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wispfoxSometimes I wonder if it's apparent to other people just how much effort I've put into understanding other people. Not so much now, as I've managed to get it mostly automatic (mostly).
But...
From about 4th grade 'till sometime in high school, school was terrifying.
I started school in 4th grade, part-time. I was home-schooled until then, and went full-time in 5th grade. I had a decent amount of interaction with people my age at the time, both with fellow home-schooled kids and through things like swim team.
But people in school made no sense to me. I didn't understand body language, for the most part - my own or other people's. This is a far more significant problem in large group situations than in one-on-one, small group, or very highly specific situations (like swim team). People are generally far more forgiving of weird reactions/behaviors in small groups. This is actually probably a large part of why I am so careful about how many of the silly things in my head I actually share with other people. (I'm way less careful than I was, since I'm finally accepting that the people I surround myself with actually appreciate it)
I didn't understand that people did things like tease their friends. Everyone always seemed like they were really cruel to the people they called friends (and, certainly, sometimes they _were_ - it was middle school). I understand, and use, sarcasm now. I don't tend to tease my friends much, though, and when I do I make it _really_ obvious that I'm kidding (through both tone of voice and facial expressions. If I think it necessary, I will _say_ so). I _completely_ did not get sarcasm or teasing then. Not even a little. Tone of voice wasn't a very useful source of information at that point, and I'm really not sure at what point I realized that it had gradual degrees of information in it (I got major tonal changes, mind). I still don't get either teasing or sarcasm if I'm overtired, because both require a fair amount of semi-conscious attention paid to subtle social signals.
I didn't know what one was (and was not) supposed to do. I don't remember this specifically, so much as remember my mom mentioning it to me, but when I first started school, I did things like leave my coat on when sitting at my desk. Because I didn't know one was supposed to put one's coat on the coat rack. And I didn't understand that when the teacher said things like "If you want to get this done for tomorrow..." that meant she was assigning homework, and it needed to be done by the next day. The list of things that I didn't understand, but everyone else thought was perfectly obvious, is probably fairly large, since I didn't have the necessary experience to know what was expected of me. I doubt it's even vaguely possible to enumerate them all, since they didn't stick out in my head as unusual at the time...
I was ridiculously literal as a kid. Still am, but not quite so much. I can generally figure out what people mean when they use phrases that aren't meant to be taken literally (even if I do still frequently hear things literally first). But that's through years of practice, and a fair amount of exposure to what certain phrases are intended to mean.
School was terrifying because no one made sense to me. The learning part was mostly boring to me, because it went too slowly. But the social interaction part was a constant puzzle. And one for which I did not have enough of the pieces.
I didn't even know what to ask for clarification on, because I usually didn't know when pieces were missing. Sometimes I did, but that was fairly rare, especially early on. Sometimes people wonder why I will periodically insist that I'm an alien. I suspect that the amount of time I spent trying to understand people and how they interacted with each other has something to do with that feeling in the back of my head.
I even went so far as to attempt to be like what I thought people were 'supposed' to be like. I'm _still_ picking bits and pieces of that attempt out of my psyche, because I'm Just Plain _not_ what a stereotypical person is like (and I doubt anyone is, but some people are closer to it than I am). And I tried to convince myself and other people that I was for years and years. I think sometime in high school is when I finally understood that it wasn't really working anyway, and wasn't even remotely accurate. That's when I started to try to figure out who I actually was. (note: high school for me means ages 12-15, US grades 9, 10, and 12)
Also sometime in high school, a friend of mine (I have no idea how I managed to make friends in school before college, but I did tend to have one or two) taught me how to read body language, and thereby helped me understand what mine was saying. Very basic stuff, mind you - things like leaning toward someone indicates interest (in them, in what they are saying, etc - depending on context), crossing your arms indicates discomfort (physical or mental), etc. But she gave me one of the major puzzle pieces I'd been missing. I didn't even know I was missing it, before then. At least not in a concrete enough way for me to be able to _do_ anything about it. And from that foundation, I was able to fill in more bits and pieces of body language and facial expression. Of course, both of those are information source of which I am semi-conscious, so both are fairly highly processing intensive (not as much as translating my thoughts to words, however).
I suspect the fact that my attempt at blocking off my empathy failed sometime in high school also helped me have a hope of following when aforementioned friend was explaining body language. I suddenly had access to an information stream that I'd convinced myself was not real and hidden from myself. The two might have happened at the same time, actually - it's possible that the empathy helped me understand the explanation, or that my attempting to use the information caused my block to go away. Not sure. Perhaps some combination of both.
I spent most of my pre-college years trying to understand other people, and figure out how one interacted with them in a scholastic setting. This is likely why graduating college was such a major amount of confusion - I'd been putting too much effort into interpersonal interaction, and not enough into figuring out who I was outside of some artificial structure like school (some, certainly, since I started trying to figure out who I was in high school. But not enough).
I still have some amount of artificial structure, via work. And I suspect that this is part of why my intention of traveling around the US for a year in a few years simultaneously scares and fascinates me. I will have no structure beyond what I, myself, create.
I know I'm not the only kid to have to deal with this kind of thing. But I was lucky, in that I _did_ have people at least trying to explain things to me, when they could. Not everyone has that who needs it. Indeed, I wouldn't even know how to provide another person with that kind of help, because I don't know that I would be able to tell that it's needed if they can't ask for it.
(wow. I kept wanting to wander off to related-feeling but not actually pertinent topics. Sheesh!)
But...
From about 4th grade 'till sometime in high school, school was terrifying.
I started school in 4th grade, part-time. I was home-schooled until then, and went full-time in 5th grade. I had a decent amount of interaction with people my age at the time, both with fellow home-schooled kids and through things like swim team.
But people in school made no sense to me. I didn't understand body language, for the most part - my own or other people's. This is a far more significant problem in large group situations than in one-on-one, small group, or very highly specific situations (like swim team). People are generally far more forgiving of weird reactions/behaviors in small groups. This is actually probably a large part of why I am so careful about how many of the silly things in my head I actually share with other people. (I'm way less careful than I was, since I'm finally accepting that the people I surround myself with actually appreciate it)
I didn't understand that people did things like tease their friends. Everyone always seemed like they were really cruel to the people they called friends (and, certainly, sometimes they _were_ - it was middle school). I understand, and use, sarcasm now. I don't tend to tease my friends much, though, and when I do I make it _really_ obvious that I'm kidding (through both tone of voice and facial expressions. If I think it necessary, I will _say_ so). I _completely_ did not get sarcasm or teasing then. Not even a little. Tone of voice wasn't a very useful source of information at that point, and I'm really not sure at what point I realized that it had gradual degrees of information in it (I got major tonal changes, mind). I still don't get either teasing or sarcasm if I'm overtired, because both require a fair amount of semi-conscious attention paid to subtle social signals.
I didn't know what one was (and was not) supposed to do. I don't remember this specifically, so much as remember my mom mentioning it to me, but when I first started school, I did things like leave my coat on when sitting at my desk. Because I didn't know one was supposed to put one's coat on the coat rack. And I didn't understand that when the teacher said things like "If you want to get this done for tomorrow..." that meant she was assigning homework, and it needed to be done by the next day. The list of things that I didn't understand, but everyone else thought was perfectly obvious, is probably fairly large, since I didn't have the necessary experience to know what was expected of me. I doubt it's even vaguely possible to enumerate them all, since they didn't stick out in my head as unusual at the time...
I was ridiculously literal as a kid. Still am, but not quite so much. I can generally figure out what people mean when they use phrases that aren't meant to be taken literally (even if I do still frequently hear things literally first). But that's through years of practice, and a fair amount of exposure to what certain phrases are intended to mean.
School was terrifying because no one made sense to me. The learning part was mostly boring to me, because it went too slowly. But the social interaction part was a constant puzzle. And one for which I did not have enough of the pieces.
I didn't even know what to ask for clarification on, because I usually didn't know when pieces were missing. Sometimes I did, but that was fairly rare, especially early on. Sometimes people wonder why I will periodically insist that I'm an alien. I suspect that the amount of time I spent trying to understand people and how they interacted with each other has something to do with that feeling in the back of my head.
I even went so far as to attempt to be like what I thought people were 'supposed' to be like. I'm _still_ picking bits and pieces of that attempt out of my psyche, because I'm Just Plain _not_ what a stereotypical person is like (and I doubt anyone is, but some people are closer to it than I am). And I tried to convince myself and other people that I was for years and years. I think sometime in high school is when I finally understood that it wasn't really working anyway, and wasn't even remotely accurate. That's when I started to try to figure out who I actually was. (note: high school for me means ages 12-15, US grades 9, 10, and 12)
Also sometime in high school, a friend of mine (I have no idea how I managed to make friends in school before college, but I did tend to have one or two) taught me how to read body language, and thereby helped me understand what mine was saying. Very basic stuff, mind you - things like leaning toward someone indicates interest (in them, in what they are saying, etc - depending on context), crossing your arms indicates discomfort (physical or mental), etc. But she gave me one of the major puzzle pieces I'd been missing. I didn't even know I was missing it, before then. At least not in a concrete enough way for me to be able to _do_ anything about it. And from that foundation, I was able to fill in more bits and pieces of body language and facial expression. Of course, both of those are information source of which I am semi-conscious, so both are fairly highly processing intensive (not as much as translating my thoughts to words, however).
I suspect the fact that my attempt at blocking off my empathy failed sometime in high school also helped me have a hope of following when aforementioned friend was explaining body language. I suddenly had access to an information stream that I'd convinced myself was not real and hidden from myself. The two might have happened at the same time, actually - it's possible that the empathy helped me understand the explanation, or that my attempting to use the information caused my block to go away. Not sure. Perhaps some combination of both.
I spent most of my pre-college years trying to understand other people, and figure out how one interacted with them in a scholastic setting. This is likely why graduating college was such a major amount of confusion - I'd been putting too much effort into interpersonal interaction, and not enough into figuring out who I was outside of some artificial structure like school (some, certainly, since I started trying to figure out who I was in high school. But not enough).
I still have some amount of artificial structure, via work. And I suspect that this is part of why my intention of traveling around the US for a year in a few years simultaneously scares and fascinates me. I will have no structure beyond what I, myself, create.
I know I'm not the only kid to have to deal with this kind of thing. But I was lucky, in that I _did_ have people at least trying to explain things to me, when they could. Not everyone has that who needs it. Indeed, I wouldn't even know how to provide another person with that kind of help, because I don't know that I would be able to tell that it's needed if they can't ask for it.
(wow. I kept wanting to wander off to related-feeling but not actually pertinent topics. Sheesh!)
