November first, two thousand eighteen
November is an interesting month for many. For most people in the United States, it is a time of preparing for Thanksgiving and family coming to visit. For some, it is a time of sadness, where they remember loved ones who have passed away in the past year. For me, it is the anniversary month of when I finally got help for my depression and anxiety issues. For me, it is the month when my life was saved.
I first had an encounter with depression and suicidal ideations when I was eleven. I was an early bloomer, and was amongst the first of the girls to get my period. I was also being bullied, because I was "weird" and tended to over react to things. I did not know it at the time, because I was misdiagnosed or maybe partially misdiagnosed, with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder - Inattentive Type. I do not remember exactly when I first felt like I wanted to die, but I know it was when I was eleven.
That year, I had to stand outside the trailer that was my fifth grade classroom each day before the teacher arrived, because I had had a negative reaction to a classmate standing directly behind me. I was the one punished, not the classmate. The reason I reacted badly was because my younger sibling liked to hit me when he would stand directly behind me, and I panicked when my classmate stood behind me, because I was afraid of being hit again. My parents agreed with the teacher deciding that I was in the wrong, and saw no problems with me standing outside the classroom, even in the middle of winter in the Midwest, when the weather was blisteringly cold.
It may seem like I am just making this up. I really wish I had imagined it. Sadly, I did not imagine it. It was not uncommon for me to be punished for my reactions to how my classmates treated me, with them not being punished at all. The only time I did not have that happen was with my art teacher in high school, but I will get to that eventually. Basically, I was treated like the problem when it was my classmates who acted like utter assholes, and most of the adults who were supposed to be advocates refused to be an advocate for me.
My next experiences with depression and anxiety were in high school, but I did not recognize them for what they were at the time, because I was so stressed dealing with schoolwork, and asshole bullies who would throw pens and pencils at me when I was sitting out of the way by my locker. The school staff would not do anything about it besides victim blame me, which really pissed me the fuck off, especially because I was being physically, emotionally, and verbally abused by my younger sibling. One of the worst times was when he punched me as hard as he could on my upper left arm, where I had previously broken the bone. That resulted in a massive bruise that appeared in minutes. I chose to write a letter to one of the guidance counselors, who happened to be the boss of my mother. I requested information on how to become an emancipated minor, because I was sick of dealing with all the abusive bullshit. It was enough to get the attention of my mother, who only agreed to bring the sibling in for a talk because it would have made her look bad to have a child who became an emancipated minor.
The one adult who really acted as an advocate for me was the art teacher at high school, Mr. Martinez. He recognized that I was not actually the problem student, and he would let me draw or make whatever I wanted, because I would sit quietly and work on my projects. I would irritate the hell out of my classmates because I would be sitting there drawing artistic nudes without getting into trouble. It was literally because I would sit quietly and not cause a ruckous that I was allowed to draw potentially questionable artwork. I loved being in art classes, because it was an outlet for me, and I genuinely enjoy creating artwork.
High school basically sucked balls for me, but being able to create made it suck slightly less. Art has always been an outlet for me. I genuinely enjoy making artwork and costumes and doll stuff. I love the creative process and the fact that I have something neat to show for my hard work. Especially when what I am making is incredibly detailed and complex.
I enjoy making Transformers costumes and fanart, because it is fun. I love showing off what I have made. Especially the costumes. I love running around in costume at conventions, even if it leaves me exhausted at the end of the day. I enjoy seeing the reactions to all my hard work. I can also combat my anxiety because I am able to slip into "Character Mode", where when I am in costume, I AM the character I am dressed up as. I am not Denver, the slightly socially awkward person who tries to not be annoying as fuck, I am Ravage, or I am Heatwave, or I am MegaEmpress. I literally BECOME the character.
I think part of that is because I am Autistic. I observe how others behave, and I study how characters behave, and because I have spent so much time observing, I am able to imitate very effectively. I am able to interact in society because I have observed so much as to how people interact and what is and what is not okay to say or do. I know there is a stereotype of Autism Spectrum Disorder and general assholery, but because I have been through so much poor treatment from people who were supposed to be my peers and advocates, I do my best to not be an asshole intentionally. I always worry that I've somehow pissed someone off because I did or said something that they did not find to be acceptable. So I tend to obsess over that, and worry about whether or not I am making someone upset.
That worry is part of the anxiety I deal with. I need a lot of reassurance from those close to me that I am not pissing them off, and I appreciate it when people tell me outright what they are and are not alright with being said or done. I do not do well with ambiguity. I do not do well with vagueness in spoken or written word. And part of the anxiety is worrying about if I am being annoying when I ask for clarification on things. I need things spelled out clearly, in simple language. Not because I do not understand big words, but because the simpler and more straightforward something is worded, the easier I understand it.
I know this is definitely due to being on the Autism spectrum. I have a difficult time with sarcasm as well, which can be trying because my boyfriend is fluent in sarcasm, to the point that it could be considered a second language for him. I can snark, and I am capable of being sarcastic, but I have trouble recognizing it from others. Also, my sense of humor is strange, and largely based in wordplay and puns. I appreciate a good twist on words and love puns, because I actually have a very sizeable vocabulary, despite all the swearing and obscenities I use on a regular basis.
I enjoy reading, though I do not get to do it as often as I would like, because of the fact that I live with animals and have to take one of them out to piss and shit on a regular basis. Said animal is also clingy as fuck, and will climb up to lay on my lap given half a chance. Maxwell is a smart dog, but I cannot turn my attention to anything but him if he jumps up onto my lap, because he will stick his nose in my face. I cannot even check my phone, because of that.
I long for the day when I can just sit down in a chair, read, and not be interrupted for several hours. I love having time where I am not doing anything too terribly taxing, and am just focusing on one task that I find enjoyable. This is why I enjoy taking long walks where it is just me walking around town, listening to my favorite podcast and music. I can walk for very long distances, despite being slow as hell. I am also capable of carrying a lot of stuff on my back. I am built not for speed, I am built for endurance.
I always was slow in gym class. I could never actually run a mile, but I can walk one easily, and can keep going. I have a feeling that I would be able to do long term costume wear in a full body Transformers costume at a convention. I would need a way to keep hydrated, and would need breaks for food and to stretch my back a bit, but I think I could do all day events. I know I would need good shoes, or at least a lot of padding in the feet.
One thing I notice, I tend to ramble and go off topic. I have a lot of things that are going through my head at any one moment. It is difficult for me to get things to stay stringed together in a coherent way sometimes. It gets worse when I get excited, because I have a hard time not just rambling and going on and on, speaking rapidly about a topic. It is hard to get things to come out in a way that does not just sound like nonsense.
No comments:
Post a Comment