Chapter 7

Inhale and Exhale

One of the last things about my brain I’m going to share with you, patient reader, that the PDA symptom list also tells me I should have, is the irksome and destabilising way in which it goes from a really happy state to a really sad state. I have an internal shuttle service that plies between the doldrums and cloud nine. The journey time will vary anywhere from a year to within an hour, and this service has been operating in me since time immemorial. I used to resist these extreme mood swings ever such a lot, but nowadays I am able to weave in and out of them, and even utilise them. I refer to these fluctuating states as my ‘inhale and exhale periods’.

My inhalation period is when I am feeling down and listless. I see this as prime time for reading more, playing a bit of guitar, sleeping for longer, observing more, essentially absorbing some of the nutrients of life. It is important that when I am feeling this fragile that I don’t force myself out of it. If I don’t feel like exercising then I won’t, and if I don’t feel like socialising then I’ll be a hermit. I just sit there and exist. I soak everything in.

My exhalation period is when I emerge from hibernation and marshal the nutrients I’ve absorbed. This is when I am more alive and productive and expressive. I’ll exercise, I’ll talk to people, write something, make a YouTube video, and find an adventure to go on. Where inhalation is all about absorption, exhalation is all about expression. One could argue that my natural biorhythm could be consistent with bipolar disorder, and perhaps it is, but this would not stop me from putting a more positive spin on it.

The trick is not to resist it, otherwise everything gets muddled up. I see life as a bit like waterskiing: the boat represents time, we are not in control of it and its engine will start and move the boat forward no matter what. How we respond to being moved forward is up to us. We are sat in the water behind the boat gripping a rope attached to the boat; waiting for life to begin. When the boat eventually starts we will either try to use the momentum of the boat to hoist ourselves upright so that we can ski behind it, or we can be dragged along in the water with our faces being pummelled with backwash. Provided we are up and out (or on top) of the water, we can make good use of the wake and glide between it, or, if we are feeling daring, we can move out of it and have an entirely different experience. We are always somewhat limited in how much we can manoeuvre, but we always have plenty of space to utilise before the boat (time) comes to an end. The poor chap being dragged along in a floundering mess is a little out of sync, and that’s exactly how I felt in school or at some mundane job that failed to touch my heart. Today, I am up and out the water, and skiing rather ably.

Another practice that has helped me immensely over the years is meditation. I know its woo and mystical connotations may be enough to put some people off, but meditation doesn’t have to be sitting in the lotus position on the floor, opposite a portrait of Lord Krishna chanting ‘OM’. For me, it is a mental technique with which one can immerse themselves in the present, quell or at least quieten the ongoing chatter in the mind, maybe even transcend or disassociate from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, and bask in a brief yet golden hush. Not for everyone, but I have been reaping the benefits of mindfulness meditation for many years now. Perhaps it’s better for a person like myself whose mind is susceptible to clutter. I like to start my day off with a quick plunge into my inner landscape and give it a good sluice. It is an essential nutrient for me.

***

To end on an upbeat note, not all triggers are negative. Some triggers, which I refer to as ‘light-hearted triggers’, don’t always end in tears and anguish. They can even be the source of amusement. It’s assumptions that always get me:

‘Oh my God I have this friend who’s coming over to hang out with us tonight. You are going to love them, Harry!’

‘No, I won’t.’

‘Yeah, you will! They’re so cool!’

‘I despise them.’

‘But you haven’t even met them yet?’

‘I can’t stand them. Never have done, never will.’ I would go on to meet said person and end up loving them. Then of course we have leading questions:

‘Harry, you like orange juice, don’t you?’

‘NO!’

‘Oh, but you drink so much of it. I saw you drink a whole…’

‘NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!’ As a matter of fact, I do like orange juice, Mother. I love it, even. But when people put words in my mouth…they will see that I have the power to manipulate my taste buds. Even people introducing me to someone is too much:

A friend or relative: ‘This is Harry.’

Me: ‘Hi, I’m Jason!’

Everyone: ‘…’

Denouement

So, that’s my life. I haven’t been alive for that long, but I’ve gotten around, and I can proudly say that it’s been a rich and worthwhile existence, so far. As I sit here and round this book off at The Beast’s house, I notice that it is just under a month until my 25th birthday, whatever that means… I try not to pay much attention to artificial constructs or points in the Earth’s orbit that human beings like to underpin such as birthdays and national holidays. I ran away and hid on my 21st because I couldn’t stand the unreasonable fuss that surrounded it. But to pen my first quarter century of life seems rewarding somehow.

I hope, glorious reader, you now have a better understanding of autism and PDA, and how they are not solely disabilities. When I am in control of my own life, I have no need to exert control over the outside world. I’m not saying that I’m ‘cured’, but I have learned how to manage my condition (most of the time). One of the most important things I’ve learned is that as soon as the world leaves me alone, then I get to ‘work’. Autism, when looked at in the right way, really is a gift to the world.

Perhaps I should leave you with something to ponder on? Am I supposed to do that…? If I am then that makes me not want to do it. Haven’t you had enough already? Are you wondering, now that I’m done with this book, what I’m going to do next? Well, I don’t know, and I don’t want to know either.

End.