TechyDad

Often, Asperger’s is portrayed as a condition that has nothing but negative consequences.  Those "suffering" from it have trouble socializing, can be overly preoccupied with interests, and are rigidly confined to preset schedules.  However, there are many things about being an Aspie that are good as well.

What some people see as having trouble telling other people’s meaning, I see as being drama-challenged.  Oftentimes, people will take someone’s actions, read into the meaning behind said actions, and then pass judgment on that person.  They declare why those actions were not socially acceptable and how the person should change in order to fit into their idea of what is allowed.

I, on the other hand, often don’t see these "hidden meanings."  I take people at their word unless they prove untrustworthy.  (Even then, I’ll often give them a second or third chance.)  I don’t tend to hate people even when I probably should.

Part of this might be naiveté on my part or never-ending optimism, but part is my inability to see the subtle nuances of social interactions.  The social world, as I understand it, is much simpler than how others see it.  While, this might not match up with reality, I think I prefer the simple, trusting view to the "what did they really mean when they said that" perspective or the "that glance had this hidden meaning" vantage point.

Asperger’s also brings with it a tendency for honesty.  I find it very hard to lie.  Small lies are ok, especially if there’s a good reason behind them.  ("No, I haven’t bought you a birthday present and it certainly isn’t hidden in the room over there.")  However, the bigger the lie, the harder it is.  Oftentimes, the truth just spills out of my mouth before my brain has the chance to veto it.  Like the time when, while trading my old car in for a new one, I mentioned how we thought the old car’s transmission might be going.  There was no reason to say that, but it was the truth and the salesman HAD asked why I was looking to buy a new car (in what I all-too-late realized was just small talk).  I don’t know if that affected the trade in value that I got, but it couldn’t have helped.

Still, on the bright side, B can be sure that I’ll never lie to her about anything important.  On the rare occasions that I’ve tried, it feels like the truth is burning inside of me and inflating like a balloon.  It is only a matter of time before it comes bursting out.

Finally, what some see as being overly preoccupied with interests, I see as an ability to dive deep into things that you like.  Others might read a book, but Aspies can totally immerse themselves in the tale.  Others might watch a TV show, but Aspies can tune out the rest of the world so that the only thing left is the screen.  Others might study a subject, but Aspies devour every aspect of it.

I think the best example of this tends to be when B and I watch Doctor Who.  Even though I’ve seen the episodes before, I become transfixed.  I can’t type on the computer or look away.  If I get interrupted, I have an overwhelming need to rewind and rewatch the entire scene again.  I have to see every visual and hear every line.  Even if I can recite the entire show by heart, I need to totally "zoom in" on it.

Meanwhile, B is knitting or crocheting right next to me while watching.  Oftentimes, I wonder if she’s even watching at all.  After all, she doesn’t express concern when the Daleks arrive.  She barely raises an eyebrow when the episode’s bad guys threaten to wipe out humanity.  She certainly doesn’t cheer when the Doctor saves the day using only his brain.  This is the difference between watching the show and hyper-focusing in on it.

Perhaps this hyper-interest was best summed up by geek-extraordinaire Wil Wheaton.  During a recent convention, a woman asked him to tell her newborn daughter why it was so awesome to be a nerd.  His tale of delving deep into interests struck a nerve with me.  (Excuse the shaky-cam.  The mother taking the video was so touched by Wil’s words that she completely didn’t realize her shot wasn’t perfectly still.)  What he said about being a nerd is equally applicable to those with Asperger’s.

Though our view of the social world may be very shallow, Aspies tend to love things deeply and intensely.  Yes, Asperger’s brings with it many challenges, but it also brings many rewards.  If I had the chance to suddenly become neurotypical, to toss aside all of the stumbling blocks that Asperger’s put in my way, I don’t think I would.  Asperger’s isn’t something I suffer from.  It’s part of who I am.  While it might have held me back in some ways, it has also, in many other ways, lifted me up higher than I could have gone had I not been an Aspie.

Dealing with NHL’s Asperger’s traits has more than it’s share of challenges.  One of the more frustrating aspects is the tendency of NHL to fixate on something.  Be it a task or a specific item, NHL will obsess about it until he drives us crazy.

His latest obsession is his weight.  Thanks to shuffling a few things in the bathroom, the scale was available for use for the first time in awhile.  Of course, as with anything new (or "newly available"), NHL and JSL had to use it.  The difference is that, while JSL tried it once and was done with it, NHL kept weighing himself over and over.  He was clearly obsessed.

Now, this obsession had nothing to do with weight loss.  He wasn’t seeing himself as overweight and needing to drop some poundage.  That thought never entered into his head.  Instead, this was a purely numbers-based obsession.  He weighed a certain amount two hours ago, would his weight be different now?  What about in an hour from now?  What about after eating a meal?  What if he was in his PJs instead of his clothes?

We needed to act fast to help him get over the obsession, but simply banning the scale wouldn’t do.  That would just make it a forbidden item and he would try to sneak in weighings.  He’s bad at sneaking things so he’d be caught and get in trouble.  That wouldn’t stop him from trying, though.  Instead, I set up rules to use the scale.  I told him that he could weigh himself once a month, on the first day of the month, with either his mother or me present (so he couldn’t weigh himself, claim he hadn’t done so, and get in a second weighing).  I gave in to one more request of his – one bonus weighing on his birthday.  Hopefully, this will turn stepping on the scale from a minute-by-minute update into a monthly routine (or better yet, something he forgets all about in a month’s time).

Of course, NHL isn’t the only one who can be obsessed.  I often have to fight my own obsessive tendencies.  A few weeks back, I recalled a card game I used to play called Nuclear War.  You would draw a hand and use the nuclear weapons you drew to obliterate your opponents’ population.  The twist was that a played that lost all of their population could wage one final strike by launching everything in their hand at anyone and everyone.  Often you’ll end games with nobody left alive.

How does this relate to obsession?

Well, after I remembered this card game, I tried to think of where I put it.  I knew I had seen it recently, but couldn’t recall.  Too late, I was obsessed.  I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  When I tried, it was like there was a little me perched on my shoulder talking to me.

"Where could that be?  Maybe in the attic.  You should really go check in the attic."

I’d try to ignore the voice of my obsession, but it would continue.

"I know it is 10pm at night, but if you’re really quiet you could sneak up there with a flashlight and look.  Come on.  Just go up there and rip apart a few boxes looking for it.  It’ll only take one hour – three tops…."

Even if I was out of the house, a portion of my brain would be mentally searching the house to remember just where I last saw the game.

Thankfully, the other day, I happened to glance over to a spot I had passed a dozen times and spotted the case that the game was in.  I was now able to end my obsession and get on with my life.

Until the next obsession hits, however.