Awkward from the inside: what it's like being the person who looks awkward

Sometimes I think things are going pretty well and I'm managing OK, and I was just thinking over the last week or so how I was really pleased that although I am tired and busy I've not been feeling too 'autistic tired.'

Then along came today and reminded me that really I am autistic, and I'm just not like other people, and I can't do the things they do.

Two events during the day reminded me of this, the first coming straight away when I got to work. One of my colleagues has been going through an absolutely terrible time with some really sad and traumatic stuff to get through, and she started telling about it mostly to my other two colleagues (she knows them well, but doesn't really know me as I only started there a few months ago when the stuff started happening, so I don't feel I can really ask about it) while I was also standing nearby.

Well, I have so much empathy for her, I just want to be able to say or do things make make it better for her, or at least for her to know that is my intention. But I have no idea of the things to say or do. I don't know her well enough to go and give her a hug, and she hasn't told me personally about any of it, which I wouldn't if it were the other way round, but obviously she has talked about it when I'm there so I know about it. I didn't know whether I should go away and busy myself with another job so she could talk to them, or whether I should join them, I had no idea of anything that would be the right thing to say (luckily the other two had loads of great words) and couldn't give her a hug or anything.

I think this is how the whole empathy thing plays out in real life for me. I care so much, and I understand others' pain, but I am often incapacitated to do anything about it, unless I know the person very well. So it looks like I don't care, which is just the opposite of the truth. Or even worse, I could make it worse by being awkward, so I try not to do that, and not to give the impression of being uncomfortable, because that's the last thing someone in that situation needs.

I wish people could know I want to be with them in their sorrows and trials, their downs and ups, and I want to help. Maybe one day I'll learn how.


The second situation was a celebration for a colleague I barely know, with basically all the staff present. Painfully awkward from beginning to end. I stuck myself like glue to the two people I work with and copied them. Where do I walk? Where do I sit? Quick, bag a seat next to person I'm hiding behind. Shouldn't have my back to anybody, but have to here. Who should I have my back to? I can't just do nothing, must follow them to get cake or people with think it's weird if I don't eat anything. Accept a drink, any drink - it's too difficult to choose and you're weird if you don't have one. Just say anything's fine, or "surprise me" (not "whatever": that's rude even if it means the same thing). Listen to the conversation, focus, stop zoning out and examining your fingernails, don't rub your nails on your face, make appropriate noises and faces so people don't notice you haven't said anything. Safer not to say anything even if you wanted to: it might go wrong, people will look, it won't come out how you meant, people won't know why you even said it. It might stop the conversation. So just make the noises and faces. How soon can I leave? How do I get out? Who do I need to say goodbye to? What do I need to do with my glass and rubbish?

And go home. To an empty house: I need that right now.

Wish

As a photo never does justice to a sunset, my words are a shadow of what is within.

The special people are the ones who saw, who looked for a way in to what was underneath. Time. They gave the inside me a value, they gave me hope that I was reachable and worth reaching. They saw my quietness in the chaos of many lives.

They help me be the me I want to be (but can't imagine) and let me be the me I am.

Gently find the way in

Hold me

Listen to my silence

Need people, but the people hurt.

I need nobody, too.

Is it worth the payback no-one sees? Payback just for me.

Inside, but I can't get it out. Inside, but I can't get in.

So much, so much inside. I wish you could read me, like a book. You could tell me the story.

Love. Love so much it hurts. No empathy is a lie, a misconception.

I wish

But how?