Tuesday, 28 December 2010

A Poem About Being Autistic - for James who may understand, one day.



I originally wrote this in mirror writing, a skill at which I am now something of an expert. Reading it without holding the back of the page to the light, to get it the 'right' way round, makes for somewhat stilted reading but I think adds to the overall, monotone, impact.

----------------------------

I like clothes with pockets
so I can keep my things
all of them
all of my special things
in one place
so I know where they are.

You told me about the girl you met
and the story she told you
about the boy
who kicked over chairs.

He was autistic, you said.
When things got too much
for him at school,
he kicked over chairs.

He was LFA,
low functioning autistic.
I am HFA,
high functioning autistic.
What is the difference?
The difference between
HFA and LFA
is that LFA are more honest.
If things get too much
they scream
or kick over chairs
or hit someone
or run away.

HFA people are just better
at pretending.
We teach ourselves to smile
in all the right places
at all the right times
but we still don’t fit in and
inside we are screaming.

Oh, if you knew the rage,
if you knew the rage
that makes us
kick over chairs
or kick holes in walls,
you would be merciful.

I think LFAs are lucky.
they are no words, all action.
NO WORDS, ALL ACTION.
If they don’t like it,
they kick over chairs.

Being HFA,
or Asperger’s,
is like living life
on the red carpet
or the Hollywood walk of fame.
Everyone is looking at you,
or laughing
and saying things
you don’t understand
because you are different and
don’t know why and
inside you are screaming
and kicking over chairs
and killing people
or yourself
and running away.

Which is why
I like clothes with pockets
so I can keep my things
in one place,
my special things,
so I know where they are,
when I run away.

Monday, 11 October 2010

Sebo Felix Pet, my new vacuum cleaner



I hate housework, I have to admit but my new Sebo has been the best vacuum cleaner I have ever bought.

Having two dogs and four cats means the carpets get, er, matted, which is why the Sebo Felix Pet was such a great choice. The attachment head for stairs and pet hairs actually works, unlike those on previous cleaners which clog up and leave the brush unable to rotate. Even though the cable is shorter than I am used to and I have to stop half way down the stairs, carry the Sebo down and then start again from the bottom, it is still quicker and more efficient than previous rivals.

Its black and silver colour and racing car styling appeal to my 16 year-old son, who now quite often takes it upon himself to clean the living room carpet. Admittedly, it was he who dropped my now deceased old pet vac down the stairs within weeks of purchase. It spent virtually the entirety of its short life stuck together with brown parcel tape. It was after he accidentally threw away the cyclone filter that it sucked its last.


The great edge cleaning means it is not always necessary to use the crevice tool to clean along the skirting board. The head swivels to make cleaning around furniture really quick and easy but it has to be tried to be fully appreciated and the removable bags last for ages. I was very sceptical when the shop assistants told me this because the replacements are quite costly. However, even with as many furry friends as we have, the bag has only been replaced twice and I suspect the second time was my son's overkeeness.

My Sebo came with a detachable head for hard floors and a box of powder carpet stain remover. The only downside to this fabulous piece of German engineering is the lack of either onboard storage space for the additional heads or something to put them in.

Although it is more expensive than others on the market, it is lighter, more efficient, takes up less space and is wonderful to use. The side carrying handle makes it easy to take upstairs so, hopefully, my new Sebo Felix Pet won't suffer the fate of the last vacuum cleaner.

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

Supporting Statement I read at my interview.

I have written this in case my responses to your questions become lost in my labyrinthine, autistic, rainbow head.

You say the NAS actively encourages people with autism to apply to work for them. It is my sincere hope you will seriously consider my application today. You will never regret it. I have a great deal of understanding and compassion for those on the autistic spectrum. I promise you today that my commitment will be both to your amazing organisation and those you seek to serve.

I am an individual with the strength of character, integrity and tenacity to overcome the kind of hurdles and prejudices, personal difficulties and misunderstanding that nobody should have to live with. I am not the kind of person to go the extra mile, but one who will go as many miles as it takes to achieve a satisfactory outcome.

Being a university student opened many doors for me. One of the most memorable was attending the National Autistic Society 2008 International Conference. It showed me the direction my life and career should be taking, which is to work with and for the National Autistic Society. Only one of the main stage speakers, Stephen Shore, was on the autism spectrum. I would like to add to that number. To steal one of your campaign titles, don’t write me off. To steal another one, I exist. But, you know, I’m going to do more than exist, I’m going to go out and win.

Five years ago, it was the NAS website and helpline which enabled me to self diagnose my Asperger’s syndrome. It gave me the tools to approach my doctor for a formal diagnosis but, more than anything, it gave something for me to approach my youngest son’s school with. Autism runs in families, as you know, and Martin was no longer either just a naughty boy or the product of inadequate parenting. Even though Bruno Bettelheim’s ‘refrigerator mother’ theory has long been discredited, misunderstanding, ignorance and prejudice still exist. I cannot imagine anything more rewarding than working with the National Autistic Society, to raise autism awareness in society and empower my own people to achieve dignity, respect, admiration, employment, education, successful relationships and the brightest of futures.

The NAS has run some remarkable campaigns, one of which gave rise to the Autism Act, while your current campaign, You Need to Know, is fantastic but perhaps could have included adults with autistic spectrum conditions. Mental health problems do not go away with age and sometimes they can be compounded by late diagnosis and the frustration of trying to communicate with a world that does not understand or whose preconceptions fail to recognise that difference is okay.

Looking ahead, it would be wonderful to see the National Autistic Society run a campaign called If I can, You Can, led by people on the autism spectrum, for people on the autism spectrum. Why? To enable spectrumites who have achieved, to inspire those who want to but may be unsure where to start. It would help parents realise their autistic children can do so much, can live independently and enhance the communities in which they live.

If you appoint me to the position of University Support Mentor, I hope my example and inspiration will communicate just this: If I can, You Can.

Saturday, 1 May 2010

Does it make you want to read the essay?




It was Shabbat and I was trying to sleep. My applied project had been a work in progress forever, it seemed and I was determined not to tweak it anymore. I had had been looking over my personal reflection until late the night before, sculpting and shaping it, still not understanding what it was supposed to actually do. I got up and made a large glass of detox tea and stood in my sunny garden. Whilst trying to dig out bits of stuck breakfast, superfood seed mix, from between my teeth, the Eureka moment hit me; an instant of, ‘By jove, she’s got it.’

Why had nobody actually explained that a personal reflection is the same as the preface to a book? The forward? The introduction? The frustration, married with relief at finally having the penny drop made me decide to rewrite the whole bloody lot. It was 8.45 in the morning and I had ninety minutes to bung a few thoughts down before picking Nick up and spending the rest of the morning in synagogue. There was an element of moral responsibility and I wondered if I should email all the students who had agonised over theirs and had borrowed my last one and excitedly tell them, ‘It’s an intro, guys.’

Let me preface my essay

Using my dad as the subject of this assignment should have been easy but it has been an angry lion to wrestle in the darkness with. Sometimes it felt as though something had crawled into my heart and died. At other times, memories like the warm smile of sunshine stroked my cheeks.

It has been a reflection on my life and how it has interwoven with that of my dad. I wrote what I hoped would be an honest tribute to victory over his demons.
My father was reborn, to become the high as a mountain and wide as the sky dad I remembered as a child. He was going to sell a book and I was going to be leather jacketed, a motorcycling, journalist bombing around, digging up fantastic stories.

In December last year, I was in an Oxford pub, the Lamb and Child with author Philip Pullman, discussing books and how he wrote. I asked if he’d ever considered writing an autobiography, as his right to reply to his critics. No, if he wrote anything like that, he told me, it would be more in the form of a memoir. He suggested I write a book but my response was I would not want it to look like misery lit. ‘Then make it happy lit,’ he’d said.

If this essay is to be considered as one chapter in a book, I would like it to be seen as balanced lit. Honest, candid and worthy of both tears and laughter. That would be a very accurate memoir. I hope not to have evoked any feelings in the reader of bitterness and anger towards my dad because that would be false. I have nothing but admiration for a man who has turned into a role model of mountainous proportion.

I write about having two dads and this is often how children of addicts describe their suffering parent, whose torment ripples across the whole family and often to the community and wider society. One person can cause so much devastation for so many.

I remember the terrified child, frightened and crying, held hostage in the kitchen by the night time dad with his flailing arms and drunken rants of how the world would end when Russia went to nuclear war with America.

I remember line of one of my favourite songs, Bridge Over Troubled Water, written by Paul Simon:

Sail on silver girl, sail on by. Your time has come to shine. All your dreams on their way. See how they shine.

And I hope they will.

They bring me to another junction, where, in my mind, I check my map and look up. There is a mountain enveloped in clouds of uncertainty and incredible adventure. I look down, over an eye wetting landscape of both beauty and trauma. Treetops, valleys, lakes; the sea in the distance, reflecting the sun; cattle grazing and lambs, playing Batman or Power Rangers. I wish I could print photographs of those pictures. Maybe that is something far higher up, where the sky is always wilder than motorbikes, leather jackets, journalistic aspirations and innocent, childish dreams.

References
Page, R. The Presence a memoir of miracles. 2010. O Books, Ropley, Hants.
http://www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk/
http://alcoholism.about.com
http://www.apas.org.uk/index.htm
http://www.drinkaware.co.uk/

Thursday, 22 April 2010

Country diary of an Edwardian Lady meets the 21st Century


I was trying to explain to my dad how the university system works in England, through the eyes of a mature and autistic student. Some knowledge of the names given to pre-decimal coinage would help. Here is an extract from the email I sent.

-------------------------

Now for the lesson in how higher education works in 2010. Nobody, by the way, gives you a glossary of terms. They must either assume you know or you'll have to work it out for yourself.

Module: in old money is a subject or topic. Whilst my degree is BA (Hons) Journalism Studies, we have different modules to complete within it. Some are elective and others mandatory. (I don't think I have to explain the difference to you).

Semester: American (shudder) for academic term.

We have three modules (subjects) each semester (term). For me, at the moment, it is 1- applied project* or dissertation (I still don't know what one of those is) which is mandatory. 2- Journalism Professional Practices. Mandatory. 3- Sexuality and Culture. Elective.

*My applied project is you, dad.

The JPP is a horrible, autism hostile, module I would never have chosen because the unwritten rules are endless.

My one elective module is Sexuality and Culture. How this relates at all to journalistic anything escapes me but going to uni on Friday afternoons and talking about sex is actually quite a refreshing change. Just when you think you have been there and done that so many times you wish you had bought the t-shirt factory, rethink. Experience tells you to hide your hands in your armpits when you really want to throw at least one in the air and say, 'Miss? Miss? What's rimming, miss?' And dominatrix? Well, I used to love the double five. That was my favourite. Oh, sorry, I was thinking dominoes. Must be getting old. Do you think shove ha'penny means something rude these days? I mean, you can't say 'pussy' without setting a 13 year-old off laughing. As if anyone these days knows what an ha'penny is. I dread to think what they'd do with a tanner. Old money; old people; And there was this girl who said one of those deeply meaningful things that began with well, twenty years ago.... and I missed the rest of it because inside I was falling over laughing. How did we forget that sex was invented by teenagers and copulation is the number of policemen down at the local nick?

As for home study. You could call it research or homework that nobody sets but our written work is telling on how much we have done. In my case, not necessarily very much. There is something of an art to producing a piece of work which ticks all the boxes but is just outside of the experience of the marker. For instance, last year, I did a piece for the module called 'Investigation and Research Skills' and missed out loads of quite important information because our module leader (teacher) had never been to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. It comes in handy, being old. You realise that grown-ups don't know everything and a lot of the others still look at the module and course leaders as grown-ups, somehow bigger than they are. They are like puppies, trying to sound profound, eager to please. My advantage is in being more mercenary now. I ask what gets marks and have taught the relevant few how to break down information into comprehensible bullet points. The dog has taught its master how to bark.

Plagiarism is something of a media panic. It is far harder to achieve than most people outside of univeristies think and has been going on since Adam were a lad. There are computer programs which essays can be run through that throw alerts up when something looks as though it has been copied and pasted from a website. There must have been youngsters copying, long hand, huge chunks of stuff they fished out of text books ever since Gutenberg created the printing press. Just as youth insists it invented sex, so its impudence assumes the ignorance of the old.

But I still laughed behind my hand when I read the word crap in a recent edition of The Oldie.

I'll get back to my essay now.

Image courtesy of www.cartoonstock.com

Saturday, 10 April 2010

Personal reflection on my Final Year project piece


Dave, who I mention in the piece, is my supervisor and has been just brilliant. I had been at home, absorbed in learning an extract of the Kaddish in Hebrew when I received an email from our course leader, Sue, saying I had not submitted the personal reflection or a CV I needed for this module. Yet they gave me a chance to write one and get in by Monday. This was Friday lunchtime and I work all weekend. The task looked and felt impossible. I threw this together on the train from Long Eaton to Sheffield and back and got my best ever mark for it (78%). Here it is, in full.

..................

In his poem Buttercup Days, AAMilne wrote:

What has she got in that little brown head?
Wonderful thoughts which can never be said...


This is probably the best appraisal of an autistic mind I have come across. Succinct and unambiguous.

My original idea had been to write about aliens and autism and life on the periphery of society; to discover whether or not there could be anything to substantiate the belief of some people that aliens have visited earth and deposited various offspring among the human populace.

Following a much anxiety and procrastination, Dave and I decided my project would be on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Asperger’s syndrome. His suggestion was, in fact, Gary McKinnnon but we thought it a good idea to widen it. It was a traumatic personal journey which uncovered even more aspects of a difficult life to acknowledge.

My intention, in consultation with my supervisor, was to write a balance of first hand insights with other printed material, which I felt I achieved without becoming self indulgent. The outtakes were fairly epic in proportion to the submitted piece but there is an awful lot to filter in my ‘little brown head’.

Living in a foreign culture and speaking an alien tongue is pretty hard going but what I have most of all hoped for is that one, elusive, piece of work; that wonderful window through which everyone will suddenly be able to see and understand an autistic mind in all its rainbow glory.

Gary McKinnon epitomises everyone’s dread of being left stranded, abandoned and misunderstood. Up Shit Creek without a paddle, to use a vernacular expression. Simon Baron-Cohen threw a life line, recognising McKinnon’s autistic traits during a television interview and he has been doing his utmost to help this man since. So have many other people but those of us care about individuals and their right to be heard and understood can only sign petitions, write to Members of Parliament, and hope.

I tried to explain the reason behind autistic ‘strong interests’ and how they can become obsessive. This does not necessarily mean OCD, which I discovered during my research. It seems to be whatever is going on in little brown autistic heads that turns obsession into obsessive compulsive disorder. Egodystonic thoughts, as Tony Attwood called them. It hardly expresses the terror and rigid fear these not-so-wonderful thoughts bring with them. Even though my mentor quite liked what I’d written and a friend complimented it when I put it on my blog; even when I submitted a pitch to Communication, the magazine of the National Autistic Society and they expressed an interest in publishing it, I felt I had ‘bombed’. Nothing seemed to adequately capture and tame that wild firework display of thoughts and emotions.
Then to go through the trauma of checking, rechecking, sweating, crying and swearing over it, it was handed in. But I was so focused on the piece of work itself I either forgot or did not notice the personal reflection and CV, which also needed to be completed and handed in. Very fortunately, the teaching staff gave me the chance to write and submit it, which is where I am now, clutching at oars from the man in Shit Creek Paddle Store. Crying all over again at the two fighting factions in my head. One is the voice of my mother, whose blazing furnace of a mouth was telling me I’m no good and will never amount to anything. The other fights that furious, angry, fire with water, an ocean of affirmation that allows us to stuff up and yet be given a chance.

This is why I understand Gary McKinnon. His raging obsession burned so hard and furious he was incapable of seeing all those other really important issues surrounding his hunt for alien life and free energy.

Maybe Gary McKinnon’s mute shout will be heard and he will be freed.

One day, perhaps, those ‘wonderful thoughts’ of Buttercup Days, which are locked inside the glass wall of my mind, separating our worlds, will find a window and be adequately able to communicate.

Wednesday, 13 January 2010

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Asperger’s Syndrome


It must be remembered that people with Asperger’s syndrome (AS), as it is with anyone on the autism spectrum, have difficulty making and maintaining friendships so therefore have little or no benchmarks upon which to judge their personal experiences and feelings. Asperger’s syndrome is not a ‘mild’ form of autism. It is a form, and brings its own set of difficulties. The privilege my Kanner’s cousins have is to say nothing and throw a tantrum. I am cursed with speech, constipated by it. I must, to the death, voicelessly scream to be heard.

We are labelled egocentric. Ours is a self created world, where the individual on the autism spectrum can live without fear or confusion. It is conducting our own orchestra so that all the different aspects fall in to a manageable tune. There are few people who, in truth, do not prefer to maintain a high level of control in their lives. Typically, most like to plan their careers, holidays, children’s schooling, where they live and how they spend their money and free time. For people on the autism spectrum, life can be a labyrinth of stress, conflict, confusion and culture because, although born on this planet, its habits, customs and language are alien.
Asperger’s syndrome is not a mental health issue. Along with other autism spectrum conditions, it is neurological. The brain is wired differently from that of most other people. We are not Asperger ‘victims’, as newspaper headlines suggest. We are more likely to get mental health problems, such as depression, because the world can be so difficult to understand. Communication and self expression are really hard for people like us. Some, with classic autism, do not even bother to try and can have delayed speech, or non at all. Nobody would dare to suggest a blind person was ‘victim’ to sight loss, or a wheelchair user ‘victim’ to mobility problems. Ours is a ‘hidden disability’. We can walk, talk, hear; most of us speak and certainly feel. Anyone with any form of disability would tell you the biggest obstacle they have in life is the prejudice of other people.

When I began to look at the relationship between obsessive compulsive disorder and Asperger’s syndrome, I never expected to find anything as traumatic as Tony Attwood’s description of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder: ‘In OCD, the person has intrusive thoughts he or she does not want to think about: the thoughts are described as egodystonic, ie distressing and unpleasant.’
‘Distressing’ and ‘unpleasant’ are sanitized words that in no way express the devastation experienced by those whose autism causes so much suffering. Even very small diversions can be intolerable.

When I became pregnant with my eldest son, now 26, I became terrified of dying. Against a background of high media profile CND (Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament) activity, coupled with having been brought up as a Quaker, who are traditionally pacifists, it fed my deepest fears. Crossing the road became an ordeal. What if a car came ‘out of nowhere’ and killed me, and my unborn baby? Life revolved around listening to the hourly news on the local radio. I would wait, coat on and ready to go out, feeling physically sick with fear, for a news bulletin saying someone, somewhere, had pushed the red button to launch us all into oblivion. It did not help that we lived a mile from both an army base and motorway and eight miles from an airport. All of these were realistic targets for nuclear attack, according to CND propaganda. This was how life was until we moved house, when my son was 18 months old.

Attwood goes on to explain that typical people obsess about ‘cleanliness, aggression, religion and sex’, whereas in children and adults with Asperger’s syndrome, their thoughts concern ‘cleanliness, bullying, teasing, making a mistake and being criticized’.

It is worth noting that cleanliness is first and foremost in both of Attwood’s lists. We may think OCD starts and stops with obsessive hand washing, house cleaning or performing tasks in exactly the same order, at the same time of day. The second words in Attwood’s lists are ‘aggression’ (typical) and ‘bullying’ (autistic) which is interesting because they are both very obviously related, yet somehow different. Aggression is generic but bullying is very much more personal. Aggressive is rarely, I would suggest, either a word or term directed at the self, by the self. Who ever says, I am feeling aggressive towards myself? Bullying is very much from one to another.

As someone with Asperger’s syndrome, it is quite easy to identify with the latter list; and also the former, because Tony Attwood does not include religion or sex in autistic obsessions. Anything can be obsessed upon. Whilst age and experience deal with most of the above, it is important for people involved with AS adults that it is by degree these issues are conquered or, at least, controlled. It is useful for anyone to understand these difficulties, differences, disabilities, exist. We learn to cope but not necessarily recover.

One way of doing this is by absorbing ourselves in an area of special interest. For some, and I mean specifically those on the autism spectrum, they can lead to employment, or a resource to making friends and meeting people. As many spectrum people find socializing very difficult, it helps to have interests that bring them into contact with like-minds. They may be obsessive and compulsive but would not be diagnosed as having OCD because their interests are pleasurable, an escape and a way of building social networks and friends.

Author Daniel Tammet first came in to the public awareness in a 2004 television documentary. Called The Boy with the Incredible Brain in the UK, it showed how Tammet, a man with both Asperger’s and savant syndrome, broke the European record for reciting pi to 22,514 digits. He is a linguist and teaches French and Spanish through online courses. Now the author of two books, Tammet has built a successful career out of his special interests and obsession with numbers. As a child, he had no friends so invented one of his own. In his book Born on a Blue Day, Tammet describes Anne, as he imagined her name to be, in great detail, from her height – he pictured her to be very tall- to her clothing and gentle tone of voice.
Dr Liane Holliday Willey also has Asperger’s syndrome. As doctor of education, she specializes in the area of psycholinguistics. Willey developed an obsession with language at high school.

‘Words and everything about them,’ she says, ‘hold my concentration like nothing else.’

She enjoys their shape and the way they can be moulded into ‘precisely what they should’. As someone who often struggles to make conversation, the written word offers the opportunity to express thoughts and ideas that spoken language cannot. Like Tammet, Willey also had imaginary friends.

Ten year-old Kenneth Hall, who has AS, wrote a book describing his life and family relationships, discussed things he enjoyed and others which he found difficult. He has invented his own ‘world’ and calls it Gaelica. In his book, Asperger Syndrome, the Universe and Everything, Kenneth says this: ‘Gaelica is better than this country because there is peace there. In Gaelica I am king but I am not superior.’
Hall, Tammet and Willey have all found ways to cope with stress and lack of peer relationships through fantasy worlds, imaginary friends and obsessive interests. Tammet is even inventing his own language, Manti.

Tammet loses himself in landscapes of his mind that visualizing numbers gives him; Hall has Gaelica and Willey her love of language and adolescent fixation with America’s wild west.

My eldest son went through patterns of intense interest as soon as he was able to toddle around the local library and choose his own books. He went through various passions, from space travel, reptiles, spiders and snakes, heavy plant machinery and farming. Fiction never interested him very much, which is typical of a child with Asperger’s syndrome. Once he had absorbed as much information as he could on one topic, he would drop it and move onto something else, without ever looking back. It was as though his prior passions had never existed. He was also extraordinarily dextrous with his hands and became obsessed with painting Citadel miniature figures. He rarely played with them but took great pains to add minute detail to the characters. On eyeballs no larger than a pin head, he would paint red lines on the corneas by using a single hair from a paintbrush. Like his younger half brother, Oliver resisted making peer group friends and was often in trouble at school on account of his odd and often violent behaviour.

Martin, the youngest of my three children, has left his obsession with cars behind and is now making friends through his new love: the skinhead scene. He has carefully researched the roots of the culture and is currently building an impressive library of ska and reggae music. He has attended events, nights out and gigs and has helped to organise functions of his own. Through his interest, he has travelled around the country and co-moderates skinhead internet forums. On his Facebook profile, Martin, who calls himself Ron, says:

‘I'm a skinhead nor more no less, i like my reggae and ska along with soul, non racist OI and some punk. I also like drinking beer going to do's and having a laugh with mates

A skinhead is a skinhead and a racist is a racist!’ (spelling and grammar his own)

For people with autism spectrum disorders, special interests can provide positive opportunities, careers and escape, for some they may become more sinister and harmful. These interests are very different from obsessive compulsions. Reflecting on the egodystonic aspect of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, when the ‘special interest’ tips over into an all consuming terror, it inhibits one’s ability to function normally.

Gary McKinnon

At this point, it may be useful to look at a very high profile case, regarding a man called Gary McKinnon. He hacked into the US defence system to look for evidence of extra-terrestrial life and free energy.

He was diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome after Professor Simon Baron Cohen, of the Autism Research Centre in Cambridge, saw a news report on McKinnon, identified his autistic traits and invited him to Cambridge, where an official diagnosis was obtained. He believes that McKinnon is very likely to commit suicide were he to be imprisoned in the US.

Many people on the autism spectrum would immediately identify with McKinnon’s state of mind and agree with Baron Cohen that his motives were altruistic. What Baron Cohen may fail to appreciate is the absolute intensity of McKinnon’s fears.
Let us look at why Gary McKinnon was ‘obsessed’ with UFOs, free energy, and, perhaps, (US) national conspiracy. He possibly felt he did not ‘fit’ into normal society. My guess is he was looking, among other reasons, for himself in his search for extra terrestrial life. A very high proportion of people with ASDs, like Gary, feel they must be from another planet so it makes sense to go out there and look. His lack of imagination, which is one of the diagnostic criteria of anyone with Asperger’s syndrome, did not appreciate the outcome and trouble he may have caused. It is very common for people with ASDs to describe themselves as ‘alien’. It explains their detachment and lack of belonging in the wider community. Once an idea has been planted inside the mind of an autist, as I call them, it is incredibly difficult to get away from it. Obsession takes hold and egodystonia takes its suffocating grip. Absolutely nothing else matters and perspective ceases to exist. Autistic people are very literal. It is an absolute in the black and white mind of the autist. Eating, washing, work, social connections, family, time, relationships and even going to the toilet are irritations that need to be attended to.

Professor Baron Cohen says:
‘Tragically, this narrow attention-to detail, and relentless pursuit-of the truth, together with his (McKinnon’s) reduced social awareness, has led him to act in a way that has brought him into serious trouble.
‘It is important to recognise that his emotional age or social intelligence is at the level of a child, even if his intelligence is systemising at an advanced level.’ (Daily Mail 08th July 2009)

McKinnon’s deep seated interest became obsessive.

McKinnon exchanged his paid job for a full-time hacking career, he stopped washing, became nocturnal, ate rarely, smoked marijuana and spent all day in a dressing gown. (Sunday Times, August 2, 2009).

McKinnon’s alien thoughts had taken over. He was compelled to find out if there was ‘life out there’ and what, he was convinced, the government of the United States was hiding. His mother, Janis Sharp, says, in an interview on BBC Breakfast Time, ‘passions become obsessions’ and that ‘people with Asperger’s tell the truth even to their own detriment’ .

Has anyone in the media sought opinions from another Asperger’s syndrome ‘sufferer’? Whatever happened to the balance we are taught to seek as journalism students?

In my experience, it seems that the neurotypical (non autistic) world needs to segregate, or pigeonhole, certain traits. It is far easier to slap on a label, from ‘unique individual’ to ‘alternative’, ‘eccentric’, ‘weird’, ‘geek’ or tags far less flattering but too numerous to mention. Worse still are those awful preconceptions that, like fallen boulders, we somehow have to crawl out from under. This is the attitude that Gary McKinnon is facing from the US Government. They have decided that his actions were indeed malicious and will not consider the altruistic motive that Professor Baron Cohen describes.

Dr Temple Grandin, autistic, author and the designer of one third of all the livestock-handling facilities in the United States tells a story of a young man called Tom McKean in her book Thinking in Pictures.

‘(He) became frustrated ...... because the professor flunked him for finding a better way to write the program.’

She goes on to say ‘A more creative professor would have challenged him (Tom) with more interesting and difficult program writing.’

Gary McKinnon’s biggest crime may well have been his ability to make the computer defenses of the US Government look stupid. It is purely arrogance on their part to choose a vulnerable, naive yet genius of a man to make an example of. He has not been the only person to successfully ‘hack’ into their computers and other prosecution and extradition attempts may yet follow.

What can the rest of us, Autism spectrum people that we are, hope for? Greater awareness and understanding of the motives, passions and obsessions of the misunderstood race that struggles so much to find a place. Perhaps, if and when this is achieved, we can set aside our fantasy world and take thrones in this world, where our frequent mental and emotional maelstroms finally find peace.