I think I must have heard every possible incarnation of the phrase: "There is light at the end of the tunnel" over the last 40 years or so. From concerned family members to well-meaning therapists, the all encompassing message that persistence reaps a happy ending is a stalwart of the optimist's arsenal... I am sorry if I sound less than optimistic - The light at the end of my personal subway has been obvious by its absence for the entire span of operations, but I suddenly find myself part of a team that has been busily installing skylights along the length of the entire system...
My own network of dark and seemingly endless tunnels had been explored exhaustively and no prophetic light could be found, perhaps because there didn't appear to be an end to the tunnel. I may have managed, through trial and error, to learn to walk the tunnels without blundering into the walls too often but fear of the dark, so to speak, is ever present and unyielding. I may also have had company in the dark - a trusted companion who held me up when I stumbled, but we were both, still in the dark. In my despair, I reluctantly conceded that this was my reality many years ago, and that it would never change.
I have no precedent, therefore, for the fact that this reality has changed, and I feel oddly, but pleasantly, adrift. I talked some time ago, about my wish to break down the barrier that still existed between my husband and I, despite our 30 years of amicable partnership. He is NT and we have never shared an understanding about how the Asperger's mind differs from the NT. Until now.
My husband recently attended Peter Flowerdew's course on Transactional Analysis for therapists and Aspie clients and their families. Again, I was helping out as co-presenter with my friend, Rich. I had hoped, that after 3 intensive days of explanations and discussion, my husband would acquire some insight into what life is actually like for me, and Aspies generally. Indeed, he acquired this insight and more: He also learned a new appreciation of his own personality and communication style, and how it colours all of his interactions. He understands, at last, the extent to which our worlds differ, and that, given the right circumstances, they can converge. In short, the last barrier to our communication has been lifted, and we can now be wholly 'real' with each other, in a shared space, with no concerns about treading blindly on each other's toes.
My 11 year old son paid us the simplest of compliments, when he heard his Dad and I talking after the course: He said "Dad, why are you talking like Mum?" Such a small thing, but it was the first 'independent verification' that we were finally speaking the same language.
My vocabulary seems insufficient, and my thoughts too cluttered to clearly express the impact of this on our lives. I hope that this stupefied state will leave me soon, and I can write more clearly about the implications of this profoundly positive change.
The Great Convergence: Galaxies, NGC 2207 on the left, and IC 2163 on the right, approx. 80 million light-years from Earth (Hubble Space Telescope image) Not so much a collision, as a 'coming together'.
My own network of dark and seemingly endless tunnels had been explored exhaustively and no prophetic light could be found, perhaps because there didn't appear to be an end to the tunnel. I may have managed, through trial and error, to learn to walk the tunnels without blundering into the walls too often but fear of the dark, so to speak, is ever present and unyielding. I may also have had company in the dark - a trusted companion who held me up when I stumbled, but we were both, still in the dark. In my despair, I reluctantly conceded that this was my reality many years ago, and that it would never change.
I have no precedent, therefore, for the fact that this reality has changed, and I feel oddly, but pleasantly, adrift. I talked some time ago, about my wish to break down the barrier that still existed between my husband and I, despite our 30 years of amicable partnership. He is NT and we have never shared an understanding about how the Asperger's mind differs from the NT. Until now.
My husband recently attended Peter Flowerdew's course on Transactional Analysis for therapists and Aspie clients and their families. Again, I was helping out as co-presenter with my friend, Rich. I had hoped, that after 3 intensive days of explanations and discussion, my husband would acquire some insight into what life is actually like for me, and Aspies generally. Indeed, he acquired this insight and more: He also learned a new appreciation of his own personality and communication style, and how it colours all of his interactions. He understands, at last, the extent to which our worlds differ, and that, given the right circumstances, they can converge. In short, the last barrier to our communication has been lifted, and we can now be wholly 'real' with each other, in a shared space, with no concerns about treading blindly on each other's toes.
My 11 year old son paid us the simplest of compliments, when he heard his Dad and I talking after the course: He said "Dad, why are you talking like Mum?" Such a small thing, but it was the first 'independent verification' that we were finally speaking the same language.
My vocabulary seems insufficient, and my thoughts too cluttered to clearly express the impact of this on our lives. I hope that this stupefied state will leave me soon, and I can write more clearly about the implications of this profoundly positive change.
The Great Convergence: Galaxies, NGC 2207 on the left, and IC 2163 on the right, approx. 80 million light-years from Earth (Hubble Space Telescope image) Not so much a collision, as a 'coming together'.
