Fine Mesh Part II: Sensory

Aside from language, I of course receive sensory information through a fine mesh. In fact perhaps this should have been Part I because the sensory world is more fundamental, but as a linguistic being my brain approached it through the linguistic lens first.

In the sensory plane my differentiations are again narrower and slight variation from normal or my expectation results in having to recategorise and my brain alerting me to "Error!". I think the narrowness of filter also means I can perceive sensory input as many, many pieces of data that I must process, rather than a whole or a few items. Or maybe the mesh is narrow because I perceive the input in that way?!

When perceiving through fine mesh, the simple data "I am hearing a sound and seeing a movement" may become "I am hearing another sound as well as the multitude of background noises, and the new sound is made up of differing pitches/timbres/volumes etc. I am also seeing a thousand new pictures a minute as something in my field of vision moves." My brain is trying to work out what all those pictures and sounds add up to and how that aligns with previous experiences to see whether I need to respond in any way.

It's no wonder I end up overwhelmed sometimes - even though I may not be consciously processing each item my brain is working overtime for me. A messy room becomes not just one messy room but 3264 (see "wild exaggeration" below!) items that need tidying.

It is said that autistic people tend to focus on the finer details rather than seeing the whole picture and it's hardly surprising if what we are perceiving is a whole lot of input that makes up the picture, rather than simply the picture! This goes for the metaphorical picture as well - any scenario in life such as a social situation or an event unfolding as well as a literal piece of art.

Perhaps prosopagnosia (face-blindness) is also related here. I am only very mildly affected by this, but maybe if I am perceiving many pieces of information it is harder to put them together to recognise one face. If there is a minor difference or lack of context the data don't all match so the connection is not made. And yet in compensating to over-recognise... maybe there is one feature that is similar and so in knowing that I need to make connections I assimilate the new face to one I know.

I've just realised that this chimes with something Temple Grandin speaks about in her book Thinking in Pictures that I was given for my birthday, and also Donna Williams in Somebody Somewhere. They both speak about fragmented perception and I have only just twigged that they are speaking of a similar (though in Donna Williams' case, much more extreme) idea. To literally see/hear/sense the fragments must be a very different way of being.

Another aspect of sensory input being finely sifted for me is similar to what I described in the previous post about linguistic accuracy. I may see things (or hear, smell, taste, feel etc) in a more precise or attuned way, so I might register a display at school not being straight or symmetrical more quickly than others and be more bothered by it. A speck of dirt on a dish I've washed is detected by my fine mesh and recategorised as "not clean". Perhaps that's why I love asymmetrical designs: errors don't glare in the same way, and an intentional "error" is fun because you meant it (cf. puns, wild exaggeration of numbers, language play like spoonerisms or swapping vowels, mismatched socks etc...). 

I tend to eat one food per forkful because too many flavours and textures at once are overwhelming and I don't taste or feel any of them - in fact it blew my mind when I realised as a grown up that some people would put meat and vegetables on their fork together! It had just never occurred to me to do that! I can enjoy them and taste them better one at a time, so I do. In a sauce, where the flavours should blend together sometimes I can't process them all like that and one gets picked on by my brain and that is all I can taste (usually salt but sometimes a herb or other spice). I only add salt to bland foods such as chips for this reason - then I am not missing out some other flavour by tasting the salt. Ma Peggy and Peggy Toes (one of Little Peggy's Aunties) have extremely fine meshes for taste - Ma Peggy couldn't drink milk from a particular supermarket for several years because she couldn't stand the flavour and Peggy Toes can detect a change in a familiar recipe in an instant, asking what has been done differently.

I don't have perfect pitch but my pitching is closer than average. A slight error in tuning is bothersome. Some CD/mp3 players have a function where the music can be slowed down or sped up and this is used at times in dance classes to match the music to the speed required for an exercise. I could always hear when this had been left on accidentally, even if just by one notch, and often nobody noticed unless I commented (when they would usually discount my tentative comment - which was actually a desperate plea to put me out of my misery! - unless they checked, when they always found it to be so!). Even when it had been set deliberately it caused me constant discomfort to hear the distortion even if slight. My fine mesh alerted me perpetually to the slight difference from normality: "This is wrong".

These are just some examples - I could probably find them for other senses, these are just those that pop to mind first.

As with my need for precision in language, these issues if verbalised can get me labelled as obnoxious, pedantic, fussy, a pain, so again I often try to mask by not raising them. Of course that makes my comments inconsistent and perhaps thus less believable and even more inviting of the judgmental labels. And the mesh or my tolerance for variation/error does change with my stress levels which means sometimes I notice less or am able to mask more.

Well, I've wandered far from the original beginnings of my musings but it's been very interesting! Some of it is just ideas or typing as I think so it might not make much sense or I might change my mind about it in future, but I'd be interested to hear your thoughts and experiences.

Do you have fine meshes or course meshes, or a variety? Do you like your mesh style? Are there other types of meshes I've not thought of beyond linguistic and sensory? 

For me, despite the extra brainspace it takes up in perceiving, understanding and interacting with the world and the anxiety caused by my mesh being different from a lot of people's, the world is tremendously beautiful through my detailed and nuanced lenses and I wouldn't want it any other way. Precision is pleasing, details are delightful and accuracy is absolutely blooming lovely.

Edited to add rambling thoughts:

Could another lens be social? What would a social fine mesh be? Narrowly defined roles, behaviour, phrases, patterns in communication. That is what autistic people try and do in order to understand non-autistic communication and "get it right". But of course there is no fine mesh and we are inevitably lacking in some way. So we wish for a fine mesh because we are fine-mesh people, but the non-autistic social world has no fine mesh.

Fine Mesh Part I: Language

I experience the world through a finer mesh than average. Perhaps that is a large part of what being autistic means to me.

Mr Peggy and I often observe that my definitions for things are narrower than his - colours, words, categories and subcategories of object. For me the window of variation before something becomes a different thing is small. It is also important to me that things are correctly identified. If the wrong (for me) word is used it is not accurate. Inaccuracy sets off an alert of "Error! This cannot exist! It is not true!" in my brain which is incredibly difficult to quiet without being resolved. The fine mesh makes this happen a lot more often.

So I tend to be very precise with language. Pedantic is a word that has been applied throughout my life - probably accurate ;) 

My need for accuracy is partly related to truth - as explained above if a "wrong" word is used it registers as untrue, untruth being close to intolerable. And of course my default outlook being black-and-white doesn't help! But also, if things are not accurate and true as expected, the chaos of the world becomes even more overwhelming. I am confused because I don't understand what people are talking about, or it takes me longer to work out. In conversation this just looks like I'm being an awkward pedant when in reality I'm working overtime to keep up. And to really top off the world's chaos, if I can't depend on one thing being true - sometimes the very foundation of my understanding of the world (language) - what can I depend on? If words and concepts can change their meaning what else can? What is stable and dependable? How can I share an understanding with someone else if we are working on different foundations? Everything swims and the constants that I function on sink beneath my feet. I mean, imagine if gravity just stopped being true, right?! It wouldn't only be my world that became topsy-turvy!

Even on a simple day to day level, imagine you visit a different part of the country and ask for a bun. In the North you'll get cake; in the South, bread. (Hey, even bread and cake can be a contentious divide - banana cake or banana bread?!) Surprising, even funny, as a one off, but imagine everything being like that. It would be completely incomprehensible, exhausting, terrifying. You'd have no idea what to expect. And knowing what to expect is hugely important to everybody, but especially to autistic people precisely for the reasons I'm talking about here: because the world is so chaotic and our base anxiety levels are so high, and because a slightly different alternative may be completely intolerable on a sensory level too (such as a slightly different texture or colour) - to be suddenly and unexpectedly faced with an intolerable experience instead of what you imagined/expected can be highly distressing.

As a side note, one way I consciously mask every day is to not correct external inaccuracies. I correct myself frequently when speaking (and when writing - it's why I use so many parentheses and go back and edit "intolerable" to "close to intolerable"), not because I am holding myself to some high standard or criticising myself, but because it is more natural than allowing a possible misunderstanding to remain. It is easier and less effort to refine for accuracy than to contain those impulses .

A lot of corrections to other people's speech or to written material do escape because I don't catch them quickly enough, and the masking doesn't always work very well because it turns out my face usually doesn't succeed in wearing the mask even if I restrain myself from comment. I come across as overly critical but I am actually spending a lot of energy on inhibiting reflexes to make everyone else more comfortable! In fact if I correct you a lot it means I feel more comfortable in your presence to mask less!! I wish it were easier for people to know that it's not personal, neither is it judgmental (people think I think they're stupid if I "correct" them, which ain't true!) and I'm not being obnoxious. I'm refiltering what they've said so that it fits through my fine mesh and I can process it better, nothing more, nothing less.

More to come on fine mesh through a sensory lens.

Memories

When I'm driving along or walking and autumn washes over me, I feel all scrunchy, and not in a good way.

When I first came out of hospital I was constantly assailed by completely overwhelming and uninvited memories. The slightest thing would trigger them and the emotions would take over me. It was exhausting, upsetting, and draining.

They come in ebbs and flows now; weeks where I'm much more here and now and weeks where I am being taken back in time throughout every day. New triggers pop up that I haven't met before and I'm back at day one, struggling to see the road through my tears as I remember somebody saying something a certain way, or filled with anxiety as I simply realise that something I am going to have to do may trigger memories. 

I can cope with the little ones that pop up a few times a day, snapshots of a time that seems so far away now, the odd turning over of the stomach. The unexpected ones and the new ones and the ones where the unidentified emotions just take you over or you've been dreaming about it all night and the feeling won't leave you are harder to deal with. 

It was a completely separate life. It doesn't fit into or link with my life outside. Nobody in my daily life has the same points of reference. That thing where people reminisce when something reminds them of a previous experience doesn't work, because none of my experiences from the last year are common to the people I spend my days with. You can't say "ah, remember that time when...?" If you want to share what's in your head (which is a big way most people communicate and build relationships, and occasionally it occurs to me to do so even though I am uncomfortable inviting attention by talking at the best of times, especially talking about myself) you have to tell them the whole story and they are still unlikely to really understand. It's not relatable, you'd just be the weirdo that's constantly talking about when they were in the loony bin... I also feel like that's somehow taboo, that I shouldn't talk about that time and that place in everyday "savoury" conversation, though I know this is probably just my own judgment. Over time I will build more recent experiences that do relate to my daily life and daily interactions and normal things that aren't about bonkers brains, but it seems that for the minute most of my recent frame of reference lies in that realm.

I don't know if I want to remember or not. It hurts, which is off-putting. Am I feeling like I am there again? Am I in the same emotional state as I was in at the time? Or am I having emotions about what it was like at the time? Do I feel like I want to be there again? Is my brain trying to experience it again because I have not finished processing overwhelming experiences? If I write about it in as much detail as possible will it help me to process? Sometimes I feel as though I need to go through everything in the minutest of detail with somebody safe and helpful, examining it all - what happened and how I felt about it and how I feel about it now. Being careful not to miss anything, until I am satisfied I have dealt with it all. I feel like the memories might become normal memories then with a normal level of emotion attached, just a part of the story.

I think not being able to share them stops me from integrating these memories into my story. They don't belong anywhere; they are in a separate box, largely to be got out only with my fellow loonies, then put back in again as I go back to real life. Except that my brain is telling me that they are important to me by refusing to let them stay in the box. They run riot because they need to be attended to, seen, heard, understood, given a place in my story and then somehow to become as unremarkable as everything else that happens. Maybe that's why I'm writing so much about that time at the moment. I'm sorry if it's boring or repetitive or weird, but as always, I write this for me, not for anyone else. When I can't talk about it (and it's isolating too, not being able to relate to others about a huge amount of what your brain is doing), I can see if writing helps a bit.

*DISCLAIMER* I use loony and bonkers as terms of endearment and humorous way of describing myself and my friends and celebrating our positive differences. We are all most excellent people, very capable and responsible and intelligent and interesting and, you guessed it, normal people (whatever that is!). Sometimes our brains do things that other people find unusual or that cause us problems if we or our culture are not equipped to deal with them. But that doesn't take away anything from our personalities and normal human qualities. Please don't think I am in any way demeaning people with quirky brains (yay to neurodiversity!)!

How to brush your teeth: What on earth is executive functioning?

I promised a post on executive function a while ago. Ironically it has been delayed because it took me so long to collect my thoughts and work out how to put them into words!

Executive function is a funny phrase that doesn't really explain itself very well. I think it sounds like a very vague term for nothing in particular, or that top boss who's technically in charge of everything but doesn't actually do anything in particular. Well, in some ways it is a bit like that! Executive function is your brain's organising and ordering of its own self. 

It's what helps you work out what you need to do, when you need to do it, and how to do it, from something as "simple" as brushing your teeth (do it after your last meal, before you go to bed - perhaps it has a more precise spot in your evening (and morning...) routine which we'll touch on later - pick up toothbrush in one hand, toothpaste in the other, open toothpaste tube, squeeze a pea-sized blob onto toothbrush, close toothpaste tube and put it down, turn tap on, wet toothbrush under tap, you get the idea...) to complex tasks like driving, mathematics or writing a book. The unsung hero without which we would not order any task - ever tried to make tea without boiling the kettle? - or switch between tasks, or work towards any goal. Sequencing, memory, decision making, paying attention, starting/finishing/ordering tasks, flexibility (of thinking, rather than body...), self control, emotional regulation and problem solving are all the jurisdiction of executive function. 

Some brains, for example those described as autistic or having ADHD, have a bit of a different operating system. Life would be boring if all computers ran Windows, after all. These operating systems may prefer to do only one thing at a time rather than running several programmes simultaneously. Perhaps they need each task to finish before the next can begin. They may have a favourite programme that runs more easily than others or likes to take precedence over whatever else is trying to run. 

This can often be fantastic - when only one programme is running it may run at great efficiency and is highly accurate. It gives a satisfying and detailed picture to the viewer. Jobs are done thoroughly and to a high specification and often enjoyed. 

However, in a world that more often runs a different operating system which expects more flexibility and variation and prioritises specific tasks that are valued by society, this can cause difficulties for any of the parties involved. If you're expecting to interact with one operating system it's a shock to be met with another. Many people only know how to work with one operating system and find it difficult to navigate others. 

Autistic operating systems can require a significant amount more preparation to switch tasks. They may evaluate the relative urgency of tasks differently from others or evaluate all as equal (brain explodes here because there is no deciding factor for which to begin first). They may not have filters for incoming data (sensory or social or emotional input), which can derail the task in hand. If a task is derailed they may not have the instructions pre-programmed to resume mid-task and may need to restart from factory settings. They may not have reliable filters identifying which information is relevant, or most relevant, and therefore flounder in decision making tasks as the options, pros and cons are overwhelming. 

What a lot of metaphor. What does this mean in my day to day in my life? 

It means that I rely heavily on routines to compensate for my differences in processing. I mostly have pretty good ways of getting by, until something interrupts my compensation strategies and I realise just how difficult my system finds some things when it's not fore-armed to deal with them. 

A beautiful example: on my first few days at home after living in hospital for months, it took me forever to get myself into bed. I would stand in the bathroom looking blankly around me wondering what I needed to do, or I would pick up the wrong items for the task in hand, or get into bed and realise I still had my contact lenses in. 

In my then familiar environment of my bedroom on the ward, everything was where it should be, each task happened in the same order each night and bedtime was smoothly accomplished in a few minutes. Take away that muscle memory routine and I had no idea how to go to bed! I knew the title of what needed to happen: "go to bed", but had lost the step by step instructions and didn't know how to to it. Imagine having to think through every step of the toothpaste scenario described earlier. And then remember to do the same for changing into pyjamas, using the toilet and removing contact lenses. It's exhausting. A window into what it's like when autistic people have their routines removed or interrupted. Exhaustion brings a reduction in coping resources and executive function, and you can see how the spiral spirals. 

How many plates?!

Only yesterday I had a spectacular moment of abandonment by my executive functioning system. I had cooked the tea and discussed with Mr Peggy and a socially distanced Ma Peggy how I was going to portion it to find out how much raw ingredient I need to make the right sized cooked portion. When it came to the time, I just couldn't figure out how to organise myself to portion up three platefuls of food and find out how many portions were left. Did I need to get out about 8 plates to portion every portion out? Where would I put all those plates? That would make a lot of washing up. But if I put all the spares in one place how will I know how many there are? Perhaps I should measure one portion at a time and then put them back into a communal tub, thus using only one plate? If I portioned them all up straight away the ones to eat now might go cold. And a thousand other confusing thoughts and questions. Luckily I recognised the signs of overload and asked the Peggies what to do! I often end up taking a lot longer to do tasks or doing them in a way that seems overly complicated or inefficient to others, because my brain has found a way to do it that works. I may stick with this method if I do that task again in future, because I have done it before. It takes a lot of time and thought for me to reprogram to a new way of doing something even if it is simpler.

Routines help me through every part of my day, usually subconsciously. Leaving the house, getting up, arriving somewhere. Most of my belongings have a place, so I know where to find them. It takes a lot of brain power to look for things (start with places it might logically be, but then imagine where somebody else might put it in their logic, but that may not seem at all logical so then you are looking literally everywhere!), and the looking interrupts the task, so once the item is found the task may have to begin again. So I like to be able to rely on them being where I expect them to be. These little routines and habits are not exclusive to people with executive function differences (how many people wash themselves in the same order every time they shower or get irritable when their keys are not where they left them?), but people like me tend to have more of them and rely more heavily on them. It distresses me when things are not where they should be and when things do not happen as they should happen or I am expecting them to happen because I have to reset my whole brain. 

I also use longer-term routines to help me make sense of the world and the passage of time, and to help me know what to expect - predictability and familiarity, in case you hadn't yet noted, help the busy brain. I always to the washing on a Saturday. I clean out the guinea pigs on a Sunday. I do the weekly shop on a Friday afternoon. I go to certain classes (eg. yoga) on certain days. I feel more like I understand and can predict the world this way, and then I can relax a little. When these weekly rhythm routines are disturbed I have to spend a lot of energy on constantly notifying to myself what day it is, when the next "normal" thing will happen to try and get me back on track. 

I use lists nearly all the time, especially lists of "to do" and "to get." Otherwise the items zap around in my head demanding attention, until the moment when I needed to remember, by which time they have toddled off for a brief nap only to resurface when it's too late! When preparing for a particularly busy day I make a chronological list of each step I need to accomplish, so I'm not grappling with trying to remember, prioritise and sequence it as I go along (this is basically a version of  a visual timetable; a tool used throughout the special needs school where I work).

I have to reply to messages as soon as I open them or I won't remember! If there is a pending communication, woe betide if it doesn't make it to my to do list (please tell me if I owe you a communication!!).

Little familiarities that can be used across contexts can be helpful. Using my own equipment (eg. pen/notebook/blanket/toiletries/car/cutlery etc etc) and doing things my own way even in a new situation can help. If I have a "soap bag" evening routine for travelling, this night mean I can more easily get to bed in a hotel or friend's house even though the environment is not familiar, because the soap bag, its contents and the routine I follow with them are the same, which reduces the newness and therefore processing involved the task.

Throughout childhood and my teenage years I would have minor shutdowns from getting too hungry and then needing to make a decision. Decision making is still a major trigger for shutdown: my brain just can't process and prioritise all the variables but can't produce an answer unless it has a deciding factor, so it crashes, much like a computer. 

I think I've spoken a lot elsewhere about emotional regulation and some of my problems and helpful tools in this area, so I won't go into that now, but please do ask if you'd like to know about that.

Factors such as tiredness, emotional dysregulation, sensory dysregulation and non-availability of routines (including unprectictable events, changes to plans or unfamiliarity in some aspect of my situation) can affect my executive functioning levels and therefore my ability to a) complete tasks at all, b) do it in a timely or effective fashion, c) prioritise usefully or d) make decisions. 

Everybody has these experiences from time to time, perhaps when overtired or stressed - we all struggle to make "wise" choices when in these states and perhaps spend more or drink more than we would otherwise. We forget what was on the shopping list, or to pick up the shopping list. We lose one of the tasks when multitasking. You need to stop, retrace, recoup, and continue. That is a laspe in your executive function - just imagine every task being like that every day, and finding it much more difficult to get back on track afterwards! 

When your communication needs can't be accommodated

At the risk of becoming ranty, I'm turning to trusty Mr Blogger once more to solve all my life's problems. I mean, to help me process things that happen and deal with my emotions in a non-destructive way, of course!

I have a particular problem at the moment and I can't find a way to solve it. I've tried really hard to make it work and I've resiliently asked for help and expressed the problem multiple times, but to no avail. Hence I fear this is just going to turn into a rant.

I knew there would be difficulty in having all my post-discharge support remotely (in hospital, I had support to access remote appointments and to debrief after them and still had trouble managing), and I knew the adjustment from 24/7 care to 2 remote appointments a week would be challenging. I also knew that the phone and video calls were my only option, so I got on with it. I found things that helped: using my headphones so I can hear better and am not filtering out extra sound to hear the voice on the other end, buying extra data so I can take my support team for walks - it's easier to engage and process when I'm outside, and once I've used the movement to help me regulate at the beginning of the call I usually feel better able to sit somewhere and manage the rest of it. I take time out in my sensory cave when I'm feeling overwhelmed after a call. I am trying so hard to make it work.

All these things help, and mean that on a good day I can get benefit out of an appointment even though I come away exhausted and often realise shortly afterwards that I didn't say what I needed to say, or that I didn't process something properly and missed out some conversation that could have really helped both of us.

But on a bad day I can't communicate properly. I can't say things at all so the person doesn't even think I'm communicating (often they probably think that I'm managing with the remote conversations because I am engaging and talking about some useful stuff). They go away because they think it's a bad time to talk, and I'm left feeling even more alone, hopeless, trapped and useless because my one chance at getting some help has failed. I have to survive until the next opportunity. Which I still can't access properly because I'm still autistic. 

I have a meltdown afterwards. The only way I can get help is by dialing another number. I don't know why I think this will help. Maybe I don't, but it's the instructions I've been given and it's my last shot at trying to help myself. I'm working on resilience. Keep on trying. Unsurprisingly I struggle with that phone call. Eventually they get some information out of me. They say they'll get my nurse who knows me better to ring me back. I can't tell them that I've only spoken to her 4 times anyway and another phone call is going to add to my distress and overload, not solve anything.

She rings back later and it's a disaster for both of us. She shouldn't have been put in that position, but it wasn't anyone's fault. I couldn't give them the information they needed. I'm the problem. Another meltdown. It's a good job I've lost all sense of public decorum or awareness of anything beyond my distress or I'd be very embarrassed by my behaviour.

I get home and stay safe the rest of the day, thankful for the presence of Mr Peggy. All the blankets, time to write an email apologising for my distress on the phone and trying to explain my problem (this email to send via my other nurse, because they're the only one I'm allowed to email). Comedy TV. They all help me keep calm until the night time. The odd half hour of sleep here or there. The anxiety builds before the second of my scheduled phone calls of the week, with the poor Peg from yesterday. I can hardly bring myself to answer it. It's my last attempt at engaging in this remote support - I'm going to have to go it alone after this. I know where that is likely to lead.

The phone call doesn't help. She can't fix anything (not her fault), I can't fix anything. She goes away, not wanting to overwhelm me with telephone conversations, but meaning I'm support-less for another 8 days. "Ring the office or the crisis team if you need any more support." Great plan.

I've tried all avenues, so I guess it's like it's always been: you have to cope alone and you should be able to. I spent seven months being told it's OK to be different and have different needs, and being helped to work things out, but none of that's true in the real world. Your needs are unreasonable. The 8 days may well be longer, because I'm not sure I can face the disappointment and distress of another phone call and its aftermath. 

Sometimes lockdown is really 💩

And the OT, insurance people and car servicing people trying to ring of me may as well go stick their heads in an oven (although actually, often if you explain your difficulties they do accommodate and communicate by email...).

"I find you a calm person to be around"

I thought I'd share with you all something my Brian has been playing with that rather amused me. It was funny because it happened during the week about which I wrote my previous post.

Several different people commented to me about how I am a calm influence and a calm person, and relaxing to be with. This brought an inward chuckle as I happened to have been dealing with an increase in anxiety, disordered thoughts and feeling overwhelmed. I know the comments were based on longer-term relationships than just the last week, but it did make me think because at least one of them was about one day in particular, and a day when I was feeling anxiety and was doubtful of my ability to cope!

Now I must admit that all of these comments came from colleagues, and therefore in a place where I do tend to be performing and making an effort to be at my most functional and presentable. But bear in mind that these are all also people who have seen me at my worst, when anxiety is playing its game well, and they still see me over-all as a person who spreads calm.

I was really pleased to hear that this is one way that people experience me though. One thing we can never do is perceive ourselves as others do. We spend a lot of time thinking or worrying about what others think of us, and our flaws and shortcomings can seem like our main characteristics when we look through our own eyes or imagine what others see, but my discovery this week is that we really can never know.

This makes it especially important to reflect back to people the things that we appreciate about them. It was perspective-changing and warm to know that other people can genuinely get something positive from being with me, and that they're not just saying it because I asked or because they know I benefit from positive feedback: the context was each time not about me but about somebody else's needs that I could provide for. So let people know how they benefit you!

Aside from the warm fuzzies though, I was a bit bemused that calm is a characteristic that apparently exudes from me. I am often troubled by anxiety. It invades my dreams, I have to live by lists to try and keep the zooming thoughts tethered in some way, I really struggle in social situations or when I am out of my comfort zone or put on the spot.

I came to the conclusion that there are a couple of contributing factors to my apparently calm aura, most of which can be linked to my autism (entertainingly, as that is also the source of much of my anxiety!):

Processing time

Until recently, I never considered that I may have any processing issues because my language skills have always been fairly advanced. I am very grateful for this as it allows me to understand and take part in the world, but am finding now that it can mask delays in my understanding, interpretation or processing of situations. I find it very difficult to answer questions on the spot if they require more than a simple factual response (frequently my brain is working on such questions for hours or days afterwards, when I may be able to form an answer that actually reflects my true thoughts or feelings on a matter). Sometimes it is only once a conversation or situation has moved on that I realise what somebody actually meant if they were speaking figuratively. 

The emotions of a situation do not tend to hit me as it happens (sometimes they don't hit at all, sometimes I don't recognise them and sometimes they hit at a random unrelated time and it takes me ages to figure out what they are about). I am learning to stop and think through when something emotive has happened in order to identify my emotions and allow myself to feel them. This probably sounds a bit strange and unnecessary (why bother feeling things, especially painful things, if they don't ask to be felt?) but it seems that even if I don't consciously feel them my emotions are still there in my body and brain, contributing to my general stress levels, but in an even worse way because they are unidentified and not dealt with so they don't disappear. Intentionally getting them out to examine them keeps the old Brian tidy and helps to reduce overload and destructive coping mechanisms.

After all that waffle, what this means in the "exuding calm" situation is that I may not have really processed what has happened/is happening and it is unlikely that I have felt any reactive emotions regarding it. I can therefore respond in a calm and functional manner, dealing with the facts, logistics and problem solving (providing I have the imagination to see the solution, which is another matter entirely...).

Source of anxiety

Although I deal with plenty of anxiety, the sources that tend to trigger this for me are likely different from those that trigger the majority of people. Other people's problems do not stress me out (I care about them, but don't tend to feel anxiety about them). Children spitting in my face or biting or scratching me doesn't stress me out. The things that cause me anxiety are thinking I have done something wrong or displeased somebody, any perceived failing on my part, injustice or people being treated badly, and sometimes changes to routines or expectation. 

Of course other people share these sources of anxiety, but the things that don't cause me anxiety mean that in situations that many find highly emotive such as day-to-day experiences in my work, I can respond with less emotion and anxiety. I don't feel bound by the social "norms" that dictate that yawning is rude because it says you are bored (it is a natural bodily reflex...), farting in public somehow means you are revolting (again, a bodily reflex), or not looking into somebody's eyes means you aren't listening or don't respect them (or maybe you're just trying to concentrate on what they're saying...). If a child spits at me it is similar. I don't experience that personal offence that most people naturally feel (again, instinctively - they can think it through with the same logic as mine but for some reason my brain skips the emotive/anxiety response here) so I am straight on to "How uncomfortable must this child be feeling in order that they must respond like this. How can I make it better?"

It doesn't always work like this, and especially when I am tired or stressed there are things that provoke that reaction in me, but I find it really useful that often the reason I appear calm is because I genuinely am not bothered by what has happened.

Difference in expressive emotion

This one is pretty simple. With autism, people don't always express emotions in the same way as non-autistic people. So I might be anxious or stressed but not look like I am to somebody who doesn't know me well enough to know how that shows itself in me.

Obviously when it gets to shutdown stage it's generally pretty readable that something is not right, but with my anxiety, from what people say, if you don't know me well you may not know there's anything wrong until it's very very wrong (And until recently and still sometimes now, I also may not know! And am even less likely to be able to tell you.).

So I appear calm more often than I actually am calm, which probably helps with people feeling relaxed around me. We all feel more relaxed around someone who appears relaxed, right?!

Intentional masking

And in case not feeling emotive or anxious or not appearing to be even if I am feeling it doesn't account for my calmness entirely, we have to add the fact that I do still intentionally mask sometimes. This was how I was able to take part in the world with a largely convincing performance of "normality" for so many years before discovering I was autistic, so it is a natural thing for me to do at times. I do it to maintain my credibility in a professional context and also in social contexts. If I want to be treated like everybody else I have to act like everybody else and I am glad that I have the skills to have this choice available to me. There are people in whose company I mask much less, if at all, and there are environments in which I am largely putting on a performance in order to participate. Positive or negative, that's how it has always worked for me.