I did it. I survived a girls weekend at the Chesapeake Bay with nine of my girlfriends that I have loved, laughed and cried with, for over 30 years (that 30 was not a typo which is truly unbelievable to me). And yes, "survived" is not an exaggeration. Immediately upon arrival, before all my bags (yes, 48 hours requires more than just one bag) were out of the car, a "beverage" was thrust into my hand. Heaven forbid, my hand be empty for fear of that old high school name (think another word for "cat") being bestowed upon the empty handed one and echoed across the water for other families, (who immediately hated our arrival as we are a very, very loud group of women) to hear. Clearly, I did not want to be called a "cat" or some other equally derogatory word for someone who only drinks soda, so I did what any other high school girl would have done, I went along with the crowd.
Just like high school, sometimes you pay the price for being a follower or a crowd pleaser. My fear of high school name calling lead me to lie awake most of the night with a headache that had me Googling, "symptoms of aneurysm" at 4AM. As I lie in bed wondering who was sober enough to drive me to the hospital and who would actually believe me that this time, the hypochondriac really was in peril and on the verge of dying...again, I took a moment out of my near hysteria and lie in bed smiling at the memories of the night before. More fabulous, hysterical, laughing until you pee yourself (we are all over 40) memories, to add to the collective memories of the past 30 years. With a contented smile on my face and the glimmer of hope that perhaps the headache stemmed from the red wine (very, very, good red wine) and not an aneurysm, I decided that if I was going to go (again), that going while surrounded by my lifelong girlfriends in a beautiful home overlooking the Chesapeake Bay, wasn't a bad way to go. Being the sick, twisted friends that we are, I knew that come morning, my girlfriends would have been initially horrified had they found me "gone", but after they recovered, I felt quite certain I would have donned a hat and sunglasses and been dragged to the bar later and propped up in the corner a la "Weekend at Bernie's" style.
Just like high school, sometimes you pay the price for being a follower or a crowd pleaser. My fear of high school name calling lead me to lie awake most of the night with a headache that had me Googling, "symptoms of aneurysm" at 4AM. As I lie in bed wondering who was sober enough to drive me to the hospital and who would actually believe me that this time, the hypochondriac really was in peril and on the verge of dying...again, I took a moment out of my near hysteria and lie in bed smiling at the memories of the night before. More fabulous, hysterical, laughing until you pee yourself (we are all over 40) memories, to add to the collective memories of the past 30 years. With a contented smile on my face and the glimmer of hope that perhaps the headache stemmed from the red wine (very, very, good red wine) and not an aneurysm, I decided that if I was going to go (again), that going while surrounded by my lifelong girlfriends in a beautiful home overlooking the Chesapeake Bay, wasn't a bad way to go. Being the sick, twisted friends that we are, I knew that come morning, my girlfriends would have been initially horrified had they found me "gone", but after they recovered, I felt quite certain I would have donned a hat and sunglasses and been dragged to the bar later and propped up in the corner a la "Weekend at Bernie's" style.
Obviously, since I am typing this, I survived the night (again) only to be greeted with the smell of coffee (gag) and the sounds of trying to be quiet giggles as everyone relived the night before. I awoke with my head still pounding, but somewhat better, so I ruled out aneurysm and was greeted by my dear friends with rude comments of my all too obvious sleepless night (we have been known to have an "Ugly Wall" of old 80's photos with bad outfits and bad hair, and sadly, I have graced the wall...repeatedly). And although my "Weekend at Bernie's" remark may have seemed a bit off the cuff, I wasn't too far off the mark. I told my friends how I was convinced my wine induced aneurysm was going to blow in the middle of the night, which lead to a very detailed discussion of how my "friends" would have disposed of my body. Such concern over where they would find a rock big enough to tie to my ankle ("She's skinny, doesn't need to be too big."), or how they would get the boat out of the garage and back into the water without others becoming suspicious, but more importantly, was there enough beer and wine left from the night before to take on the boat to celebrate my cast off? They reassured me that they have NEVER discussed or considered anything like this before and of course, being lifelong friends, I believed them. Yep, they are those kind of friends. The friends who hold you up when life gets you down, prop you up when you can no longer stand on your own and dump you over the side of a boat with an amazing toast and a great party. I can't imagine going through life without them.
It really was a great weekend, and, I have to be AWEnest, there were several times, I looked around that room and thought how fortunate I have been to have such wonderful, beautiful friends in my life (even after I realized I wasn't dying...at least not at that particular moment). Friends who have been there for me for some of the best and worst moments of my life. Friends who know my fears and abuse me about them, but, who also love (I think) and accept me and all my craziness. In addition to my childhood friends, I have been equally blessed with lifelong friends that I met in adulthood. Friends that have supported me, loved me and also abused me (I really do bring much of it on myself) while traveling life's "grown up" journey. With such deep and heartfelt gratitude for these friendships, it's no wonder I had plenty of moments that weekend that I thought, with an intense, gut wrenching heartache, "How can Ryan go through life without friends?" Who will prop him up in the corner when he can't stand on his own? Who will make fun of all his quirks, anxieties and tics, but accept him and love him not in spite of them, but because of them? And just like stepping into a time machine, Denial was next to me again.
As I gazed around the room, in a wine induced head throbbing state, I thought to myself, "Ryan has learned to read, to write, to communicate, to love, and to laugh, so he can learn to be a friend, I just know it." Every obstacle that life has thrown Ryan's way, he has overcome....in time. Finding lifelong friends is just one more hurdle he has to jump, and he too, will have wild weekend parties with nine of his closest friends! In the back of my mind, I heard a little voice that sounded remarkably like Ryan's say, "Not having friends doesn't make me sad at all.", and with the help of Denial, I quickly jumped off the couch for an ice cold Diet Coke, grabbed my pounding, glad to be alive, head, and ignored that all too familiar voice. After all, Ryan has had a friend or two....sort of, so, he just needs to understand the importance of fostering a friendship and he will totally see what he has been missing.
Although Denial jumped in the backseat and followed me home from my girls weekend, that Ryan-like voice kept getting louder and assuring me that Ryan was happy and content without friends constantly by his side. Other voices of my past began creeping in too, with phrases like, "Chances are Ryan will never shout, 'Woohoo, I love friends'." and "Friendships won't come easily to Ryan." and the loudest voice of all, "I PREFER BEING BY MYSELF". Humph...stupid Denial....stupid voices...stupid autism. I decided to give my over worked, over tired, over partied brain a rest and not think about this friend business until later. Little did I know, "later" would be in less than 24 hours.
The day after I decided to throw Denial back in the time machine, where she clearly belonged, the friendship issue hit home...hard. Ryan was meeting with his AWEsome speech teacher, Mrs. P and they were discussing some of the social aspects of middle school like, working in small groups, lunch time, walking in the halls, etc. Ryan admitted to Mrs. P that no one says hi to him in the hallways at school and that although he sits with "friends" at lunch, there isn't a whole lot of "socializing" going on. Mrs P told Ryan that was ok, and that although some people don't mind being alone, other people would feel very "lonely" without friends. Well, that was when the damn burst...all out uncontorllable sobbing and there was no getting Ryan back at that point.
As Mrs. P filled me in, I gathered all my strength to hold back my own flood of tears. My boy feeling lonely made me feel incredibly helpless. If Ryan were hungry, I would get him a Jello Pudding. If Ryan were cold, I would fetch his Mario blanket. If Ryan were sad, I would console him with a "squeezy tight". I didn't know how to make Ryan feel less lonely in school. How to make him have friends. Mrs. P and I discussed how hard it is to decipher if the tears were a result of Ryan really feeling lonely or if the idea of the word lonely caused his tears. Maybe Ryan wants friends, but since understanding friendships and the social nuances and conversation that goes along with having friends, makes being alone much easier. I told Mrs. P, I would try and get something out of Ryan at home, which I knew would be almost as easy as asking him to remove a wasp's nest from the back porch for me.
As Mrs. P filled me in, I gathered all my strength to hold back my own flood of tears. My boy feeling lonely made me feel incredibly helpless. If Ryan were hungry, I would get him a Jello Pudding. If Ryan were cold, I would fetch his Mario blanket. If Ryan were sad, I would console him with a "squeezy tight". I didn't know how to make Ryan feel less lonely in school. How to make him have friends. Mrs. P and I discussed how hard it is to decipher if the tears were a result of Ryan really feeling lonely or if the idea of the word lonely caused his tears. Maybe Ryan wants friends, but since understanding friendships and the social nuances and conversation that goes along with having friends, makes being alone much easier. I told Mrs. P, I would try and get something out of Ryan at home, which I knew would be almost as easy as asking him to remove a wasp's nest from the back porch for me.
Hours later, as I approached Ryan's bedroom door, I longed for some of my girlfriend's good red wine from the weekend to sort of dull my frazzled edges. I had hoped that a good solid hour of Pikmin 3 would have Ryan in his happy place and that he would respond to my questions. I asked Ryan, why he got upset today. "I dunno." I asked Ryan if talking about friendship upset him. "I dunno." I asked if it's hard to talk to friends. "I dunno....sometimes." Then I said, ok Bud, I'm not going to "beat around the bush". "What are you talking about Mom? There is no bush in here! You must be losing your mind!" Sigh. Then I just blurted it out, "Ryan, do you want to have friends?" Pause. And then, what I believe was a true, heartfelt response, not an "I will tell you whatever you want to hear to get you out of my room response". Ryan actually looked me in the eye and said, "Yes. One." One friend. Not nine, not twenty, not three. One. Ryan assured me he had one friend and didn't need or want anymore. That it's too hard to remember how to talk to the one friend by asking his likes and dislikes and trying to remember what those likes and dislikes are and that having more friends would, "hurt my brain." Once again, I was in AWE...of his understanding, his clarity and most importantly, his happiness. Not MY happiness....HIS.
When Clueless and I were still in cahoots, I once believed the fallacy about autism, the notion that kids with an ASD, don't have emotions or feel sympathy or empathy. It's true that some kids with an ASD have a harder time expressing their emotions in a way that exemplifies that they have sympathy or empathy or care for others as much as they care about themselves. When the world is so loud, so scary and so big, it's hard for these kids to do anything, but fight for their own survival, which may "look" like lack of empathy, lack of emotions, or lack of understanding. I have no doubt that Ryan "feels". In fact, the intensity of his feelings are so severe that a little bump on the knee is a hair raising scream of "I'm dying!" (I have no idea where such histrionics comes from) and a slighlty touching moment on television can evoke stifled sobs. This sensitivity, and at times perceived insensitivity, makes friendship difficult for Ryan, but not impossible.
So, whether Ryan's breakdown with Mrs. P was truly about not having friends and feeling lonely, or if it was just the understanding of what lonely is and the power and depth of that word evoking such an emotion in him, is hard to say. I don't know if I will ever fully know or understand. There are many mysteries of autism I will never comprehend, but the choice to not have or be a friend, is by far the most difficult one for me to swallow. One thing is for certain. Ryan knows what he wants, what he needs and what he can and can't handle. One friend playing Pikmin 3 with him is his desire for today, not a weekend away with a bunch of cackling, loud, abusive friends who plot how to dispose of your body (It's hard to believe it's what I wanted?). Only Ryan can decide the importance, if any, friendships will play in his life. Mrs. P can give Ryan the tools to learn how to make and be a friend, and as his mom, I can give him the opportunity to foster friendships through play dates, activities, etc, but Ryan has to want to have and be a friend.
And even though, my mantra for the past several years has been, "What makes me happy, doesn't necessarily make Ryan happy." (repeat 10,000 times), sometimes I forget, especially when my happiness comes in the form of friendships that make me feel complete. I mean, how can Ryan miss something he has never really had? After so many years of battling Clueless and Denial and opting instead to hang and chill with Acceptance, I have to be AWEnest when I say, it still makes me sad that Ryan was not given the friend "chip". I recognize that there are so many other things in Ryan's life that make him happy and feel fulfilled and I truly love his extraordinary AWEsomeness, but, this difference, although something I can accept, is just something I will never fully understand, and that's ok. Just as incomprehensible as it is for me to not possess the friend "chip", Ryan is equally baffled by me missing the music "chip". I swear if my girlfriends don't tie a rock to my ankle and toss me over a boat one day, Ryan may snap when he no longer can stand to hear me sing one more Adele song out of tune. One thing's for sure, if that happens chances are good Ryan will get away with it. Unless there is a WiiU on the boat with Pikmin 3, I'm betting Ryan will be alone, so there will be no witnesses and no one to blackmail him later. Something to be said for standing on your own and not following the crowd.
And even though, my mantra for the past several years has been, "What makes me happy, doesn't necessarily make Ryan happy." (repeat 10,000 times), sometimes I forget, especially when my happiness comes in the form of friendships that make me feel complete. I mean, how can Ryan miss something he has never really had? After so many years of battling Clueless and Denial and opting instead to hang and chill with Acceptance, I have to be AWEnest when I say, it still makes me sad that Ryan was not given the friend "chip". I recognize that there are so many other things in Ryan's life that make him happy and feel fulfilled and I truly love his extraordinary AWEsomeness, but, this difference, although something I can accept, is just something I will never fully understand, and that's ok. Just as incomprehensible as it is for me to not possess the friend "chip", Ryan is equally baffled by me missing the music "chip". I swear if my girlfriends don't tie a rock to my ankle and toss me over a boat one day, Ryan may snap when he no longer can stand to hear me sing one more Adele song out of tune. One thing's for sure, if that happens chances are good Ryan will get away with it. Unless there is a WiiU on the boat with Pikmin 3, I'm betting Ryan will be alone, so there will be no witnesses and no one to blackmail him later. Something to be said for standing on your own and not following the crowd.
It only takes one.
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