Walking In My Shoes

Walking In My Shoes

I just read a post, On Sensory Empathy by Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg, that got me thinking: do people in general only consider the emotional aspect when they talk about empathy?

I believe that inferring another person’s emotional state based on what they say and how they act is the easy part – even I can do it to a certain extent. What is difficult is experiencing sensory stimuli as another person experiences them. When I listen to somebody speak I see a wonderfully rich progression of images – to a large extent my understanding of language is wired through the visual part of my brain. It’s difficult to describe because it’s not like watching video with the volume switched off – the images may be fleeting or they may persist, they may combine and evolve, they may be concrete or abstract. The images are the meaning to me – rather than going from sounds to words-and-phrases to meaning I go from sounds to word-and-phrase-images to meaning. How can somebody who experiences language in what I would consider to be a less rich manner ever properly understand – empathise with – my sensory experience?

And how could they understand the physical discomfort and pain that some stimuli can cause unless they can find some analogue, some equivalent within the realm of their own experience. I can tell people that I can’t stand to hear a certain sound, breaking glass for instance. They don’t know why I can’t stand it, how it feels for me to hear that sound. How it is physically painful because it overloads my senses – it is too intense. Note that I’m not saying too loud or too high-pitched – it’s too bright, like a sudden flash of direct sunlight into my eyes. Try to imagine seeing and hearing a bottle smash on the ground in front of you and – at the same time – it reflecting a flash of the full brightness of the midday sun into your eyes. You physically feel the force of it hit you like a wave. That is approximately how the sound feels. That is what I mean when I talk about it overloading my senses.

Can somebody who is not a visual thinker appreciate how I think about things? Can they develop a model – a theory – of my mind without having any experience of how it really works? I will admit that it is conceivable – after all I can imagine thought without pictures. I imagine it must be something like being blind. Other faculties would have to compensate. I have read that someone who is blind can still experience images in their mind, so I could reasonably expect them to be able to imagine having sight. But I wouldn’t expect it to be easy or necessarily accurate. In a similar way I do not expect non-visual people to be good at imagining what the world looks, feels and even sounds like to me.

I view neurotypical people in a more understanding way now that I realise this. I recognise that they often have talents in areas where I have trouble, especially when interacting with the average person in the street. They seem to be able to intuitively read other NT people’s emotions. But with me, and other people on the autistic spectrum, they seem a bit lost – a bit mind-blind. They don’t often react to us as if they properly understand what we are thinking or feeling – they have trouble with empathy. They don’t spot the signs when we are having trouble with sensory overstimulation and sometimes even add to the overload. But humans don’t come with a user’s manual to explain all this. I feel that it’s everybody’s responsibility to be open to the idea that there are people out there who experience the world in a different way: to be patient, understanding and to make allowances.

Music and Mood

Music and Mood

I’ve always loved listening to music: I find it very soothing which is important as it helps me deal with the stresses that lead to shutdown or meltdown. My tastes run right through the spectrum from heavy and fast to light and slow and include such styles as heavy metal, blues, classical, folk and even some chart pop. In short, I’ll listen to almost anything as long as it has a structure to its rhythm and melody and it fits my current mood.

When I’m in certain frames of mind I get the urge to listen to a particular track or album. For instance if I’m agitated and I want to relax I might want to listen to a slower piece such as Echoes by Pink Floyd. Now this particular track is over 20 minutes long and once I start listening to it I can’t be interrupted or there’s a risk of a meltdown. I put my headphones on, cue the track, make sure I’m sitting or lying comfortably and press play. I tune out my surroundings and immerse myself in the music, experiencing the sensations it evokes. These are primarily physical sensations with any emotional sensations being a result of these rather than directly from the music.

Listening to Echoes the primary sensation is of floating with a wave-like ebb and flow that varies in intensity with the music. I also get visual impressions: shapes, colours, textures, movement. The high-pitched pings that start the track are bright white pulses in the middle of my field of vision that expand and fade like ripples from a raindrop falling on a still pool of water. Sudden loud instrumental sounds that burst in on the underlying melody are broad, bright oblique lines like a cross between lightning and bold strokes with a paintbrush. Other parts of the track call up pictures akin to waves breaking on a shore. It’s difficult to put the sensations into words accurately because of their complexity.

I never pay much conscious attention to the lyrics. I (mostly) hear the words but don’t think about the meaning at all: I’m too busy feeling the music and would have to disconnect to some degree to think about the semantic content. This would interfere with my enjoyment. In effect I treat any vocals as just another instrument. In this I differ significantly from my neurotypical [NT] wife. She will always listen to the words and this will have an emotional effect on her that I just don’t experience.

The way I lose myself in music has a similar effect to stimming. I find both to be calming and comforting: the fact that they occupy my conscious mind with rhythmic physical sensations is a definite parallel. This is how I can relax to a thrash metal album like Sound of White Noise by Anthrax just as well as I can to a “mellow” song like Albatross by Fleetwood Mac. I know from experience that this confuses a lot of NT folks who can have very different reactions to different kinds of music.

Letters Have Colour

Letters Have Colour

I realised some years ago that I associate colours with particular letters. I don’t know how common this is amongst people with Aspergers or whether it is even related. Some colour-letter associations are stronger for me than others:

  • A is always bright red. The following letters then graduate through orange to yellow.
  • M and letters around it are blue.
  • O, P and Q are purple.
  • S and T are green. R doesn’t have a strong association.
  • U is brown.
  • V through Z start mid-grey and get darker.

If I see one of those letters in a different colour it feels wrong and makes me uncomfortable. Strangely, I don’t have any similar associations for numbers or words. I wonder whether other Aspies experience anything similar?