College cats

I find cats everywhere I go. They know I need them. They find me.

My first two years of college, I tried to conform to be like everyone else. I had one friend who I mostly hung out with, and I tried to be like her, because she was "normal." I didn't know at that point just why I was so different, but I knew that I was, and I tried to hide it. I tried to be a "normal" friend. In case you're wondering how that worked out, she broke down and said she hated me at the beginning of my junior year. I had no friends, and I kept to myself, until I met Leigh. When I try to be friends with people and don't act like my true self, it falls apart.

Well, getting to the cats... one day, I was walking down the street with that friend and a few others and I saw cats in a store front. I got really excited. I said that I wanted to stop and pet the cats, and they told me that I was being ridiculous and couldn't just stop and pet people's cats. It was a store, for goodness' sakes; they weren't people's cats, they were up for public petting if they were in a store. Still, I was too determined not to be the weirdo, so I didn't push it. But I never forgot about those cats.

A year or so later, without many human friends to speak of, I went back to that music store with the cats. I went in, and without even introducing myself to the guy at the front desk, I played with the cats. I started to come down every week or so, often bringing a string. As I got to know Leigh, she started to come with me. Sometimes, after a particularly rough day, we would walk down to the cats so that I could feel better. Over time, I got to know Chuck and Kevin, the owners. They, and the cats, began to expect me. I'm grateful that they never make me talk to them. I can just say a quick hi, and then spend my time with the cats. After a few months, Chaos, my favorite of the cats, would come running to the front of the store when I came in. Kevin affectionately calls me Chaos's "girlfriend."

During my sophomore year of college, I was walking around outside with the old friend, when a cat popped out of the bushes. He was super friendly. We took him to campus safety, hoping that they would be able to tell us what to do with him. They said that they were aware of his presence, but that all of the local shelters were full and would just put him down, so they were hoping that his family would find him. It was December and cold, though, so we couldn't just leave for Christmas break and let him stay on campus with no college kids to feed him. I lived underground at the time. My window was below ground level and had a dug out area around it with bars over the top. From outside, we simply removed the bars, put the cat in the dug out area, then opened the window. Out popped the cat onto my roommate's bed! I kept him for three days, and he was thrilled to have food and get brushed and sleep on a heated blanket. When my mom came to pick me up to take me home for break, she brought a cat carrier. My friend put the cat in the carrier and drove home to New York with him. There, she dropped him off at a no-kill shelter near her home and visited him everyday until he got adopted. Happy ending.


The other cat that I managed to find also lived outside on campus. It was starting to drop into the 20's at night, and again, it was almost time to go home for Thanksgiving break. My mom has some old friends that live in a farm, and they have mousing cats that they also provide food for. So, I brought the kitty into my (also underground) room for a day so that I could find him at a moment's notice (I brought him down in a box, right int the doors). I called the friends who were more than willing to take him. They brought a cat carrier, and we got him settled. Last I heard, he was doing great.


If you need a cat, one will find you. They know. Even if you try to hide your love for cats, they won't let you. They'll come tracking you down until you have to display just what a cat lover you are. They don't care if people think you're weird; they'll love you anyway. If you're really lucky, your people will still love you too.

All chopped off

I got my hair all chopped off. Just thought I'd let you know :)

These are a few of my favorite things

Diet Mountain Dew for breakfast,

and Elsie,











and softest-kitty-ever Joey,











and Facebook chat and Skype chat,

and volunteering at the animal shelter,

and Alton Brown,

and a new haircut (even though the actual haircut is kind of painful),

and quarters that spin and stop!,

and my new GPS that says the street names,

and working out while watching The Biggest Loser,

and Lolcats,

and freshly painted (pink) nails,

and candy canes, even though it's after Christmas.

And my post did its job, which was to make me cheer up. Mission accomplished. If you're ever sad, I recommend writing a list of your favorite things. It works every time.

Another dilemma

For the past few months, I've been going to a kind of HFA/AS support group. Once a month there are social outings with family members (movies, the mall, the baseball game, bowling, etc.) and then once a month there's a discussion group at the library. I've gone to three or four social outings with my mom and two discussions.

I'm not sure if I want to keep going or not. It's nice that some of the people understand what I'm dealing with and have similar issues, but I find that I don't have a lot in common with most of the members (who are, vastly, male). More than a few of the people in the group talk excessively. Moreso than anyone I've ever met. You can't get a word in edgewise. Being someone who tends to be quiet, I find it impossible to carry on a conversation with someone like that. It becomes entirely one-sided. It grates on my last nerve. To an extent, I suppose they can't help it anymore than I can help being quiet, but I still find it very difficult to be around and really start to lose my patience.

The other issue I have with the group is its whole mentality. There seem to be two schools of thought within the group. Some are mired in their disability. Most don't work, and many of them have little interest in ever working again. They seem to expect the world to pave their way. I notice a lot of "I can't because of my disability." One person discussed the fact that her parents bought her a house but not her brother. The person said, "I'm disabled. I deal with enough with my disability. The least they could do is buy me a house." I was floored. Even if my mom had the money, she wouldn't buy me a house. She might help me to pay for an apartment until I could get my feet on the ground, but not a 2-story house to live in myself. I find it almost obscene for someone to expect things like that of others. My mom constantly says, "I think you can work in some capacity." I think she's right. Not right now, mind you, but I'm volunteering at least 4 days a week. I will not be a taker in this world.

The other side of the group mentality is what I consider to be the "Aspie subculture." Nothing gets to be like that little word "Aspie." Why would you cutesify a pathological condition? I suppose because it makes it more acceptable, less intimidating to deal with. These people think that there's nothing wrong with "being an Aspie," but that society at large is to blame. Society this, society that. "NTs," or neurotypicals-- non-autistic people-- are looked at as "aliens." In their minds, conforming to the "NT world" is the worst thing you can do. Be an Aspie and be proud. If something in this world is hard for you, blame society! Ugh. No. There is a lot wrong with society, but that's for another time and place than my blog. The reason I struggle to fit in is because I deviate significantly from the societal norm. I deviate because I have a neurological condition on the autism spectrum. I am not, not will I ever be, an Aspie. Shudder.

All of this aside, there are some really nice people are group who I like to be around and laugh with. The badgering questions, the nonstop talking, and the group mentality though, makes me leave the group very frustrated, every time I go. The social outings tend to be a more low-key group of people than the discussion groups, which I almost can't bear. If I do stay in the group, it will probably just be the social outings.

So what's your take on the subject? Stay or go? How do I deal with the frustrations?

Want some tics with your stim?

I've always had a few motor tics, mostly facial ones. They started when I was probably 2. At any given point, I'm pretty sure I had at least one active one. It was never a big deal. I got made fun of briefly in 3rd grade for it, but that was the most that they ever bothered me. My parents were so used to them they hardly even noticed. No one ever gave much thought to them.

Until this summer, that is. When I switched from Paxil (which made me gain a significant amount of weight) to Celexa, I noticed that I developed a new facial tic. The one or two I had got stronger. I told my mom that I thought the Celexa was making my tics worse. She said it was probably coincidental, and that was that. They weren't out of control, just annoying.

Well, until recently, that is. When I was in the hospital, my Celexa got increased from 20mg to 80mg, and whoa. Watch out. I'm constantly ticcing. Constantly. I definitely have at least to motor tics (all facial now) and one vocal tic (clearing my throat), which means that I now have full-blown Tourette's. All because of the medication.

I'm embarrassed to go out. I'm embarrassed to sit and watch TV with my parents. I'm embarrassed to go visit Leigh and her roommates for "Christmas in January" in a few weeks. I really hate these tics.

We tried Option 1, which was to add Tenex to my medications. It made me so ridiculously tired that I couldn't function. I all but quit talking again. That was no good.

Option 2 is to switch from Celexa to another SSRI. The reason why this seemingly simple change isn't Option 1 is because I don't switch SSRIs well at all. I stop the first medication and start the new one. The new one takes about two weeks to kick in at all, and a month or so to take full effect. The last time I switched SSRIs, from Paxil to Celexa, was this past summer, and the anxiety got so bad that I had to be hospitalized until the Celexa kicked in. Still, it looks like this is the option we're going to try next, later in January.

Tics and stimming can look so similar. How do you tell the difference between the two? I'll tell you my rule: stimming feels good, ticcing does not. I want to stop the tics, but the stims I'm happy to do. That's my unofficial, unproven rule of thumb.

Hand flapping? Stim.
Throat clearing? Tic.
Constant tapping? Stim.
Fingerspelling in ASL? Modified stim (trying to control flicking fingers), but a stim nonetheless
My jaw? Tic. The worst one I have. It's nonstop.
Biting down? Tic.

Stims= good. Tics = bad. Let's get rid of these tics, already.

Volunteering

In lieu of working for money, I'm going to spend the next few months working for free. I'm going to volunteer. It gives me a chance to get out of the house and do something useful (I like to feel useful), build up my resume, and build up myself while I continue to try to become more stable. It's hard to learn to be stable when you're stressed out like crazy from trying to work. Volunteering is less pressure.

The first place I went to volunteer is with the cats at the animal shelter. My aunt goes once or twice a week. The jobs include socializing the cats (inside or outside of the cage), changing litter, and feeding them. I'm ideal for this job! The shelter is small and is run almost entirely by volunteers. There are probably 30 cats there are any given point. I'm not anxious when we go to see the cats because 1. it's cats and 2. my aunt is there. It's like double duty therapy for the cats and for myself. There are two little rooms that you can take the cats into and pet, pet, brush, play, and pet some more. Most of the cats like to come out of their cages, but some are too scared. If they're too scared, you pet the cat in the cage and give her some time to warm up. Sometimes, if you throw a towel over the cat, you can make her feel more secure and then you can take her out.

The next place I went, this morning, is a local food pantry in the basement of a church. I almost didn't go because I was so anxious about driving to a new place and having to say who I was and what I wanted to do. I really don't do well around new people. So, I got there an hour late because I was at home debating whether I should go. I didn't know exactly where the building was, and since my mom works super close to it, she drove me down and came in with me. She found the lady in charge (she just called her name in a huge voice into a room a people; something I'd never do). She said that I'm her daughter and I was there for volunteer. I'm so glad she came with me, because I don't know what I would have done on my own. That's something I really need to work on. I need to be able to go places and ask questions for myself. It just makes me so anxious that I avoid it at all costs. In fact, the entire time I was at the food pantry, I'm pretty sure I didn't talk once. I was a little overwhelmed by all the people moving in fairly tight spaces. I think I'll keep pushing myself and go back next Tuesday, though.

Finally, I start volunteering at the library on Monday. They're going to see if there's something I can do in the children's department. I'd like to put books away. I like the rules and the order involved in that. Plus, I could see all the children's books. I think that would be fun. Nice and quiet, too.

So, I've got the cats probably on weekends, the food pantry on Tuesday mornings, new therapy on Tuesday afternoons, the library on Monday and Thursday afternoons, my research study on Wednesday and Friday afternoons. Sounds like a full schedule to me!

Now that I'm home

Autism makes a psychitrist's job quite a tricky one. You're trying to find out someone's feelings, when the person in question can't describe them to you. I think I would get frustrated, if I were the psychiatrist. I think maybe they did get a bit frustrated, not at me, but at the lack of information and being unable to help like they wanted to.

The first question was, am I really depressed? Maybe, because I was feeling rather hopeless. But maybe not, because I could laugh and smile at things just fine. But maybe so, because my concentration was absolutely gone. But maybe not, because I didn't feel sad most of the time. But maybe so, because I had some pretty intense crying spells. See the problem? They can't just ask me, because I don't know. They had to look at my behavior, which could have gone either way. If the problem was straight up depression, they can explore other medication options or even ECT (electroconvulsive therapy). But if I'm not depressed, those other options have no chance of working.

In the end, I think they decided that it probably wasn't depression, and kept me on the same meds with an increase. They increased the Celexa from 20mg to 80mg. Unfortunately, Celexa makes the few tics I have so much worse. And being on 80 rather than 20 doesn't help the tics at all. So, my doctor also put me on Tenex to try to control the tics. Great. Psych med number 4. It hasn't kicked in yet, but I wish it would.

I had thought that I would go to partial once I got home. My doctor talked with the doctor in charge of partial, though, and they decided that since I got a little overwhelmed by all the people and talking when I was there this summer, to the point that I had to leave the room every hour, they didn't want to try that again. Instead, I'm going to see an outpatient therapist who specializes in Asperger's, probably twice a week for a while. Between seeing him twice a week and going to my autism research study twice a week and seeing my regular therapist every two weeks, that should be enough structure to keep me occupied. I hope it is, anyway. I've also been volunteering at the animal shelter with the cats, taking them out of their cages and petting them. I go with my aunt. The cats are thrilled to be out for a while (most of them are, anyway; some are scared) and I'm thrilled to pet for a couple of hours. It's good all around.