The Spectrum Broke My Shyness Bubble
I am pretty sure that God created me to not to ever be able to run for political office. Aside from my lack of intelligence, my horrid organizational skills, or the coveted ability to lie and smile at the same time he also gave me one other solid design flaw:
I am afraid of meeting new people. I am shy, shy, shy.
From meeting people at parties to having a conversation struck up with me by a random dude at Starbucks, I am unable to act like a mature adult during those times. In fact there was a time in my life where I had considered carrying a form letter that I would just simply hand to the poor soul who was trying to get to know me. It went a little something like this:
Dear Strange Person Whom I have never met before,
You have received this note because I have determined that you are trying to interact with me. Let me stop you right now. This is not something you want to do. I am certain that I am not the one who is trying to make this happen. It is all you...and only you have the power to stop this in it's tracks right now. If you feel that you must continue on this road of talking with me I want you to know that I will not take any responsibility for what happens. If for some unwise reason you are compelled to disregard my warning I have been advised by my legal team to have you initial this letter and give it a quick date and time stamp before handing it back to me. Thanks!
In case you are still on the fence about this whole interpersonal communication attempt you want to make with me, allow me to give you a little glimpse into what that is going to look like.
First of all, let me personally assure you that even though our upcoming conversation may only last a couple moments it is going to feel like you just spent four long and painful months with me. It has been said by people who know and love me that "one minute spent in my company is like a week in Gitmo". While you are serving your time with me your skills to maintain a conversation are going to be tested to their absolute limits. I demonstrate less understanding of how to partake in "small talk" ability than most coma patients. You will also discover that while talking with me I am prone to close my eyes for long periods of time. It may look like I am shutting my eyes to wish that a large hungry mutant bear would stumble upon us and carry one of us away into the night. It looks that way because I kind of am.
I must also admit that while speaking with me for the first time you might pick up on another little rude quirk of mine that I employ when put in a situation like this. Somewhere in our conversation I will act like I have to take a very important phone call on my cell phone. More than likely I am not actually receiving an actual phone call. One of the first signs that will indicate it's not an authentic call is if it does not actually ring.
Here are a couple other ways you can deduce that I am faking this call:
~ Somewhere in the middle of this phone call that I am allowing you to eavesdrop in on you will hear me say something like "Tell the chancellor I am telling him that the trade embargo must be lifted if we are to someday sign the treaty!" I don't actually know a chancellor, nor is there a trade embargo that I am offering advice on. I am both trying to impress you and try and get you to feel like you are interfering with global business which should compel you to leave me. On a side note: If at any point in the history of our planet I am ever required to sign a treaty than things must have really gone to the crapper. I should not be in a position where my signature means anything. I am too compulsive. I once signed over one of my children for a candy necklace. Thank goodness the courts did not find that document binding!
~ Or if at any time while I am faking my call, my phone actually rings with someone trying to get a hold of me. I have had that happen before. I regret nothing.
~ Or if I attempt to take my fake call with anything other than a phone. There are many times that I am caught without my cell phone during moments like this. I am not beneath grabbing the first thing I see and start talking into it. If you see me having a conversation with a coffee cup you can probably assume that I am ready for our encounter to end...or you can assume that I am bat-shit crazy. Or you can feel free to assume both.
The fact that I am unable to have an adult conversation with you, a stranger, is my issue. None of this is your fault. I don't blame you. Well, to be fair I kind of do because you were the one who started this whole thing, weren't you? WEREN"T YOU????????
Here is the thing. I am just an introvert who also has a soft nougat center of shyness. New people (like you) scare me. Not because I think you are Dexter, Pennywise The Clown, or worse Lisa Minnelli, but it is because of a stupid saying that has lorded over me for years. The saying I am referring to is:
YOU NEVER HAVE A SECOND CHANCE TO MAKE A FIRST IMPRESSION.
What the what??? Really??? Um, that is a helluva lot of pressure for a sensitive daisy like myself to deal with. That just means our initial interaction with one another is kind of like an audition for me. For me it makes me feel like I am sitting on your social casting couch. (ew. sorry about the imagery there..but still..why do you have a couch in the first place? And why are you wearing a robe?)
So with that in mind you will have to forgive me if I look like an awkward teenager when you begin to talk with me. Be ready for me to react to whatever early questions you throw my way with my super freaky nervous tick of alternating between high-pitched screechy giggling and yawning. It will look like this:
You: Do you have children in school right now?
Me: Heheheheheheheheheheheheheheh Heee!! Heeee!
You: Uh. Well I do. I have a guy who just started first grade.
Me: *yawn*
You: Are you okay?
Me: Hehehehehehehehehe!! Heeeeeeeee!!!!! Heeeee!!! Haaaa hahahahahahahahaha!
You: I am going to go.
Me: That is for the best.
Listen, you should know that no matter how crazed or uncomfortable I look on the outside I am far worse on the inside. Since the moment you decided to talk with me my entire metaphysical board of directors went into their panic room and left all major decisions to be made by the semi-crazed maintenance man named "Big Russ".
If for some reason you are able to survive my onslaught of early nervous ticks and creepy behaviors you should know that you are not out of the woods let. Not even close. The next phase of our social encounter is where things start to get a little weird. This little phase is one I like to call "The Zone Of Un-wanted and Un-Needed Oversharing"™
Here is what this will look like:
You: So, what do you think about all this strange weather we have been having lately? I can't remember a summer in Cheyenne like this, can you?
Me: I am going commando.
You: Er...what?
Me: You heard me. No underwear.
You: Oh...
Me: Heheheheheheheheheheh. Heeeeeee. Heeeeee! *yawn*
You: I am going to go now. Please let go of my hands.
Or how about this one:
You: Hey I was-
Me: Whenever I eat too many scallops I find my bowels become very irregular. Very. Irregular.
You: Gross. That is really gross. Why are you-
Me: Heeeee!!! Hehehehehehehehehehehe!!!
You: Are you feeling okay?
Me: Big Russ is in the house!! *yaaaawwwwwn*
You: I am going to leave now.
Me: That is for the best.
Believe me when I tell you that it is best if you walk away right now. Let's end it here without having to go through all of the weirdness. If you make this who conversation happen you are going to get hit by the awkward train...and you will be a worse person for it. You see, if you really want to get to know me it is going to take somewhere between 8-13 separate conversations/interactions with me in order for me to get comfortable with you and not act like a complete freak-o. I am sure you don't want to make that sort of commitment with me. I sure as heck don't.
Thanks for trying to converse with me and more importantly thank you for stopping. Stay away from scallops.
Warmly,
John Roedel
For a great part of my life I think I would have loved to carry a letter in my pocket around that was like this one. To help curb people from thinking they should go out of their way to get to know me. I kind of liked keeping to myself and so the less new people I had to meet the better. Not because I am The President and CEO of Super JerkFace Inc....but because I really am a shy dude.
Things are a little bit different now. It seems on a day to day basis my plan to be my own island is unraveling. I am no longer able to avoid meeting and talking with new people. Not because I made some incredible break though in a therapy session or because I became more confident in my old age. It is all because of my eleven year old son who is living with autism.
In Noah's world nobody is a stranger. As soon as you meet someone they instantly become your friend. He is interested in the things they like, how their day is going, and what they think about Pokemon'. He is the ultimate icebreaker. No matter where we are he wants to get to know the people around him. Like just a few weeks ago when he befriended a couple of college sweethearts who were smooching in line in front of us at a water park. Noah wanted them to know that he thought maybe they were a little too young to be kissing. They laughed and then he proceeded to tell them all the favorite slides he had been on that day.
Or the older lady at the checkout stand who was buying a lot of bread. Noah asked her what her name was and why she needed 10 loaves of Whole Grain. Her name ended up being Ann and she needed that much bread to feed the ducks at the park. (which is illegal and it took all I had in me not to call the police and have her put in the clink!) She asked him if he ever fed ducks before. He said no, but he does ride horses. Then they spoke briefly about how cool horses are.
For me, those two interactions were gut wrenching. Not only was I along for the ride with him on these conversations but I was the parent of the child who was actually instigating them! When Noah starts talking to new people it is something that goes completly against my core being. While he chats happily away with his new friend I am left standing next to him wondering how rude it would be to pick up a rock and act like I am taking a phone call from Daniel Craig.
What Noah does in seeking out social interaction with new folks is very hard on me.
And I cannot thank him enough for it.
He forces me out of my shy little bubble of solitude. He forces me to meet the smooching college kids and the lady who feeds the ducks. I am his wingman while he shows me that meeting new people is not as scary as I make it out to be. In moments like that he is my caregiver and I am the one who is left to model his behavior of having courage to interact and the empathy to care for the person he is speaking to. If Noah carried a letter around it would look like this:
Dear New Friend,
I am Noah. Tell me everything about you and I will ask you questions. If you like I will tell you about my favorite legos.
Love,
Noah.
p.s My dad should never eat scallops. Never. Ever.
Posted by john roedel at 8/24/2011 7:22 PM 
Categories: Autism, Life
Tags: John Roedel autism blog shyness
Categories: Autism, Life
Tags: John Roedel autism blog shyness
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