The Life Autistic: Children are the Best Escape

Here she is – my greatest little escape artist.

Not just on her own, but for my escapes too.

This is Zo, my youngest, most focused, fierce, determined little girl. Don’t let the eyes fool you: it’s a trick to sucker you into letting her get away with whatever she sees fit to do.

I’ve got musings and a half on my kids and on each of them, but for all of her strong-willed excursions and fate-tempting boundary stretches, Zo has been one of my biggest helps lately.

She gives me a focal point when I need an out

Zo’s still kind of a baby, sometimes the youngest in the room. Depending on the awkwardness of the context, I’ll volunteer to feed her or watch her or (try to) keep her from trouble. Otherwise, I’m stuck at a table making eye contact and small talk, and frankly, I’ll take my chances wandering around with the kiddo.

She runs away, so I don’t have to

Zo doesn’t mind being with people, but she’s way more intent to play with things of interest, like cats and playground equipment. On two days in a row, she sneaked away to both, and — hey, she needs adult supervision with cats, claws, slides, stairs, etc., so I can deftly slip away from the people milieu and engage her without needing to justify a people break

When she’s *done* — I can be done too

Sometimes it’s the best to bring Zo along. When she’s done, she is D-O-N-E. Me? I’m a little more subtle with the meltdowns, but Zo is a baby: she tires, gets cranky, decides to stop behaving. And there are days when I’ve just gassed out my social tank, but I know it’s going to be awkward to haul up and leave. But if the baby is hurling and chucking a tantrum? Well then, that’s the socially acceptable queue to get outta dodge.

I know Zo’s going to grow up, get a little more congenial and mingle for much longer than she does now. But I’m going to miss her at this stage, where she’s my perfect accomplice in escapes on The Life Autistic.

The Life Autistic: Hugs, Hugs, and more Hugs

When I travel on business, there’s a lot of hugs.

“But H2, I thought you autistic folk didn’t like hugs!”

Some do, some don’t!

I know they’re going to happen, I plan well, I’ve mastered my distance, steps, duration, high-low-you-name it.

It’s part of meeting and greeting and I roll with it!

This past visit, I’ll share the encapsulation of the experience.

Across from me were three of my primary customers who I saw for the first time in person. As they came in line, I realized what was up.

This is going to be a conga line of HUGS.

YES.

I’m two folks in, and the third fellow asks “Wait, who is this and why are we hugging him?”

“Oh!” they exclaimed, “it’s H2!”

*SQUEE* MORE HUGS

To some of you, this is normal and 100% unremarkable.

To others, this may be a terror, in which your space feels violated and senses assaulted.

The Life Autistic is a spectrum, a complicated one, where even the simplest embraces might not be so simple.

I wish I could say I worked my way up from crippling anxiety here, but it was more just overcoming awkwardness step by step, hug by hug, embracing the embrace.

Of course, it’s easy when the hugs just go around.

Just don’t ask me what to do when a non-greeting situation calls for a hug, because I’m still figuring that one out! I’ll take tips, please and thank you. ^_^

The Life Autistic: Why We’re Never All That Excited about Anything

My wife, a wonderful human, has come to me quite often before, expressing her jubilation over legitimately awesome things: artwork, design, experiences, even things that happen to me — you name it.

She’ll then turn and ask:

“Aren’t you excited?”

I nod.

I grin, even.

I do try to sell it.

“…yeah….no?”

She hasn’t yet stormed off after asking what’s wrong, or how any normal human could fail to be excited or enthusiastic about things.

But we know.

I’m not a normal human.

I don’t get all that excited about stuff.

While depression is a serious challenge that many of us autistics face in some shape or another, that’s not always the root of our excited-less-ness.

Emotions are tough for us to understand, to process, assimilate, and synthesize. Not that we lack them, but they wax and wane in different ways, and not always for what we should get excited over.

But it’s OK.

We get that you’re excited, and we’re happy for you.

We’re just not always on the same bandwidth. We get excited about different stuff.

My wife chided me for being more giddy over the BattleBots final than I was for when I was promoted at work, or something truly important.

We’d help if if we could.

So am I excited, ever?

Rarely.

But I’m OK.

Blaze it abroad

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Blaze it abroad

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Blaze it abroad

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