Social Incompatibility: Yet another thing that’s not true about this #Autistic individual

crowd of cheering people at an outdoor concertSupposedly, because I’m Autistic, I’m incapable of interacting with non-autistic people the way they want me to.

Untrue. I wish it were true, some days. ‘Cause all the interacting with neurotypical people just gets so exhausting. I’m bone tired, starting around 10:30 a.m., every single day I have to go out into the NT world. And I just get more tired, throughout the course of each day. The nonsensical decision making and priorities are just so wearing

But what’s an Autie to do? I’ve gotta make a living, and that means I have to get out in the thick of things, figure out how to navigate it all, and just get on with my life.

I also need to interact with other people on a regular basis. I can’t speak for anyone else, but if I don’t get out and interact with the world every few days or so, my thought process starts to get pretty “out there”. I get a little suspicious and paranoid, actually. And my mind starts telling me all sorts of things that aren’t entirely true. I need people around (in person, not just online) to provide details I’m overlooking in my very rigid thinking. I need them to keep me grounded.

It helps me.

But it’s not easy. Oh, no. It’s not easy at all. I mean, I’ve figured out some tips and tricks and whole lotta hacks that will get me through social interactions without offending everyone in sight and pissing off people who misunderstand me. But it doesn’t come naturally to me.

And therein lies the “rub”, as they say.

Because my hacks work. My clandestine stimming, concentrating on a place on someone’s face that isn’t their eyes, nodding periodically, using a finely tuned prosody and cadence to my speech… it’s all very effective. It’s attractive, even. Which means people want to interact with me. They love to interact with me. They seek me out. They come looking for me at work. They look me up online. They ping me on social media. They hang out with me at the 2 parties I go to, each year. They say they want to see more of me. They invite me to their homes. They invite me to events. They want me around, and they love my company, because I can offer them something they can’t get anywhere else — compassion, empathy, focus on them as the center of my world when I’m with them, interesting trivia (yep, got lots of that), laughter, relaxation, acceptance.

People love me. They can’t get enough of me.

In the words of the Talking Heads, “My god. What have I done?

It seemed like a good idea, to develop all these coping mechanisms over the years. And they have all helped me to get good jobs and keep them and provide for my household at a level that most Autism researchers would probably declare impossible for someone “with my impairments”. But it comes at a cost. It all comes at a cost.

And that cost is exhaustion.

Well, fortunately, I’ve figured out some ways to get through, even if I am worn down to the bone. I keep going. I focus on the task at hand. I amuse myself periodically throughout the course of each day. And I have my early mornings to myself, as well as part of my evenings. I manage to wedge in things I really love, here and there, punctuating the interminable slog that is my life in the non-autistic world with moments of sheer bliss.

So, that’s something.

And it makes the rest of my life possible. Which is good. Because nothing truly worthwhile comes easy, I believe. And I can’t expect the rest of the world to accommodate me. Other people have their own problems, and my challenges are not even on their radar. If I want to keep a job, stay out of jail, keep a roof over my head, keep the cars in the garage, save money for emergencies… basically, have an adult life, I have to make choices and sacrifices. That’s how the whole adulting things goes, and our current climate of hyper-customization and convenience and being catered to and accommodated at every turn is not helping people cope with the inevitable challenges of just living a responsible and rewarding life.

Life as I experience it is a series of challenges which involve to varying degrees a regular influx of frustration, pain, anguish, sadness, disappointment, disillusionment, betrayal… you name it. But that’s how it goes. And if I want to have the life I need to have, I’ve got to figure out how to manage it all.

Which I do. Including the social stuff.

That being said, I have to get myself ready for work. I’m going in to the office today, after being home yesterday (I had nonstop meetings on the phone from 8:30 – 4:30, which is its own particular brand of misery for me). I’m going to be around people who are unrealistic, insecure, demanding, politically devious, clueless, and socially needy. That’s the deal. And I voluntarily engage with these people, learning tons about myself in the process, and making a living at it, too.

I’m not a fan of it all. But they love me.

So, that’s something.

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7 thoughts on “Social Incompatibility: Yet another thing that’s not true about this #Autistic individual

  1. I feel you about being a person people actually seek out to talk to, especially at work. I guess I’m good at it. And I’m often very good at interacting with non-autistic people on their terms. The price, besides obvious ones like exhaustion, comes in my closest relationships, where I struggle. My partner now is struggling to understand that the times she points out where I’m different and she believes I’m scripting or “faking it” are in reality the times when my ability to mask slips, at least a little. But also that I’m not “being fake” other times. I worked really, really hard from a very young age to learn how to interact with people in such a way that they understand what I intend. It’s an ongoing process. It’s also not like I can somehow just stop “masking”. I have no memory what that would be like and much of what I do is deeply, deeply habituated.

    Liked by 1 person

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