Stigmas

In the wake of the shooting in Connecticut, which I'm sure all of you are aware of, talks have increased about the gun control argument and the mental illness and neurological disorder argument. These talks are in their infancy, and both issues are still taboo to talk about in many circles. I don't own a gun, so I am not qualified to talk on that issue. However, with regards to the latter, I have some experience, both good and bad.

For those who don't know, I am on the autism spectrum, living with Asperger's Syndrome. Honestly, as far as AS goes, I am pretty mild on the spectrum, and could easily pass as "normal." However, the subtleties and nuances, which, ironically, I tend to miss in the non-spectrum world, are there for others to see. However, in many AS cases, they are hidden, and people miss them, because, quite frankly, in some cases, they don't look hard enough. While neurological disorders and mental illness can be a very tough thing to deal with- and trust me, it can be VERY tough, and often is- it's not for lack of trying on the part of many of us. Rather, it's a lack of willing to help somebody who is "weird" or "retarded" or "crazy." In our Internet age, it's as if we are being judged based on everything small that we do. As hard as I try, I can never be "normal." There will always be a stigma. Now, in the wake of the shooting, some will judge me even harder, and some will argue that if I had been disciplined as a kid, I may not be this way.

To those people, I say: Kiss my ass.

It is not in my head. I can show you my diagnosis papers if you want. I may be single, making not as much money as I could, and I was spanked maybe twice in my life, and yet here I am. While it took me until I was twenty-five years old (my current age) to get my own place and find a steady job, I nevertheless found it. I had a lot of help along the way, but I am finally feeling independent for the first time in my life. I am still not 100% independent yet- I still do my laundry at my parents' house from time to time- but I am getting there. And, like I said, I was spanked maybe twice in my life; I remember once biting another kid when I was four, and that was the only spanking I remembered. But I have never been in jail, I am not a sociopath, and I am a peacemaker. I would never intentionally hurt anyone. My parents didn't have to spank me- I was so convinced I was a bad kid anyway that I almost never did anything to get into trouble. And if I did get in trouble, I would punish myself before anybody else had a chance to, often refusing to eat dinner or go out with friends, because in my head, I believed I didn't deserve the good things in life. I gave my own punishments. It's cliche, but it's true- I am my own worst enemy.

It can be very hard for my "community," if you want to call it that. Some of us will never get better. But, this is a good lesson in patience. There are countless resources that can be utilized, and with the rates of autism going up, it's very likely that we will become the norm, rather than the exception, sometime in my lifetime. Granted, I understand how difficult it can be for family- I certainly didn't make it easy for my parents when I was in college, and ironically, I didn't smoke or drink or do any of that. Rather, I made it hard by not doing things I was expected to do. I've matured since then, and I am getting better, but I know they still wonder about me. And they are right to think so, because I have let them down in the past. But I know I have also made them proud- for someone like me, simply being a college graduate is a huge success. Not only did I graduate, but I actually have two B.A.s. Many kids in similar situations to mind don't even make it to college, but they can't make it into the workforce either because they don't have the skills or education to do it. They are trapped in their own head. I imagine it is what Purgatory would be like.

So, basically, what I am saying is that, yes, it is very tough. But I have learned to acclimate to it, and in many ways, I believe that one of my jobs is to advocate for those who cannot speak, verbally or otherwise. What I'm requesting is that it not be mutually exclusive- oftentimes, when I tell people I have AS, they'll say that they had no idea. But I don't hide it that well. Sometimes, I wonder whether they are afraid to hurt my feelings, or make me uncomfortable. But I am more uncomfortable hiding within myself, and retreating just because my critics tell me to. I encourage questions, and quite honestly, for many of us, don't be afraid to ask. We'll tell you if and when we are uncomfortable.

I wish sometimes they could adjust to our world, because we've done our best to adjust to theirs. And maybe this is why these tragedies happen.

Then again, I don't know. Maybe there shouldn't be an answer in this situation.

But, short of accepting, or even tolerating, I am asking you to at least understand where we come from- the successes, the failures, and everything in between. You'd be surprised how something so commonplace in the "normal" world can be a monumental success or failure for us.

I'm just asking not to be disregarded and misunderstood anymore. Is that too much to ask?

an attempt at political pacifism

So, for those that know me very well, you know that I have many reservations about politics. I describe myself as generally apathetic, but this is probably incorrect. Rather, it might be better to use the term hesitant. I ask that if you read this, please read the whole thing and please read it carefully. I choose my words very carefully, and I have tried to do so as much as possible here. 

As somebody who is also on the autism spectrum, there is a general consensus that the majority of people on the spectrum play by a different set or rules and/or standards. In my case, these "abnormal" standards apply to the political spectrum. I know what each politician stands for or against, but I don't necessarily know what I stand for. So, I ask this question honestly: how am I supposed to vote for somebody if I don't know whether or not I believe in their policies? In this case, it's less of a case of being uninformed and more of a case of being indecisive. I am generally on the middle on just about everything. And what is so bad about being that way? There are worse things to be. 

I have told people this before, and I will tell them again (and this is the section to read the most carefully): it's not that I don't want to be heard, just not in this context. Maybe it's a good thing that I don't want my voice heard, because I genuinely believe that I am not qualified to make any legitimate opinions about politics. I can barely figure out what I want for breakfast most of the time. 

In politics, it takes a certain amount of firepower and anger to really have your voice heard. I don't have that firepower, or if I do, I don't know how to harness it. As a result, I tend to become more passive-aggressive when I am angry. When I am on stage, I am loud and proud, and strong, as if I can do no wrong. This is because the boundaries are reduced for me as an actor. When I leave the stage, the walls of the outside world go up, and so do mine. I feel very alone in the world, even amongst my family and friends. Again, this relates back to being on the spectrum. There is a lot of minutiae and subtlety that affects the brain of those on the spectrum. And quite frankly, unless you either have it yourself or have a very close relationship with someone who does, it is very difficult to understand why I and many others feel this way. There is a general sense of pessimism that goes with being on the spectrum. In my case, I had two strikes against me by the time I was ten- within six months of my diagnosis, my parents began divorce proceedings. Can you blame me, then, for feeling responsible for it? As a result of both events, and particularly the timing of these events, I became very guarded and cynical about the world around me. So, I have a tendency to feel resigned about the current state of the world. In the political context, I am not strong enough to have my voice heard.  

I am pro-choice in terms of free will- that is, I have the right to choose who I vote for. Just because I have a right doesn't mean I have to exercise that right. I have the right to carry an AK-47, but I don't, because I don't want to. I also have the right to spew vitriolic hate speech against minority groups, but I don't, because I don't want to. Just because I can vote for President doesn't mean that I have to. I have several people that are close to me, but are unable to vote because they are not U.S. citizens. And I ask this question: if it does mean this much to you, why don't you take the citizenship test? Not only would they pass the test easily, they deserve to have their voices heard more than I do. 

Anyway, this is my attempt to try to support my arguments. I understand and appreciate your willingness to fight. But I also ask you to forgive me for not being willing to. I am not trying to change your mind, nor am I expecting you to agree with me. But I am asking you to let me be, to know that you won't change my mind. Live and let live, as the old saying goes. One of the things I do believe in is that if you respect my opinion, which people have said to me, you won't try to change it. Otherwise, what's the point of having an opinion if you can't believe in it firmly? I am also asking you to consider the isolation and loneliness that comes from being on the spectrum, and it is more from this isolationism perspective than anything else from which I speak. 

Maybe I successfully defended my arguments, even if you don't agree with them. But if I didn't, I wouldn't be surprised. After all, they don't listen to the autistic guy in the hoodie from Indiana, so why start now? 

the decadents of yesteryear (don't ask me, I think it sounds cool)

Here is a new poem I've been working on. It's probably not very good, but I gave it my best shot.

Vulnerable (alt. title The Decadents of Yesteryear)

Here I go opening my heart for you

Pushing the cement away

I look for you to catch me

Because, let’s face it, it’s not a question of if I’ll fall

It’s a question of when.

What is supposed to be the strongest muscle is in reality

Only a tethering tool of anguish and false promise

It buzzes like a mosquito on a regular basis

But at the end of the day, I end up with only me

Your Kemo Sabe and nothing more

Your loveable big brother archetype.

I put my heart on the line

But perseverance is rarely rewarded.

The lotus leaf in my chest has lost its petals

I give my trust in copious quantities

Because hard-heartedness isn’t in my blood

Coming from a world of isolation and secrecy,

I push back my boundaries

Wanting to let you in.

Why won’t you come in?

Perhaps I am nothing more than a defective caterpillar

Never to blossom into the butterfly.

Oh, well, got to suck it up, right?

But that doesn’t mean that I have to like it.

Back I go into my tortoise shell

Maybe that’s all I’d be good for in the end

This is a withdrawal that goes hidden

A withdrawal from contentment

I will never rest in peace

Somehow, there will always be battles between the head and the heart.

The question is, whom do I want to win?

Hopefully the answer will be the latter

Although the former is going to win some battles

This war will not be resolved anytime soon.

All I’m good for is a median resolution

A stalemate and a stand-still, nothing else.

It’s time for me to go now

I take my place amongst the decadents of yesteryear.

You should enjoy what you have

Even if you don’t want my heart

I’m leaving a part of it with you.

It’s yours to do whatever you wish

But if it’s going to be given back to me

All broken and beaten

I ask one favor of you.

Just be gentle.

A quarter-century of life

Today is June 1. Two weeks from tomorrow, I will be one-quarter of a century old (that is, 25 years old). In this first quarter of a century of my life, I have been able to experience many wonderful things in this life. I have been to Europe at least four times, including Paris and London. I have gotten to see my favorite teams win the World Series, the Super Bowl, the Stanley Cup, and the NCAA Men's Soccer national championship. I have been in almost twenty plays in a dozen years as an actor, and have received accolades for it. I was a member of choir and National Honor Society in high school, and attained two B.A.s in college.

Even some of the bad times made me realize how great the good times were- I've had my relationship problems with women and my family; I've been rejected numerous times at auditions, and I also had problems in the job search. But now, I'm on the threshold, and many things are going right for me.

Hopefully, I can keep up my good fortune.

Life's stage

As Jaques said in As You Like It, "All the worlds a stage, and its men and women merely players." Even now, many people ask me why I still stick with theatre after all these years. Many ask me why I haven't knuckled down and gotten a real job, or pursued more "realistic" dreams. It's a hard concept to explain.

I got started at around age twelve, but it took a few years before I took it seriously. My first middle school audition gave me the lead role, and I had my part memorized in three weeks- lines, cues, and all. People told me I was a natural. I did admittedly buy the hype and got a little cocky. However, I had some great teacher in high school and college that brought me down to Earth, and helped me realize that I may not be the best, and honestly, I may not need to. I needed to simply be my best. They also helped refine the acting skills I did have, and taught me directing, stagecraft, and writing skills. For outsiders who don't know all the effort that goes into a theatrical production, I challenge them to shadow a production during tech week. The late nights, the lack of sleep, the passions and questions about whether this is right have reaffirmed for me the idea that this is right for me. 

This is where I belong. 

I feel strong on stage, in a world where I don't feel strong in most other places. The stage allows me to set my own rules, and let's be honest, it's fun to play pretend for a living. Because in the end, that's all we do. We're just people who play pretend for a living. And what's more fun than that? 

From an outsider's perspective, actors may not be the highest rung of the food chain. However, the dedication that we in this industry put is second to none. We are forced to put our hearts on the line every day, and not everybody is willing and able to do that. 

It takes a lot of blood, toil, sweat, and yes, a few tears (of sadness and joy, sometimes both simultaneously), but actors survive. We are a nomadic breed, but we survive. 

If art wasn't important, they would have found a way to kill it already. But here we keep chugging along. Art is the ultimate survivor. Not saying it would survive a nuclear Holocaust or anything, but artists, particularly performance artists, are among the strongest people I know. 

And so, as another show lurks on the horizon (running June 7-10), I go forward into the show, balancing two "real" jobs with learning a 24-line monologue; working concessions versus playing on stage. It's a fine line, a tightrope if you will, but it's a world I couldn't see myself without. 

So this one is for the creators, the artists, the survivors. 

A question of confidence

Those who know me very well know that I have problems with my self-confidence. What is often hidden behind the curtain is that I have problems with my consistency- it's not that I can't do a task, but I have trouble doing it consistently. Occasionally, I have flashes of brilliance, but I almost always regress. It's a bad cycle: I have trouble with my self-confidence because, a lot of the time, I don't inspire confidence in others. How can you believe in others if others have trouble believing in you? I get sad and frustrated when I don't reward their faith in me. I'm not even saying that I don't deserve it. Oftentimes, I do. Sometimes, I feel like a child in a man's body. And I don't answer back, because it's usually a losing proposition anyway. If only I were braver.

Anyway, I won't go on about this, but forgive me if I haven't always acted like an adult. I'm sorry.

Sleep well.

Call me company

I am hereby announcing that I am throwing in the proverbial towel of love. I have officially given up on ever getting married or having kids. Fish have to swim, birds have to fly, and I have to go dateless. Not for lack of trying, mind you. There are girls that I like, but I've probably blown any chances I have. If you get that desperate that you renounce your quest on social networking sites, you've sunk pretty low.

I'm a little surprised that I didn't do this earlier. I mean, in the time it's been since I had a date, I saw a black man become President, saw the Dude win an Oscar, became an uncle twice over, saw my brother get his own girlfriend, and graduated from college. I mean, this is how pitiful I am. Five years and not one single, solitary date.

Many of the people I knew in high school have gotten married. Some have even become parents. Not that I was looking to become a father myself, but the companionship would have been nice. In a way, I kind of get it. It goes in a vicious cycle- girls can't love me because I can't love myself because I don't inspire others, and so on and so forth. I guess I'm just not "boyfriend material."

Ironically, since I have Papa Roach on my playlist right now, maybe I shouldn't be giving up so easily. But how many failed attempts does it take before you can finally wash your hands clean? Sometimes, we just need to know when to quit.

Maybe I'll flip-flop on this issue. However, given my general stubbornness on many things, I don't see this happening anytime soon.

Maybe I should hang a sign on my neck that says, "Call me company" and listen to Fall Out Boy. For those who don't get the reference, they have a song that features the lyric, "This is the way they'd love if they knew how misery loves me." And since misery loves company, strap a sign on me and call me company.

That's all for this post. Maybe it'll get better, but I've always been a glass half-empty person, so I don't see it happening anytime soon.