We dream of travelling through the universe – but is not the universe within ourselves? (Novalis, from ‘Miscellaneous Observations’, 1798)

 By Marie Faverio

I am an Aussie advocate for Asperger’s Syndrome, and an aspie myself.

I know I am different, but I am happy to be different because I want to be myself, not somebody else.

Somehow we are all different. If we all looked exactly the same we wouldn’t even be able to recognize friends or people we know. If we all had the same interests and goals everybody would pursue the same activities, everybody would want the same job and there would be no balance in society.

However, unfortunately some people seem to condemn differences as if they were a crime or a contagious illness. Quite often it also seems that people are afraid of being nice or showing understanding for those who are different as if being nice or showing understanding were signs of weakness, while in reality it is the exact opposite.

It takes two to be different. When people think I am different, well, of course I could think the same of them as related to me. If I accept you, why can’t you accept me?

Normality is a changeable, man-made concept that mostly depends on the time and culture in which we live, not an absolute truth. The etymology of “normal” includes definitions like “typical, common”, “made according to a carpenter’s square”, “conforming to common standards, usual.”

Of course to accept normality is a way to feel good about oneself (some people think that the majority is always right). One of the mottos of my late friend Albert Frank (see puzzles page) was “Everybody does it is not a reason for doing it”. He was one of the greatest persons I have ever met and the best friend I ever had.

It also takes more courage and creativity to be different than to be normal. It’s a gift.

The world would be a better place if we all learned to see the positive aspects in other people instead of “pointing the finger” at the negative ones.

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My life has been very difficult because of the lack of respect some people had/have for my difference. It has been characterized by almost constant abuse, bullying, backstabbing (because of my inability to understand false friends’ deceptive ways) and abandonment.

Once the Mental Health System decided I was unable to do anything because I was “mentally ill.” They said my creations and my awards were only in my mind and gave me meds that zombified me in hospital (I was in hospital because of self-harm, and they obviously made the situation much worse). They forced me to dress up and stay dressed all day (a torture for aspies), and once they even locked me out of my room to force me to socialize. No wonder I didn’t get better!

Later they were forced to look at the evidence, but never gave me much respect anyway and constantly wanted me to be like everybody else (which of course meant there was something wrong with me as I was). They made statements like “you have been handled a raw deal with your illness” (I like support and understanding, but I hate pity!) and also never had any consideration for my oversensitivity to stimuli (they literally overwhelmed me with sounds and lights). They once also told me I should make an effort to get used to them.

Once I told one of them about child abuse, bullying etc. in a letter, but he did not even read the letter, then (after asking him for the second or third time) he said that he did read it but did not know what to say. This same person belittled me on several other occasions.

Another doctor laughed when I told him about a certain recurring nightmare.

Yet another one tapped on the table with her pen when I said that I wanted to become an activist for Asperger’s and repeated “You want to become an activist?” almost with disgust or scorn.

To give credit where credit is due, while I am talking about doctors, I have to say that a few years ago someone showed my website to Dr. Michael Fitzgerald, the doctor in Ireland who wrote several books on the positive aspects of Asperger’s Syndrome, and he reacted very well and was very encouraging.

Academic institutions were also great. My teachers were good and never forced me to talk in public (although they didn’t even know that I had Asperger’s because I was diagnosed later). I think I owe my academic success (scholarships etc.) to them because if they had forced me to do things I did not want to do I would probably have had a meltdown and would have given up my studies altogether. Most students didn’t like me of course and I was often bullied for being “studious” and “quiet” (as well as for being pale and sick). Nobody wanted to sit at my table in the library for example, so I always sat alone.

It is also very sad that when people do something I consider wrong and I tell them, the answer is always that I am difficult to deal with because of Asperger’s Syndrome. Once I was cyberbullied and they didn’t believe me, which again resulted in hospitalization. They didn’t believe me because they thought that I was just “too difficult”. The truth later came out, but sometimes it would be nice if people believed me regardless of how clumsily I express myself. I don’t know how often I have been told by people “I know what Asperger’s is” when I try to explain certain facts (basically inviting me not to tell them what I wanted to say), when in reality they didn’t seem to know much about it.

Why do I create so much? I create in order to survive and because it is like breathing for me. Without my creativity I wouldn’t be here writing this blog because I would already be dead. Unfortunately I often develop doubts about what I have created after creating it and sometimes have to make an effort not to destroy (or delete) everything, while the process of creating itself is blissful. I don’t know if it is lack of self-confidence or if sometimes I am afraid of my own creations because they say too much about myself. If some former friends “dump” me because they don’t understand why I need to withdraw and just create sometimes, what can I say? Maybe it is partly my fault. I often try to be normal when I make new friends, or at least to appear normal, but of course sooner or later I fail. I am afraid of making new friends because I always end up being disposed of, and I don’t want to be hurt any more. I am also really bad at conversation and entertaining people.

My former foster father also dumped me only to make his wife happy (he said so himself) after talking to me for over 10 years, and he did so when I was cyberbullied and in terrible need of support on top of that. He was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, so confusing for a person with Asperger’s, sometimes defending me ferociously, even making phone calls overseas to help me, then a couple of days later saying that I should be “put down” because of Asperger’s Syndrome and that I was his “last priority.” He was the one who nominated me and got me into Who’s Who of Australian Women. Although he was all the opposite of an aspie, sometimes his character cheered me up, so it was sad to be abandoned… I don’t even know if he is still alive.

A friend of mine recently wrote to some mainstream autism groups, but apparently they were not interested in giving him any advice to improve my situation. Luckily I have later joined a few groups run by autstic people for autistic people, and they are great! “He jests at scars that never felt a wound”, as Shakespeare said in “Romeo and Juliet”. Probably only other autistic people can understand both the greatness and the challenges of autism. I believe in autism and autistic people!

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Marie Faverio shares her musings, her poetry and her art on her website – Welcome to Marie’s World. Marie is an Aussie advocate/activist for autism (in particular for Asperger’s Syndrome), and an aspie herself. She lives with her handsome cockatiel about 90 km south of Sydney (very close to the beach). Apart from creating (her obsession), she loves nature, solitude and helping others