We all have our scars

Photography: G. Farquhar
Model: G. Farquhar
Digital editing: G. Farquhar

I started First Year at Powis Academy in Aberdeen, less than a year after my little brother died. At the time, I was suffering a great deal, but had no way of expressing it – instead I bottled it all up and just carried on with my life. I remember enduring an intense amount of stress and grief and I remember responding to this with a sort of numbness. It was an absolutely horrible time in my life and the only time that ever matched it in sheer intensity was a sequence of events that took place in 2009.

This report card came from my first year at Powis Academy (now known as St. Machar Academy). My mum gave it to me fairly recently, and I was intrigued to notice how the words “tries hard” (or variations of them) kept turning up. I’m described as being “slow” and “struggling”… and the overwhelming impression I get from this card is of a kid who’s essentially… a bit dim. Well-meaning perhaps, but simply not up to the tasks ahead.

At the time, nobody knew I had Asperger’s Syndrome. Everything might have gone very different for me if that had been the case. There was even a time, when boarding school was discussed. And also, for a kid who was desperate to escape from some very harsh realities – at home, at school and basically everywhere I turned – that was an amazing prospect. Also, I had only recently stopped reading Enid Blyton novels, so my impression of boarding school was definitely influenced by those stories. Ultimately, nothing came of the boarding school discussions. But if it had been known that I had Asperger’s Syndrome, that would have definitely tipped the scales in the other direction. So in that area at least, there’s a recognisable element in which my life would have been very different.

In the end, I persevered. Not through strength of will or of character or anything like that. But by enduring every day and week and month until things got better and until all the tragedies and traumas and ordeals were left behind. We all have our scars. Most of us recover from them.

And in 2009 with the car accident and the period of homelessness and the loss of purpose and the end of a career and the convalescence… and the sheer, mind-numbing tedium that was the inevitable result of having nothing to do after I’d grown accustomed to working a sixty hour week. I discovered PhotoShop. I discovered a talent in digital art. I found a new business to get involved in. I was diagnosed as having Asperger’s Syndrome. I found a new purpose – and it is absolutely vital to have some sort of purpose going on.

The car accident was devastating. But it was definitely a catalyst for a lot of other things to happen. They were difficult and stressful and traumatic. But I endured. And things got better.

Introverts versus autism

I posted this already, but it's very apt.  In fact, most of the points here apply to me so completely that it’s almost frightening. The key word here is "introvert", apparently - and I'm really not sure that one applies to me.  But all the traits described here, could just as easily be myths and facts about Asperger’s Syndrome.  And that definitely does apply to me.

Myth #1 – Introverts don’t like to talk.
This is not true. Introverts just don’t talk unless they have something to say. They hate small talk. Get an introvert talking about something they are interested in, and they won’t shut up for days.

• In my case:
• I genuinely can't stand the polite kind of conversation.  People talking to me just for the sake of it only tends to irritate me.  In fact, I've often put up literal and metaphorical barriers to prevent this sort of thing from happening.  I "hide" behind books or laptops, and adopt various strategies purely to discourage conversation a lot.

Myth #2 – Introverts are shy.
Shyness has nothing to do with being an Introvert. Introverts are not necessarily afraid of people. What they need is a reason to interact. They don’t interact for the sake of interacting. If you want to talk to an Introvert, just start talking. Don’t worry about being polite.

• In my case:
• It might seem like a contradiction to "Myth 1", but it definitely depends on the circumstances.  In the right company, or with the right conversation, I can be scintillating, sparkling, charming, friendly and incredibly modest.

Myth #3 – Introverts are rude.
Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.

• In my case:
• I've learned diplomacy over the years.  Not because I wanted to, but because it was a key skill I needed to work on.  I still believe that most diplomacy tends to involve "pretty lies" and I still often fail at it.  Sometimes I fail spectacularly.  But I've definitely become better at it.

Myth #4 – Introverts don’t like people.
On the contrary, Introverts intensely value the few friends they have. They can count their close friends on one hand. If you are lucky enough for an introvert to consider you a friend, you probably have a loyal ally for life. Once you have earned their respect as being a person of substance, you’re in.

• In my case:
• It's true that I don't have a huge amount of friends.  There are people I get on with and people that I enjoy hanging out with.  But there are currently only about three people I will fully and unreservedly consider to be my friends.  I am very protective of them and will tolerate things from them that I will find absolutely unacceptable in other people.  This is something that has developed over time.  Sometimes without me actually noticing.

Myth #5 – Introverts don’t like to go out in public.
Nonsense. Introverts just don’t like to go out in public FOR AS LONG. They also like to avoid the complications that are involved in public activities. They take in data and experiences very quickly, and as a result, don’t need to be there for long to “get it.” They’re ready to go home, recharge, and process it all. In fact, recharging is absolutely crucial for Introverts.

• In my case:
• This can be variable with me.  I can sometimes absorb a lot of information very quickly, but not always.  I used to joke that I spotted the things that other people missed, but missed the things that absolutely everybody else could see.  My friends wouldn't be able to work out how I made some connections, but once I pointed out my logic, they'd find it to be uncontestable.  I do like to go out.  But I need a reason to do so.  Without such a reason (or an excuse) I could literally stay at home for days.

Myth #6 – Introverts always want to be alone.
Introverts are perfectly comfortable with their own thoughts. They think a lot. They daydream. They like to have problems to work on, puzzles to solve. But they can also get incredibly lonely if they don’t have anyone to share their discoveries with. They crave an authentic and sincere connection with ONE PERSON at a time.

• In my case:
• I can be fairly sociable.  I do like parties.  But only if there's at least one other person there that I enjoy the company of and can talk to.  Someone I already know.  If I'm on my own and if I don't find a connection with anyone else pretty quickly, then I usually won't stay long.  Apart from that, though, I don't struggle too much with social situations.

Myth #7 – Introverts are weird.
Introverts are often individualists. They don’t follow the crowd. They’d prefer to be valued for their novel ways of living. They think for themselves and because of that, they often challenge the norm. They don’t make most decisions based on what is popular or trendy.

• In my case:
• I've been called weird for my entire life.  I didn't choose to be outlandish or to have different opinions and perspectives from the mainstream - this sort of thing just naturally occurs with me.  It got to the point where I'd call myself weird before other people had a chance to do so.  This became a sort of shield for myself and a warning for other people.  My cousin has the perfect way of introducing me to his friends.  He says "This is Graham.  He's probably going to piss you off."  It's an overstatement and isn't meant to be taken entirely serious, but it still serves as a bit of a warning.

Myth #8 – Introverts are aloof nerds.
Introverts are people who primarily look inward, paying close attention to their thoughts and emotions. It’s not that they are incapable of paying attention to what is going on around them, it’s just that their inner world is much more stimulating and rewarding to them.

• In my case:
• I've been called "arrogant" a lot.  I'm not entirely sure how warranted that is, but I generally accept it, these days and don't try to argue with my accusers.  Which tends to irritate them, which tends to amuse me, which probably proves their point.  But... since I'm choosing not to debate the accusation, the proof probably isn't really required, anyway.

Myth #9 – Introverts don’t know how to relax and have fun.
Introverts typically relax at home or in nature, not in busy public places. Introverts are not thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies. If there is too much talking and noise going on, they shut down. Their brains are too sensitive to the neurotransmitter called Dopamine. Introverts and Extroverts have different dominant neuro-pathways. Just look it up.

• In my case:
• A curious one.  I actually enjoy some adrenaline pursuits.  I don't like a lot of noise and can suffer from sensory overload at times, but if it's only one sense at a time that's being assaulted - depending on which one it is - I can generally cope pretty well.  I think I have most trouble with tactile elements, but some noises come a pretty close second - and those can actually be genuinely painful.  And I really don't like being crowded.

Myth #10 – Introverts can fix themselves and become Extroverts.
Introverts cannot “fix themselves” and deserve respect for their natural temperament and contributions to the human race. In fact, one study (Silverman, 1986) showed that the percentage of Introverts increases with IQ.

• In my case:
• I tried to "fix" myself when I was in my late teens and early twenties. I read a lot about body language and scrutinised the way other people interacted.  I made a strong attempt to emulate speech patterns and ways of behavioural.  I kept this up until those things stopped being affectations and became normal to me.  So they were learned, rather than natural.  But those are just symptoms - not the condition itself.  There is no possibility of "correcting" that.  And, like a lot of people who have something that the mainstream population would consider to be a defect or a disability... I would turn down any offer to "cure" me.  Unless - and this is pure fantasy - I was promised some kind of temporary cure.  Because it would be a fascinating experience, and an amazing insight to be able to think like a neurotypical person just for a little while.  Just so I could walk around inside one of those tiny little minds and find out what all the fuss was about.

Tactile issues and massage therapy

I studied massage therapy at James Watt College in Greenock for about 15 months, before quitting the course.  I've been to college three times before, and I've dropped out each time at around about the same point.  It's when there are too many changes to the course and I can't keep up with them, so I start dropping behind in some classes.  Then I skip those classes and fall further behind.  Then it gets to the point where I realise I won't catch up, so I quietly admit defeat and drop out.

I also had problems with the fact that while I wanted to learn Swedish massage and maybe aromatherapy, I wasn't really interested in most of the rest of the classes.  I understood the logic of anatomy & physiology, health & safety, the integumentary system, cardio-vascular system and all those other semi-medical classes, so I enjoyed those too.  But reflexology?  Messing around with peoples' feet because that MIGHT be having an effect on the other systems of their body?  I just wasn't interested.

I resented the fact that if I didn't pass every class, then I wouldn't pass the course.  And that included those I had no interest in, would never use again and would not benefit me in the slightest.

So I quit.  And a friend recommended that I study privately instead.  I tried to get funding, but failed, so paid for the course out of my unemployment benefit instead.  The course fees took up a huge chunk of my income, so I was reduced to living off beans on toast for nine months, while I concentrated solely on Swedish massage - a course that also covered all the physiological elements that were relevant.

I passed, because I understood what I needed to know at every step of the course.  One weekend per month over nine months, we concentrated on a specific system of the body, while still taking in the skeletal and muscular stuff and while still learning how to give a good massage.  At home, we knew what stuff to brush up on and we were encouraged to use friends and family as private case studies.  I had two posters on the wall by my PC - one showing the skeletal system and one showing the muscular system.  They were covered in post-it notes concentrating on about forty specific muscles and included (in anatomical terms) their origins, insertion points and actions.  I learned how to map out a broad and simplified version of the cardio-vascular system and would draw it out repeatedly until I could do it from memory alone.  What was very complicated at college, became a lot easier on this course.

After that, I went onto a different course and learned Acupressure Therapy.  This was a more specialised form of massage that was designed to be taken into the office environment.  The client could sit in a specially designed chair and the therapist could get to work on that person's neck, back and shoulders.  The client remained fully dressed and no oils were used.  For me - as a male therapist - this was perfect.  There was no major need for privacy, the massages were delivered right out in the open and the client didn't feel vulnerable.

I got a job at Glasgow airport, where I developed my technique, then moved on to work at a clinic in Glasgow.  I worked there for about three years.  The business was owned by Nicola - a friend of mine - and we worked incredibly hard there to try and develop it.  I routinely worked for a minimum of 60 hours every week.  There were days when I had to both open and close the place, so I'd get up in the morning, take more than an hour to travel to Glasgow, open the shutters, get inside, clean the place, get it open by 9AM, work all day, then close up at 8PM and return home.

Not every day was like that.  On other days, Nicola and I would travel in together, so I could sleep a bit later.  She often commented that she couldn't understand why I wasn't exhausted and at the time we put that down to the fact that I have a very high metabolism.  I still believe that was a strong element, but since I found out that I have Asperger's Syndrome, I also learned that this is one of the things that people with the condition tend to experience.  Being focused on the job and having distractions would mean that I wasn't always aware of how they were affecting my physically.  Just because I didn't FEEL tired didn't mean that I was as inexhaustible as I appeared to be.  In fact, when I would get home, I'd usually have time to get myself something to eat, watch TV for an hour and then practically collapse into bed.  And get up the following day to do the same thing again.

It seems that people on the autistic scale aren't always the best judges of how they're feeling.  OK... so I covered tiredness there, because it was directly applicable to me as a result of that job.  But I've also experienced times when I've sat down at my PC to write something, or work on a piece of art, or even just play a game - and them become so focused on what I'm doing that hours can go by without me really being aware of it.  I won't notice time passing, or the room getting colder and darker, or the fact that I'm getting hungry.  I couldn't even estimate the amount of times where I've sat back from the screen and actually felt like I'm just waking up - and then trying to remember when I last ate.  Usually the answer to that one would be that I HADN'T eaten that day.  And I'd suddenly realise that I was cold, hungry and thirsty.

Not tired, though.  This is complicated by that metabolism thing again, but I hardly ever get properly tired.  I seldom have proper sleep patterns and I hate going to bed.  It just seems like an incredible waste of time and I can always find something to distract me or some reason to delay the moment where I turn in.  Unless, of course, I'm working as a massage therapist for 60 hours a week.

One thing I love (and it happens rarely) is that feeling of sheer, physical and mental exhaustion that actually means that my bed is something to be welcomed.  That sensation where even just stripping off is an exertion that feels like a strain on overstretched physical resources.  And that sensation of sheer bliss as I drag the blankets over myself.  When I'm pushed to that level, then my bed becomes the most welcome and welcoming possible place.

Back to massage therapy, though - I seem to have drifted away from the subject.

I used to find it intriguing that I was the least tactile massage therapist I had ever met.  I've never been the kind of person to go about initiating physical contact.  It's not that I have a problem with it, like a lot of people on the autistic scale - it's more like I've never really been sure of the rules of physical contact, so I've never been sure how it would be perceived if I DID initiate it.  Handshakes have usually been fine, but even then I can get a bit over analytical.  In any given situation, I'll find myself thinking about whether offering my hand to someone is going to be an appropriate or welcome gesture.

So when I first started training as a massage therapist, I found myself thinking about this.  I had chosen a career option where I was going to HAVE to touch people.  It was a necessary and intrinsic part of this chosen vocation.  But... there were rules governing it.  It was sanctioned contact.  So perhaps I'd chosen this job as a means of receiving tactile contact as well as giving it.

At the airport - and then at the clinic - I had a lot of loyal clients who kept returning specifically for me.  It's a really good feeling to look up and see familiar faces coming back because they appreciated what I'd done to them on previous visits.

(Please note that the following anecdotes will - in no way - compromise any client confidentiality issues, because no names are going to be given and there will not be enough personal information that could result in anyone identifying them.)

I was just about to close the shutter on the clinic one day, when someone turned up and she looked so incredibly disappointed that she'd missed her opportunity for a massage, that I couldn't just turn her away.  I missed my train, but I still invited her in.  She was an intriguing person; she never spoke much and I never really felt like I could find anything in her back that particularly needed working on, but she clearly disagreed because she would turn up on an average of twice a week.  She was a very shy person and I suspect that she came back because there was a tactile element that she wasn't experiencing elsewhere.

At the airport, a girl came through on a business trip one day and had a massage.  Nothing particularly special about that, but she came back through the following day on her return journey and this time I found something wrong with her neck.  A big lump on the right hand side.  I knew it hadn't been there the day before, so I was immediately concerned.  I explored it nervously and came to the tentative conclusion that it was a rotated vertebrae.  After a moment I mentioned it to her and she instantly agreed.  It was the recurring consequence of an old horse riding accident and often presented itself when she slept in a strange bed.  And it always resulted in blinding headaches.  I didn't go pushing it back into place or anything stupid like that, but as I worked on the muscles round about it, they reasserted themselves and slowly drew it back into its proper position.  I was fascinated by this process - I was witnessing the body actually correcting itself with a bit of outside help.  I never saw her again, so I don't know if she managed to escape the headaches this time, but I like to think she did.

Another regular client at the airport used to enjoy telling me that he appreciated that I could pile on the pressure.  "These little girls," he said once.  "They don't know how to fuckin' do it."  I knew that was wrong, because the little therapist he was referring to could really pile on the pressure; she could practically cripple me.  But he was convinced that a tall, male therapist was automatically stronger so he wasn't going to be convinced.  One day, he came through and told me he'd paid £90 for a massage the previous day.  I was impressed and said that must have been a good massage.  "Well, to be fair," he said.  "It wasn't just a massage."

Again at the airport... a businessman came through and he was seriously angry.  He walked into the massage area and practically spluttered out his story of indignation.  The airport had messed up on a connecting flight and now he was going to have to wait twelve hours and still have to pay extra.  I really felt bad for him; I could empathise with the impotent rage he was clearly feeling.  I let him rant and after a minute or two, when he'd finished telling me the story, he aplogised "for taking it out on me".  I told him that I hadn't felt like he'd done that; he just needed a vent and it wasn't like I was feeling picked on because he wasn't holding me responsible in any way.  Then I gave him a massage.  When I had finished and he sat up, the transformation was incredible.  He was completely blissed out.  In that moment, I really loved my job.

I can't do massage therapy any more - not as a career.  I was in a car accident in early 2009 and was left with long-term whiplash.  Now I can probably work on more than one or two people in a short period, but if I do any more work than that, the whiplash flares up and I'm in a lot of pain all over again so I have to make sure I don't overdo it.

I still do it occasionally, but not in a professional capacity. To keep in practice, or because I know someone could benefit from it. And maybe one day I'll get past this whiplash and get back into it as a career option. Just... not for a good while, yet.