I live near a liquor store. I considered inquiring there about a job. I thought about the people and situations I might encounter there. I almost called the place but I didn't have the nerve. I imagined an old man with a gruff voice and a strong regional accent answering the phone and I couldn't call.
My personality is small, neat, and spare. My diction is precise, my disposition is robotically polite, and I am shy. I am disinclined to socialize and there is a litany of reasons why. Among them are social anxiety disorder and Asperger's. When I am forced to interact with others, I feel stiff doing so. I proceed with no grace or confidence. I am aware that people can often tell when someone is nervous or uncomfortable. They must notice me then. Though I can't tell whether they do or not.
Sometimes people objectify me. They think the ways that I talk and act are funny. I seem to them like a milquetoast stereotype, a caricature of a straight white square. Other people try to flatten me, so to speak. To dominate or trick me. I am susceptible to manipulation because I can't read people very well. And I shrink from big personalities. A lot of people with big personalities take offense at my shrinking from them. Or so it seems to me. I can see when someone's behavior changes. I am capable of reflecting on what people say to me, comparing that to what they say to others. I am aware that there is something that I am like. But I don't know what. I can't get the nuance of my own impression on others. I don't even know where to start.
People are a danger. A minefield that I walk blind. Another metaphor: I'm like a primitive human with no understanding of meteorology grappling with the mystery of weather. I know for sure that it is especially bad for me to be around domineering or manipulative people. And I know that many (if not most) people don't understand autism. They draw sketches of others and then they say that the sketches contain all the detail possible. That they are hyperrealistic portraits. Autism is in details they can't see. So they struggle to get me - or some do. Others don't bother.
Some people are like trains. They move along their tracks, heavy and fast. They can't stop quickly or change course. If you are in front of them, you can only get out of the way. They can't move for you. These are people that I need to avoid. Being around them is bad for me. And they are plentiful. I have encountered many people like that. Train People. Railriders.
So I didn't apply at the liquor store. I know I don't want to work in customer service anymore. I don't want to have to navigate ritual relationships with coworkers. And I don't want to listen to people complain, dither, hint, or mumble. To play the games of call and response that they don't even know they're playing. Want is a weak word here. What I mean is that this is where I don't belong and I know for sure. I have a pervasive neurodevelopmental disorder that negatively impacts my cognitive abilities in such a way that I cannot conduct certain kinds of relationships without crippling anxiety. Stimming. Seizures. I say this not because I'm being lazy or precious but because I know my limits. I have learned which environments I need to avoid for my mental health. I learned over many difficult years - most of my life in fact. I want to make it perfectly clear that I'm not talking about where I prefer to be or whom I prefer to interact with. I'm talking about knowing where some of the mines in the minefield might be and avoiding those places. Here I am swatting at criticisms I have heard but am not now hearing. I have learned to anticipate being misunderstood. Told that I just need an attitude adjustment. That my explanation of my difficulties is a mask for plain indolence. This hurts and is frustrating.
My employment options are limited and I have no one to help me. Many places are on the list of places I need to avoid because of the people and situations I might be forces to confront. And though I have never set foot in the establishment I am reasonably sure that the liquor store is one on those places. Or it's likely enough to be such a place that I am better off not considering working there.
My personality is small, neat, and spare. My diction is precise, my disposition is robotically polite, and I am shy. I am disinclined to socialize and there is a litany of reasons why. Among them are social anxiety disorder and Asperger's. When I am forced to interact with others, I feel stiff doing so. I proceed with no grace or confidence. I am aware that people can often tell when someone is nervous or uncomfortable. They must notice me then. Though I can't tell whether they do or not.
Sometimes people objectify me. They think the ways that I talk and act are funny. I seem to them like a milquetoast stereotype, a caricature of a straight white square. Other people try to flatten me, so to speak. To dominate or trick me. I am susceptible to manipulation because I can't read people very well. And I shrink from big personalities. A lot of people with big personalities take offense at my shrinking from them. Or so it seems to me. I can see when someone's behavior changes. I am capable of reflecting on what people say to me, comparing that to what they say to others. I am aware that there is something that I am like. But I don't know what. I can't get the nuance of my own impression on others. I don't even know where to start.
People are a danger. A minefield that I walk blind. Another metaphor: I'm like a primitive human with no understanding of meteorology grappling with the mystery of weather. I know for sure that it is especially bad for me to be around domineering or manipulative people. And I know that many (if not most) people don't understand autism. They draw sketches of others and then they say that the sketches contain all the detail possible. That they are hyperrealistic portraits. Autism is in details they can't see. So they struggle to get me - or some do. Others don't bother.
Some people are like trains. They move along their tracks, heavy and fast. They can't stop quickly or change course. If you are in front of them, you can only get out of the way. They can't move for you. These are people that I need to avoid. Being around them is bad for me. And they are plentiful. I have encountered many people like that. Train People. Railriders.
So I didn't apply at the liquor store. I know I don't want to work in customer service anymore. I don't want to have to navigate ritual relationships with coworkers. And I don't want to listen to people complain, dither, hint, or mumble. To play the games of call and response that they don't even know they're playing. Want is a weak word here. What I mean is that this is where I don't belong and I know for sure. I have a pervasive neurodevelopmental disorder that negatively impacts my cognitive abilities in such a way that I cannot conduct certain kinds of relationships without crippling anxiety. Stimming. Seizures. I say this not because I'm being lazy or precious but because I know my limits. I have learned which environments I need to avoid for my mental health. I learned over many difficult years - most of my life in fact. I want to make it perfectly clear that I'm not talking about where I prefer to be or whom I prefer to interact with. I'm talking about knowing where some of the mines in the minefield might be and avoiding those places. Here I am swatting at criticisms I have heard but am not now hearing. I have learned to anticipate being misunderstood. Told that I just need an attitude adjustment. That my explanation of my difficulties is a mask for plain indolence. This hurts and is frustrating.
My employment options are limited and I have no one to help me. Many places are on the list of places I need to avoid because of the people and situations I might be forces to confront. And though I have never set foot in the establishment I am reasonably sure that the liquor store is one on those places. Or it's likely enough to be such a place that I am better off not considering working there.
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