Autism Spectrum Disorder, for my son, is like the world and everything in it is amplified. Everything is intensified. Big and beautiful. Loud and overwhelming. Irrelevant and out of focus or keenly attuned like the microscope in search of scientific discovery. The smallest bit of ear wax feels like a mountain to my son. It obscures and overtakes every sense, experience and feeling. In the moment it is the only thing in his world. There is no way he can put that feeling aside. Picking. Poking. Obsessing obsessively.
Annoying younger brother is ever present in his attention. There is a slurry of negative words on the tip of his tongue at every moment. "Bio waste dump, bubbling rancid and corrosive." "Misery Maker." "Fun ruiner." What he wins in creativity he loses in constancy.
He told his younger brother, "I am a much better piano player even though we started at the exact same time." When I communicated that this was not kind, all my ASD son could respond with was this, "but Mom it's true." Kind or unkind was of no relevance because it was the truth.
This fall my 9-year-old ASD son has had an unrelenting cold. He has been congested since school began. This involves endless blowing and tinkering. The request, "Can you, please, stop farmer blowing?" became as common place as "hello." He was incapable of putting the congestion to the figurative back burner of his mind. For my son there are two basic modes in his mind. Front and center, consuming body and mind. And irrelevant, of no bearing on interest or person.
For four weeks my son blew his nose every waking moment and many of the sleeping ones too. I have never been so ready for a cold to blow over. The hope of his teacher was for, "tissue please." However, taking a tissue removes a bit of the immediacy and involuntary nature of his plight. How could he think of anything else when his senses were bombarded and heightened by one feeling. Boogers! They are fine tuned to sensitivity. And this sensitivity was accosted in every second of his existence. This cold was his full-time job.
How can my son learn patience and perspective? How can he learn to share his focus? How can he learn to hold his tongue when he is simply stating the obvious? At school he has been given the assignment of thinking bubbles and speaking bubbles. However, deciphering between the two can be very difficult. It is a matter of focus and priority.
The same focus that make boogers unbearable helps him to ascertain every bit of information from a documentary. To become an expert on Pokémon. To be confident in himself and all his logic. To like what he likes unapologetically. And to dislike what he dislikes equally unapologetic. It just is. And that is just fine. In fact, I find it incredibly interesting and refreshing. From a discriminating appreciation for cured meats and sauces to Legos old and new, he is resident expert on everything he finds interesting. His interests drive him as much as his boogers arrest him. It is his double-edged sword. The world is acute for both good and ill. The Legos are brighter and the boogers greener.
About Maran Whiting Hanley: As a writer life is my artist muse. I love to watch and apply. I believe a writer's job is to tell a story. To fit disparate and incongruent pieces into one great whole. I am an enthusiast of health and wellness. I am passionate about self-care, whole foods and movement. I love to travel. I am an artist. A collector. A lover of art. Above all I am human--by trial and error trying to learn how to live and love.