Burning Passion, Everlasting Fear and Unapologetically Pride(3) — Autistic Communication
This is a very long paragraph, and I want to preface it with my intention of putting it in. I’ve talked to several Taiwanese friends, especially those who are Autistic. We’ve often wondered how we can interact/include, how we can set boundaries, and how we can communicate with other autistic people, especially in groups. I fully understand that every person on the autistic spectrum is different, but I think that my experience with Pasha in finding the ways to communicate might be useful for those who are also on the autistic spectrum, and for those who are trying to build a relationship with autistic people.
After that day, I tried my best to grasp the controllable things in my life. I went out for walks when the weather was good, regularly messaged other friends to go out for dinner, went shopping for warm clothes, and read in my room when the weather was bad. I’ve started to be more open about my experiences with other friends, and I’m especially grateful to my Taiwanese friend Wenjun for always patiently listening to my struggles.
I still cooked with Pasha every day, or at least chatted for a while in the evenings. And I began to notice that our strong traits made it necessary for us to find new ways of being together. I had read on the internet that although Autistics have trouble socializing in a neurotypical society, they tend to form deep, strong friendships with each other. At the time, I only thought it was an interesting point of view, but the way Pasha and I got along made me realize that because we think so similarly and enjoy deep conversations so much, this friendship is very deep and intense, but sometimes it also requires a lot of proactive communication and adjustment.
For example, the first thing we talked about was stimming, which in vernacular it’s the weird little things you do to relieve stress when you’re nervous. For him, it’s biting his hand, sometimes even to a degree that he bleeds. For me, it’s clicking on the table or shaking my hand, but it’s just a way to get rid of unexplained anxiety through physical movements. Outside, I usually play with the strap of my bag, or with my hair when I have long hair, because it doesn’t look weird. But when I’m with him, I don’t worry. Because I know it’s a part of me and he’s totally cool with it.
But there are times when I need to communicate with him. Sometimes, going out together can be a big challenge. I need rules, I like to plan all the transportation, the time, what I’m going to do, and he’s a bit more spontaneous and sometimes even a bit chaotic. But what we have in common is that we are easily overstimulated, which means too much information to process at once. For me, it’s trying to keep things on track in an unfamiliar city and complete all the tasks I’ve planned; for him, it’s the memories and emotions stirred up by the similarities to Moscow in Warsaw, as well as the sound and light from the outside world, the crowds on public transportation, and the motion sickness.
I can see his emotions quite easily now. But it took me a while to figure it out. When he’s stressed, he talks all the time, and there’s a lot of things he’s already talked about, about his university, about his academic pursuits, about all the memories of Moscow, about how inhumane the Russian regime is, and how he wants to go home after Putin’s regime collapses. I know he misses home, and I know he needs to tell himself that he can do it, that he has done so much, and that he can certainly keep going in the future.
But I don’t know what to say. Or it’s hard for me to respond to him when we’re watching the bus, going to the grocery store, making sure of the time, making sure of where we are. And sometimes I’m in my own emotions. I would shut down almost automatically and then I would become very sensitive to any stimuli. But I know he’s hurting, and I know he encourages himself by talking about everything. But it’s hard for me to respond to that in my exhausted state.
But I think the good thing about us both being very open is that I know I can talk to him about it. And he told me that sometimes he doesn’t want to talk all the time, but sometimes he just gets sucked into his own head, into his own world, and then he forgets that anyone else exists. I know what it’s like, and I feel like I’ve grown up suppressing it, so I feel the urge to talk all the time, but I’ve pretty much built it out of me. He told me that if he falls down that hole, just touch him gently or talk to him, and that’s it. If that doesn’t work, and I’m not in a position to listen, suggest that he call one of his other friends.
And I told him that when I feel overloaded with information, I can be unusually quiet or even cold. But make no mistake, that’s not rejection. It’s just that I can’t do it in a given moment. If I’m too quiet, ask me what’s wrong with me, because it’s hard for me to talk about it sometimes. When I’m in my own hole, I don’t, I can’t even talk about it. But I wanted my friends to be there for me, even to hold my hand or hug me gently, and I would slowly climb out of the hole in a feeling of safety.
I began to learn how to communicate my traits and needs. I used to think of myself as a very difficult person, and I still do. But I know that even so, I’m still a good person, so I can talk about it better than I can hold it in. It may be hard for some people to understand (not for Pasha, we’re both very special people), but I can try to do it. I’m beginning to understand that it’s not selfish to watch how much energy you have, but to really take care of yourself and those around you.
And I also think that for people like us, self-awareness is very important. And for our friends, sometimes we don’t know what we need, but it’s important and helpful for them to interrupt the discussion at the right time. We don’t like being alienated because we don’t know what we’re doing wrong.
It was also this experience that helped me see my own autistic nature. I did find my place in the world, and I made a lot of great social connections. But I also realized that I could be less repressed, I could communicate my needs and I could see the needs of others. These needs are different for each person, but with communication, there can be a lot less misunderstanding.
Understanding the needs of others is not the same as suppressing yourself. Rather, it is about knowing how we can adjust and cooperate in what kind of context. I started to listen to myself, and I know it’s really hard, but I know that in doing so, we can live more like ourselves. (to be continued)
Read other Chapters
1. Queer Autistic Friendship
2.Memories like avalanches
3. Autistic Communication
4.Expressing Queer Identity
5. Queer and Nationality
6. Healing IS Possible
