I began my adult life with a whole bunch of expectations,
most of which involved assuming my life would be like other people's -
marriage, motherhood, mortgages, the white-picket-fence-with-2.5-kids life in
the 'burbs' thing... I didn't truly know how people got all that. It seemed to
'just happen' for them, and so I presumed it would for me too.
Well, some of it did. I did get married and become a mother,
though younger than I'd thought I would. My marriage however was an abject
failure - I made a lousy choice of mate, who proved not a good provider or all
that stable, and we were never able to buy our own home. And then I started
reading feminist stuff, eventually leaving the marriage and coming out.
Still, all that meant was that I reframed my expectations.
Instead of a man, I assumed I would find a long-term female partner, I'd get my
degree, get off the benefit, and we'd settle down in happy domesticity, a sort
of lesbian version of the white picket fence thing.
It didn't happen. Instead I had a string of short-term
failures interspersed with long periods of celibacy, where I tried to figure
out "what I did wrong", and how to do it differently next time. Then
I'd launch myself out into the mating market again, thinking I'd solved all my
problems, only to find - BANG. Another failure, and I'd reel back into celibacy
again.
Friendships were another area I consistently failed in. They
imploded, or drifted apart, or just never got off the ground properly in the
first place. I couldn't understand it. I thought I was being friendly, helpful,
nice, etc, why did no-one want to know me? Why was it such a struggle to
connect with others?
I was attending university on and off during these years,
but at times I struggled there too. Academically, I was doing okay, getting
mostly As and Bs, but there was a lot of social stuff that I just didn't 'get'.
I was putting a lot of pressure on myself at this time to be 'normal', and
eventually, that pressure resulted in my health collapsing under the strain.
It would take another ten years before I would be diagnosed
with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, but the pattern was clear from the beginning -
any severe stress, and my health took a nosedive. I began to use it as a reason
to not do certain things, but only because I couldn't articulate my deeper,
more long-standing reasons, which no-one would have accepted or understood at
that time anyway. I still kept believing that my life would, at some magic
point, straighten out, that everything would fall into place and come right. It
never did.
I ended up leaving the city and living in the country for
many years, while I tried to heal. During that time I finally managed a long-term
relationship - only it wasn't exactly as happy as I'd dreamt it would be... I
tried so hard to 'fix' it, draining my health, my vitality, the last of my
youth, hope, romanticism and emotional energy in the process. I finally left
only when I felt I had nothing more to give. And only then did I come to
understand, way too late, that I'd been the victim of sustained emotional
abuse.
I took stock - no partner, few if any friends, no job, no
money, no possessions worth a damn, my health a wreck - where did I go next?
Eventually I moved away to be closer to my family and start anew. Life since
then has had a few ups and downs, but I still find myself, in my late fifties,
poorer than I've ever been. I have no permanent job and little chance of one,
my health is still not the best and in some ways is getting worse with ageing
(eg the onset of arthritis), I've never owned my own home and am never likely
to, short of a miracle. My family are supportive and help when and as they can,
but still, life could be better. A lot better.
As for relationships - well. I picked all the wrong people,
it's true, but then I could also say that none of the 'right' ones ever picked
me. Suffice to say it's an area I'm not willing to venture into again, for a
whole host of complicated reasons, of which being 'burnt' too often is only a
part. In terms of connecting to others, the best thing that's happened for me
in the last few years is not relationships but the aspie friendships I've made
- they're one of the highlights of my life now.
But overall, my life has been, in many ways, a train wreck.
Very few of my dreams and expectations have ever been met or realised - I've
never owned my own home, never had a relationship that was worth the effort
involved, never had a career (except for my writing of course, but I've yet to
work out how to make that pay), I didn't even manage to finish my university
degree. I rate raising my daughter as my biggest achievement - and don't get me
wrong, I would still rate it that way no matter what else I'd done - I just
wish I'd been able to achieve a whole bunch of other stuff too.
So what has all this to do with mentors?
It's this - when things have gone right in my
life, it's always with the help, guidance and support of others. A typical instance
is my getting to uni - for a while, I was friends with a woman who'd done
several degrees, and who 'knew the ropes'. I quizzed her endlessly, and she
very patiently showed me how to enrol, told me all about degrees, courses,
prerequisites etc - we later drifted apart but I'll always be grateful to her
for her assistance. It's very likely that I wouldn't have gotten to uni at all
without her help. It was typical of a consistent pattern - if people were
willing to patiently explain things to me, and guide me through new things, my
life went much, much better. Other times, I got through life changes only with
the practical help of family and friends. When I was lacking such support,
that's when my life would go haywire. The inevitable result was a good deal of
anguish and stress.
Maybe some of all this would have happened anyway, aspie or
not, mentors or not, - I would still have come out for instance. But there's no
doubt in my mind my life would have gone a lot better, if only people had
realised just how ignorant and in need of help I really was, and given me a lot
more guidance.
Many other aspies seem to be the same, I've heard many
lament how they can't make or keep friends or relationships or jobs or stay in
education, how their lives are going to ruin, they're homeless or unemployed or
whatever, because they just don't know how best to get by in the world, they
lack the practical knowledge or skills or social skills to rescue themselves -
and no-one is helping them.
WE ALL NEED MENTORS. Everyone of us on the spectrum needs mentoring, sometimes throughout our lives. It doesn't have to be a big, formal thing - though that can help those who don't have families etc to step in and do this role - but it is a very real need, even when the individual is well into adulthood and seemingly independent.
Now, I understand that most people live busy lives and they
can't always spare the time - even if they understand the need - to mentor
someone. But whenever anyone, be it a private individual or a member of an
agency or organisation, can fulfil this role, I would plead with them to
do so, as the lives of the autistics they touch can only be better off for it.
Because with the right practical help and patient support, we can achieve great
things.
Your paintings are very moving. I love them.
ReplyDeleteSo very true. Thankfully these days one can google stuff but it doesnt take away the emotional abandonment.
ReplyDelete