Taking the Plunge.....Again

[Milkman (imported)]

What a thoughtful post. The main goal, however is your personal happiness, not exact medical diagnosis

[plix (imported)]

The longer I am a eunuch, the tougher I am finding it to relate to men. Of course I have never really understood the way that men relate to one another even before I was a eunuch, but it seems to be more of a problem now that I am one.

I often wonder if maybe this is why I have sometimes experienced feelings of attraction to men. They seem so opposite of me, both physically and emotionally. A conversation I recently had with someone who seems like a stereotypical male, which consisted of jokes about not showering and being called “brother,” was completely foreign to me, but apparently this is the way men relate to one another.

Perhaps my unmanly ways are why people often question my desires to work with children. The guy I mentioned also has a job working with children, and he seems pretty stereotypically masculine. There is another guy at my place of employment who also works with children, and a friend has told me that people are comfortable with him doing that work because he projects an "air of masculinity." Since stereotypical masculinity is usually associated with not being good with children, I wonder why people would prefer more masculine men rather than their less masculine counterparts around children. This same friend mentioned that he is also married, which makes people more comfortable with him being around children. My single status seems to be almost a point of fixation for her. She has brought it up numerous times as an explanation for why some people might be uncomfortable with me working around children and seems to think that I would have no trouble if I were married. I have never understood why people think that way (that children are unquestionably safe around married men) since married men can hurt children just as much as anyone else.

I always say the mental and emotional changes of castration aren’t a strong effect for me, but lately I am realizing that there have been changes in that department since I stopped taking T. The time I have spent without T is now up to a year and a half, which is the longest I have been without it. I am beginning to think of it as like a watched pot. The changes aren’t that noticeable if you are constantly looking for them, but if you come back after a great deal of time has passed, you can see that things are different.

I wonder if maybe the lack of T has moderated some of my Asperger’s symptoms like the poor eye contact and flat affect. Likewise, the Asperger’s could be why I don’t have the some dramatic outward expressions of emotion that most people report with changes in hormone levels. However, even if I don’t always express how I am feeling on the outside, I can tell there have been changes in how I think and feel on the inside. I also seem to be better at reading other people such as through tone of voice and facial expressions.

I am certainly a different person today because I made the choice to become a eunuch, and I honestly am having a harder and harder time remembering what it was like to be on T. In some ways that scares me. I was a different person back then, and I have now programmed both my body and mind to develop in this way instead of continuing on that path. Just as I would have expected my brain to continually respond to the effects of T had I never been castrated, I also expect that I will discover even more of this person I am now as time continues to pass.

Milkman: Thanks for sharing! I agree that a diagnosis would not really change anything. Some friends have told me that I should seek one because I might become eligible for "benefits." I'm not sure what they meant by that, but if they were referring to something like disability, I am not interested because I am capable of working.

[plix (imported)]

It is kind of surprising that something I rarely had to deal with growing up was bullying. You would think I would be a perfect example of a bullying victim. I was small, shy, weird, and had few friends. Yet it was something that I almost never encountered. I’m not sure exactly why that is, but I have a few different theories:

Theory #1: Bullying was less tolerated when I was growing up than it was in earlier times. I went to school from 1990-2003, which is still a relatively modern era. Evidence in support of this theory is that I don’t recall witnessing anyone getting bullied at my schools, at least not in the stereotypical ways that you see in movies and television.

Theory #2: Bullying is less tolerated where I grew up (Southern California) than in other parts of the country. Evidence in support of this theory is the same as Theory #1.

Theory #3: People were afraid I was going to become the next school shooter. Evidence in support of this theory is that during high school whenever there was a school shooting people seemed to be extra nice to me. Of course if they had known me they would have realized it would never be in my heart to do something like that.

Theory #4 (and perhaps the most likely): I didn’t react the way potential bullies would have hoped. I was emotionally unreactive in general. I rarely reacted to the way other people treated me, and the few times that I did react, it was generally to stand up for myself. I remember in fourth grade there was a time when someone pointed out that my pants were unzipped. A girl who was nearby began laughing, and I proceeded to give her what is probably the most evil look I have ever given anyone in my life. Her facial expression quickly changed, and she apologized.

I similarly stood up for myself in high school. This was the time when I had what was probably the closest thing to a single, persistent bully. There was a guy who would sometimes try to start trouble, but it was purely verbal, and incidents were few and far between (probably because I didn’t react). The most noteworthy incident was during the beginning of my sophomore English class when we had to complete an assignment where we introduced a partner to the class. He was my partner. The things he said about me were not what I told him, and it was clear they were meant to humiliate me. I didn’t react in front of the class, but after it was over I promptly informed the teacher. Later that year he said to me, “Remember in Ms. X’s class when I made you cry?” I looked at him and boldly said “No,” mainly because while I did remember the incident, I never cried. He didn’t say anything else, and as far as I remember, that was the last time he said anything to me. I later heard that he ended up in jail.

I don’t know for sure why bullying wasn’t a big part of my childhood. It could be one or any combination of these theories or maybe even something else entirely. No matter what the reason, I suppose that I should consider myself fortunate that bullying was not something I had to deal with on a regular basis.

[tugon (imported)]

I am glad to read your bullying in school was minimal. I did chuckle when I read people were nicer to you after a school shooting. Sadly for many of us our families were our first bullies.

[janekane (imported)]

After many decades of studying the relationship of autism with human society, I have gradually been carried to an understanding that, if there is a mental disorder or disease associated with "the autism spectrum," the main disease is associated with being "neurotypical."

Since the DSM-5™ came upon the scene, the proper label has become DSM 299.00 Autism Spectrum Disorder (or ICD-10-CM F84.0 Autism Spectrum Disorder), and Aspies and Auties are of one shared, larger, community of normally diverse people...

Why do I regard neurotypical as the disorder and the autism spectrum as not the disorder? Students of the autism spectrum have noticed a tendency for autism spectrum folks to be more resolutely truthful than is typical of those of the neurotypical spectrum.

So, were it up to me to label (and it is not up to me), I would add a another category to the DSM-5™, namely "Neurotypical Deception Disorder."

I had a very difficult time, from 1984 into 1986, persuading neurotypical physicians and surgeons to not murder me by mythically benign surgical neglect.

On checking medical licenses, the urologist who told me of a method that might work, and that did work, has died in old age. I shall not name that person. However, the "look on his/her face" was remarkably remarkable, when I hauled out my Elastrator and bands and made it clear that I was not going to knowingly commit suicide by biological stupidity. Once the dear neurotypical physicians got it into their heads that I was not willing to commit suicide by allegedly benign neglect, they did wake up.

Being autistic and having studied biology at college level since I was eight years of age, the neurotypical physicians quickly discovered that I could as-though dance circles around them with my much greater grasp of both theoretical and applied biology.

Could someone not as well biologically informed as I was use the method I used to get an orchiectomy and colectomy as I did? My best guess, is, "Probably not."

I think that needs to be changed.

[plix (imported)]

janekane: Thanks for your thoughts! Based purely on numbers, it would seem like “neurotypical” is the norm and “autistic” is the disorder since there are far more people belonging to the former category. I guess maybe some of it depends on how you define “disorder.” Can the majority be disordered while the few are normal?

Note: I discussed a significant portion of my childhood experiences on the blog that was part of the old blogs before they disappeared, so if you read that blog, you may have already heard some of this (and other childhood experiences I may have already discussed or will discuss in this blog) information.

I had an interesting conversation with my grandmother the other night. We were discussing the past, and I learned that it wasn’t only girls’ clothes that I was interested in as a young child. Apparently I also liked jewelry and other “pretty things.” My grandmother also told me that she was not at all shocked when I told her I wanted to be a woman (as an adult). She said that the signs were there when I was young and that she could tell something like that would happen. However, she did confirm that I never explicitly said I was a girl or wanted to be a girl.

We know of course that I am male. I know that I am male. I was born male, and I cannot change that. However, I also see, especially with this new information from my grandmother, that female would have been a better fit for me. I told my grandmother during this conversation that if I could go back and choose my sex I would pick female, and that is basically how I feel. But I also told her the other side of my thoughts – I recognize I was born male, and that I have to make the best of it.

Most of my memories from early childhood seem to come in snippets rather than the detailed memories that others report. I’m not sure that it is fair to say that anything resembling a true childhood started until I went to live with my grandmother when I was 10. I remember reading somewhere that children’s brains undergo a substantial portion of their development during the first ten years of life, so by that time it was of course too late.

I do remember that my early years were full of instability, both at home and in school. The only times I had a single teacher during the school year were kindergarten and fifth grade. I went to seven different elementary schools when I should have only gone to one (the grade level splits that make going to two or three different elementary schools more common today did not exist back then, at least not where I lived). I had two first-grade teachers, four second-grade teachers, two third-grade teachers, and three fourth-grade teachers (this was also before the switching teachers for different subjects format that is more common in elementary schools today was around, so I should have only had one teacher each year). I’m sure that my frequent changing of schools and classes did not do good things for my social skills.

While I was nothing extraordinary (I certainly was not studying college-level material in elementary school), it was clear that academic material was not a problem for me. I don’t remember this, but I am told that I read “The Night Before Christmas” to my kindergarten class. This of course would be nothing unusual today – kindergartners are now expected to be able to read – but back then it was apparently something impressive.

I am actually told that I began to read at age 2, but I tend to doubt it since that would probably be on the extraordinary side, and the rest of my performance doesn’t line up with that. Basically I am told I read store and street names at that age, but my guess is that I was merely recognizing them rather than actually reading them. I am also told that I read parts of TV Guide to my mother when I was 4.

I ended up getting sent to a second-grade classroom for reading when I was in first grade. I also remember being the “Around the World” (a popular math game) champion in my first-grade class. I was pretty much unbeatable at that game, both in first grade and in middle school.

While I don’t think that my abilities would have been extraordinary regardless, I do sometimes wonder if they were impacted by the poverty I grew up in or other factors in my home life to the extent that they did not reach their full potential. During second grade I was referred by one of my teachers that year for intelligence testing for possible placement in what my mother told me was a “gifted school.” However, since it was a public school, I tend to doubt the entire school was devoted to ”gifted” students. It was more likely a “gifted class” like I see pretty frequently today that also happened to be at a new school. In any case, I was told that I missed the cutoff on the test by a couple of points. The referring teacher, however, pulled some strings and got me in anyway because he apparently felt I needed to be there. Is it possible that if my home life at the time had been better or if I grew up in a household with more resources that provided opportunities for academic pursuits that I would have made that cutoff?

The only that my academic performance suffered in elementary school was during third grade (at least in one of my classes). Suddenly for the first time I was earning poor grades. This was during the peak of my negative home life. I am almost certain that was the reason behind my decline. I don’t remember liking this third-grade teacher (but I did like her read-alouds – she could do some great character voices), but I don’t remember exactly why. She was an older woman, and I don’t remember much about her other than her name, the fact that she gave me bad grades, and her read-alouds. I think maybe it was because she gave me bad grades without seeming to realize there were other things going on in my life that were affecting my academic performance.

I remember that the main reason behind my bad grades was not turning in work rather than submitting it and not doing well on it. I am not sure why I stopped turning in the work. Maybe I just didn’t care anymore. Going from being excited about starting school and eager to learn when beginning kindergarten to finding it unpleasant at best by the time middle school begins is something that seems universal to almost everyone. Certainly to this day I do not find the academic world inspiring (that is a very nice way of putting it). I had an extremely difficult time motivating myself to get through college, and my unpleasant feelings about graduate school are even stronger. I have dropped out multiple times, and I still don’t know if I will finish. It is difficult to feel inspired when the focus is on whether you can follow a particular “format” by placing a comma or period in the right place rather than on anything that actually matters and is relevant to life.

There is also the fact that motivation does not come easily to me when I am told that completing a particular task is mandatory, which is of course the foundation of the academic world. I majored in English during my undergraduate studies. While I love reading great works of literature for pleasure and reflecting on them, being told that I had to read a certain book at a certain time drained most of the fun out of it. Even worse was telling me that I had to write a ten-page paper on the book and that points would be deducted for not following that infamous format if a period or comma was out of place rather than judging my work based on its content. The same has applied to graduate school. While there are certain topics I have studied that I would not be opposed to reading about and reflecting on during my own time, being told that I have to read these pages and discuss them in this particular way just doesn’t do it for me.

But to get back on topic, my home life was not very stable either. The cause of me going to so many different schools was of course moves from place to place, which probably did not do much for my social life either. There were also many different adult figures who lived in the different places, which doesn’t create a sense of stability. However, since this post is getting long, I suppose additional childhood memories should be saved for another time.

[plix (imported)]

My experiences continue to provide me with a glimpse of how different I am from other males. Last week I had the opportunity to participate in a summer camp as a counselor. While the experience was enjoyable, I do not feel that I bonded very well with the boys who were in my group. To be fair, there were non-gender related factors working against me:

- The boys were older than the age range I prefer working with. There was one 9-year-old, but most of them were 11. I am at my best when working with children age 8 or younger. My personality, especially when interacting with children, tends to be very gentle and nurturing. Younger children can appreciate this, but older children tend to find it weird. I don't have the "hip" element to my personality that is needed to relate to older children and teenagers.

- Most of the boys had participated in the camp before and knew each other well. I was one of few newcomers at the camp.

- My co-counselor was very outgoing, and the boys already knew him from prior years. When I am around people who are more outgoing than I am, I withdraw more than usual. I am also not a big fan of the team thing since I prefer to do things my way when I am working with children, but in today's society I suppose there are times it is necessary when around children.

However, despite all of these factors, I could tell that my personality was different from those of the boys, and it does seem that gender was part of the reason why. These boys seemed very much like stereotypical males. They were constantly hitting one another. Boys seem to like to do that, but as I have mentioned before, I was never into fighting or wrestling when I was growing up. The boys also had a fascination with fart jokes. While I am sure that enjoyment of fart jokes is not limited to the male gender, it does seem to be associated more with males, especially with boys. They were also very rowdy in general, something that was not true for me when growing up and is still not true now. My co-counselor also had a rowdy side, although it was more mature since he was older. He would sometimes wrestle with the boys. Overall, I could tell that the boys related to him much more than they did me.

At the end of camp the 9-year-old told me that I should come back next year, which was probably the closest thing that made me feel like I had bonded with someone. This boy did have something of a sensitive side - he cried at one point and could become deeply involved in prayer. However, he was definitely all boy other than a slight sensitive side, and despite what he said, I still don't feel that he and I bonded all that well. None of the other boys said that to me or even goodbye.

This boy and I did spend a lot of time playing sports-type games, and I wonder if maybe this is what males consider to be bonding. For me bonding is more about having conversations and sharing thoughts and feelings with one another. If activities did have to be part of the bonding, my preference would be imaginative, cooperative games rather than athletic or competitive games.

It is pretty clear to me that in my job I relate better to the girls than the boys (even among younger children, although younger boys tend to like me more than older boys). Most of the closest bonds I have formed have been with girls, and this of course has gotten me into heaps of trouble. The assumption is that I am trying to molest them. Apparently if I were bonding with boys, there would be no way I could be trying to molest them.

Some have suggested that I am a good male role model, but I wonder if this in fact true. Assuming they mean for boys, I lean towards probably not. Boys need someone that can relate to their rowdiness and can teach them to channel it in a positive direction. In the unlikely event that I ever have a child of my own, I would prefer a daughter over a son because I feel I can be a better parent to a girl than I could be to a boy.

Yes, it is clear that my brain did not get the flood of T that I was supposed to get in the womb and/or during infancy. Physical proof of this is also something I have mentioned before - my equal ring and index finger length. Yet I did receive enough T to identify as male and as straight. Strange, isn't it?

[plix (imported)]

I have been reading the book "Asperger's on the Job" by Rudy Simone. While I cannot relate to everything that is in the book, a lot of it describes me very well. I suspect those parts I do not relate to as well have to do with the more common NT and/or J Asperger's varieties (Myers-Briggs NT, not "neurotypical"). I especially cannot relate to needing ritual and routine in the workplace. While I do like ritual and routine in some aspects of my personal life, I cannot stand it in my professional life. The more variety that is part of my job, the happier I am.

I recently finished reading one of the chapters that I do feel describes me well, which is called "Don't Tell Them Where You Heard This, But..." This may be in fact the most useful chapter I have read so far. It talks about how those with Asperger's often become the subject of gossip among coworkers. This is absolutely true for me, and after reading this chapter, I think I understand why.

While the children at my workplace loved me, I was not accepted by many of my coworkers. Simone suggests that those with Asperger's do not display normal social behavior, which causes them to stand apart from the crowd and leads to speculation by coworkers. This speculation leads to gossip and rumors. The child molester rumor was only one of many rumors about me that traveled around my workplace. I was pretty much the constant subject of some kind of gossip, right up until the end of the last work period.

It is a battle I have fought for the last couple years, but I think I am finally ready to throw in the towel. Simone writes the following: "Once an air of tension is created in the workplace, for the person with AS, that usually spells the beginning of the end. Many have left jobs they liked, even loved, because they couldn't get along with their coworkers."

These words help me realize that I am not alone. This situation has happened to others who have Asperger's. I also realize that Simone's words are a good description of what I have to do. This workplace will always have a special place in my heart, and I don't know that working anywhere else will ever feel the same, but it is time for me to move on. Many have been giving me the message that I am not wanted there for some time now, and it is time I accept it.

My plan is to return to what I did during my first year doing this job, which was working at a different place every day. This chapter of the book suggests that "familiarity breeds contempt." Those with Asperger's may be able to appear normal to others at first, but eventually they let their guard down and become themselves. So it seems that perhaps having people get to know them better might work against those with Asperger's rather than in their favor. Returning to a situation where I am working with strangers on a daily basis who do not have the chance to get to know how strange I really am may be for the best.

[plix (imported)]

The more I go through life, the more I am realizing just how different I am from other people. It isn’t just men, although I do feel I am particularly different from them. I think all of my life I have been searching for someone who understands me, and so far I have come up short. I don’t really think it matters to me whether this hypothetical relationship is in the context of romantic love (I continue to think that a traditional romantic relationship probably is not in the cards for me, in no small part due to the fact that it isn’t what I want). In fact, many times I have said I am searching for just a friend who understands me like no one else does. Back in high school, I kept a journal from time to time, and one of the entries described how much I wanted a best friend but was having such a difficult time finding one. I suppose that is still true today.

Because of this need to connect with another human being on such a deep level, I often find myself trying to get close to everyone I meet. In reality close relationships are very rare, and most people seem to recognize this. They don’t think everyone they meet is going to become a close friend. Lately I am wondering if most people in fact do not want close friends and prefer to have many casual acquaintances instead. I think each time I meet someone new who may be a little bit similar to me, I get my hopes up. As I mentioned in another post on this site, introversion can be especially deceiving. I tend to think that if someone is introverted, they may have many other things in common with my personality as well.

I recently met another male who seems to be on the introverted side (but lately I am doubting this because he does seem to prefer to socialize in larger groups), and at first we seemed to have things in common. I thought maybe he was someone I could get close to, and I opened up a little. One problem with me seems to be that when I am trying to get close to someone, I open up too much, too soon. Now that some more time has passed, I am not so sure that we will grow as close as I hoped. We had lunch together a couple of times, and recently I invited him out again for lunch. He ended up inviting some other friends as well, and I was quite upset about this as I intended for the lunch to involve just us two. He did the same thing again after that. He definitely does not seem to be as interested in hanging out with just me as I am with him.

It seems that most people, including this guy, love to socialize in large groups. I am certainly not one of them. I prefer to socialize one-on-one. There is a huge difference in my demeanor based on the size of the group I am socializing with. The larger the group, the more reserved I am. I am at my best when talking to only one other person. I can actually be quite talkative and energetic in this situation. But I suppose that for most people, going to a social event means inviting as many people as possible. Large group socializing is very draining for me, while socializing with one other person is energizing and pleasant.

So at this point I am not going to get my hopes up too much more than he and I will form any kind of bond. It seems that he just considers me a casual friend that is part of a big group of friends. Based on some things I have said and the way he has reacted, I also don’t necessarily think we have as much in common as I initially thought.

Sometimes I wish I could just turn off my emotions. They are so intense, and having them seems to leave me disappointed. They even get me in trouble at work. I find someone who touches my heart, and I begin to care too much then end up in trouble for not being able to respect professional boundaries that require me to turn off my feelings. Another reason I have decided to branch out to different locations is that aside from fewer problems with coworkers, there will also be virtually no risk of caring too much and getting in trouble.

I have realized that there is no one out there I could tell my deepest, darkest secrets to. I am just not that close to anyone, and it seems that I need to accept that I probably never will be. It seems that no one will ever be able to see into my heart and understand the powerful emotions that whirl inside of it. Yes, I feel that I am all alone in this world.

[plix (imported)]

It is natural, I suppose, for people to need a sense of meaning in life. Certainly for me this seems to be the case. I don’t want life to be a string of disjointed experiences that are nothing more than the products of chance; I instead prefer to discover the grand purpose behind it all. Indeed, I have never believed in coincidences. It seems to me that everything that happens to us from the people we meet to the places we visit to the experiences we endure all are meant to be. Of course, the materialists among us would argue that my perspective is nothing more than the need of my human brain to see connections among what are really random occurrences. Logically, this makes sense, but given that I am a feeler, it is difficult to allow my logical side to win.

Perhaps this perspective of mine is actually healthy for me since it is during those times when I begin to doubt whether my life really has any purpose or meaning that thoughts of suicide tend to creep in. Materialists would once again argue that it is nothing more than evolutionary mechanisms at play since we can’t have people killing themselves because they don’t think life has meaning. The time in my life when I was most suicidal was back when I was an atheist. Perhaps some people’s brains are simply better evolutionally wired than others to enjoy life while accepting the materialist perspective.

I also thought of suicide back when I was working a corporate-like job (it wasn’t a true corporate job since it wasn’t in a traditional corporate office, but it was still in the business world). I have been theorizing, and I think I understand now why most people are able to tolerate working corporate jobs. They have families. It is their families that provide the sense of meaning and purpose in their lives. They work a job they don’t particularly like during the day, but they go home to their families, and that is what gives them joy and fulfillment. That would also explain why most people look forward to time off and dread going back to work while for me it is the opposite – I dread the time off and can’t wait to get back to work (however, I was like most people when I worked the corporate-like job - in fact, I hated it so much that toward the end, I was stacking way too many days off just to get away from there).

With me being a single guy, I don’t have the family to come home to, and so I must turn to my job to provide purpose to my life. Lately, however, I have been wondering if it will continue to provide the same kind of meaning that it always has. While this is not the exclusive reason that I enjoy the job, much of what I always looked forward to was the bonds that I would form with individuals I worked with and the resulting opportunity to have a positive impact on someone’s life. With that having gotten me into trouble, I now recognize that it can never happen again. To reduce the risk of it happening, I understand that I will never be able to work at a regular location again but will instead need to float from location to location the way I did when I first started the job. I will therefore only see most individuals I work with for a single day, and I will probably no longer feel that I am having the chance to make a difference. Will I still find the job to be as meaningful as it was before? I suppose that only time will tell.

Recently I have discovered a new hobby that I am pursuing in my free time. It is actually quite time-consuming, but I am finding that I enjoy it and look forward to going despite the amount of time and energy that it requires. I am already making plans to continue doing it once this round is over. Is it possible that this could be something that will provide meaning outside of work? This is another topic on which we will need to wait to hear from time.

The good thing is that while I can be pessimistic and negative about day-to-day matters, I have always been surprisingly optimistic about the big picture. I can’t stop believing that things will work out for that grand purpose and that I still have unfinished work to do in my life. I suppose this optimism is what has kept me fighting for so long.