blank. I at first could only say something along the lines of “I have nothing.” Then I realized that it would be considered rude. I didn’t want to be seen as rude, not as I am leaving the school. So My mind scrambled for something to say, but I couldn’t think.

Eventually it settled upon how the past four years have had ups and downs. There have been mostly positives. I would miss everyone.

Like many things in my life: Hours later, when I can think straight, I know what should have been said.

BIBA has been a place of healing. I came in immediately from a school I had been at for a very long time. Near the end of my time there, someone had used the knowledge of my autism as a political weapon. When I arrived here, I had nightmares for months about this happening again.

BIBA, and Dennis, our empathetic leader, has helped me recover from that. You all helped me, whether you knew it or not, deal with almost losing my mother twice. Once from a near fatal car accident, in 2021. Once from cancer. In 2023, My mother was given 3 months to live. She is still fighting the good fight. This school was there to help me figure out my head when I lost aunts and uncles. You where hereto help me deal with many other family catastrophes in just 4 years. My team, James and Kai both helped me when I had shut downs, and meltdowns. When I finally felt I had to reveal my autism here, I was welcomed with open arms.

The Student Support Team welcomed my ideas for Pink Shirt day, and consulted me on ideas for well-being month.

I created a support group for Dads at BIBA, and found an emotional support group in my Trauma Bonded friends.

I met wonderful friends here. My Dungeons & Dragons Team: Including Jeff & Pablo from KG. Friends who have left, or are leaving for other pasture: David Boddington, Richard, Frank, Dr Raven, Mark Nicholson, David Richards, Mark Markham, James Helbringer, Ed,

So many of you made working here special. Was it easy? No. It was exhausting. I would come home from work almost daily and pass out on the sofa. Waking later to play with my daughter or help her with homework.

But it also re-sparked my desire to write, and to help.

We are told everywhere, that if a company says that they are like a family, to run. run away as fast as you can. We are told this is a sign of overworking, and under paying for the illusion of family.

However, despite what we are always told, BIBA became like family to me, and my actual family.

I will miss you all. We will miss you all. Including your insane desire for loud music and seizure inducing light shows.

Pictures supplied by Dr. K.C. Pang. The heart and Soul of BIBA.

Celebration, Overwhelm – and a smirk.

Autism, Daily Life, Family, , , , Leave a comment

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

Autism, Daily Life, Games, Memoires, , Leave a comment

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.