From a study in Pediatrics... hmm, last February, I think, maybe March:

Children with severe cerebral palsy have better emotional well-being, a better self-concept, a happier attitude, less bullying, and more acceptance than children with mild cerebral palsy. In fact, if you didn't count physical well-being and independence as measures of quality of life, the quality of life by the measure they used (which was designed for typical kids) was pretty even across the board for the severely and mildly affected kids; in the subfacets above, it was higher... The only things that reliably made quality of life worse were chronic pain and parental stress.

I am really pretty sick of people assuming that quality of life gets worse if you are disabled, and gets even worse if you're more disabled. You can't make that assumption. Life is just life, and I am really tired of people saying either "But your life would be better if you weren't disabled", or "You can't imagine what it's like to be more disabled."

It's like being stuck in the middle--I'm not disabled enough to really know "what it's like"; but if I were more severely affected I wouldn't be able to talk to tell you I was just fine the way I am.

Duh: I don't know what it's like to be another autistic person. But that's true whether or not we're functioning at the same level. Nobody ever knows what it's like to be anybody else; we can only imagine. Problem is, some people assume they know.

So basically, using that reasoning they can just proclaim that if you can speak, then what you say doesn't matter; if you can't speak, then they'll just assume you're not happy and try to mess around with your brain. Never mind that 'speak' doesn't mean 'communicate'... but no, they don't listen to that either half the time. People ought to learn Autism As a Second Language in high school, really.

It's 4:30 a.m. and I am woken by yelling and stomping from upstairs, the other half of the sturdy old house that I rent. The upstairs neighbors are making the noise. So is their radio or their TV, which one I don't know. I don't have either one down here, unless you count the radio function on the Walkman I use to listen to my books on tape.

This will be an emotional rant. You have been warned.

I am extremely idealistic. Lately I have been very discouraged with the world in general... It seems like everyone I meet is either selfish or doesn't have enough self to be selfish. Why do we have these ideals in our heads, of how we could be; and yet nobody comes close to ever living up to them? I grew up in a Baptist household and my mother would have had kittens if she saw me reading books of Catholic saints; but there is something that's always attracted me to those and other exemplary human beings... Nowadays, though, it seems like nobody's really like that; and I always knew the stories had been embellished over the years. I know I've never met a real, live saint. My own selfish motivations make me even more ashamed.

Dramatis Personae:
 

From left to right: Tiny, ex-stray shy guy; Baby Girl, font of cuteness and mischief, and foster kitty Christy.

Two weeks ago, I took in my first foster kitty. Christy was totally stressed out at the shelter--hissing at other cats on sight and sleeping in her litter box, which had caused her to breathe noisily from the dust and irritation. It didn't help that I had to clean out her ears when she came here; she's still suspicious and I have to convince her that I won't touch her ears every time I pet her! She does love to be petted, though. Once she knows you're "safe"; she pushes her head against your hand and purrs so quietly you have to put a finger on her throat to feel it.

Considering that Aspies are indistinguishable from many independent autistic adults... considering that many of us also fit the criteria for Kanner's... I'd say it's yet another variation on the autism theme.

It's different from autism in that we tend to think more verbally and develop language on time or early. But the social, communication, cognitive, and behavioral differences from the norm are identical to autism, especially when you take language, self-help, and intelligence differences into account. And, of course, consider the fact that people on the spectrum are so very diverse... even at the same level of independence.

What's this with "Asperger's isn't the same as autism"? Why insist "Aspies aren't disabled"? Why distance ourselves from the idea of disability? Why is it so horrible to be considered disabled?

I've signed up for college again; I'm a senior by credit, sophomore by progress towards a degree, trying to get a mechanical engineering degree. I'm also on disability for Asperger Syndrome and depression. Thankfully the depression is under control right now.

The problem is with schoolwork, and my tendency towards perfectionism--an Asperger's trait, I think. It's not quite the typical sort of perfectionism; rather than anxiety-driven, it's more of a matter of not being quite able to decide where the proper balance between speed and accuracy is. For example, if I study a chapter for a quiz, I will probably read the chapter, outline it, summarize it, write down all the terms, and basically memorize every scrap of information in the chapter. This takes me maybe five times as long as it would take a typical student because I have difficulty figuring out which information is important and which isn't. It might be OK if my day were five times as long as everyone else's, but of course that's not true. (I have similar problems with housework, shopping, etc., but they're most pronounced with the highly-detailed task of doing schoolwork.)

And, of course, there are the obsessions to deal with: Strong, all-consuming hobbies that fascinate me and take up a lot of time. All it takes for me to fall behind on schoolwork is to become caught up in learning about some topic or other (recently I've been fascinated with child development and Nethack)... I become an expert on a narrow field, but everything else falls by the wayside! It's not very conducive to proper study habits. I don't know really how to control this, because when I'm involved in one of these, nothing else really seems important. I remember, for example, distractedly shutting off two alarm clocks that I had set to tell me it was time to go to a doctor's appointment. (I missed the appointment.)

I've gotten some minor accommodations from disability services at school; mostly things like being able to take tests in a quiet room by myself, extended time for tests, and being allowed to use lined notebook paper instead of the multicolored typing paper they usually give you for scratch paper. (You would not believe what a help the lines are to somebody with a very organized mind!)

Anyhow, there's the trouble: I want to get through school, but studying takes me so long that I often end up learning the first half of the material minutely, and the second half not at all. That problem gets compounded by the setbacks that happen whenever I'm involved in a special interest.

If I can get hold on both these tendencies, I know they can be turned to my benefit: Noticing details, learning things thoroughly, and hyperfocusing on a single topic could really make me a great engineer. Right now, though, they're controlling me. How do I change that?

After six months (which I've been told is an unusually short time), I've finally been approved for SSI. For you non-Americans, that's social security disability income--a welfare program for the disabled, about the equivalent of working at a part-time, minimum-wage job. It's just enough to allow me to pay for rent, utilities, and food for myself and my cats. If I need medical care or my landlord decides not to rent to me anymore, I'm in big trouble. I should count my blessings, though: Before I was approved, I had been staring homelessness in the face, and not liking the prospect. Actually, now that the crisis is over, I can admit I was literally considering suicide rather than homelessness--not a nice prospect for someone who would much rather live. 

The other day at the county unemployment resource room (they have a lot of job postings you can apply for), I started a conversation with a random stranger. I have a tendency to do this, and then to discuss subjects which have no resemblance to small talk, though lately I have been confining myself to asking if they have cats. I always tell myself I won't do it anymore; but then I always end up doing it anyway. Here's part of the conversation:

Me: "Yeah... my boss fired me. She said I couldn't do the job."
Her: "Why's that?"
Me: "I've got Asperger's. It's like mild autism. I guess nowadays I'd have been a special ed kid."
Her: "That's OK. I like special people just as much as real people."
Me: "I'm real, too."
Her: "Oh, I didn't mean--"
Me: "That's OK. I know what you meant; I'm not offended or anything."

I'd also like to note that I didn't feel nor sound offended (unless she took it that way). It took  me a while to figure out that yes, she hadn't meant to say that I wasn't "real"; but she probably unconsciously felt that way.

Kind of interesting, though. A perfect example of a Freudian slip that has nothing to do with penises!

I wonder if that's common? Do people really think we're not as "real" as other people? And what does "real" mean? Does it mean we're something like animals, or something like robots, or something else altogether?