Hello, I blog!
I share all my sporadic and toilet thoughts in here, because I am random like that.
Two languages, but one understanding
I met an autistic boy today.
He was one of the helpers at the craft store I went to this afternoon. A cozy family business, that craft store was. I was really glad that the family business somehow allowed him to be part of the crew so that he gets to mingle with and meet new people.
The expression on his face when I approached him for help in the store was … hard to describe.
A mixture of joy and confusion perhaps. Joy towards how I approached him and spoke to him like a normal person, but confusion because he had no idea how to help me. His face was initially all aglow, before it was shrouded in bewilderment and he finally, gestured towards another lady to assist me.
Later on, he had taken to following me around the store.
I was looking for ribbons, and he lingered around in the nearby vicinity as I pored through the shelves and shelves of ribbon reels. It was clear that he could communicate, just that he didn’t know how. Occasionally, I’d pick up a roll of ribbon and go “hmm,” “too narrow”, “too wide” or “too expensive”, and I can hear all sorts of murmuring and squeaking noises coming from his general direction.
It was like we were having a conversation, only with both parties speaking in different languages … but still understood each other.
There was one point where I jokingly lamented about how the ribbons here were sold in reels and not per metre and he giggled along with me.
Later on, I reached for a tri-coloured (red, blue and white) ribbon reel and the murmurs and squeaks from the boy became louder. I looked up at him, and he pointed to the ribbon reel and gestured to his neck in a roundabout motion in response.
“Ah, this one is for medals!” says I.
And the boy began nodding wildly, squeaking and murmuring his approval.
The boy shadowed me around the store until I was ready to checkout. At that time, I stood patiently by the counter, waiting for one of the ladies in charge to finish whatever she was doing so that she could ring up my purchases.
The boy didn’t let me wait, though. He gestured/squeaked/murmured loudly for the attention of another storekeeper to come assist me and I was all ready to go in a matter of a couple of minutes.
I could have sworn that he said “bye” when I left the shop.
The deviant child
It’s not easy being the deviant child in a world full of norms and conventions, and expectations. You receive loads of frowns, disapproving looks, and remarks brimming with barely concealed skepticism.
Conformity is dead.
That fact that I:-
1. Refuse to put on a mask in a two-faced society, of which its notoriety strips people off who they are at heart and become someone else altogether; what society wants them to be and not what they want to be.
2. Choose to work in a dynamic start-up known for their instability and susceptibility (bearing in mind the cold hard fact that 9 out of 10 startups fail) because of rather than take the conventional route of looking for work in a Big 5 Company or an MNC.
3. Choose to chase my own dreams and do what I want to do despite its risks. Rather than “making practical choices” or going with “what works and is more likely to succeed”.
4. Am an asexual being in an Asian society where coupledom, marriage and starting a family is much encouraged (or even expected), and being surrounded by friends who all have partners themselves.
5. Am the only tomboy in an extended family full of pretty faces – both sides of the family, material and paternal. All my like-gendered cousins are drop dead good-looking. No doubt. And very feminine. Whereas I choose to prance around in tees, jeans, caps and sneakers.
(Until today, I’m pretty sure the aunts and uncles think something, somewhere has gone horribly wrong. We all know the older generation – any form of deviant behaviour is a defect to them.)
6. Refuse to betray in the face of an increasingly vindictive society. In a world where politics and boot-licking are rife, I choose to play fair by competing based on ability and skill.
7. Defy authority. Not to the point of breaking the law. But basically, challenging conventional, old-fashioned behaviour, or rules meant to ‘put you in your place’ or to ‘ensure conformity’.
8. Am an Atheist in an extended family of Christians and Catholics.
– makes me deviant on almost all possible angles.
(Note: Not all mentioned conventions, per se. Some of which are increasingly common behaviour in which new players are “expected” to take on, otherwise “they’d be at a disadvantage”, so to speak.)
The fact that I am deviant and (usually) unable to hold my own in a verbal dispute makes me particularly vulnerable. My mind may be rife with my own thought-processes, which I am unable to properly articulate because emotions take over very quickly. I stutter like hell.
This means that I’d better grow a solid pair of balls. Fast. Before I lose my ground against someone who comes along and stares me down like I’m some freak of nature.
I am beyond proud, and happy to be who I am, and where I am now, and I do not want to lose that.
What are your deviant traits and how do you stand your ground against your sceptics?
Love-hate relationship with the ‘Type A’ me
On many counts, I am exceptionally pleased that I have a Type A personality.
People with Type A personalities are known to be go-getters, and are seriously driven for success. Unfortunately, they can also come across as being highly-competitive – although it is an apparent necessity in today’s fast-paced world. They have extremely high tolerances for stress and pressure, which puts them one leg up above the rest because they are able to press on much longer.
But, it is also no secret that Type A people can end up being highly unhappy people (since they are very rarely satisfied). Plus, although it may seem at first that Type A people are pretty invincible against crumbling under stress and pressure – when they eventually do give in, they fall. Very hard.
The first time I discovered I have a Type A personality was way back in 2005. However, I did another online quiz out of curiosity and that seems to have changed.
Type A Personality test – my results.
Now, I am somewhere in the middle – or so the above quiz says. But I do see many signs of the Type A personality I’ve mentioned so much about manifesting like whoa on a day to day basis, particularly the past three weeks.
Most dominant is my attitude towards work. I set expectations on what I want to accomplish and complete by the end of each day, and I do everything within my means to meet those expectations, or even exceed them if possible. Assuming that I sought to complete tasks A, B and C by the end of the day, completing what I had set out to do puts my mind at ease – although I am largely indifferent or just a little bit happy. Doing all that, including tasks D and E will give me inexplicable pleasure.
But.
If I complete only tasks A and B and miss out C, I torture myself mentally. Not consciously, though – it happens without me realizing it. But seriously, dude – when I bash myself up mentally, I really mean a good, solid mental bashing.
It doesn’t help that I also have generally high expectations about myself on top of work. So, if I happen to miss the mark on any particular day, hoo boy! It doesn’t matter about environmental factors, or if anything major had happened in recent days that caused me to miss the mark. If I miss the mark, I miss the mark. (And generally, I pretty much pride myself in being able to get things done despite it all.)
Recently, I am falling short of my own expectations way too much. I have leftover tasks at the end of quite a number of days which accumulates, leaving my to-do list seemingly never-ending. I admit, loads of stuff have been happening lately (mostly health-related), but I don’t like to use it as a reason and pretty much chucked it out of the window as an excuse.
As a result, I’ve been mentally bashing myself up like crazy. Feeling as if I’m letting other people down only forms part of the reason. The most part is because I disappointed myself.
It’s damn bloody unhealthy, I know. But it’s difficult to stop.
My mind has been trained to think this way for the longest time, and old habits die hard.
It is amazing how I allow me to feel so bad about myself even without even receiving a telling-to. (And I know at this point, most of my closest friends who are reading this will be nodding their heads in agreement.)
If the above sounds seriously wacko to you and you are a Type-A personality, then I must say something is seriously wrong (with me, that is). If you have ways on preventing your Type-A alter-ego from taking you over, please share … because I think I seriously need it at the moment!
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