How my ability to hyperfocus and my special interests saved my life: part 1

People on the autism spectrum are notorious for having narrow and, at times, unexpected special interests which we prefer to call "special". It's also said that part of the reason why girls on the autism spectrum stand out less because their special interests are less "weird" and more gender appropriate. I don't know how weird is measured or what is considered gender appropriate sometimes (because in my experience no other girl I knew liked to talk about dolphins, coral reefs, living on deserted islands or the novels of Jules Verne) but one thing is for sure: I had both narrowed and unexpected interests as a kid, teenager, adult and I probably will, for the rest of my life. They were my anchor during hard times and put a smile on my face at the end of every single day. And knowing that I wouldn't have had them if I weren't autistic, I am SO glad that I am and I get to have them. The feeling of finding out something new that suddenly makes your heart race much like it does when you fall in love, the excitement of learning new interesting facts about it as you begin to research, the calming feeling you have when it pops in your head when you feel weird and out of place are things that I love about having special interests. And I wouldn't change them for the world.

The first special interest that I remember is a book called "The high mountains" by the greek writer Zacharias Papantoniou. My mom gave it to me after the summer of the first grade (when I was about 6 and a half) and I read the whole thing in two or three days. It was a big book and I remember feeling like I had to push myself to keep going because decoding that many words this fast was still not a natural thing for me, after all my peers were still reading children's fairy tales that had three sentences and a big picture in every page, which I always found completely frustrating. So after I was done I rushed to my mum, jumped around her and shouted "I finished it, I finished it!". She's a teacher so she knew that there's no way a child my age could finish a book this big that fast, so she said "I bet you did a sloppy reading, there's no way you remember anything that's written in there!" and I gave her the book and I told her "you are wrong, I remember every single page! Test me!" and she did. And of course, I was right. She said "huh!" and I remember her frowing her eyebrows with confusion. It was the best feeling in the world. I had just outsmarted an adult for the first time. I did not need to be told that I did a good job: I knew I did a good job. So then I asked her: "Ok, well, what's next?" and she didn't have an answer to that because that book was supposed to keep me occupied through the whole summer. Thankfully I was raised in a family of bookworms and books were never short around us! So sooner or later the next step was in my hands. And then the next. And the next. And before I knew it, I had read the entire bookcase. 

My obsessive reading of books continued like this for the next few years. I would take a book in my hands and dive in its magical world every chance I got. And once I did, everything around me including my own thoughts would get tuned out. Here's a fun little story of how much that would happen that has become an amusing piece of memorabilia where I grew up:

"When I was around 10, we moved to a new house in a new area where constructions were still happening. The house was big, much bigger than the one we used to live in, which for my brothers and me meant more playground/exploring space. There was even a basement: oh the possibilities! So one day my brother and I went down to the basement to explore and decide what we are going to do with the place. We were down there for a while when my brother said "I dare you to lock me in that room from the outside" (oh, by the way, NEVER play dare with an autistic. I may have to do an entire post on just that). Looking back to it I think he expected me to know just how far the prank had to go. Well, I didn't. So I told him "ok" and I locked him in. I asked him what do I have to do next and he said "Go upstairs and come in a bit to unlock me" and I said again "ok", went upstairs and grabed a book. Enormous mistake!!! From the time that book opened, the time just stopped and I was back to my magical little universe. And my brother ended up staying in that basement room locked for three hours. At some point he realised that I wasn't gonna go let him out, so he decided to break the door. My parents heard the noise and started wondering where it came from, gradually getting worried. They hadn't looked for my brother yet because it was still the middle of the afternoon and he was supposed to play outside still, but that banging was really frustrating them. So my dad came in my room and asked me if I had any idea where this banging could come from. I answered "I don't know dad, there are constructions happening all around us, there's banging all day long!" and got back to my book. I had completely forgotten what happened before I opened my book. I was on a whole other planet!"

Anyway, back to the special interests. I was obsessed with reading books up until I had read the entire library. At some point through that process I got obsessed with every book that included an adventure in a far away land (mostly Jules Verne's books and some other mystery books) or a stranded island (like Robinson Cruise and Swiss family Robinsons: I must have read that book a MILLION times). In fact I was so fascinated by the concept of stranded islands that at some point I tried to figure out ways to make it happen for myself and my family. The thought process went something like that: 

a) put them all on a ship on the pretence of vacations

b) drive the ship through a storm and sink it close to a stranded island

c) save them all along with the remainders of the ship and start a new life on that very island by yourselves. Job done!

Looking back to it, it makes perfect sense that I wanted that. I wanted to find a way to keep the only part of my life that made any sense to me, made me feel happy and safe: my family. But that should probably be another blog post all by itself.

My special interests changed after I finished all the books on the library around literature: one reason was that by that time school started teaching us actual interesting stuff (like physics and geography and about whales), so I switced to reading about factual things. The other reason is that I didn't know how to get my hands on more books. The school library was out the question because once I got my hands on a book, there was no guarantee that I would ever want to let it go (there still isn't). If I asked my parents I would have to get through a debate that involved me finding arguments (aka formulating words) under stress, which, no can't do. So no thank you. I prefered to sink in my frustration and slight bit of depression instead.

So around that time my interest switched to Jacques-Yves Cousteau and his diving adventures that were illustrated in a series of comic books my mother had bought for us. And from that to "the encyclopaedia of the sea" a series of books that again my mother bought around that time. I wanted to know all about coral reefs, dolphins, whales, see turtles and the sort. But oooooh! look at the time. I got side-tracked: again! So I have to go. I promise the part two won't take long! Later lovelies! :)