My shoulder is making rustling noises

I was in a car accident in February of 2009 that's left me with some lasting whiplash injuries.

Anyway, today, the latest attempt at treating the injuries had me in hospital, while a surgeon attempted to take care of some bits of calcification I've got going on in my supraspinatus muscle. I'll admit it... I wasn't happy while I was waiting for the treatment.

The surgeon used an ultrasound machine to check out the area first. He looked all over my shoulder, watched it on a screen, took some pictures and finally made a mark on my shoulder. Then he rubbed in some anaesthetising gel then gave me an injection to numb the area up even further. And then the part that I was most scared of - he went in with another needle and "stabbed" the calcium deposits with it. I was definitely pretty well numbed up, because apart from a couple of bits of referred pain, I felt nothing at all. There were some definite muscular twinges further down my arm and one was sharp enough that I couldn't help wincing and gasping at the shock of it. Apart from that, though, there was nothing at all at the source. In fact, if I couldn't see the screen out of the corner of my eye, then I wouldn't have known the needle was in at all. But I could see the straight line repeatedly stabbing at the deposits.

Since then, the anaesthetic has been wearing off gradually and I've felt the pain building. So far it's nothing I can't deal with, but there's a numb sensation spreading right up into the right side of my neck and even seems to be spreading out along the occipital ridge at the back of my head. So far, it's been more interesting than anything else, to chart the progress of these sensations.

The most interesting thing of all has been this distinct rustling noise. When I first heard it, I thought it sounded faintly like a paper bag and I wondered whether there was something in the cloth of my t-shirt making the noise. So I took the shirt off and flexed my shoulder, but the rustling noise was still there. So it's definitely coming from what the surgeon did to my shoulder this afternoon.

I'm not looking forward to the following weeks, because I've been promised a lot of pain and discomfort. But if it takes care of this whiplash, then some short-term misery will be worth it.

I did a test...

It's a funny test. It asked me six questions... just six... and then told me what kind of monster I was. And it was mostly spot on. Apart from the bit about playing well with zombies - I kill those things.

(A sidenote.  One of the things I've often struggled with is the consistent assertion that people on the autistic spectrum lack empathy.  It's been a major stumbling block for me.  I define "empathy" as being like a level of sympathy with other people.  So I defined lack of empathy as simply not caring about other people - that's always seemed cold and callous.  And I resented the implication that I could be that way.  In this context, however, it's more like a lack of understanding and that seems much more accurate.  Funny how a breakthrough in comprehension can come via something so trivial as this little personality test.)

You are an alien
You're so strange, people occasionally wonder if you're from another world.  You don't try to be different, but you see most things from a very unique, very offbeat perspective.  Brilliant to the point of genius, you definitely have some advanced intelligence going on.  No matter what circles you travel in, you always feel like a stranger. And it's a feeling you've learned to like.

Your greatest power:
Your superhuman brain.

Your greatest weakness:
Your lack of empathy - you just don't get humans.

You play well with:
Zombies.

If you want to do the test too, then go to http://www.blogthings.com/whatkindofmonsterareyouquiz/

Feedback

I got some feedback from a different site: This is in response to How not to be a stalker


You don't need "friends" like that in your life, Poet!!!

As an outsider, looking in on your story, you came into to her life at a time when she was vulnerable, needy and wanting someone to talk to. As long as you were there to listen and support her, everything was fine. When the ex came back into her life, she didn't 'need' you anymore, and didn't even care enough about you to let call you or email you and tell you herself. When you actually needed someone to talk to, she didn't even want to listen, because your "friendship" was all about her in the first place. You were doing all the giving. She sounds very narcissistic.

When you tried to reconnect with her, which was admirable, I understand, as you might have needed to get that apology off your chest, she was ok with it as long as you didn't cause any disruption in her life. But when you talked about true friendship, it rock the boat. Whether she feels guilty for treating you badly, because she did, I hope you know that... Or, maybe she just doesn't want a reminder of that part of her life, doesn't really matter, Poet.

You cleaned up your side of the street, as they say. You apologized for something you felt you did wrong to her, tried to be friends again. You can't change other people, only what you do. I just hope you really know and understand that you are the winner here. You don't need someone like her in your life, an emotional vampire.

I am so grateful for the friendship that we have developed. And I believe I CAN use the word "friend" regarding us... You have such a sensitive, caring soul, Poet!

Sorry if my momma bear instincts came out, but it makes me angry that someone treated you like this. See, I don't really think what you did was really stalking, as she left you no choice. You were worried... oh, I won't go on...

needless to say, I'd like to kick her ass for you!!! Oh, hey, why don't we throw her to the zombies, hee hee hee

love you, Poet!

And my response...

It was a very complex situation. We were friends long before she became pregnant and up until then it was a bit volatile - and her reaction to adverse situations was to run away from them. My response to that was to give chase. Until the pregnancy, she was pretty normal, but our connection was based on lies. I believe (although I can't prove) that she was married throughout and that S simply wasn't around. And I believe that he got her knocked up and moved back in with her. And I believe that was what started all the melodrama.

I attempted to reconnect with her so I could get some resolution. And I thought that was going to happen. I also thought - at the absolute least - that if we decided that we were going to decide that we couldn't be friends again, then we would do so amicably. But she clearly decided that the amicable resolution wasn't a desirable one. I think the only way she can close off something like that is with spite.

And that is why I now consider her to be absolutely toxic. Because she doesn't just abuse trust... her level of spite goes way beyond that. I still believe that she wants to be a good person and a good friend - I still remember that part of her - but I know that she's too angry and too filled with bitterness to do so.

Social anxieties

I have absolutely no doubt that there is one aspect of AS that stands out above everything else as being tough to deal with.

I mean... there are good points and bad points to the condition. But this one point actually eclipses everything else. It damages existing relationships and prevents new ones from forming in the first place. It can be almost intolerable when it's at its worst excesses. And it never stops being a nagging doubt, even when it's at its mildest.

I am high functioning. This means that I come across as "normal" most of the time, although people generally perceive me to be "a bit weird". Some people see the creativity and the flexibility in the weirdness and they like it, while others just become wary and back off. Either way - because I'm clearly functioning well and because I'm clearly intelligent, they don't make allowances for the fact that there's a condition that makes regular things to be a bit challenging. And it's social interaction that I find to be MOST challenging.

So... that's where this element comes in... this bit that eclipses everything else. I don't know what constitutes normal behaviour a lot of the time. If I'm with a bunch of friends, I don't know if I'm overstaying my welcome, so I tend to leave the group early to avoid making that mistake. And then, to avoid being too much of a pest, I don't get in touch with them until I'm invited to rejoin the group or attend some other social event. And they don't know I have these doubts, so they might believe the invitation is implicit, so it never comes. It's been suggested that I let them know of my concerns, but that doesn't work either - because then I'm soliciting an invitation and that's even worse. After all, then I start worrying that I've only been invited because I made it uncomfortable and difficult for them to exclude me.

This can actually be socially crippling.

So I tend to put forward a strong persona. One that I can hide behind. It's not a lie - it's an extension of my genuine personality and although details may be exaggerated, there's nothing made up. It's more like the sensitivities and the subtleties are played down a bit. I think this is so that I can convince myself that any rejection - whether perceived or otherwise - isn't really that important and doesn't really matter all that much.

I try not to let people get too close. I try not to let them get past my defences. I try to keep them at arm's length. And then, occasionally, someone does get close and I love it. I let them in, wholeheartedly and without reservation. I become enamoured and fascinated and want to spend as much time as possible with that person. I want to find out everything and exchange all my fantasies and discover all the common ground and share our plans and find out if it's possible to bring those plans together.

And then, inevitably, the self-doubt creeps in. Am I being a pest? Am I getting too much in the person's face? Should I back off a bit and let that person have some space? Am I just being too full-on? Am I imposing myself too much and just getting to be a little bit creepy?

The recurring issue - and the one I have most trouble with - is striking a balance between being too full-on (and therefore generally wearing people down) or too distant (and therefore alienating them). This can translate to all sorts of comparisons. It's like being needy versus being aloof. Or, when hanging around at a friend's house, it's like outstaying my welcome versus leaving too early when there's still plenty fun to be had. Spotting the differences and identifying the moderate approach can be very difficult.

I see my nephew having similar problems. Not because he's AS, but because he's a teenager - but the comparison is there. I have to point out to him when he's taking a joke too far, for example. Just because something starts out funny, doesn't mean it's still funny ten minutes later. And I always hope that people are prepared to let me know when I've gone too far with something, too.

Everything's going to be fine. I know that. I'm aware that I have AS and that has a tendency to bring on repetitive thinking patterns - which can lead on to obsessive thinking patterns - which can lead on to a tendency to absolutely scrutinise things and become paranoid as a result. I just need to get self-doubts under control and keep some confidence in what I have. I live with the condition. It doesn't have to rule me.

How not to be a stalker

I don't want to go giving out actual names this time, because there are privacy issues, but I'll use initial letters of names instead.

I met E online in the late '90s and she became a very good friend. We really seemed to care for each other a lot. We had long 'phone calls some nights, although these were rare because neither of us could afford the bills.

She got pregnant in (she said) a one-night-stand. I tried to be supportive throughout the pregnancy, because she said she was on her own and she really seemed to rely on what little moral support could be provided by a 'phone line and an internet connection. She would sometimes call me up in the middle of the night - this being a pre-arranged message. If the 'phone rang and then rung off, I would go to the internet and talk to her. It was a message like that, that let me talk to her on the night her dad died.

I started to work on raising some money to get a plane ticket to fly out there, because I really wanted to be there in time for the birth and to meet my friend for the first time. I had just about managed to raise the cash and was just a day away from booking the flight, when I got an email from her. It was bitter and angry. It listed all my faults - every last one of them - and threw in a few extra just to make sure all the ground had been covered. I was actually pretty shocked. In fact, I reacted with a typical AS manner and sort of shut down a bit. I sat in the middle of my room for a few hours while it got darker and darker and didn't move for a long, long time.

Later, I got very concerned about her and the baby, so I tried calling her. A man answered, told me not to call her again and hung up on me. A fresh shock. I tried to email her because I was very concerned about the identity of this man. It was him who answered my email and he essentially gave me the very same message to back off. And now, suddenly, the only two avenues of communication between my friend and I were closed to me - they'd been infiltrated by this strange man. Who was he?

I fretted about this for days and couldn't settle down. Eventually, I resorted to subterfuge and stalker tactics. I got a female friend to call her. This friend pretended to be another friend to the both E and I - one who was deaf and clearly couldn't make a 'phone call. She got the man, spoke to him for a couple of minutes and then told me she could hear E and a baby in the background. So... OK... I accepted I was going to get no more contact and no more information. Unless E responded to the fact that it was clearly me who was behind the call.

Which she duly did. For the first time in a fortnight, I got an email from E. It was very angry. She told me she wasn't stupid and she knew it was me who had been behind the 'phone call. She asked how I could have hoped to get away with such a stupid trick. She said I should never have gone snooping for information on her in such a devious way and she told me she felt violated by my actions. And she told me that if I had just been patient, she would have got in touch with me when she was ready.

Since I had read the email as soon as it had been sent, I wrote back right away. I said I hadn't expected to get away with what I had done. The use of our friend's name had been a sort of message to her. I told her about the man's messages to me. I explained how this meant that I had no other way of getting in touch with her. And I told her how this meant that I had no guarantee - given her last message to me - that I was ever going to hear from her again. I explained that I had become concerned for her safety. And I said that I would never have done this if I had not cared for so much for my friend.

Yeah, I know - classic stalker justification. I'm cringing even as I write it.

Anyway, she sort of softened after that. She identified the man as S - an ex-boyfriend who had returned to help her out. He had apparently been over-protective. (Actually, I had heard about him before - he had also been abusive.) We started talking again. However, it just wasn't the same any more. There was animosity and bitterness now, where there had once been comfort and closeness. And the animosity wasn't coming from her - it was coming from me. It took me a while to recognise it for what it was, but eventually I realised I just didn't trust her any more. I felt like she'd gutted me and I knew that if she'd done it once, then she might well do it again. Also... even worse... I felt that her actions hadn't been those of a proper friend and now there was resentment there as well.

(When I attended some classes on AS last year, we were told that people on the spectrum often have rigid definitions of what constitutes a friend. Break the code and that person can never be a friend again. For some people, the rules are more rigid than others, but it always seems to be there. Now, I didn't know I had Asperger's when I knew E, so I wasn't aware of any of this. But when I learned all that stuff, it was her that I was thinking about and I knew that our friendship hit the profile that was being described in this class.)

There were clues that I just wasn't picking up on at the time. At one point, E and I seemed to be getting on again and were having a 'phone conversation, but she got disconnected. I tried calling her back, but S answered. He told me that if I ever called his house again "at this time of night", then he was going to send some leg breakers to my house. He knew where I lived and he had friends in Ireland who would be only too happy to help out. I liked this man even less than ever, but kept calm. I said "OK", I waited until he had finished talking and then when he was satisfied he had delivered his message, we hung up. In hindsight, I suspect that S hadn't known I was still talking to E and had returned home in the middle of our conversation. She had hung up, I had called back and he had answered; under the impression that I had just spontaneously called up.

Round about this time, my little sister was dealing with some stuff. Bad stuff. She came out of the closet to me, then to the rest of the family. That was cool. But then she started talking about other stuff and then she had a suicide attempt. Now, it's unusual for me to feel the need to look for any support, but perhaps I was feeling a bit off-balance in general at this point, because I tried to talk about it during one memorable conversation with E. She told me I was depressing her and asked me to change the subject. This was so breathtakingly heartless that I was astonished. I no longer recognised this person.

We limped painfully along a little longer, but then one day she just stopped writing. I wrote more emails, but they were ignored. I left a couple of messages on her answering machine, but they were ignored. Weeks and - I'm not exaggerating - months passed. Nothing. My attempts at contact started to dwindle, but I wasn't able to rest. I felt sick. One night, I did the most monumentally stupid thing.

I got the number of a local police station and asked them to go to her house and see if she was OK. They did and when I called them again a few hours later and got a very cold response. The gist of what I was told... E and S were happy with each other, but I was a malevolent little presence in the background who was not accepting that I had no place there. E had been asked if she wanted to press charges against me, but had declined.

And that was it. Until...

In a postscript to the story, last year - seven years on from then - I thought I would try to mend some bridges and I sent an email to E in the hopes that we could talk again. And, in fact, it actually seemed to be going well for a while. We had a couple of differences of opinion about a couple of issues and she called me a hypocrite at one point. But on the whole, we were polite and civil with each other. She claimed to feel guilty about her previous actions and she told me there had been times when she really had felt like she could have used my emotional support during certain events. I told her I felt bad about being such a stalker, but... to be honest... I felt like I had no other choice. I couldn't never have simply let it all go without knowing if she was safe or not. Sending the police to her home had been a desperate attempt to find out if she was OK.

I started to hope that I might actually get my friend back. We were talking and that was a start. We were ironing out our differences and if I had to compromise and accept that she thought I was a hypocrite, then fine... I could do that. We spoke about the point where I tried to talk about my little sister and she told me that she was in a seriously black mood at that point and had been contemplating suicide, so my own crisis had been ill-timed. I realised that things had been bad for her, but I didn't realise that they were that bad.

(On a side note - people with AS are often said to have no sense of empathy. This is not true. My empathic skills are almost cripplingly high, sometimes, so I have to actually try to disconnect myself from them in order to protect myself. So... a disconnected empathy versus none at all... sounds like pretty much the same thing, I suppose. And I'm not really sure what the difference is. What I don't have, though, is much of a sense of sensitivity. So if I appear to be oblivious to another person's suffering, it's because I often am oblivious. This, however, is not the same as empathy.)

I was disappointed, but not surprised, to learn that she was still married to and living with S.  I remembered something she had told me about him - something that some people would consider to be strong enough grounds to end a relationship, press assault charges and impose a restraining order.  And I reminded her about it.  "Didn't he try to strangle you once?" I asked.  "Yes, but he stopped when I kicked him in the balls," she said.  So that's all right, then.

I've got to point out that on the whole, she seemed well-balanced, intelligent and articulate.  This posting in general - and that last paragraph in particular - make her sound like a very different person.  I saw the occasional moment of spite in her, while we were still friends, but that was fairly rare when things were going well.  When they started to deteriorate, however, they became much more frequent.  But I always remembered the intelligent, funny, clever person that I had become friends with and that was the person I really wanted to talk to again.

We spoke, after a while, about friends. This came about as part of an ongoing conversation running through a few emails about how we were being very polite with each other, but that was about it. And I think this is where I made my big mistake. I gave her my proper definition of "friendship".

As far as I'm concerned, there are people I know that I like. But I don't generally use the word "friend" in reference to them. I'm more comfortable using words like mates, or buddies, or pals. Or if I do use the word friend casually, I'll preface it with another word. As in "internet friends". More relaxed and comfortable terms. If I call someone a friend, however, that's a more serious term. One that's been earned in some vaguely defined way. It's hard to become my friend and easy to stop being one. "Friend" is not a casual word for me - it comes loaded with lots of other assumptions.

I said all this in the spirit of being open, being honest and not being a hypocrite. I told her that there was a time I considered us to be friends. I said we weren't friends any more... not right at this moment. And I said that unless we could progress beyond these occasional emails and actually talk on the 'phone again, or on Skype... unless we could actually laugh together again and be comfortable again... unless all of that, then we weren't going to be friends again in the true sense.

I got an email from her very shortly after that. It was in October of last year and it was just one line that I can quote verbatim from memory. She said "Do not email me again."

And that's the last I heard from her.

Parties... and cold exteriors

I'm very skinny - although I generally prefer to use the word "athletic" because it sounds better. I'm also very tall, so I look even skinnier. And I know that I'm underweight for my height. In fact, my weight and my waist size haven't changed since I was about thirteen.

I don't think I'm bad for it, though. I'm not scrawny, exactly. I'm rangy. And I have good abs. I was at a party a couple of nights ago and a friend stepped up behind me and - in a playfully camp gesture - put his arms round me. He's a funny guy. Then he sort of exclaimed in surprise and commented on how "tight" my abs were. I nodded modestly, slapped my stomach and agreed.

I don't deserve this build. I didn't do a lot of exercise before my car accident and I do even less, now. I do a lot of walking, though. I mean a LOT of walking. But I don't run or jog or lift weights. I have a very fast metabolism and I think that's what's responsible for my build.

Anyway, I was at a different party one time and a girl - a junkie - cornered me and started talking about how skinny I was. It started out slightly irritating, but quickly degenerated into actually being offensive. She told me - over and over again - about how she knew all about eating disorders and it was clear that she was making a specific point. When I didn't acknowledge it, she finally openly told me that I was clearly anorexic.

I'd ignored all her hints, but protested when it was a direct challenge. My protests were brushed aside, though; she simply started challenging me to tell her exactly what I'd eaten that day and the day before. I was actually being interrogated about my eating habits by this girl who barely even had the intellectual capacity required to carry on the conversation.

I had no intention of justifying myself to her. Answering one question merely led to that answer being scrutinised for flaws and then a fresh question being presented. So after a while, I started refusing to answer. But she interpreted my frustration as being evasive.

Another complication was that I couldn't actually remember what I'd eaten lately. Ask me anything like that and I will have to pause for a couple of minutes to think back. This is one of the ways in which AS affects me. My memory is exceptionally unreliable. At that time, though, I didn't know I had AS, so couldn't give an adequate reason for my faulty memory - and so this girl just assumed I was making things up.

All attempts extricate myself from this interrogation - and it WAS an interrogation - just had her pressing her point further. I started off polite, then let my irritation show, then became downright rude - and still she wouldn't let it go. Finally, she returned to the question of what I'd eaten the day before and actually demanded answers. She said I needed help and she was determined to make me face up to that. This fucking junkie was getting in my face and telling me I had problems.

By now, I was getting angry enough that other people in the room were becoming aware of the conversation. My friend started making jokes at my expense, while the host looked at me and told me to "fucking chill out". I was ready to leave - to actually storm out of the party - but I had promised my friend I would see her home and she clearly had no intention of leaving. So now I was mad at her and at the host as well as the haggard little troll who had cornered me.

The bitch finally decided that maybe she'd pressed me too hard and tried to shake my hand. Now, it'll take a lot to get me to be so blatantly full-on rude as this, but I publicly and openly rejected her peace offer - there was no way I was going to shake her hand. But her whining, nasal Ned tone wheedled away at me while a couple of people started talking about how childish I was being - despite having missed the entirety of her conversation until then - and eventually I buckled and accepted her clammy handshake with poor grace.

And almost immediately she started explaining - in true Ned style - exactly why she had come to that anorexia conclusion in the first place. And since the attention of the room had drifted away from us in that moment, I suddenly had her full and undivided attention once more. And within about five minutes, I realised I was still having to justify my physique to her.

I can't stand to be cornered. I can't stand to be interrogated. Nobody enjoys these moments, but I was actually seething in rage by this point and eventually I just withdrew. I stopped answering, I stopped responding and I just became very still. She spoke, she wheedled, she questioned, she whined and she protested. But I was simply no longer part of the conversation.

My friend has told me that I'm very aloof and condescending, sometimes. She says it doesn't take much for me to become absolutely inscrutable. I present a blank face - a sort of glacial exterior that really intimidates people. Sometimes - like at this party - it's intentional. A form of defence. But apparently I do it at other times, too. When people irritate me, the eyes go cold and the jaw sets and I actually become like a different person.

To be honest, I'm pretty sure my friend exaggerates this. She has occasionally had her own agenda when she's felt the need to point out my flaws, so I'm not sure how reliable her opinion is. I have, however, seen people flinch on occasion when they've said the wrong thing and then spotted my response. It's rare... but it does happen.

I might need to return to this post and edit it, later... I'm not sure how much sense I'm making.