Musings of a librarian

The balancing act

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 19 Jan 2018 19:13:00 +0000

The past few weeks have been rough for me. Things happened. I was told that I made people uncomfortable in the things that I say or how I react or how I carry on a joke or conversation. And some relationships ended. And all I could think is...what did I do wrong? What could I have done differently? More importantly...should I change? Can I even change at all? Holy shit, can I change?? And some people are going to read this post and thinking I'm asking for sympathy or that I'm trying to justify my actions or that I'm trying to run away from the problem. But I'm not. I'm writing this post to get out what's in my head and out into the world.

When I found out that I was on the Asperger's spectrum it made so many things make sense. Why I do things the way that I do. Why I react the way I do. Why I act the way that I do. And some people probably think that I use it as an excuse for the mistakes I make or the social faux pas I commit. That's...that's not the case. Or at least the way it is in my head. Because what's in my head is that...I process information completely differently than most people and I can make connections that other people don't see or don't understand. And I can't always explain it because I don't have the "education" or "experience" other people do, but I know, I KNOW, that I'm right. And I know it because the connections are there, the pieces of the puzzle just haven't been turned the right way yet for other people, but they will. And I know that I'm smarter than most of the people I'll meet in my life. And it sounds like I'm trying to be an asshole here or bragging, but...but I'm not. When you hear descriptors for people on the spectrum they are generally associated with high intelligence for a reason, our brains function differently. My brain is like that opening sequence in the Matrix all the 0's and 1's going by at speeds faster than light and I can probably comprehend about 75% of, but the rest of the world is moving at 45% and for me to be able to function, I have to figure out which of the 30% to ignore and push out of focus and its hard. It's easy to get distracted by the bit of information that sees a bird flying in the area and suddenly I see a connection between flying and how beetles swim and I wonder what the correlation is there and just as suddenly it can be gone and I've missed half of a conversation. And that's, that's, where the problems are.

I...don't understand how human interactions work. I just...I don't. I don't fit in, I don't know how to fit in. All throughout my life I've had people tell me that I push people away or that I'm like a robot. I try to open up and then I only discuss things that I like or that I know enough about to teach a class on and then I'm overwhelming people with a tidal flow of information where they can't speak. I'm told that I don't smile enough, so I try to tell funny stories because its the only way I know how to smile since I don't understand half the jokes I hear. And then sometimes I cross some boundary that I didn't realize existed because I repeat a story that was funny to me but it's called bad taste humor. I'm sarcastic to a fault because its the only thing that makes sense to me sometimes, but I carry it too far because all I'm trying to do is connect and I don't know how other than to be sarcastic. And all I want to do is connect and be like everyone else. To fit in, to hold a normal fucking conversation and be a part of a group. To have friendships and relationships and everything else that everyone else has and I don't fucking know how. I...I can't. My brain just can't work that way.

People have told me that all I do is take and take from them. Or that I'm not paying attention to them or that I ignore them until I need something and it's all true! Just...just not the way that they think it is. Or the reasons that they think. Remember when I said it was like the matrix earlier, 30% more information than what everyone else does? Day in, day out its like that. When I sleep it's like that. When I dream its like that. When I wake up it's like that. The constant flow of information in and out. I have to constantly slow my brain down to function. Someone else on the spectrum described it recently as tunnel vision and its true. I get stuck in the tunnel focusing on what I need and see until friends enter the mind again and then I reach out. And that's where the taking comes in. I take information that they give me, things they say, things they do, it goes into my brain and becomes part of something. I missing things. Partners. Weddings. Births. Deaths. I don't see them. I miss them. And I can catch up, I can apologize, but there's only so many times you can do that before eventually people cut you out of their life and say that they're done with you.

One of the things about being on the spectrum is that it's a cursed blade that cuts both ways. I get the social flaws of being autistic, but the ability to recognize it and not do a damn thing about it. I know when I make mistakes. I know when I screw up. After a while I can piece together what I did and shouldn't do again, but...it doesn't work that way. I can't make up a rule in my head to say "don't do x again" because inevitably I'm told that it is ok, so that rule has to become "don't do x again unless y condition is met." But then it becomes modified again. And again. And again. And soon enough the rule is "do x, but only if y and z equal q, but if y and z equal u do x1, but if a is present then do variation x1-2-4, but if c and a are present do...." and it goes on and on and on. And my brain can't process that...and I give up. I stop trying.

All of this to say, there's a reason why a lot people on the spectrum are described as anti-social or "weird" or "strange" or whatever else is used to describe us. To describe me. It's because at some point we all tried to fit in, we all tried to be normal and could never do it. We can fake some things to a certain point, we can use some techniques, but by and large...it gets old to get left out. To not fit in. To not understand what's going on. The one thing in the world that we can't figure out is how to connect with other people because our brains don't process that information like everyone else does.

And so I ride a line. If I cross one way I go out into the world and try to be a part of it. Never quite understanding what I did wrong and never able to fix it or change it. I make friends. I lose friends. Heart smashed. Heart repaired. Repeat. I can cross the other way and stay within, but always longing to have relationships and friendships that I'll never know. Which way does the needle fall? Why way do I go?

What now?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 10 Aug 2017 17:09:00 +0000

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What now? No...seriously. What now? Because I don't know anymore.

In my last post I said I was going to move to Portland, OR. I was going to have a fresh start, go to a place that I've wanted to go to for a while, and just be me. But after talking with some friends that live out there they convinced me to hold off on that as it was not only going to be a major, major move, but that since I didn't have a job I should wait til I have one, especially since there are some issues with job hunting and affordable living out that way.

Since that last post the following has occurred:

I didn't pass my MFA thesis, so...no MFA
My appeal of the committee's decision was upheld
Everyone I had hung out with has moved on to bigger and better things
I'm constantly reminded of what I've lost and of bad memories
Depression and anxiety have spiraled madly
Not having a job that really challenges me is starting to get to me
Not having groups around here and decent mental health care are dragging me down
Not having a place to live at the end of August is about to shoot me in the foot.

So I don't have any place to go to. My parents don't talk to me. I don't have any family left to turn too that I'm aware of. I'm dead broke and I'm just....I'm just completely lost.

So what am I going to do?

I've tried to sell what I have left, but I've gotten nowhere. I sold a lot of what I had before I moved up here and what I have left is basically the essentials. I still have my car for now, but I'm not sure I want to give it up just yet.

I can't stay in Vermont for all of the reasons listed above. Moving to Portland, OR seems out of reach at the moment. So what then?

After talking with friends I've decided to stay in the New England area for now and move to a bigger city. I can potentially move with my PT job to one of their other locations and I've settled mostly on moving to the Boston area, although I'm keeping other spots like Maine in reserve. The problem is still affordability though. Boston is bloody expensive, especially with my cats.

So I turn to you. My friends. The internet. To ask for help.

Here's what i figure:

So basically I'm looking at just over $3500ish to move and get a fresh start somewhere other than VT.
Any and all help would be greatly appreciated.

The Next Stage of the Journey

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 20 Jun 2017 17:36:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/55856449@N04/35136777245/

I've always liked roads. They represent the unknown space, the travel, the possibility, the what comes next. And I know a lot of people use the road with a tree, or a sun on the horizon, something that signifies a particular point that you're travelling too, but I prefer the road that you can't see what's ahead. Where maybe the path turns off and takes you on a detour past people you never thought you'd meet or interact with. Or maybe it just keeps going straight, but you won't' know til you get there. And that's the path that I'm travelling. It's time for my next journey.

Three years ago I moved to Vermont to attend the Center for Cartoon Studies (CCS) and I'm done. I turned in my thesis and I'm just waiting to hear if I passed. During that time period I've made friends, lost friends, came close to ending my life, came out as trans and queer and I've started transitioning and I'm feeling better about myself than when I came. I've learned to improve my craft and I'm ready to throw stuff at the world and see what sticks. I no longer have a FT job here in VT (long story) and my lease is up at the end of July (amicable parting) and so now is a good time to try something new, a journey to the west coast. More specifically to Portland, Oregon. I'm not really sure why, but that's what my gut has been telling me for 4 years now. It was my backup plan if I didn't get into CCS and now it's become my plan.

What do I have planned out? Well....other than moving by the end of July that's where I need some help actually.

I need a place to live for me and my two cats (the cats are non-negotiable as they are my care takers) I'm open to whatever, even if it's just a loft space or a borrowed room, etc.
A job. I'm open to library world work, art world work, anything that let's me use my skill set and try new things. I work hard, learn fast, and kick butt in the process (where needed of course.)
Money. This is the major one. I worked out what it would cost to move and it isn't cheap. It will be about $2,000 just to move stuff. Another $2,000 for first and last month's rent on a place (unless some kinda deal can be worked out.) And another $2,000 for various other expenses.

I had money saved up (not a lot but some) but it went out the window when I left my FT job a couple months back and I've also been paying off some debt accumulated over the last three years.
I plan on leaving a lot of stuff behind when I move, but even though I'm cutting down my book collection I'll still have a fair number of graphic novels and autographed books coming with me. Other furniture though I'll probably be leaving behind and picking up cheap stuff at the other end when I have money.

So all together about $6,000 is what I'm trying to scrounge together as quickly as possible. So if you have thoughts, ideas, can help, etc. let me know in the comments, twitter, etc.

The fight we must

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 03 Dec 2016 20:21:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/71918853@N06/30745293660/

*warning I do not hold back on language in this post*

This is something that's been bugging me & I just saw an article that kinda summed things up. And it's about voting for &/or defending t-ump.

I did say a couple days after t-ump was elected "hey maybe he was saying that shit just to get elected. He's already started taking back some of the shit he was saying." But I was wrong. He's still doing the same shit and even worse shit than what he was saying. And I'm pissed at myself for blocking out all of the shit that he did up til that point and thinking "maybe he won't be as bad as we think he is. maybe we can work together"

And I think this is a big fucking problem. Maybe we weren't the ones that elected this bigot. Maybe we were. But I fear that we're going to forget all thing anger come January. And we can't. We can't let what he is become normal. Y'all he mocked a gold star family. He mocked a disabled reporter. He insulted John McCain and said he wasn't a hero for being a POW. He insulted women so many f'ing times that we lost count. He said it was normal for rich men to say they could grab women by the pussy and do what he wanted with them. He said that all Mexicans were rapists and murderers. I won't even get started on what he said about Muslims and immigrants to this country, because I fucking lost track!

And I started to normalize this ish as a trans woman. WTH is wrong with me for even beginning to think that this asshole might be better than we think? That's where a lot of my anger & desire to fight comes from lately. That I started to normalize this. And so many others I think have too.

And I get some of it. We don't really wanna fight. We're tired. We're seeing friend against friend. Family against family. And this is something that America hasn't seen in a long fucking time. And I think we don't really know how to deal with it and our method has been to go "ehhhh whatever. It'll be ok. I'd rather have peace." But we can't. Not now. Not this way.

This is the line that is drawn. There is no longer a middle ground people. You either stand and fight against t-ump and his hate-supporters. Or you allow yourself to become a part of them. Maybe you aren't saying the things they are, but you aren't condemning them either. You aren't stopping them. You've passively allowed yourself to become one of them because you said nothing.

This sounds harsh and I'm sure I'm going to lose people I care about over it. But this is reality. I'm not saying you have to go out and picket and protest to show that you don't support him. But give to those that do. Don't let his supporters yell and harass another person. Don't let them corner someone alone. I know. It's scary. But so are the times we face.

The line is drawn. Where do you stand?

The way is dark take this spark

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 13 Nov 2016 17:30:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/46595730@N02/4278452695/

Friends I don't need to tell you how dark this past week has been. You've seen it. You've experienced it. You've felt it. Instead I'd like to tell you a couple of stories. About me. It may seem like it rambles but...bear with me.

Growing up I used to day dream a lot. I'd let my mind wander any chance I got and I would dream. I'd dream big. I'd dream small. But I'd just keep dreaming. I'd dream about waking up and finding myself turned into a girl over night, which...obviously never came true. I'd dream about playing baseball or doing other things. But there were two reoccurring ones that I had.

When I was younger I used to watch the Care Bears. If you aren't familiar with them they were bears (and later other animals) that would go out into the world to fight darkness. They had a symbol on their stomachs that would give them items they needed, but would also let them combine their powers into the Care Bear stare which would defeat the villain through love. At least that's what I saw it as. I was a strange little kid growing up. Never really had many friends. And I'd see or hear things in the news and I'd worry about it. I'd worry about the people that were hurting. The hate in the world. And I decided that I could be a Care Bear also. And I would sit on the swings and I'd send my heart out into the world. I'd send it to people that I didn't know, to countries I'd never been, to whomever to spread love where it could. I lost count the number of times I did that. I lost count the number of times I wished I could end the hate. To make people happier.

The second day dream I'd have is when I got into my teen years. I'd gotten into reading and was reading whatever I could get my hands on. And I had read the Hardy Boys and the Lord of the Rings and I wanted to be a hero like them. But I couldn't imagine myself that way. But then I read a series called "The Dark is Rising" by Susan Cooper. It was a series where King Arthur had been real, where Merlin had stood by him, where the dark and light were forces in the world battling each other! And the main characters were young children, one of whom was the last of the old ones born. He was the last watcher. And that idea stuck into my head. I decided I was the last of the old ones reborn into the world. The last knight. But last had a different meaning to me.

I had grown up as the oldest child and always felt that it was my role to watch out for my siblings and later this extended to friends or people that I cared about. I had read somewhere that mama animals walk behind their children to protect them from things that might sneak up on them, but also to have better view of what was coming. So I started trying to be last in the line. To protect them. To stop what came around. I was the last line of defense. And that's what I became. Not that I was much of a deterrent being kinda scrawny ass kid, but I stood there none the less. And in my day dreams I would fight in the last big battle but I'd stay behind. I'd guard the door. I'd keep the way shut. So that others may escape. That they may live yet a while longer in peace.

This is me. The spark that I keep handing out to people? My heart. My love. My hope. My joy. Take it. Carry it with you into the dark places ahead and pass it on. Make it grow stronger. Make it grow brighter. Make it into a fire that will cover the world. And I'll stand at the back. Sword drawn cutting down the demons in the dark. But I am not alone.
Please take this *spark* to help light the way. If it goes out I've got more. I'm here. You're here. We'll keep going. We'll cry & we'll keep fighting. If you need something let me know.

No more silence

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 23 Jul 2016 22:30:00 +0000

I hate discussing politics. Really. If you're a good friend and I know where you stand on things, I don't mind discussions about things. But in general? I don't like the arguments I know that it will cause. I don't like the hate that gets hurled back and forth on some things. I don't like the pain & the hurt it causes. So I stay silent. But the cost for that has become greater than I can bear sometimes.

In recent years I outed myself as battling depression/anxiety and being on the Autism Spectrum because these things matter to me. But I've stayed silent about a lot else, because I told myself that I couldn't bear the cost. Cost of losing friends, cost of losing opportunities...the cost of just standing. But those were all things that I put aside when I outed myself for other things. Because they mattered.

In reality, I'm scared. Scared of losing things that honestly...maybe I don't need.

So the first thing I share. I wrote last year that I was genderqueer. Which is true, but not the whole truth. I read this piece recently about an author sharing that she's a transwoman in the closet. And I shared on Facebook that I relate to his piece a lot. Actually I said:

not that my parents were that way, but the wishes. the desires. yep that's me. & i've had the same types of interactions from women that the author does. that i couldn't understand something because I'm "male" & it's made me feel afraid to say anything somedays. i've been disowned because of what my outer appearance appears to be vs how i feel. & this is probably as close as I'll ever get to talking about it. bc I'm afraid. bc i fear the loss that may come. bc i fear the backlash. i get why things are the way they are but it doesn't change anything if we can't listen & understand each other. there is still good in this world. but it will be lost if we don't listen to each other. & i know its hard but its worth. it has to be.

So I was trying to say what I really feel like, but chickened out. But I can't do that anymore. Hell, its part of a comic I'm finishing and I'm still almost to scared to put it in there. But I can't. I won't. Not anymore.

I'm trans. I think I've wanted to be a girl since I was 8 years old. I've never felt comfortable in my body or how it looks or how it feels. I just..I don't. It sucks that there's no magic wand or magic pill that will change it. I don't know if I'll ever go through the transition process, because honestly genetics was not kind to me and my body will never match my head. But par for the course. I am who I am. And I've wanted to be a girl for a long time.

I shared this with a few people a couple of years ago and then stopped talking about it. In part fear. But also in part, because I had a huge falling out with the first person I shared this with. Not over this, well not directly, but other things, like some of what I shared above. And it hurt. A lot. I lost not only their friendship and a lot more in the process because of how I handled the loss, but a lot of other people as well. I still miss them. But I miss not being open and honest. And I'm tired of being scared.

To family & friends, yeah this is a shitty way to spread the news isn't it? And I'm sorry. But I...I don't know a better way. I've been silent and scared for so long, because I was afraid of losing you. I mean, seriously I'm tearing up writing this because I don't want to lose y'all. And trying to have the conversations for me in person or on the phone or even in email would have been so much worse and I would have chickened out. But...this is the truth of who I am. And I can't keep hiding it.

If you were someone that I shared this with a while ago, I'm sorry being silent on the truth, but thank you for not deserting me.

If you're one I lost because of the fallout, I'm sorry and I wish things could have been different.

But I'm done apologizing now. This is me. Hi.

Trying to understand

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 04 Jul 2016 13:06:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/23170612@N05/8716024750/

I think in life we often look to make sense of...well everything. We want the world to make sense, we want to understand why people make the decisions they do. Hell, I just want to understand why my cats wake me up so early in the morning to demand pettings and attention. We just want the world to make sense. Its this innate behavior that I think we all have. It's why we try to organize things, put things into categories, etc. And...unfortunately life doesn't give a shit. It doesn't give us clean answers or clean stories to answer our questions.

And this can be difficult for anyone to take. Its been especially hard for me a lot of the time, being on the spectrum, that I have to know why. There has to be a reason something happened. There has to be a reason for why someone doesn't want to talk to me anymore or something that I can do to fix a relationship that's been broken. There jus has to be!

But life doesn't work that way. And it's hard to recognize this, much less remember it. In my head I want to call these people names and call them out for their behavior. And then I remember the things I did or see in past communications where they were trying to tell me something and I didn't see it. And then I wonder why they were friends with me to begin with. And I fall into a hole of wondering how anyone at all can like me or ever want to be friends with me.And it's a hard cycle to break.

Why write about this now? Because its the cycle I'm in now. I want to scream and cry and shout out and beat my fists against the ground. I want people that stopped talking to me to explain why and to come back and talk to me. And at the same time I want to write to them and tell them how much I miss them and how much I was they could forgive me for the mistakes that I made and the hurt that I caused. And how I wish, oh how I wish we could just talk one more time.

But I can't do that. And I won't. Because it wouldn't do any good other than to bring up the pain for them again of why they walked away. And I don't want to do that to them.

And so I cycle. Wanting the world to make sense and knowing that it never will. Wishing that doors and opportunities and memories weren't closed off. Knowing that I'll have to move on past the hurt and pain at some point, no matter how hard it is. And how many times it comes back. And hope that new memories begin again.

Everything is the same. Everything is different.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 22 May 2016 21:52:00 +0000

http://www.tgcom24.mediaset.it/binary/86.$plit/C_4_foto_1341594_image.jpg

Dr. Stephen Shore once said “If you’ve met one person with autism, you’ve met one person with autism.”

I've been thinking about this quote a lot lately. And it applies to so many different things. Buttons. Cats. People. Gender. Religion. Mental Health. But we as humans have this bad habit of trying to put everyone into groups and saying they'll all act the same, because they have some characteristic in common.

And on the surface it doesn't appear to be a problem right? I mean, hey if people are in a group they must share some things in common right? It's like buttons right? Buttons are all the same after all. They're used to keep things together. I mean, they all come in the same size, shape, color, and number of holes right? So they all function the same way. One button is just as good as another right? Same with people! You've interacted with someone with autism before so you know how they all function. And hey! You've had depression before, so you know how to help your friends with it!

"I've met people with autism and you don't act like them.""I've had depression before, you just need to get more exercise""I've had depression before, why aren't you over yours yet?"

But...man. When you look at those sentences...don't they sound kinda mean? I mean sure, I'm taking them out of context of the larger conversation, but...they mean the same thing even in context don't they? The problem is the other person. They aren't listening to you. They aren't acting like you. They aren't being you. Not a problem with you at all. Nope, no siree bob. It's a problem with them. They need to be like you.

Oh? It's not? That's not what you meant when you said "I've had depression before, why are you over yours yet?" Well...what exactly did you mean?

I've had people before tell me all of the best ways to cure depression. Walks. More exercise. More sunshineeeee!!! Hang out with people more! Talk less. Eat better. On. And on. And on. Some meant well. Some didn't. I'm sure most of them thought they were trying to help on some level, but...man. Have you ever thought about what it really sounds like when you tell someone:

"I've had depression before, why aren't you over yours yet?"

I mean...have you?

I had someone in a position of power tell me this. Someone that I trusted and came to when I was diagnosed. Someone that shared things they did that worked for them. Some worked for me. Some didn't. After a while they became frustrated and told me "You should be better by now. Why aren't you better yet? I got over mine by this point." And man...that was devastating to hear. I did something wrong. I fucked up. I wasn't doing something right. They spent the remainder of that conversation telling me everything that was wrong with me. I lived in the same apartment. I dressed the same every day. Same haircut. Same, same, same.

It took a while for me to realize...I didn't do something wrong. This person? This person that I trusted. This person that was in a position of power...wasn't trying to help me. I don’t know what they were doing to be honest, but I call them a sociopath now.

I’m still undoing the damage they did on me.

I lost people along the way. Ones that I cared about and trusted. Ones that I think believed whatever this other person said. That the problem was me. And some of it was of course. But a lot of it? A lot of it started with that statement “Why aren’t you better yet?”

It’s affected a lot of things along the way. It led me to where I am now. And I know its led me to some of the problems that I’ve had in the last two years. I don’t trust a lot anymore. And I ask too many time if things are ok. I hold on too tight. I take fewer chances. And have my heart broken more. I see more of what I've lost than I've gained and man have I lost a lot. I’ve gained some too.

And I’m still finding my way back.

Everything is the same. Everything is different.

Death is not a blessing

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 21 May 2016 01:54:00 +0000

I started this as a Facebook post and then thought, nope...I need to make this a blog post for others to see. And it's a rough post, not as well written as some of my others, because...well its not an easy topic to talk about and I'm talking about some things I haven't shared before. And maybe I shouldn't share them here, but...sometimes stories need to be told and this is one that I need to tell. And yeah there are some triggers here.

I apparently missed an article that was titled "My former friend's death was a blessing" because this person suffered from mental illness and ended their own life. There are obviously a lot, and I do mean a LOT, of problems with this article and subsequent interviews with the author. The article has been removed (because no shit it should have never been published), but I read this article where they interviewed the author of the article where she say's something that caught my eye: 

“I tried to help her many times, but I also realized when I had discovered this that there was nothing I could do to help her,” said Lauren in response. “I am not as powerful as that illness. I have other stuff going on in my life twenty four hours a day. I really thought about helping her, but I also realized this was not going to be a battle I was going to win.”

Cold hard reality, isn't it? If you're friends or know someone that's been dealing with depression maybe you've thought something like this. Maybe you've said something like this. And I get it. I do. It's a hard thing to help someone...but. Man. It sucks to hear that from people that you trust and care about. And all it does is create an even bigger spiral. I've had people tell me something like this before. That they couldn't be there for me as much as I need it. That I was depending upon them too much. Nothing as harsh and callous as this, but...all the same.

I've half talked about it, but the last couple of years have been rough on my mental health. But last year? Yeah...the spiral I experienced last year included a relationship ending where the person told me something like this. That they couldn't be there for me all the time. That I was depending upon them too much. And I knew it. I worried about it. In the weeks before it ended I knew something was wrong when they wouldn't give me honest answers about things. Little lies of promises of things we were going to do. When I asked if I was depending upon them too much and they told me "no" something didn't feel right. I got that bad feeling in my gut and wondered. 

And I started falling. Falling hard. I was ready to die. To no longer be alive. Whether by my own hand or to just vanish into the night. I didn't care. I was lower than low and I struggled hard and I wasn't sure that I'd make it through each day. I had begun to make plans to end my own life. Like real plans to be done with it. What would happen to my things. What bills would be left. What could be wiped out because I was dead.  And when those words finally came? To have them suddenly go "nope we're done" jerked the carpet out from under me. And I feel even harder.

I had people that reached out. Kept me from sinking. Got some help that I needed. And was starting to recover when I was blindsided again by someone else that said they would help me out suddenly and quickly, ended whatever it was we had. And rumors. Oh god, the rumors that came after...and other relationships ended or suffered because of it.

And just to be clear I am NOT, NOT, NOT holding any of these people responsible for what happened. My own brain did that. These things didn't help though. Maybe things would have been different if I had talked about just where I was and things wouldn't have ended so badly. Maybe it wouldn't have made any difference at all. I don't know. I know I wish things had been different. I wish things hadn't ended as they did. I wish a lot of things had happened differently. But they didn't.

I know one thing I wish I had said sooner was that I didn't need them 24/7. I know it seemed that way, but...man. Depression is a hard thing and it makes for tunnel vision on who you can trust and call on. It makes it hard to reach out to other people to lean on, so you aren't leaning on one person. It makes it hard to do much of anything to be honest.

It's been a long fucking year to be able to get back up again. And I'm still not where I want to be, but I'm better than I was. 

All of this to say...if you know someone that's dealing with depression and they're leaning on you hard. Maybe too hard.  I can't and won't tell you what to do if you're in this position. You've gotta do what's best for yourself also. But, please, get help for yourself. Talk to a counselor, a professional, someone to get advice from. The person leaning may not realize how hard they're leaning and hurting you. Read an article like this one that talks about how hard it is to be the friend. To be the family member. To be the support. I can speak from experience that the person dealing with depression isn't trying to put you into this spot and blinders can be hard to remove.

And if they walk away. If they end their life, please, please don't blame yourself. Ever. No matter what was said, mental illness is NOT any one person's fault.

The Silence is the Worst

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 08 May 2016 14:41:00 +0000

"The Silence of our Friends." It's a powerful idea and I first came across this quote when I read Nate Powell's book "The Silence of our Friends" and it's stuck with me ever since. It resonates in my head far too often on how that silence, that not knowing, that just quietness that comes from people...that's the worst.

Lately its been in my head more often than not. The last couple of years have been rough on me and taken a high emotional toil on my health and well being. Things in GA that happened. Things that happened here in VT. But the worst part of it is all has not been the conflict between people and myself, but the silence of others.

People not wanting to take sides so they stay out of things. People that don't know what to say, so they say nothing at all. And I get it. I do. They don't want to create more conflict or drama or whatever. So they say nothing. They do nothing. And they remain silent, never realizing that by not saying anything, even if its just a kind word or two or just a simple touch, they make things so much worse.

Some did reach out and helped keep me from sinking too far. But others...Perhaps they did do something and the darkness in my head missed it and so they didn't try again. Perhaps they think they did. Perhaps they wanted me to make the first move. Perhaps they were waiting for me to stop being depressed.

All I know is...the silence is the worst.

Please remember

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 03 Mar 2016 00:15:00 +0000

https://theeyesofmymind.files.wordpress.com/2014/12/light.jpg?w=588

In these days when spring struggles to overcome winter, please remember:

To be kind

That we all struggle

That we are all different

Even if our battles seem the same,

they are different and can be so very, very different

so please, please, please be kind.

To yourself

To others

To all

Please remember, that your battle does not = someone else's battle. Even if you fight something with the same name, it will not, and does not appear the same from person to person.

Just because you fight something called depression or anxiety or anything else, and you meet someone else that does as well, you can't get mad at them or disappointed in them, when what worked for you doesn't work for them. Its great to share stories and offer advice, but the best thing you can do is stand by them. And let them know that you care. Even in the darkest moments when all seems lost, just sit with them.

Please don't tell them that they are cowards if they talking of giving up. Please don't insult them & hope that it shocks them into getting well. Don't try to point out all of the things they have that other people don't. Don't give up on them. Please, PLEASE, just stand by them. Their journey is dark and cold and lonely. And offering a spark in the dark, no matter how small you think it is, can help.

And if they leave this world, by their own choice or not, remember that they fought a hard battle, even if you don't see the scars. Remember their fight, remember that they did their best to be brave, even in the darkest of nights.

And for the love of all that is holy, if you ever, and I MEAN EVER, tell someone battling depression that they aren't solving it fast enough for you, or still struggling with it after so many months when it should be over, then I hope you are never put into the same spot. And I hope that if you are, the people you belittled with your comments show you mercy that you never gave them.

postscript: Just to reassure people before they ask I'm fine. I'm in a better place mentally than I was a year ago. And I'm writing this about things I've learned in my battle. Things that didn't help. Things that did. Yes all of these happened, mostly from well meaning people. And yes the last one really did happen by someone that wasn't so well meaning, despite calling themselves a Christian, and was in a position of power. I can only hope that one day she is shown more kindness than she ever gave me or many others.

Autism and the Media

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 22 Jan 2016 00:56:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/

90151774@N00/2597172553/

Please be forewarned this is a ranty post. All because I heard a radio program today. That made me want to go to the radio station and smack the crap out of the hosts. But I can't do that without getting into trouble. So...I write this post instead.

Dear media hosts, please stop talking about autism. Because you're doing way more harm to those of us on the spectrum than helping. Seriously. Unless you're talking to Dr. Temple Grandin, someone with autism, or people with ACTUAL credentials (and I mean advanced degrees that haven't been discredited) just...stop. Don't talk.

Because every time you talk about the increase in the number of people diagnosed and how something in the world changed, whether it be vaccines or food or f'ing space aliens mucking about with our DNA, you make things a thousand times worse for those trying to help people on the spectrum and 10,000 times worse for those on the spectrum. Because all of those things that you say, whether you mean it or not, make it sound like we're less of a person. That we're an accident caused by something that our parents or doctors should have controlled. And that those of us on the spectrum...we shouldn't be alive.

Maybe you don't say that last thing. Maybe you don't support it. But you keep talking to people that do. That treat those of us on the spectrum like we're some type of disease that shouldn't exist. The anti-vaccers basically say it. They would rather have dead children or children with debilitating diseases like polio, than a child on the spectrum. And I get it. They want the "normal" happy child everyone does...but "normal" is bullshit horrible term that doesn't exist. You treat us like we're a mental illness that can be wiped out. That can be solved. But that isn't us.

Maybe some real facts will help you understand why all of this is a dangerous thing for non-experts (and even for experts) to talk about. Take a look at modern medicine in relation to "mental health" care that many people with autism fell into.

We didn't really understand germs and washing hands until well into the 1900's.
Gave mental health patients typhoid fever in the 1920's to rid them of the illness. They won the Nobel Prize in 1927 for that theory.
Put people with mental health issues into diabetic comas in the 1930's
Didn't understand that x-rays could give radiation poisoning until the 1950's.
Preformed electric shock therapy and lobotomies into the 1960's
Well into the 2000's many people on the spectrum were misdiagnosed as ADHD, bipolar, shy, anti-social behavior, etc.
and this doesn't include the numerous other theories or institutions that people were shoved into in order to "help them" disappear from "polite society."

People on the spectrum are not a mental illness. People on the spectrum are people. We've been around since the beginning of time.The reason you see an increase in numbers? That's because people finally stopped trying to shove us out of sight or diagnosing us incorrectly because god forbid we use the label autism, and went "Oh...oh. They are real people."

It's not that we need treatment "to get better." It's that we need understanding. Why does that matter you ask? Because it changes how people treat us. Because more than anything, it changes how we treat ourselves.

I was a misdiagnosed as being ADHD in the 1980's during the boom of, if a kid is weird, different, can't pay attention, seems shy, it must be ADHD. I took medication all the way up until college when I decided to stop. That it wasn't really helping. That often times...it seemed to hurt. It killed my creativity. It stopped my imagination.

I was told I was shy, that I'd grow out of it. That when I was turned down on dates that I was a nice guy and one day girls would magically mature and fall for the nice guy. They didn't. And I didn't stop being shy.

Things didn't get better when I got into the "real world." Things that had been over looked when I was younger, the way I worded things, the way I would approach things, suddenly stopped being acceptable and I couldn't understand why. I still had trouble making friends. I alienated people. I put them off because I did things that weren't "normal." And I had trouble to keep going. I had trouble to understand the point of life and where I fit in. Because maybe since I wasn't "normal" I didn't fit in anywhere. And my life wasn't worth living.

It wasn't until a conversation with a friend whose daughter was on the spectrum. When she described her I kept thinking..."that's me. I do that. Maybe I'm on the spectrum." And when I was diagnosed it helped. It didn't magically change the world. But it made me know that I wasn't stupid or abnormal or whatever else popped into my head. That the things I did, the way I behaved, the who I am, was ok. That the things that I needed to change to fit into "polite society" I could at least figure out. But more than anything it helped me know that I wasn't alone. And that my life was worth living.

So please. Stop talking about Autism. Please stop spreading the lies and inaccurate facts about how "we can be cured" or that this is a disease that needs to be stopped. It isn't. We aren't. Please. Let the world know that we're real people too. And that we deserve respect and understanding. We deserve to live as ourselves.

The Aspie's "I don't understand"

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 31 Dec 2015 01:59:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/44124372363@N01/6583202853/

This is going to run of those rambling type posts, because right now...well the subject is still an open wound for me. Raw and hurting over some things from this past year.

But I have to post about it. In part, because, well not talking about it is a horrid thing, but also I want to help people stop and think for a moment about some interactions they've had. Even if it's just for a moment, to think about how it might be from the other person's perspective.

I try to talk openly about what its like for me being on the Asperger's spectrum. In part to better understand myself, but also to help others understand what it's like. A big one for me has been, that I don't always interpret/understand/read social cues or social norms well. I'll say things that, well....other people would know or just read the situation and know not to say. Me...not so much. I had three great friends in college (Michelle, Michelle, & Vanessa) that were really good about poking me and nudging me and helping me learn the basics of relationships/close friendships...everything that I missed out on from not having a lot of people to hang out with growing up. I don't think they knew just how much they helped, but they did. They also helped a lot, by just accepting me for being me.

Since I was diagnosed as being on the spectrum, I try to tell people upfront about these issues and say "Hey, I'm probably going to say something at some point that comes off the wrong way. I really don't mean it that way, so just let me know so I can learn from it and not do it again." And the reactions have been...well mixed. Some people will say "You're putting the onus on other people! You can't do that! It's up to you to know!" To which my response is...How? I mean, there's not a manual for me to read and study called "Living with people" or a movie, or a TV show, or anything like that. And one thing I have learned is, its different for everyone. I can learn the broad guidelines, which I do know, but for individuals? Man...its rough to pick up nuances without someone saying "Hey, I know you can do that with other people, but please don't do it with me." So I do try to ask people "Hey, let me know that this is the line I can't cross with you." I can only learn from experience.

The worst one for me though, is people that say "Oh sure, I love being honest! And I have no problem telling you." But when it comes time...they don't. They think one thing isn't going to matter, so they let it go. But then a second thing comes along, and a third...and a fourth. And they still say nothing until it explodes out of them! Like a bomb falling. And it ends things. Because while things can be rebuilt after a bomb explodes...its hard. And the foundation is rocky and rough. And I get it, really I do. Its hard for people to say that to someone, because they don't wanna hurt them. But I can tell you from experience that not saying it...its so, so much harder. Because when that end comes, the bomb can be big and the shockwaves can spread.

And that's part of what happened to me this year. A bomb dropped. And it was an atomic size one. Because this person and I shared secrets with each other. They first, and then I second. I said things that I would say to a close friend, because that's what I took us as. They trusted me and I trusted them. I said things that made them uncomfortable. They said things that made me uncomfortable, but I didn't say anything because it wasn't a big deal to me because they were a friend (and still isn't a big deal.) But they didn't tell me when they were uncomfortable by things that I said. And while I could tell something was wrong, when I asked they would say no. Then the bomb dropped. And the shockwaves went far. And are still spreading as best as I can tell.

And I understand its hard. I wish we had both made different choices. I wish they could have been more honest with me before the bomb dropped and after, it might have made the shockwaves smaller. I wish I had gone with my gut and recognized signs that were there and listened to them. But I didn't.

The raw part of the wound though...that's come from after. People for spreading rumors, half truths, and outright lies. For shoving sharp objects into the gaping wounds I have, seemingly for their own enjoyment or cruelty for kicking someone when they're down. For continuing to not be honest about what they needed, wanted, or expected. Mostly though for not listening when I said "I didn't mean it" and "I don't understand."

And those are four hard words to say. I don't understand. Because I don't. I still don't. I understand parts of it, but not all of it. Not what caused the bomb, not what caused the shockwaves to be so huge, and not what caused the outright...hate that's come from it. And I didn't mean it. Whatever it was. I know a lot of people say it when they get caught doing something, but...really...I didn't. A lot of people may say these words when a relationship ends. Its part of normal life, I get it.

But for me? Being on the spectrum? Its 20 times worse. Because I don't know how to not make the same missteps next time. My brain instantly goes to wall up and close off mode. To stop making friends and to stop talking to people altogether. To not say anything. To go into deep depression of struggling just to survive and not ending my life. And that's where I've been.

http://kimberlypackard.com/wp-content
/uploads/2013/04/wedding_crashers_ver7_xlg.jpg

I'm still here. I'm struggling everyday not to be overcome with emotions and memories. I'm struggling to keep standing. I've had friends, many of whom I only know online, that poke and prod and make sure I'm still there. That say "Hey, I'm worried about you. Please let me know you're ok." They've made having a pity party really fucking hard, because my brain goes "No one likes you" and then they show up saying "Hey, I like you." Best party crashers ever. And I'm learning just how much of myself I can keep putting out there without being destroyed by bombs. Its hard. Because my brain wants to do the all or nothing, there is no in between. But I'm trying.

But please, please, please for the love of the universe. Stop. Listen. Talk. Bombs go off everyday. Keep them small. Let the shockwaves be miniscule. Don't be a rumormonger. And be a good party crasher.

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day and I'm still here

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 10 Sep 2015 23:37:00 +0000

Today is world suicide prevention day. The Bloggess writes about it far better than I ever will, but the post really resonated with me. Not only because the being a part of a group of people whose brains routinely turn against us is a comfort to keep me going and that I'm not alone, but also that I have things left to do in this world. And one of them is part of my story.

I wrote last December how I wanted to end my own life, because of how bad things had gotten at my job....and earlier this summer I shared a comic that I was writing for an anthology where there was the possibility of me taking my own life. The first person that I showed it to asked me if I had seriously considered taking my own life, to which the response is yes. Yes I did. Had that thought a lot of times the last few months.

These last few months have been some of the worst I've ever had. Being in a small community of artists and creators has been great in many ways. But at the same time, extremely isolating. I've had trouble figuring out where I belong, what my steps were, and who I am. I never quite found my groove with most people. I had made what I thought was a good friendship that would last a long time. Someone that I felt comfortable sharing things with, things I still haven't told other people. But that friendship ended horribly through actions of both of us. I didn't handle it as well as I could have, affected by more feelings of isolation, not understanding what happened, and having left a horrid situation behind in Georgia to have this happen so soon again....

And then the summer got worse. Rumors about me hurting my exfriend, lies and half truths running around, other rumors, being told that no one wanted me around and that people didn't feel comfortable around me, being accused of having a second twitter account to interact with people that didn't want to interact with me, and on and on. I think some of it started for a sense of protection of the exfriend, concern for them. Which I get. Some was because not a lot of people know me well. I don't make friends easily and I've confused people and made them uneasy because of things I've done or said, even when no harm was meant. And I get that too.

I write this post, because I need to write it. Not to point fingers or blame, but because I've tweeted and posted about anxiety and depression, I haven't shared why really. I haven't shared what caused it, because I didn't want to act like I was pointing fingers or anything else. This has been a horrible last few months and I'm not sure people realized that. Or maybe they did. Maybe they were trying to protect themselves. I don't know.

What I do know is things are much the same for me right now as they were a few months ago and I've realized its because I haven't talked. I haven't shared. So this is my story. I'm still here. Battered, bruised, knife wounds dug deep, arrows in the side, and cuts that will never heal...but I'm still here. Somehow.

Aspie life, Depression, Suicide, and me

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 12 Jul 2015 16:35:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/22897538@N04/4876478060/

Title of the post grab your attention? Good. Take a seat for a bit while I share some things. This post is raw, a bit unpolished, kinda long, and one of the hardest I've written yet. I'm writing it because of things I've learned over the last couple of years, about being on the Asperger's spectrum, about depression, and about myself. Every time I've gotten knocked down the last couple of years, I've pulled out my research skills to learn something new about being on the spectrum and I want to share some of it here.

A caveat before I begin, while I mention things that happened to me, in some cases exact words used and exact situations, I'm not pointing fingers, shaming, or attacking anyone involved in the situations. I want to share my experiences, my life, so that it helps others. I'll never mention anyone by name and if you recognize the situation, please understand that while I may not like what happened between us, I do not blame you for the decisions made. I hope this post will help all of us.

Now to begin.

As of 2012 in the United States alone, adults over the age of 18, 6.9% of the population experienced or dealt with at least one major depressive episode. Add in people under 18, and the percentage increases to well over 7%. Information from the CDC puts that number at 1 out of 10 people that you meet every day is dealing with depression. And those numbers are underreported, because of the stigma of being associated with it. As the stigma slowly lessens this number grows. An inforgraphic from healthline.com indicates that the number of diagnoses with depression grows by 20% each year. So chances are likely that 2 or 3 out of every 10 people you meet is dealing with depression. While suicide and depression don't have to go hand and hand together, they are often associated with each other. Many that suffer from depression often look at suicide as an end to the hurt and pain that they can no longer bear to suffer from. Looking at a suicide fact sheet from the CDC indicates that 3.7% of adults in the US have suicidal thoughts, 1% make plans, and .5% make attempts.

Got that number in your head? Good.

Because those numbers are even higher in the Asperger's community. Depression and anxiety go hand in hand together with Asperger's, no wonder given the challenges we face in interacting with the world. At present there is not a definitive number to point to, as research is only just now really beginning, even those the two have been correlated together for some time. However, recent studies indicate that 30% of adults with Asperger's are diagnosed with depression and 60%+ of those under 18 are diagnosed with depression. Some even give figures of 75% or more on the spectrum (all ages) being diagnosed with depression. Even more troubling a recent study conducted in the UK and published in the journal Lancet Psychology on Asperger's and suicide. The team conducted a survey among 374 adults that had been diagnosed as being on the spectrum between 2004 and 2013. 66% reported suicidal thoughts and 35% of those reported plans or attempts at suicide. Look at that number. 66% vs. 3.7%.

Now, I'm sure some of you going, but you're looking at the US vs. the UK, smaller sample size, only one study, blah, blah, blah. It doesn't matter. Why? Because only in the last 5 years have there been real efforts to look at and help people on the spectrum and more research is needed. Even more disturbing, look at the percentages. 66% reported suicidal thoughts. 10 TIMES MORE than the average person! 10!! (Number quoted from the article cited above)

Why do I go through all of the trouble of talking about this? Because this is my life. I battle depression, anxiety, and in the last few years have struggled with thoughts of taking my own life. And if I'm honest with myself, I've wished to have another life since I was 6 years old, because I knew I didn't fit in and I couldn't understand why. All I could think was, if I was something or someone else, life would be better. I'd fit in better to the world around me. And that's a form of suicide in itself.

I've had a lot of very well meaning people try to offer advice on how to handle depression, anxiety, and my struggle to fit in. They tell me about the challenges they've faced or things that they've read about it that helped them or others they know. They share experiences and try to help. But after awhile they get worn down and leave. Either because its dragging them down, or that I'm not following their advice to a T, or they're just tired of me talking about it. And I get it, I do. They want to help and they think I'm not listening or trying. Or they think I don't understand that other people don't deal with the same issues But here's the thing...I am listening and trying and hearing. I do understand other people deal with depression. But think about it from my perspective for a moment.

Being on the spectrum means that I have no idea of what is "normal" when dealing with people. Seriously. I look at groups of people and all I can think is...how do they do that? How do they interact together? How do they have conversations? How do they know when to stop? How do they know who their friends are? How do they know when to share and what to share? How did they decide to get together today? How do they make plans for the next time? How long do they wait before making plans for the next time? How do they communicate that? How do they tell jokes? How do they know when to laugh? And on, and on, and on. That's what I think when it comes to interacting with people. I have to ask myself those questions every, single time it comes to interactions with new people or a different mix of people or I have to take into account the last time I talked to one person, they seemed pissed at me, but are they really pissed at me or was it something else? I have to build a script into my head of how I need to approach and interact with things, which is great when its one person! But you and on more and more people...and it becomes overwhelming. And recall in my last post I talked about rules I have to build in my head? Rules of what's funny when and to whom and in what situation. Some rules are about 40 lines of code long based upon situations, time, day, etc. And what happens when the script doesn't go the right way? Chaos. My mind swirls and tries to figure out how to recover from it.

Did that make your head hurt reading it? That's what its like in my head every second, every minute, every hour, of every day that I have to interact with people. That's what I deal with on a daily basis. When you're offering me advice, well meaning as it is to say "You know everyone struggles with that, you just have to BS your way through things. It's like improv!" or "Open your window and get some light" or "Be positive! Everyone will like you more." I have to run all of those situations through my head. Each time. What are the variables? What are the computations? And after a while...I can't. I can't make it work because it's too complicated. Or I just know it isn't going to work, because...well I do understand my brain well enough to know I can't suddenly walk into a group and go "Hey! How are y'all? Can I sit with you? How's your day going?" I have to build the script first. I have to run the computations. And if the script breaks...I do.

And I know, I know some of you are thinking "Well quit being stupid! Make it simpler! You can change!" And to that I say BULLSHIT! Seriously, some things I can change and learn from. But basic functions of my brain? I'd have better luck convincing my body to grow a third eye. Think about it this way, you wouldn't walk up to someone with PTSD or Severe Social Anxiety Disorder and say "Hey! It's all in your head get over it and yourself! You can do anything!" would you? (and if you answered yes, please kindly let someone smack some sense into you.) It isn't easy. And some thing...some things I just can't change.

With that in mind, I want to share a small primer about myself. In the last couple of years I've had people ask me about what it means to be Asperger's and everytime I answer...it changes. Not because the previous answer was invalid, but because I've learned more about the condition everytime something happens. So here's a primer on me and the spectrum at the moment:

I view myself as a kind, caring, compassionate person and a good listener and a good friend. I'll go to the ends of the known universe and beyond for probably almost anyone. I'll stand by your side when you need me, I'll give you my trust, and I'll help as much as I can in anyway possible. And I'll take the rear guard to watch your back and jump forward to protect your front if you need it. In a lot of ways, I'm a like a giant 5 year old kid. That age where we can become best friends because we watch the same cartoons, like the same flavor of lollipop, and agree that we'll fight the monsters til the end of the day. I have a good first sense of who people are, who to trust, and who not to. I'll be polite to you as I can be even if you fall into the category of people I don't trust. I'll give you a chance to earn my trust and once earned, it takes a good bit to break.

But I don't like bullies. Physical, verbal, emotional, whatever. I'll stand up to you, I'll tell you off, and I'll fight for those that I care about. I'll push and prod and nudge if I need to so that you can speak your side of the story, but I won't tolerate someone hurting people that I care about. And I have a long memory.

When it comes to relationships, I'm like a 5 year old kid. That age where we can become best friends because we watch the same TV show and like the same flavor of lollipop. That age where you trust easily, recognize the bullies quickly, and try to get along with everyone. While other people grew out of it...I didn't. When people have told me lately that I'm trying to be friends too quickly, I literally don't understand that, because it isn't how my brain works. I trust easily and take people at their word unless they give me reason to think otherwise. If I think we connect and I like hanging out with you, then I'll call you a friend. If I like you, like you (like in a crush), I wear my heart on my sleeve openly and freely. 99% of the time, I know that nothing will ever happen and I don't say anything about it. If I trust you enough, if I consider us good enough friends, then I'll openly tell you that I have/had a crush on you but I don't expect it to go anywhere. Apparently this isn't common or normal...but it's what I am.

If you ask me my opinion, I'll give it to you. And based upon the rules I've learned over the years, if you say "Don't you like my new boots? They really make my legs look nice don't they?", I'm going to say "Wow, your legs really do look nice" because I figure that's what I'm supposed to do. And I'll probably say it another couple of times because...well I think its still what i'm supposed to do. I don't mean to make people uncomfortable, its just what I think I'm supposed to do.

I'm honest to a fault. I'll give you my opinion with no bullshit, because its how my mind works. It may sound like I'm being rude or negative or just trying to be mean, but honestly....those thoughts don't enter into my head 99% of the time. I'm just telling you what I think or how I feel.

I've been told that I glare or don't look approachable or look hurt or thousands of other things when people are approaching me or giving me feedback and....honestly 95% of the time...that's not how I mean to look. As part of being on the spectrum, I don't always display the right expression to match my emotion. Why? Because I don't understand a lot of facial expressions. I've gotten better over the years, don't get me wrong, but...when it comes to displaying them myself? Well...I never learned how. Do you know how hard it is to teach yourself something that comes naturally to other people? It's like trying to learn to work with your non-dominant hand and become ambidextrous. I can do it...but it takes practice and help and...well to be honest I didn't know that's what I was doing until a couple of years ago. Nor did I have any clue how bad it was.

Its hard for me to talk about myself. I mean, I know this post and others make it seem like its easy, but, everytime I set down to write I start thinking "Well...if I talk about this I may piss off this person. Even though we aren't talking anymore I don't wanna do that. Maybe I'll skip that. Well no...I can't. I'll just...I'll just say at the top this isn't about any one person maybe that will work." Seriously. For everything I've shared I've had to stop and think. At one point I even considered emailing one person and saying "Hey I'm writing this please dear god don't think section is about you because it isn't, its about other people." And the other issue is as I've mentioned before...I have no concept of normal. I mean, how do other people feel? Is it normal to feel down? I never identified with depression before because people told me "Oh everyone feels down from time to time"...it was only when I researched and told the doctor that my down times last for a week they went "Yeah...yeah that's not normal. Let's get you some help."

Matthew Rozsa wrote this great post about his experience on the spectrum and this paragraph really hits home for me:

If you have Asperger's, however, the nonverbal aspects of communication do not come naturally to you. Although people with Asperger's are no more likely to have linguistic or cognitive difficulties than anyone else, we do not automatically process the thousands of ways people communicate nonverbally. As a result, we have enormous difficulty functioning in social situations, from abiding by the unspoken rules of etiquette (and there are so, so many) and gauging how to avoid dominating conversations to coming across as inappropriate or rude without intending to. If life in a society is a game (and make no mistake about it, it is), having Asperger's forces you to play while learning two-thirds of the rules as you go along, even as everyone else knows them instinctively ... and assumes you do too.

I apologize too much. Which, honestly, I didn't realize was a thing. But this article gives a pretty good idea of what goes through my head when I make a mistake and I'm owning up to it.

Penelope Trunk summarizes it well:

You know when you’re on the highway and everybody moves along like a ballet – merging, exiting, changing lanes. There’s moving over for a truck. There’s moving away if you’re blocking someone who wants to go faster than you. There are all kinds of unwritten rules we adhere to in order to not run each other over.

The Asperger car is the one on cruise control at exactly the speed limit. Technically, that’s what everyone is supposed to do, but there are a million scenarios where if you refuse to slow down or speed up, you actually make everyone else’s life hell.

But there’s no way to tell that annoying car, “Hey, you’re breaking the law,” (because they’re not) and you can’t tell them, “Hey, you’re being inconsiderate,” (because they’ll say, “Well, that merging car could have slowed down until I got by.”) You can’t tell that car, “Hey, there are some unwritten rules you’re not paying attention to.” (They’ll say like what? And then they will argue.

So there’s no way to tell the annoying car they’re annoying because they actually don’t understand the concept of annoying. They only understand the concept of right and wrong. People with Asperger’s have an intense need to do the right thing the right way. But often they fail to see what that is: Am I doing the speed limit? I’m right.

Some other things are mentioned in these posts. Broad, generic, or specific to one person...sure. But they apply to me as well. This one really hits how I talk and speak.

So...this is me in a nutshell. So what do I hope happens from this post? Maybe some conversation. Maybe people that I've hurt in the last couple of years will better understand where I'm coming from. Maybe people in the future will better understand me. Do I expect this to be the magical solution to fix relationships I've lost? No. But it at least lets me put things out there as a start.

NOTE: I've used my best research skills to pull together the information in this post from reliable and up to date sources, but I am not a doctor and did not take part in any of these studies.

Something about me

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 07 Jul 2015 15:22:00 +0000

I'm not sharing any pictures with this post, because none would seem right. Instead I want you to read something, about someone else, but how their story relates to me. And then...go from there.

This morning I was catching up on my RSS feeds and was reading a post on Mashable, when I saw a picture on the side of the page about a teen on the Asperger's spectrum and a recent encounter he had with some bullies. Being on the spectrum myself, I had to read it. And I followed the link to his Mom's facebook page, and what she shared there. Please stop for a moment and go and read it...I'll wait.

Not read it yet? Seriously go back and read it now.

Smart kid no? But I have a lot of thoughts swirling in my head about what the kid is going through, but I wanted to share this to point out a couple of things that I experience...still. On a daily basis. With adults. With teens. With people in between. While I've not had the physical bullying (at least not in a very long time), but what's said about him, being "weird", rude, uninterested, detached, etc...those are all things I've had said about me. The experience of trying to understand rules and then not understanding how to break them or when its ok to break them or that everyone seems to have different variations of what they consider the "right" rule...that's what I go through on a daily basis.

Do you know how hard that is? To just make it through normal life is bad enough sometimes, but to have to add in the fact that you don't understand social interactions when everyone else seems to get it, sucks. A lot. And I know, I know some of you are sitting there saying "Oh we all experience that from time to time." No...no you don't. You don't have the anxiety of watching people to figure out what they do, what they say, how you're supposed to approach that person that you're interested in, how you're supposed to talk to someone that you want to be friends with, how to just ask someone how to hang out with you over the weekend, how to hold down a job, how to talk to a boss, and thousands upon thousands of other things on a daily basis.

The only way I know I survive is by building rules into my head. If x + y then do z. And it gets more complicated as I get older and find that people do things differently based upon where they grew up, how they were raised, who they were raised by, what year they were born, what their life experiences are, and so on. And there's no manual to read! And if you don't instinctively understand it, then a lot of the time its "Fuck you! You're weird leave me alone!" Or "Fuck you! You seem like a nice guy, but you aren't. You're mean!"

That's what life is like for me. Every. Single. Waking. Day. I have to learn rules and then have to keep up with how they change for each individual person or each group or anything else. And its hard. It increases my depression and anxiety. It makes it hard to function on a daily basis. And people...god people don't make it easier. Some are just bullies to begin with. Others think they understand, but they get frustrated after a while of not acting exactly like them or in the way they think I should. And no...not everyone is like that. But a lot.

And I know some people are thinking, "why didn't you ever tell me it was like this? Why didn't you share? I would have tried to help!" And the answer is...for a long time, I thought this was normal. And then when I found out it wasn't? How do I put it into words of what I go through everyday? And sometimes...sometimes when I did share it and put it into words, people got scared and ran away. What do I do with that? Do I risk losing what I have, because of the possibility that everyone will react that way? How do I know?

And that's why.

I don't write this for sympathy or to badger people into changing, but instead for understanding. Understand that we're all different. Maybe the guy next to you really is an asshole. Or maybe he acts that way because he's on the spectrum and been hurt so many times he gave up on trying.

And one last note. Remember just because you don't physically hurt someone, doesn't mean that you aren't a bully anymore. Words can hurt just as much, if not more.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Normal isn't real

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 29 Jun 2015 16:07:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/57768341@N00/3558561251/

Lately I've been thinking a lot. About who I am, what I am, what is real, what isn't real, dreams, reality, dinosaurs, etc. etc..and I keep coming back to a few things.

1) That we live in a very weird and disturbing world where we try to tell people that they aren't people, because they don't conform to our idea of "normal" or reality. Apparently being different means that you aren't really human, you're something else, like an otter. I pick otters, because at least otters are cute and playful.

2) That we have trouble accepting what someone is trying to change and grow, even though it doesn't match our version of "normal" or how we do things. This is something that I experience a lot being on the Asperger's spectrum. For example, how I take criticism. I honestly thought I took it well, because I want to learn and improve from it. I found out recently from several people I trust and that care about me, that nope...I'm kinda of a defensive asshole about it. It isn't how I mean to appear and I've gotta figure out how to work around that, but I'm willing to change. Some people though...just don't understand that. They think I'm just an uncaring asshole, even though I'm trying to learn. And part of the problem is that no one has ever told me this before. Or not in a way that stuck with me. I mean, I don't know about y'all but I can't change what I don't know. And if you tell me "Well you know some people have trouble accepting criticism" I'm going to go "Yep, they sure do" and not realize that you're talking about me, because...well I'm oblivious unless you sit down and go "OK Andy, this is hard to say and hard to hear, but when someone is giving your critical feedback you're reacting this way." And I can say "Wow...well that's not what I meant to have happen. What I'm trying to do is ask questions and figure out what the heck is going on and how I can improve. I'm not trying to be an asshole." And we can come to some type of shared reality and go forward.

3) That as a collective humanity tends to have their heads stuck in hole in the ground, insisting that they're getting enough sunlight coming in through the gaps in the ground and that if we try to take them out of it, that there's just way too much sun, and screw seeing colors and shit we've never seen, we like our hole and we'll stay in it!

Lastly though I'm realizing that...normal isn't real. I wrote a post a while back about normal being bullshit, but I've realized normal isn't real either. It doesn't exist at all. It's this ideal that some people have about wanting us to be stuck in a group together so that we can determine how other people should behave or should act or should think and so on. And while it sounds great in theory...it isn't. Because we as a culture take it to the extreme. We look at the most popular or biggest group and say "OK those people are normal that's how we should all act. They get 8 hours of sleep, work 40+ hours a week, have 2.5 kids, a dog, a house, a white picket fence, eat meat & drink and read about business and the news" and so on and so forth. And while it's great they don't do things that are decidedly wrong...how is that something to strive for? How is that something that we should all do?

And we extend it to behaviors as well. "Its not normal to ask so many questions!" "Its not normal to act like an asshole while accepting criticism!" "Its not normal to not know what type of face that your making!" and on and on and on. There are other ones that I've gotten, but I'm not at a point where I can write them out yet. Or feel comfortable writing them out yet. But, I've been told enough times in the last few years that I'm not normal, that I hate the word. Some people were trying to help, some were trying to bullies, some were somewhere in between...either way. Normal is a horrid word.

We are a wide and diverse group of people, with a variety of ideas and talents and concepts, why should anyone have to fall into "normal"? Why can't we accept people for how they are and encourage them to leave "normal" behind? And to explore the limits they can reach? I know this encourages good and bad, but...we soar to far greater heights when we tell people to reach for the stars than to be "normal." How far can you reach?

Thinking Type Things

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 11 Jun 2015 00:23:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/46611258@N00/309091529/

Let me start this post off with a bit of a caveat. This is going to be a post that makes people uncomfortable. If you want to turn away now, that's ok. If you want to stay, that's ok too. And for some they'll likely be wondering if the things I'm writing are directed at them. And the answer is yes. And no. Its not written with anyone specific in mind, but with everyone I've ever encountered in my life. If you read something and think I'm making comments about you, pointing fingers at you, or whatever, please don't take it personally. I'm not. I'm just trying to get thoughts out of my head to help people better understand me.

I've had a lot of things on my mind lately. Good things. Bad things. In between things. Things that make me cringe in horror. Things that make we want to go screaming into the night never to return.

And that last is where I am at the moment. I've spent the last few months working my way back from one of the worst bouts of depression I've had in a long, long time. It was bad enough that I was planning out what would happen after I died. Not when or how, but that I knew I was ready to end it all and I was figuring out how to take care of the things that needed to be taken care of. I wasn't just on the edge of the cliff, I was hanging on by two fingers and actively letting myself slip off. I'm not sure I've ever been there before. Lots of things led to it, but I was there.

These days I'm working myself slowly back. Right now most days I just want to run into the woods and not return. Be the crazy dude that lives in some cave and jabbers at the squirrels and birds in my own language. And some days I just can't deal. I have to remind myself that there are some people that would track me down in the afterlife, kick my ass, and tell me to come hang out with them for a bit and get me to feeling a bit better. Zombie life or not.

So I'm a couple feet back from the cliff now. And trying to figure out the next move. And so I've been thinking a lot. Who I am. Who I want to be. How I communicate. Who I want to communicate with. All of it. Everything. And it's led me to a few things I want to share about me.

I've talked before about discovering what life is like on the Asperger's Spectrum before and everything that comes from it. And its a lot to handle. I mean seriously. Not just for me, but for people that I interact with online, in person, in passing...wherever. Its been enlightening and frightening to discover the things that I do that aren't part of the "social norm." Most of the time its scary as hell, because things I've done all of my life, I had no idea they weren't part of "normal" behaviors. My brain just never caught onto it. And I want to change you know? I don't want to do things or say things that make other people uncomfortable. And I'm making changes slowly. Seriously, I'm trying to change what I can. But its hard you know?

People don't like confrontation and they don't want to be hurtful....so they don't tell me things. They let things build up to the boiling point and walk away. Its happened so often I feel like I need to wear a flack jacket all the time to protect myself. But...I hurt because I don't want that to happen. I don't like hurting people. I don't like losing friendships or acquaintances or whatever the heck we are.

But its more than that. I'm not aware of how I'm coming across when I'm reacting to things. Am I showing distress? Am I glaring? Am I acting like I don't care? I mean seriously what am I doing??? I don't know what it looks like when I'm getting feedback...because that's another aspect of being on the spectrum. I often think I'm project calm or neutral and its apparently not those things, but I don't know what it is!

And then there's this post. This is all stuff that I want all of you to know. Seriously. I'm not trying to be socially unacceptable or cruel or whatever else it is. I'm just trying to fit in and I don't know how. Trying to do the things I've seen other people do, trying to do what I think is right, but sometimes it comes off wrong. Or out of place. But I am trying, as best as I can.

So I'm trying. Trying to learn. Trying to move on. Trying to understand. Trying to be understood.

Last Call for Donations

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 21 Apr 2015 14:34:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/71774187@N05/12764890503/

Hey all, one last call for the donation drive to help me with school for the next year. Things are a bit better than when I launched the campaign, but any help would be greatly appreciated.

If you've been following my blog for a while, you know that I'm currently pursuing my dream of completing an MFA at the Center for Cartoon Studies in Applied Cartooning, with the goal of working with libraries and the community to help them connect to comics. To help me towards this goal, I launched a a call for donations in December to help me pay for the upcoming school year. Since I launched it I've gotten support (thank you!).

So here's the deal. The Center for Cartoon Studies is a fantastic and great school and is accredited by the state of Vermont, but not nationally. This isn't an issue at all, but for one thing...it limits where I can get loans from to pay for school to one place. This one place offers great rates, but does require a cosigner on the loan. I put a burden on my parents to have them cosign for me this year, which I greatly appreciate, but I can't ask them to do it again.

Now, as of right now I do have two PT jobs that will cover most of my living expenses. But there are things on the horizon that will complicate things a little bit. Plus the fact that I would really like to put some money down for the school.

So what do I need?

If you can contribute that would be great. Any money raised will go towards paying for tuition for next year.
Want to help your library, school, place of business better understand comics and how you can use them? Hire me.
I'm going to be teaching classes on comics, sign up to take them. Here's the first one at Library Juice. Others will be posted on this blog as they're posted.
Looking for an artist for reports, portraits, or just for an idea for comic and books? Take a look at some of my work and let me know if we can work together.

The deal still remains that I will create a unique piece of original art for every person that helps. It may take some time, but I promise it will happen.

So that's the deal. If you can help out that's great. If you can offer support that's great to. I'm making the dream happen and I'm glad that y'all are along for the ride

What types of comics classes do YOU want to see?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 12 Mar 2015 16:07:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/22793404@N00/2333029114/

A few weeks ago I posted that I was teaching a class on comics for Library Juice on "Comics, Literacy, and Standards" and I have a couple of more in the works. But honestly...I don't think there are enough classes on comics in the world and I want to create more of them!

Now, while I have plenty of ideas on what types of classes I'd like to offer, I'd love to hear what you're interested in learning about! So if you can take a few minutes to fill out my survey that would be most helpful. And stay tuned to find out what classes are coming next!

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Update on Fund Raising Goal

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 10 Mar 2015 15:38:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/71774187@N05/12764890503/

If you've been following my blog for a while, you know that I'm currently pursuing my dream of completing an MFA at the Center for Cartoon Studies in Applied Cartooning, with the goal of working with libraries and the community to help them connect to comics. To help me towards this goal, I launched a fundraiser in December to help me out with the upcoming school year. Since I launched it I've gotten support (thank you!) and some criticism....but I wanted to provide an update on what's going on and a bit more information on why I'm fundraising.

Now, could I leave the school, find a FT job, and save money to come back and finish later? I'm sure I could. But...I can't. For a lot of reasons, including health reasons, I need to keep on this path on finishing the degree on time. Thus why I started the fundraiser for this upcoming year.

Now, as of right now I do have two PT jobs that will cover most of my living expenses and I've arranged to do a payment plan with the school, so I'm starting to get things covered a little bit. But there are things on the horizon that will complicate things a little bit. Plus the fact that I would really like to put some money down for the school.

So what do I need?

If you can contribute to my fundraiser that would be great. Any money raised will go towards paying for tuition for next year.
Want to help your library, school, place of business better understand comics and how you can use them? Hire me.
I'm going to be teaching classes on comics, sign up to take them. Here's the first one at Library Juice. Others will be posted on this blog as they're posted.
Looking for an artist for reports, portraits, or just for an idea for comic and books? Take a look at some of my work and let me know if we can work together.

The deal still remains that I will create a unique piece of original art for every person that helps. It may take some time, but I promise it will happen.

So that's the deal. If you can help out that's great. If you can offer support that's great to. I'm making the dream happen and I'm glad that y'all are along for the ride.

Time to bury the word Normal

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 19 Feb 2015 00:57:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/36330824954@N01/3756538006/

"You should cut your hair. You should wear nicer clothes. Those are toys for girls, you should play with toys for boys. Don't you want to fit in? Don't you want to have friends?"
"Don't you want to be NORMAL?"

Normal.

It's a word that we all use. One single word. Just one. But what a horrible and deadly word it is.

We use it to describe our day. To describe someone else...or to describe how we want to be. Society encourages this. All while telling us to be embrace our uniqueness and differences, it tells us that we should strive to be NORMAL. To fit in. In school, in work, in church...wherever we go. Society tells us that we should all strive to be NORMAL. That it's better to be NORMAL. NORMAL is an ideal. And that ideal is absolute and total bullshit.

I heard the word NORMAL a lot growing up. Hell, I heard it a lot even after I was done growing up. People tossed the phrase at me like it was candy. "You need to look like them. You need to act like they do. Be more like them. FIT IN! Be NORMAL!" I heard that from people that meant well and wanted me to be happy and successful. I heard it from people that didn't give a shit about me at all and were disgusted that I couldn't be shoved into a box. Whatever they meant, it had the same effect. I started not to stand out. To not embrace what made me, me. I started fading into the background. To slowly have my spirit die. To slowly kill me.

I'm sure some of you are thinking that maybe I'm going a bit over the top with this. That "fitting in" and "normal" aren't the same thing. But stop and think about it for a moment. How many times has someone told you that you should fit into the norm? How many times have you wished you could be NORMAL like a friend of yours? They may sound different, but we often use the word "NORMAL" to mean to fit in. And how horrible is that? Why should we hide what makes us, us?

And I get it, there are some things that are norms that are good, like not being a sociopath or a bully. But as to the rest? Normal is bullshit. It causes the death of identity. Death of a spirit. Death of a soul. It bullies us until nothing is left but despair and darkness.

So what do we do? Do we continue to tell people to be normal? Or do we let people soar? To discover who and what they are. To discover what they might be. It is time for the word normal to die a quick and painless death. It is time to give it a funeral and to move on. To encourage people to be themselves.

I'm teaching a class on comics, sign up!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 17 Feb 2015 17:41:00 +0000

I'm excited to announce that this August I will be teaching a class for Library Juice Academy called "Comics, Literacy, and Standards." It's a 4 week class and here's what we'll be covering:

Comics have made their mark upon the world of entertainment, from movies, TV, to even music. Now they're beginning to show up in discussions on promoting education and literacy for students of all ages. How is this possible? And how do you make the argument to administration and teachers that comics have value beyond just entertainment? This course will give you the basics of terminology, standards that comics meet, and ways to sell these important works to the administration and faculty that you work with.
By the end of the course you will be able to:

Define basic comics terms, such as gutter, panel, border, caption and more.

Outline a basic argument of how comics:

Support literacy and critical thinking skills

Support and meet the common core standards in multiple areas

Promote both verbal and visual literacy for readers

Match standards to comics

Match comics to programs and readers, based upon content, images, style and purpose.

If this is an area of the comics world that you'd like to learn more about then sign up and we'll get started in August. Hope to see you all in August!

Why The Guardian's piece on comics is worrying

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 16 Feb 2015 17:30:00 +0000

http://thesethingsmatterpodcast.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/Ep94_coverpic1.jpg

If you follow comic folks, creators or just about anyone with a passion for comics and graphic novels you might have seen them...vent (and that's putting it lightly)...about this piece from The Guardian by Jonathan Jones. Basically Jones says that R. Crumb is the only true standard for comics, all current comics are bland, and all of the artists need to learn how to create art again.

Excuse me for a second. I'm going to go curse, you go read the piece and then come back.

*clears throat* OK that feels a bit better. Where was I? Right why Jones and The Guardian's piece cause harm.

Let's go ahead and get the obvious out of the way, Jones is writing an opinion piece. He's entitled to his opinion that R. Crumb is only true artist and the gold standard for one. And if Jones were to go out and tweet that or post it on his personal blog, more power to him. He's standing on his own two feet saying it.

The problem is here he isn't...he's standing on the coattails of The Guardian and using his position to say something as if it's fact. And Jones does have a position that is listened to. He writes The Guardians art section, he does reviews of books and shows, and he's served on national prize committees which doesn't just happen unless you have a voice that is listened to. And Jones does. He's done a cursory glance through the local bookstore, sized up what's on the shelf and said that this what's been doing everywhere in comics. Let's ignore the fact that the local bookstore has probably done some selective buying, Jones hasn't bothered to actually look at the world around him and see what's really out there. To see the diversity and the range that exist, not just in published graphic novels at bookstores, but ones at comic shops, at conventions, on the web, hell even those just being handed out on the street corner.

http://www.english.ufl.edu/imagetext/archives/v5_1/bennett-jackson/03.jpg

I'm sure some of you are saying "Oh it's just one paper, what harm does one piece do?" The problem is in this day of social media and newspaper closings, that one piece suddenly becomes much bigger as its shared numerous times. People will ignore the fact that its opinion and see something from an established paper and a known name and take it as fact. Papers, news organizations, will run with it and claim that comics are banal and boring and not worth the time and energy. Soon it will get tossed in with some of the other arguments against comics that we so often see as well. And that one piece will spread much further than it should.

While this may not be "that piece" the question remains what should we do about it? While some prefer to ignore it and let it die, I feel the better solution is to talk about it. Keeping silent only gives something power. Speaking about it, presenting other opinions and sides, lets other voices be heard. In this case Jones and The Guardian, since they published this piece they have to take responsibility for it as well, need to actually examine what comics are out there. That comics are as diverse and numerous as the stars in the heavens, and that each person that creates them has their own style and way of telling a story. Some of them are just beginning, some are at the hight of their powers, and some are nearing the end of their stories. But all of them, no matter if they even look similar to another one, are different. All of them have their own way of creating. And while Jones and The Guardian may not like some of them, there are others out there they may. And if they don't, if they want to continue to insist that R. Crumb is the only true standard, that's fine. They are allowed that opinion. But...and this is important, but they need to acknowledge that while they don't like something, while they think artists are bland and boring, others won't. And it isn't a problem, it isn't something to moan about it, it's something to cherish that everyone can find something they enjoy.

There's is a much wider world out there than what's found on the shelf of your local bookstore. Comics are only bland if you move in the dark. This is your flashlight. Go forth and explore what's out there. And share what you find.

Library awards and graphic novels

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 04 Feb 2015 12:46:00 +0000

https://www.flickr.com/photos/43134988@N00/3919031469/

Although it may seem strange to some folks the Superbowl was not the only big event in the world this week. No, in libraryland and in the publishing world ALA Midwinter occurred. And why is this a big event that people should care about? Because it's where the winners and honors of some of the major book awards, such as the Caldecott, Newbery, Printz, and many others are announced. And this year...this year some fantastic graphic novels won some of these awards. And yes...yes this is important and I'll explain why in a minute.

Some of the winners include:

This One Summer by Jillian Tamaki and Mariko Tamaki and published by First Second which won the Caldecott honor, which is awarded "to the artist of the most distinguished American picture book for children." It is the first graphic novel to ever win such an award (although The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick did win the award in 2008, it does not typically get classified as a true graphic novel, since it mixes written chapters with illustrated chapters.) Not only that, but the book also won a Printz honor, which is given for excellence in writing in young adult literature. It is only the second ever graphic novel to be given this award, the first being Gene Yang's American Born Chinese. This One Summer is a beautifully written and illustrated work by the Tamaki cousins and you can find my review of it here.

An award that I don't hear much about, but is important none the less, is the Batchelder award, which is given to the best book published in another language and then translated into English. And one of this year's honor winners was Hidden: A Child’s Story of the Holocaust by Loïc Dauvillier, Marc Lizano (Illustrations), Greg Salsedo (Ink), Alexis Siegel (Translator) and published by First Second. As far as I can find (and I maybe wrong on this) this is the first time that a graphic novel has ever been honored with this award. This is a moving and powerful book on what it's like to experience the Holocaust from the a child's perspective, something that I don't see much of. You can find my review of it here.

The last major award is the Newbery award, which is given to the author of the most distinguished contribution to American literature for children. Think about that for a second...distinguished contribution to American literature for children. And for the first time ever a graphic novel won a Newbery Honor. El Deafo by Cece Bell, which is written and illustrated based upon her experiences growing up with hearing problems and getting a hearing aid for the very first time and discovering it is like a superpower! One that can be used for good, or for evil.

OK so graphic novels won awards, yay! Happens all the time right? True, they do....but not generally from the library awards committees! And why is that important? Here are some of the previous winners of the Newbery awards: The Giver by Louis Lowry, Holes by Louis Sachar, The Whipping Boy by Sid Fleischman, and Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan among countless others. Caldecot winners? The Lion & the Mouse by Jerry Pinkney, The Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburg, Jumanji by Chris Van Allsburg, and Ox-Cart Man, illustrated by Barbara Cooney; text: Donald Hall, among many others. How many of these titles do you recognize? How many have you read or your kids read? Probably close to all of them. And why is that? Oversimplifying a bit, but its because libraries typically buy and promote award winning books. They know they've been vetted, have name recognition, and an award that a lot of folks will recognize. And now graphic novels have cracked into the Newbery and Caldecott award winners. This not only gives them instant recognition and status among libraries, but also allows them to start finding their way onto more shelves into more libraries.

These awards are like Hollywood status among books. Rock stars, movie stars, famous athletes, etc. It gives them an instant cache among many people and a front of the line pass of "Oh you won that award! Well sure we can let you have a table now." Should it take graphic novels winning awards to make their way onto library shelves? No...they shouldn't. But it's a start to make inroads. It's a start to get people to realize that graphic novels and comics aren't just superheroes or Archie comics. That they are so much, much more. And that even superheroes and Archie comics have changed drastically in the last 10 years! But that's a post for a different day.

One day it will be common place for graphic novels to win awards like the Newbery, Caldecott, and Nobel Prizes. But today is not that day. Today we celebrate the books that are not only great works of literature, but have started breaking the barriers of awards. That are proving that illustrated works are just as important as straight prose books. That are finally allowing many authors, illustrators, educators, librarians, publishers to shout "Booyah! See we told you graphic novels were fantastic!" and then get back to work to continue the fight.

Congrats to the winners and may we see many, many more graphic novels in the years to come.