or: How I Learned to Avoid Toxic Situations and Love Myself
Today I had a meltdown in class. And as much as I hate badmouthing teacher’s practices I have to say that it was (mostly) the fault of a substitute teacher.
As a bit of background info: My school is specialized in computer engineering and a lot of our assignments are to be done on our PCs. It’s an established practice for substitute teachers to ask “Do you have something to do?” to which the answer is “Yes, of course.” regardless of whether we actually have an assignment to do and the teacher then lets us work (or play) on our laptops as long as we’re not too loud. I usually put on my headphones and listen to some music to block out occasional chatter while doing my homework.
Today however was different. The substitute teacher we had today opened the lesson with “Close your laptops please.” and explained that “Even chatting is better than using your laptops.” in her eyes. That’s when my alarm bells rang. Unfortunately the only thing I thought was “This will be hell.” and tried to figure out how to solve a math problem.
I wasn’t the only one who was unhappy with her decision. Half of the class started arguing with her until she allowed some people to work on their laptops because “They earned it by talking to me.” I opened my notebook to look up a base integral. Suddenly the teacher said “It’s amazing how many people don’t know what to do without their computers.” That’s when one of my classmates who’s known for talking a lot even when he doesn’t really have anything to say started arguing with her (At least I’m sure that he definitely talked from that point on. He had permission to use his laptop so he must’ve talked before.) Five minutes into their heated discussion I noticed that I’m going to have a meltdown if I don’t get out of there so I raised my hands. Because their discussion seemed to be very interesting it took five minutes before she gave me permission to speak after the whole row also raised their hands to show that this is important.
It was already too late when I got to talk. I was unable to speak so the person sitting next to me communicated for me. I was given permission to leave the room (She also could’ve shut up but sending a student outside seemed like a more feasible option.)
I spent the rest of the lesson on the other end of the hallway because she seemed to continue talking. At some point a girl who usually is very supportive of me and understands my problems patted me on the back as she saw me standing, head against the wall when she was going to the toilet. Usually that’d’ve added to the sensory overload but in that specific situation it helped because it made me feel less “crazy”.
The teacher I had the next lesson was my favourite teacher who understood the problem. The communication went like “What happened?” – “Ms. K. happened.” and she immediately understood. I was allowed to spend as much of the lesson in a quiet place and she told me to think of a certain topic since they were just brainstorming anyway (which was the last thing I needed at that time). I returned after 20 minutes, still a bit tired but already a lot better. When I came home from school I collapsed into bed and slept for 10 hours straight.
To break down what went wrong:
Now the things that went not only right but left me with a relatively good feeling after I had mostly recovered:
I don’t want to tell anyone how to treat autistic people but I want you to be able to judge for yourself what would be a good idea by letting you know how I feel. Also, keep in mind that I am just one autistic person and other people may have different needs.
Holidays are a great thing. Time for yourself. Time to learn the stuff your school threw out of the curriculum in favor of
torturing autistic kids PE. Time to create something. You get the idea.
But it’s also a large chunk of unscheduled time. And that’s where the problems start. The pressure that in combination with autism caused your depression in the first place is suddenly gone and the sun and physical work around the garden give you an extra serotonin boost. Your meds are now redundant and make you a hyperactive ball of energy. Which would be a good thing if they wouldn’t only have side effects when starting and stopping taking them. So you slowly reduce the dose before stopping. You’re overly emotional and very vulnerable. People are angry at you because you change what you’re doing to your body without telling them as if they had a right to know everything about you.
Your depression is gone and you can take a break from your meds after stopping them messed with your mind. But that doesn’t change another problem: You have nothing to do.
Sure, you still want to get better at programming in Assembly and Haskell, continue working on the dozen of projects you started but never completed and catch up on your yearly reading goal but without a fixed schedule you just don’t get anything done. Without anything to do you don’t have a reason to get out of bed. It’s a rarity to see you before noon. Your depression is still definitely gone but you’re lethargic as hell.You have an idea. You take the pocket calendar you got from your insurance company and plan your day. Thoroughly. People suddenly stop complaining about your hyperactivity. Your stuff gets done. Everyone is happy.
—— What holidays do to me and how I learned to deal with them.