my experience of autism 1 - the gig
The gig
There’s a gig you want to go to, but you haven’t been to the venue before. So unless a friend asks you along you probably won’t go.
If a friend asks you by phone or text, or in person, and if they’re concrete about it, then might well go. And if you arrange to meet up beforehand, even better.
But that’s as good as it gets. If your friend invites you through Facebook, especially if it’s just an event invite rather than a message, then there’s a good chance you won’t go.
Very occasionally if you want to go really badly but haven’t been invited then maybe you might ask friends. It all depends on how strong you’re feeling. If you’ve seen a lot of your friends recently you might confident enough to ask. Otherwise a mass of concrete and intangible factors will start jabbering away in your head, making it increasingly unlikely you’ll ask, or even get to the gig on your own.
The concrete factors might include how difficult the venue is to get to, what the weather’s forecast to be like. The intangible factors are more along the lines of whether you think your friends are likely to have better things to do that day.
Sometimes you can overcome this clamour of doubts, but often you’ll agonise until it’s too late. And then you’ll feel shit you didn’t get to the gig.
You might get to the gig on your own. If you’re really desperate to get there you might manage to take yourself there. If you think the venue might be large enough that you’ll pass unnoticed you might get there. Depending on how you feel, if you’re sure friends will be there you might go to the gig. Or in another mood that might make it worse. If you’re fighting hard to motivate yourself to get out to gigs and the like you might go.
Note that you’re going to be more comfortable with friends than with people you only vaguely know. In fact the latter can be more intimidating than strangers. Which makes parties with friends very difficult, for example. The mix is likely to be a handful of friends, a small number of strangers, and a lot of people you’re only dimly acquainted with.
This is one part of my experience of autism in social situations.
It’s entirely possible to fully intend to go to an gig, buy myself a ticket, and then not be able to go. It’s happened a few times, though less in recent years.
I wrote specifically about gigs. Other seemingly similar situations are very different.
Going to a club is a much harder challenge, especially when I’m not self-medicating with ecstasy, which I haven’t in the last three years. A club feels like a much more socially participative space – it’s about the people you’re with more than the music (though that’s also incredibly important). It feels much more exposed and weird to be in a club dancing on your own than with friends.
On the other hand theatre or cinema are generally easier. In certain circumstances - if I’m going for a meal, or to sit and write quietly - then a pub can be simple.
All of this is pretty exhausting. What’s especially difficult is that I want to see friends, I want to go out and enjoy myself, but there’s a lot of anxiety and preparation involved.
Hanging out
Let’s talk about asking friends to a gig. How would I go about it? Well, in the last four years, after a period of depression and the experience of friends and people I knew socially appearing to drift away, I’ve largely stopped bothering.
12 to 18 months of asking people along and forcing myself out to exhibition openings, gigs, clubs and other events and seeing no one there and consequently feeling awkward and out-of-place just made me not want to try anymore.
I still go out, but I usually don’t ask anyone, and if I do I don’t expect them to come. And when I do ask it’s usually by text, or a message through Facebook or other social media.
I won’t phone. The phone, much like face-to-face contact, is a tricky, uncontrolled social situation. I don’t feel like I have anything to say, I don’t know how to engage in social small talk, so it’s easier not to phone.
I won’t ask in person. Mainly because I’m very rarely in social situations where I might get to ask, and I just don’t ever drop round friend’s homes, as much as I’d like to.
If I were to phone I’d have to prepare. That means getting all the information about the gig together, it means rehearsing possibilities for the conversation, it means reminding myself to ask questions of the friend I’m calling. All these normal conversational things have to be planned.
That’s just for someone I know and am pretty with. Where I know someone less well it takes days (at least) of psyching myself up to be able to make the call. And the call will be extremely stressful.
Again, pretty exhausting.
In a less acute form a similar situation applies to communicating with colleagues and customers at work, to going into shops, to taking public transport, to going to the swimming baths, to participating in marches and political demonstrations, to going to college/university, to family and friends’ weddings and christenings and the like. Any situation involving other people, even walking down the street, can induce anxiety.
Now imagine that on top of all that you have difficulty reading expressions, body language, and tone of voice. You miss social cues – you’re either unaware of them or unable to act on them. You have no idea what your face and body language are doing, although you’ve been told they’re often defensive or self-contained and closed off.
That’s not because you don’t want to engage, but because years of trying to blend in or become invisible at school have made it a habit. Actually you’d love to engage, but the chances of going up to someone and starting a conversation are extremely remote. Almost non-existent. Besides, who’d want to talk to you anyway? But because you’re not talking to anyone you feel conspicuous, uncomfortable and out-of-place.
That’s my life most of the time. It’s stressful and it’s tiring and it’s emotionally draining.
The purpose of this snapshot is to try and summarise a range of complex, intense, and sometimes contradictory experiences through an example that might be familiar. To help illuminate why I asked my GP to refer me for an autism diagnosis.
I now have that diagnosis, and over a series of blogposts I want to look at my experiences, at the process of getting diagnosed, and at what might happen next. I hope they’ll be helpful.
There’s a gig you want to go to, but you haven’t been to the venue before. So unless a friend asks you along you probably won’t go.
If a friend asks you by phone or text, or in person, and if they’re concrete about it, then might well go. And if you arrange to meet up beforehand, even better.
But that’s as good as it gets. If your friend invites you through Facebook, especially if it’s just an event invite rather than a message, then there’s a good chance you won’t go.
Very occasionally if you want to go really badly but haven’t been invited then maybe you might ask friends. It all depends on how strong you’re feeling. If you’ve seen a lot of your friends recently you might confident enough to ask. Otherwise a mass of concrete and intangible factors will start jabbering away in your head, making it increasingly unlikely you’ll ask, or even get to the gig on your own.
The concrete factors might include how difficult the venue is to get to, what the weather’s forecast to be like. The intangible factors are more along the lines of whether you think your friends are likely to have better things to do that day.
Sometimes you can overcome this clamour of doubts, but often you’ll agonise until it’s too late. And then you’ll feel shit you didn’t get to the gig.
You might get to the gig on your own. If you’re really desperate to get there you might manage to take yourself there. If you think the venue might be large enough that you’ll pass unnoticed you might get there. Depending on how you feel, if you’re sure friends will be there you might go to the gig. Or in another mood that might make it worse. If you’re fighting hard to motivate yourself to get out to gigs and the like you might go.
Note that you’re going to be more comfortable with friends than with people you only vaguely know. In fact the latter can be more intimidating than strangers. Which makes parties with friends very difficult, for example. The mix is likely to be a handful of friends, a small number of strangers, and a lot of people you’re only dimly acquainted with.
This is one part of my experience of autism in social situations.
It’s entirely possible to fully intend to go to an gig, buy myself a ticket, and then not be able to go. It’s happened a few times, though less in recent years.
I wrote specifically about gigs. Other seemingly similar situations are very different.
Going to a club is a much harder challenge, especially when I’m not self-medicating with ecstasy, which I haven’t in the last three years. A club feels like a much more socially participative space – it’s about the people you’re with more than the music (though that’s also incredibly important). It feels much more exposed and weird to be in a club dancing on your own than with friends.
On the other hand theatre or cinema are generally easier. In certain circumstances - if I’m going for a meal, or to sit and write quietly - then a pub can be simple.
All of this is pretty exhausting. What’s especially difficult is that I want to see friends, I want to go out and enjoy myself, but there’s a lot of anxiety and preparation involved.
Hanging out
Let’s talk about asking friends to a gig. How would I go about it? Well, in the last four years, after a period of depression and the experience of friends and people I knew socially appearing to drift away, I’ve largely stopped bothering.
12 to 18 months of asking people along and forcing myself out to exhibition openings, gigs, clubs and other events and seeing no one there and consequently feeling awkward and out-of-place just made me not want to try anymore.
I still go out, but I usually don’t ask anyone, and if I do I don’t expect them to come. And when I do ask it’s usually by text, or a message through Facebook or other social media.
I won’t phone. The phone, much like face-to-face contact, is a tricky, uncontrolled social situation. I don’t feel like I have anything to say, I don’t know how to engage in social small talk, so it’s easier not to phone.
I won’t ask in person. Mainly because I’m very rarely in social situations where I might get to ask, and I just don’t ever drop round friend’s homes, as much as I’d like to.
If I were to phone I’d have to prepare. That means getting all the information about the gig together, it means rehearsing possibilities for the conversation, it means reminding myself to ask questions of the friend I’m calling. All these normal conversational things have to be planned.
That’s just for someone I know and am pretty with. Where I know someone less well it takes days (at least) of psyching myself up to be able to make the call. And the call will be extremely stressful.
Again, pretty exhausting.
In a less acute form a similar situation applies to communicating with colleagues and customers at work, to going into shops, to taking public transport, to going to the swimming baths, to participating in marches and political demonstrations, to going to college/university, to family and friends’ weddings and christenings and the like. Any situation involving other people, even walking down the street, can induce anxiety.
Now imagine that on top of all that you have difficulty reading expressions, body language, and tone of voice. You miss social cues – you’re either unaware of them or unable to act on them. You have no idea what your face and body language are doing, although you’ve been told they’re often defensive or self-contained and closed off.
That’s not because you don’t want to engage, but because years of trying to blend in or become invisible at school have made it a habit. Actually you’d love to engage, but the chances of going up to someone and starting a conversation are extremely remote. Almost non-existent. Besides, who’d want to talk to you anyway? But because you’re not talking to anyone you feel conspicuous, uncomfortable and out-of-place.
That’s my life most of the time. It’s stressful and it’s tiring and it’s emotionally draining.
The purpose of this snapshot is to try and summarise a range of complex, intense, and sometimes contradictory experiences through an example that might be familiar. To help illuminate why I asked my GP to refer me for an autism diagnosis.
I now have that diagnosis, and over a series of blogposts I want to look at my experiences, at the process of getting diagnosed, and at what might happen next. I hope they’ll be helpful.
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