Meltdowns, or when the Aspie takes over the brain

Hello everyone--

This is the story of my last major Aspie Meltdown.  If this sounds familiar to you, whether you are on the Autism Spectrum or not, please comment below, anonymously if you need to.  It's easier when you share. 

Last week I went to go pick up my brother at the Sacramento Airport. First, there was the slight difficulty of finding him, but it is a small airport so I figured it shouldn't be too hard. My first time around, a car was parked at the curb and the security guy was standing at its window, they had a space in front, so I signaled and started to pull into the curb. As I did this, the car pulled forward, and there was almost an accident. Then the security guy had the gall to knock on my window and tell me to be careful. I should have just ignored it but I said excuse me, I did nothing wrong, tell the car that almost hit me to be careful, shouldn't you be concerned ABOUT me for almost getting hit? He raised his voice at me and threatened to write me a ticket. I rolled up my window on him (I didn't see my brother and knew I had to keep driving), and when he knocked on the window I ignored him. When I came past again (I had to circle three more times trying to find my brother which seriously added to my stress) he found me again and told me the same thing again. I said look, this is what happened, you can see I am being slow and careful, leave me alone. By this time I was frustrated because I couldn't find my brother and already pre-meltdown. with the breath catching and the tears forming and the brain not working. I finally said look, I am trying to find my brother, I know his flight arrived, I have Asperger's and I am on the verge, please just stop. 

To his credit he did turn nice at this point and told me I could park at the curb for a few minutes if I had to, then told me where my brother should be, I was in slightly the wrong place. Soon after that I found my brother and he said where have you been, I've been waiting for an hour! I said, well I circled 4 times and I didn't see you. At that point, my brain pretty much exploded. I was crying, shaking, and I had a hard time breathing, and I could not THINK.  My brain literally froze, I couldn't form a single coherent thought. My brother was what's the big deal I'm in the car everything is OK now, and I was said I am an Aspie, I am having an Aspie moment, just deal, and be nice to me as I get past this, PLEASE. My brother is so confident and so disinclined to react emotionally to anything (he HAS strong emotions, he doesn't react emotionally)  that those of us who have moments of weakness and stress baffle him completely. I did finally calm down (and my brother did volunteer to drive which was kind of him but once I was out of the airport I was fine), but it took me several minutes to get back to normal. 

I felt so STUPID because I have traveled internationally (I flew into Hong Kong alone at the age of 23 and met up with people I had met only once and didn't speak the same language, though they were wonderful to me and I love them dearly, where I then went to teach in China for a  year), gone through customs and dealt with situations much more stressful than this with no problems at all.  I worked full time, went to graduate school full time, trained for a marathon, and prepared for major surgery all at the same time in the Spring of 2004 without a single meltdown of any kind. Sometimes, though, the wrong button is pushed and I just can't hold it together. I hate it, I hate being an Aspie, I hate that no matter how confident and smart and capable and as much of a problem solver as I am I am, I have moments where my my brain simply melts, the Aspie kicks in, and all the balls get dropped, I don't know what to do, and I cease to be able to function or do anything but panic.

What it is like--one part of your brain is logical and rational and saying this is no big deal, you can handle this, nothing is really wrong, everything is fine now, get over it. And the rest of my brain is in meltdown mode and I have no control over it at all. It's SO frustrating.

And though I am proud of the person I am, these are the moments I HATE being an Aspie.  I HATE not having the control.  And I struggle because when it is over, the biggest thing I feel is...

Shame.

Why we have regrets, and why we shouldn't

Today, an old friend of mine from my college days tagged a picture of a bunch of people we knew back then on Facebook.  It was taken at the house where we used to live, a year after I left, and about half of the people were familiar to me.  Seeing this picture, remembering my year of living with so many of those people in my crazy senior year at UC Berkeley filled me with a lot of sweet nostalgia...

But also a ton of regret.

Regret of the times I was careless of other people's feelings.  Times I let my emotions get totally out of control.  Times I thought that if I didn't want to go to a mandatory meeting, I didn't have to, and didn't bother to hide my feelings on the matter.  Times I complained bitterly about installing water saving shower heads because it made it much harder for me to wash my very long and thick hair (though for the record, those water saving shower heads do suck!).  Times I figured I could play whatever music I wanted however loudly I wanted and never mind my roommate and my neighbors.  Times I didn't do the dishes because I wasn't in the mood and used the excuse they needed to soak, then complained when others did the same.  Times I put pressure on people to like me and want to hang out with me when you know...for the most part, they didn't.

Times, in other words, when I was being my very worst Aspie self.

It pains me to know how badly I behaved, how callously I treated people, and all without really intending to.  I am sure I wasn't always bad--I like to think I have a basic streak of decency and compassion, and one of the people who I lived with did ask me to be her maid of honor so it couldn't have been all bad--but I remember the times I was my worst self and I regret.  I regret deeply.  And I am ashamed of my actions.

The thing is, I was an Aspie, I have always been an Aspie, and I didn't know it.  Just had no clue in 1997-1998 that I had a brain that was wired differently.  I can see now my horrible social rudeness and ineptitude, but at the time, I just didn't.  I didn't know, had no way of knowing, and without knowledge had no way of doing it differently.

If I had known then I was an Aspie, I could have shared it with people, and they would have helped me. I lived with a group of truly wonderful people and I know beyond doubt that if my Asperger's had been a known fact at that time, they would have understood me more, helped me handle it, and been more patient.  And I, if I had known, would have been able to work even harder to overcome the social shortcomings.

But that didn't happen.  And now, sitting at my desk in 2011 almost 13 years after graduating from Berkeley, I just have to forgive myself.  Let it go.  Accept it as part of the cost of being an Aspie without knowing it, focus on the wonderful friends and boyfriend I have now, and stop mourning over what could have been 13 years ago.

Because it is OK to have regrets, but it isn't OK to let them control your life.  And the God I believe in doesn't teach being ashamed, but teaches us we should ALL press on to that goal He has promised us...one day at a time.