Yesterday, I was going to write about my plans to "reroute" one of my more annoying stims (I tap my teeth. Not a big deal, you say? It is when I wake up in the middle of the night, grinding my teeth so hard I'm afraid that they'll shatter, not to mention the fact that when I'm really tense/nervous, say, before a performance, my jaw gets really sore and tired, therefore making me even more nervous, because it's hard to sing with a sore jaw). But I'm just going to keep trying what I'm trying, and let you know how it goes.
What I want to get into today is a conversation I had with my dad, which resulted in a lot of cognitive dissonance on my part, and probably a lot of confusion on his. He's been recommending to me that this semester, I should take a class outside of my field. His suggestions? Mainly cyber security. He thinks it would be very helpful for me to develop skills in that area: I could get a great, secure, job with the government, and be set for life. He mentioned that a lot of times doing things we love isn't practical, and they should remain as hobbies, while we work on more viable careers. His example? He wanted to be a pilot. He flew quite a few planes, back in the day, but he couldn't make a living on it, so he went on to the career he has now, which is not entirely boring, at least, not all the time.
I do not blame him. He makes complete sense. I've been giving myself the same speech since I was ten. I'm actually really surprised this is the first time he's said anything like that to me. The arts are risky. There are a few people that do well--mostly because of talent, but also, because they have friends in the right places. Everyone else ends up living in their parents' basement, working part-time at McDonalds for scraps. I get it. This is the exact reason why, up to about a year and a half ago, I resisted with all my might against even beginning to consider putting all my eggs in that particular basket. It was stupid, reckless, to think that I could support myself as a singer, a writer, an actor, an artist. I could do that stuff on the side, but there was no point in signing up for classes or taking any kind of steps in that direction. I just had to figure out what I could do instead. What was the smart path? I took a lot of classes and did pretty well at it. I tried imagining myself in a desk job, in the government or some office building, doing what, I have no idea. Being an accountant, or secretary, or whatever kind of office drone, who knows, because I honestly could not imagine it. I shied away from any "boring" classes in school, but I stayed even farther away from anything that was truly interesting. So, I was safe, but not moving forward in either direction. I was stuck.
I know what you must be thinking: why not work on being an artist or performer at the same time as moving forward in a "boring" career path? That way you can get the best of both worlds: job security, and fun. On the outside, that makes sense. But not in my head. I guess it's just another example of what it's like in an autist's brain. We deal in absolutes. It's all, or freakin' nothing. The only way that I can absorb information and develop skills in an area, is if it's the only thing I'm doing. Last semester I made huge strides in music, because all of my classes (except for one) was in music. I was taking voice, piano, an opera workshop, music theory and ear training, and then an introduction to interpreting (for fun). I have been in the music zone. I couldn't write or draw, even when I tried, because my brain was entirely in Music Land. I'm amazed that I got the grade I did in my interpreting class, because I BSed my way through the homework, stopped taking notes about halfway through, and I didn't even make flashcards for the final exam. Heck, I barely studied for it at all. I could not focus on anything but music, because that's where I was.
That's just how it is, for me. This summer, I've been writing. Period. Mostly in this blog, but I've been working on my novel, too, and trying to get work as a freelance writer/editor, so I can get some "real" experience. My dad keeps asking me why I don't practice piano anymore. My Aspie brain is at first baffled that he would ask that, but I realize he doesn't see the world the way I do.
First of all, it's really intimidating, trying to practice the piano in a house full of people, even if I do plug my headphones into it, because you can hear the THUNK THUNK THUNKITY THUNK of the keys anywhere in the house. I can feel them around me, all the people in the house, and it is distracting, having to worry about how much I'm bothering all of them as I try to hash out my thoughts on the keyboard. The practice rooms at school were perfect: you couldn't see or hear anyone, and they usually couldn't see or hear you. I could feel free to try new things, and make mistakes, and fool around, or buckle down and play the same four measures over and over again, because I didn't have to worry about anyone hearing me and getting annoyed.
But the other, probably more precedent reason is because right now, I'm a writer. My brain can only write. It can't even process the idea of making music. That, and, I've been looking for a job all summer, too. And every time I let up, my dad would come and say "how's the job search comin' along?" and I realize that I haven't done any "searching" for the past 72 hours, because I got so sucked into my writing. So I buckle down and stop writing for another couple of days, as I send in applications to another dozen businesses, and my dad comes home and says "I want you to practice piano tomorrow. You really shouldn't let that skill go to waste." and I'm thinking "but you want me to find a job, and my brain wants me to write a novel. Where is there any space for music? This does not compute."
At times, I have envied the people who can multitask. I don't know how they do it, or if it's even efficient, but it seems like a good skill to have. I certainly could have used that back when I worked at the restaurant. But whenever I try to split my focus, either on a micro or a macro level, I get flustered and scattered, not growing or accomplishing in any of the areas. Instead of getting a little done over a lot of areas, I end up getting none of it done. Sometimes I use a "to do" list, to cross stuff off, but it only works for the first day or two, then I lose the list and go back to writing or music, whatever my brain feels like that day. And on the macro level? Man. I want to be able to do all the things I like to do, at a professional level. I do. This is the reason I have such a hard time choosing classes at the beginning of every semester, because I want to do everything. I really do. I have taken a variety of classes before, and I did okay, so maybe I could do it. But I think that I can't, and that's where the problem is. If you tell yourself you can't do something, you'll prove yourself right. I know that. But it's really hard to make plans, when you're brain is screaming IT'S IMPOSSIBLE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME??? the whole time.
Back in "school," before college, I liked to study one subject at a time. It wasn't always that way, mind you, but as I got older, and had more control over my life, that's what I liked to do. I would spend a whole day working on my science class alone, and the next day, it was English, and the next day, it was math (Okay, okay. I would give up after a bit on that one, and go play Neopets), and then I'd take of a day or a week just to read my novel, and I'd start over again. I would get the whole thing done just as fast as a regular kid, but I didn't spend all day getting yanked around from one subject to the next like other kids do. I did it my way, and I liked it. I excelled, more or less. (Learning algebra online is really hard. Don't do it. That was the first time in memory that I ever failed at something. I think I got a C or a D or something. It was horrible.) And that's the way I liked it. When I started college, I started out with one class at a time, because that was easy. And I had perfect grades, until I started taking four or five classes at a time.
So, basically, I thrive in doing one, maybe two things at a time. That's it. Now, I don't know how long I can do that one thing at a time. Six months to a year is pretty much my max so far, which is a problem, since I can't "change careers" every year. Although I would enjoy it, it would make me look less reliable on paper, for starters. And I wouldn't have Job Security. This is another reason why I want to follow all of my "chosen careers" at the same time, because when I get tired of writing, I'll go back to music, and when I get tired of music, I'll go back to drawing, and when I get tired of drawing, I might tutor math for a little bit, and so on and so on. Plus, in (most of) those careers, I am able to jump around. I don't have to go to the office nine to five, pumping out songs and drawings and novels, if I don't want to. I can work out of my home, and when I finish a book, I can start playing piano again, and when I've released an album, I can move on to something else. It could actually work.
Or, I could fail miserably. I could be one of those bums who don't have a "real job" because they're an "artist", so they live out of their parents house while they wait for opportunity to fall into their laps, which never, ever happens.
Which brings me back to why I've resisted this "path" my entire life. I could do well in cyber security, or computer programming, or whatever. I could. I'm good at learning things like that. I have experience with languages, which could help me with HTML, or C++, or Java, plus I thrive on memorizing rules and patterns. I remember having a great time designing my own pages on Neopets, using the "tips and tricks" page on their site. I learned the basics of HTML pretty quick like that. It was fun. I could get back into it. And even if it doesn't sound entirely interesting, let me point out that I once had a fascinating time watching water boil. If I put my mind to it, I can learn anything, and I can make anything interesting. Examples: I was getting bored trying to memorize dates of historical events, so my dad made flash cards, and timed me to see how fast I could move through them. I learned how to make things into a game. I was having a hard time picking up Spanish, so I started listening to Spanish music, and my skills improved. And I opened myself up to a whole new genre of music. I was spacing out in my science class a couple semesters ago, so I started creating superheroes with powers based on the principles we were learning. Aced the class. And, I got a few more characters for my novel.
Some things are harder than others, I'll admit it. But if I want to succeed, I will. I'll figure it out. So even though I don't know anything about cyber security, I know I can learn it, and I know that I can probably do a dang good job at it, too.
In fact, it'll probably be a lot easier than any of my chosen fields. In cyber security, you don't bare your soul for everyone to see and judge and dismiss. Computers don't ask you to bring out the worst parts of yourself, only the best. I'll probably never cry because of a computer. In computers, there is no gray area. You're either doing it right, or you're not. It would make a lot more sense for me to work on computers.
It's so strange, that I, Aspie and all, could want so badly to work in the arts. A lot of Aspies work in machines and computers, and for good reason. Machines don't try to trick you. They don't hurt you or lie to you or pretend to be something they're not. They don't ask you to be something you're not. They just are. They sit and wait to be picked apart and learned and fixed. Why, oh, why didn't I just take apart the microwave like a normal Aspie kid? Why did I have to get my meat hooks in music? Why couldn't I have stuck with computer manuals instead of science fiction? Why did I have to hold back tears every single time I went to the theater, because I wanted to be on that stage more than anything in the world? Why?!
The arts go against everything I've trained myself over the years. My brain tells me it's wrong to ever, ever, show any weakness. Never, ever let them see you sad or mad or scared or frustrated, because that will show weakness. But in music, on stage, on paper, that's exactly what people want to see. That's exactly what I have to show them, walking around with my soul naked to the world. The arts are hard. PEOPLE ARE HARD. I have to be able to hold conversations with them, to show thoughts and emotions (in the right way) and read theirs (in the right way). I have to keep stepping up and doing things that frankly terrify me, because that's the only way to get anywhere in the arts.
Why in the world would I put myself through the pain and suffering that is in store for me? I have no idea.
Maybe I should go for cyber security.
But here's the other thing. I remember a year or two ago, when I was fed up with trying to deal with people. It was, and is, exhausting, confusing and scary to try and socialize, doesn't matter what situation. School, work, church, all of it. It was just too hard. Why bother? I can go read my books in the comfort of my own home. I can listen to music and never, ever go to another party again. I could just say "no, thank you, not today," when someone asks "how are you?" I could do that. It would be a lot easier, a lot more comfortable and secure. I could spend my energy doing something more useful, like curing cancer, or at least writing the next great American novel.
But the thing is, I'm very religious. That's part of my problem, the reason why I didn't just do the smart, safe thing, years ago. I was sitting there, thinking "what's the point with any of this? Why bother?" when I got a mini revelation, of sorts. You see, in my church, we're all about family. We do genealogy, we have "family home evening" every week. We treat other people like family, too. We actually have assignments, so nobody in the congregation is forgotten. I've got a few women that I'm supposed to check up on every month, see how they're doing, see if they need anything. (For example one time, I got a call from one of the women I "visit teach" in the middle of the night. She had to go to the hospital, and she needed someone to watch over her daughter while she went. And, oddly enough, I was happy to.) Likewise, there are men and women that come check up on me, as well, who are willing to help me out in a pinch. We all take care of each other. We take care of people outside of our church, too. I hear we're one of the top donating churches in the US, or something like that. We lend humanitarian aide to people who need it, victims of disasters, impoverished people, and the like.
I tell you this, not to show you how "great" we are, or to say that we're better than other people, not at all. There are plenty of "bad Mormons" who don't care about anyone outside themselves. They don't help their family, their fellow church members, or people in general. Not everyone in our church really knows or cares what our religion actually teaches. Likewise, there are plenty of people outside our church, who are generous and loving, who make sacrifices and help people, with or without anyone standing over their shoulder, telling them what they "should" be doing. I'm telling you this because in that "lightbulb moment", I realized, it's all about people. Everything is. It doesn't matter if I'm a writer or a computer programmer or an animal trainer, it doesn't matter! The point of this life is people. To make friends, to be in a family, to help each other and grow with each other. THAT is what's important. And even back then, before I knew about autism, before I understood why it was so hard for me, I realized, it's still worth it. That I need to make the effort. So I did.
I redoubled my efforts in People. Most of the progress I made, I owe to all of my training in performance and stories, but whatever works, works. I still don't go to parties much, but I start up random conversations with people sometimes, and ask people how they're doing, and I've even gone on a few dates (shudder). I'm trying. Like I said, people are hard. But they are the most important thing, and I guess most things worth doing are really, really hard, anyway.
Now, here's where we finally get to the point, which I tried to explain to my dad, when he suggested that I figure out how to get some job with computers. I doubt he understood half of what I was getting at, because it takes a long time to formulate my thoughts and turn them into words (I've been writing this post in my head since last night), and maybe I should just have him read this. But here's what I'm getting at: if the most important thing that I learn in this life, is People, and it doesn't really matter what else I do, as long as I do well enough to support myself, then I should figure out what has helped me the best in People. Well, what do you suppose is it? Is it cyber security, or computer programming, where most of my work will be alone, working outside the realm of speech, language, and communication? No, probably not. It's in the arts. Ever since I let myself study the arts, I have blossomed (although I kind of hate that term). I show emotions, and not just "happy," either. I have a network of "friends" (I still don't know how to tell the difference between friends and acquaintances, but I will, one day, I will!), colleagues, teachers, fellow church members, you name it. I actually express an opinion on occasion, which is huge for me. I even went and visited another lady from my church, (even though I don't know her very well, and her neighborhood scares me) by myself, without anyone forcing me to do it.
Now, I know what you must be thinking now (I'm psychic like that). Now that I've learned these things, I have those skills, and I should go get a "real" job, while continuing to use those skills.
You haven't been paying attention, have you? I can only do one thing at a time. It's been months since I was in school, months since I've had a voice lesson or been on stage. I'm already sucking back into my hermit's shell. I haven't been to a party, or singles' activity since school let out (I did go to one dance though, but hey, costumes). I haven't spent a single moment with my friends (outside of that dance) since graduation. I haven't even texted or emailed anyone. I've just been at home. Writing. I've enjoyed myself, too. It's been a wonderful vacation. But unlike Neurotypical extroverts, for me (and other Aspies, I assume) socialization is a skill that quickly goes away. It's like my dad is always saying about languages: use it or lose it. There are some languages he used to be fluent in, and now he can't speak them at all. It just happens. Socializing and People are so hard for me, that as soon as I'm not using those skills, my brain forgets about them, and I have to start, practically from scratch. If I'm going to continue to be an Aspie Butterfly, I have to be constantly training myself, never letting up. I have to force myself to go and be with people, every single day. I have to have CONSTANT VIGILANCE. If I go into computers (which is extremely tempting, let me tell you. Consistency, rigid rules, and security, are things that most Aspies thrive in), I would have to figure out how to split my focus. Which I very likely would fail at. I can't constantly be studying people, and constantly be studying computers at the same time. I can't split my brain like that. I can only do one thing at the same time. It has to be one or the other.
There was one last thought, that I was too scared to express last night, because I don't want to sound arrogant or over-confident, or anything like that. But I'm an Aspie. Now that I know that, now that I know that it's okay, even normal, for me to obsess over things, and do whatever it takes to become the best I can possibly be at those things, means that I have one less wall to climb over. I've always tryed to vary my interests, split my focus, multitask, because that's what everybody else was doing, and it's just not normal to love things as fiercely as I do.
You know what? Forget normal. I want to enjoy myself. I want to be happy. I'm smart. I'm allowed to say that, because this is the internet, and I can't see your looks of doubt and dismissal. I can be and am really good at things. I never let myself try the arts before, even though I loved them, because it wasn't smart, and it wasn't safe. Because I had to A, be really, really good at it, and B, I had to be at least moderately good at People. Well you know what? I can do A. I don't know how long it will take, but you'll never meet a Neurotypical person who can match an Aspie like me in focus and determination. You just won't. And, as for B, I'm figuring it out. It's not as hard or as scary as I used to think it was (although it's still pretty hard and scary). I just need to work on it, and never, ever stop.
I don't know if my dad thinks that I can do it. That makes me sad, but it's okay. He's a neurotypical person, thinking logically. Thinking smart. The odds are against me. But I'm one of the lucky few autists who can survive in the "real world", to some extent. Some of us cannot communicate at all with anyone outside. They can, and do, end up as lost and lonely children. But I am not one of them. People like me go on to be writers, inventors, musicians, you name it. Look at John Elder Robison. Look at Albert Einstein, Mozart, Isaac Asimov, Isaac Newton, or Vincent Van Gogh (We obviously can't prove that these people were Aspies, but they fit the bill). They followed their special interests wherever it took them, and they rocked the world. Few, if any of them, made a lot of money, so I can't say for sure that I'll have job security (sorry Dad). But they did what they loved. They made a difference.
And in this small world, blessed with the internet, I can't see how someone with my wide skill set and varied special interests can't make a living doing what she loves. It'll be hard. Nobody said life would be easy. But I'll be doing what feels right, for the first time in my life.
And I'll be happy.
Penny
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