Well, I Guess I've Got It Then

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Mountain Goat,

Yes, I have fallen on my bicycle many, many times. Here in Indiana we get a lot of "freezing rain" in the winter. That happens when the air aloft is warm but the temperature at ground level is well below freezing. So the precipitation falls as rain but freezes as soon as it hits anything. I'm getting older now and am afraid I'll fall and break my shoulder or something. So now, I will no longer ride in those conditions. If the roads are that slippery I'll try to find a ride and if not I'll put on my ice cleats and walk and push the bicycle. That way the bike actually offers some support almost like using a walker. Very often (but not always) the ice is gone by evening.

Concerning your remarks about your hair, my wife cuts mine and I always get in the shower immediately after that and make sure I get it all off because it is terribly irritating. The more I learn about my condition the more I've begun to realize that other so-called "NTs" are not bothered by this stuff so much.

Since you refer to your identity on this list as a "Mountain Goat" I thought I'd send you a picture of a different kind of Mountain Goat. Perhaps you've seen this already:

https://www.dreamstime.com/rocky-great- ... e145496961

That goat was the mascot for the Great Northern Railway in America. You know, our trains over here just aren't as interesting anymore. There once was a time where every goods car was painted with catchy logos and phrases but no more. Boxcars have nearly disappeared and have been mostly replaced by containers. That's progress, I guess, but it just doesn't seem like nearly as much fun.

Juliette,

I must say that’s a most interesting history you shared with us! You mentioned Australia. Are you still there? Australia has been in the news a lot in America due to the terrible bush fires. Another one of my quirks or fixations in addition to railways is forestry and trees. In fact, once upon a time I thought I wanted to become a forest ranger in the worst way imaginable. Sadly, I had a terrible time with first and second year required courses like trigonometry, calculus, economics and, worst of all, chemistry. They required three semesters of chemistry.

I now believe that my learning difficulties interfered with this and I finally gave up. After ten years I secured a degree in music therapy and worked at that in a couple of state run institutions. It was very depressing. This was where I first came in close contact with real autistic people. They were down near the bottom of level three. Some were still non-verbal in spite of the fact that they were adults. Back then, that's what I thought autism was. It never occurred to me that there could be different levels of it and I never would've dreamed by my wildest imagination that I have it! And yet I felt a weird connection to these patients. Almost like a wavelength or something - it's hard to explain. I now realize that the only difference between them and me was one of degree. I was just like them but just not as bad.

One little girl named Ellen (well, I called them “kids” although some were in their 30s and 40s), was kinda cute and she’d grab hold of my hand and hold onto it. Sometimes it was hard for me to make her let go. There were a couple of times that she really “went off” on me and it was more than I could take and I’m afraid I kinda lost my temper with her. I feel bad about that now – a person should NEVER, EVER lose their temper.

So, I had to finally conclude that this career really wasn’t for me after all and I pulled up stakes and moved out to the Midwest where I have pursued a career in pull-behind trailer camping parts.

You asked if either my brother or sister (I have one of each) were on the spectrum. As far as I know they were not. My Dad might’ve been but if so he was very, very mild. Probably what they used to call an “Aspie”.

He might have identified with some of my behaviors and concluded that there was “really nothing wrong with the kid” that he won’t grow out of. But there was something “wrong”. It’s only taken me 67 years to figure out what it was.

Now I know and have mixed feelings about this. On one hand it’s very, very satisfying to finally, finally, FINALLY know WHY I was “different” and didn’t "fit in" well. But on the other hand it was a bit of a shock to realize that I am actually autistic. Haley Moss likes to say that she’s proud of her autism. Maybe I can finally reach that point, too, but it’s going to take time.