"Highly Illogical"

 

“Highly Illogical”

 

From around age 8 I became aware of my alien roots. The messy, irrational humans around me kept confusing me with their inability to make things simple. Their behaviours were indescribably oblique, and right was often wrong. Wrong was often Fun at first. Then became wrong despite still being in the context of Fun and therefore Right. I was often told not to be so serious and have “Fun”, as I was too old for my age. However, my idea of Fun was often burning something or taking something apart.

Apparently, that’s wrong…

At the risk of causing unnecessary emotional responses in the reader, this was around the time I began to contemplate my mortality. As a member of a family and the wider community and by default humanity. I could feel my isolation from those around me but could not process it other than a sense of loss. I recall leaning out of my bedroom watching the back-garden loom beneath me. I wondered how calm I might feel as I fell, how peaceful it was at night as I slept and if such an eternal sleep might afford a rest from my emotions. My emotions would come thick and heavy, all at once, threatening to overwhelm me. I could only express them in a choking sob which drowned out any ability to speak. Not that I could have spoken, my general response to any emotion was elective mutism and avoidance.

It was around Christmas time and a film was on, it was a film from a science fiction series called “Star Trek”. I was an early fan of science fiction and was well read in fantasy and associated genre.

I will admit that I was not a huge fan of “Star Trek” as “Star Wars” had already captured me in its Space Western grip. (As an aside I would point out that my favourite characters were C3PO and R2D2 the others being far too complicated and incompetent, although I still open automatic doors with “The Force” to this day).

I recall hearing Spock speak for the first time of the messy emotions of Kirk and his own need to control his emotions and remain logical and clear headed. I recall that he wore the same uniform as the other human crew and looked almost human save a crap haircut and pointy ears. I already had the crap hair, so I pulled the tops of my ears tight, raised my eyebrow, and gazed into my reflection in the television screen. There he was, Spock was looking back at me, the first of my kind I had ever met. I knew then that I was a Vulcan, and in this way destined to live amongst humanity and observe them. I heard my mum say behind me “careful you’ll pull them off” and quickly released my ears> As the blood bloomed inside the freshly squeezed ear tips I quietly smiled to myself feeling a sense of rare inner contentment.

It would be 29 years later that my inner Spock was told that it was not Vulcan, it was in fact Autistic Spectrum Condition (ASC). I received my official rubber stamp of ASC in 2017 and the following day I did not think about suicide once. However, I wish to tell you about how up until then it was Spock that had saved my life.

I would like to take you on a journey through my personal and very final frontier. The journey from anxious, confused undiagnosed Autistic child and adult, to the content “Aspie” that writes this blog.

My hope is that my journey might give the reader some insight into the joy and pain that Autistic life may bring. I ask that you relax and enjoy the dry dark humour of my inner Spock. That you receive my conversation around suicidal ideation as a frank description of a mental state rather than a emotive plea for understanding. In return I will share with you some of the funniest, most awkward, darkest and happiest moments over the last 33 years. I hope to share this at least once a week, if not more frequently.

Thanks for reading and we’ll chat soon

 

Kind Regards

 

Matt