The Dino-Aspie Cafe (for Those 40+... or feeling creaky)

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This thread is for those of us who are in the 40+ age range, (or folks who feel comfortable in the company of old coots), probably having not been diagnosed for most of our lives. We can share our unique experiences and problems and whatever else we Dino-Aspies do. Welcome!

I am YowlingCat, 54 years old, and diagnosed last year. I have an orange cat named Sagan, who is a sweet butthead. Love science and music and reading. Eighteen years of school, neuropsychology, theatre technology, but no degrees.

Well, that's a start. And you?

I'm MrMark, but you can call me Mark. I'm closin' in on 50. I was misdiagnosed as NPD with schizoid features last year. I remain convinced I'm aspie though my impairment is narrow and mild. It explains so much that cannot be explained by ACOA or SAD. I live in a 450 sq. ft. converted garage in the woods. The guy did a really nice job with it. Satellite and utilities are included, so it's like staying in a very nice hotel without housekeeping. I share it with two philodendrums and no animals, but I feed wild birds and frequently see deer and rabbits and squirrels. I love my job (inventory at an acedemic library) and WP. Attended collage off and on for 10 years but still no degree. 50 hours of music, 33 hours of elementary education, assorted others.

I think I need a girlfriend, but I'm probably going to get a cat.

Your living area sounds, er, heavenly, to me. I've always lived in very small places. The apartment I'm in is the largest one I've had, with one bedroom, but I use that for storage and sleep in the livingroom. The best one I ever had was in Santa Fe, New Mexico, maybe 400 sq. ft., adobe, with a wonderful yard where I grew wildflowers and had Japanese yard ornaments. It was so quiet. My other favorite was here in Oregon, a little guesthouse on a creek, maybe 300 sq. ft. Simple and I could watch ducks, geese and other waterfowl swimming outside, and best of all, listen to the water. It was great watching the water rise and fall according to the weather. Alas, I lost that one in the flood of '96.

How have you coped with the difficulties of being an Aspie, since there was no support as we were growing up? Did you have an adult who helped you out? What did doctors say?

The first 30 years of my life were pretty hard. Then I started to get a handle on the depression and things have more or less steadily improved. Finding WP has been a big help because I've always felt like I needed to be told little, simple, straightforward things that most people wouldn't think I needed to be told. The big (deep) things I get.

Hi, YowlingCat -- I have a "sweet butthead" of my own, only I call mine "Stoopyhead."

I'm 43, am a writer, have four kids, one of whom was dx'ed with AS two years ago or so. I knew immediately upon researching my girl's symptoms three years ago that I, too, am an Aspie, as well as my younger brother (The Lizard King . I'm in the middle of my own official dx (second appointment with the doc is in thirty minutes).

This whole process of discovery has been wonderful for me. I went through my whole life wondering why I behave and feel the way I do, feeling bad about myself, embarrassed to be me. How I wish they knew about AS when I was my daughter's age. Not saying I might be an astronaut now or anything, but certain simple things that I have trouble with might not be so troublesome had I received some therapies as a youngster...

...God knows I use 'em myself , but is there an FAQ list here conveniently listing the acronyms folks use about here , as well as explaining " tests " , etc ?????????

Well, here are some

Acronyms

Hey, Cat! I'm 47 and just recently self-dxed. Like you, my uniquenesses are narrow and mild, so I am able to pass for "normal," so long as I have an escape plan prepared. Always check for the exits, ya know? I got no help growing up, just chastisement. Bad Girl, who won't hug grammy. Bad Girl, who won't smile. Bad Girl ... you get the idea. I am still angry about all that, even as I understand they had no clue. I did get some psychotherapy as a young adult that helped me with coping skills, but it wasn't AS oriented, as the dx had only just been entered into the manual at that time. And I'm mild enough it probably wouldn't have been recognized at that time anyway. But it was a sort of cognitive therapy, which I've learned is one of the few types of therapy that is helpful to us-uns.

I had 3 cats at one point, but they all died of natural causes ... now I have 2 children instead. Lots less hair on the sofa with them LOL.

I admire you and others who have such great attitudes. Hope I can get there soon

i'm 41 and self-dxed for now, until i have more issues at work... but i think a person or two suspects.

my mom was bipolar and just not interested in motherhood so weekends i spent with my mother's parents. everything possible about socializing i learned from my grandmother just coming out and telling me. things like: it's better to be silent and thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt. which fork to use when. to listen and observe for a long time when in a new situation before jumping into conversations.
my preference for reading instead of tv watching was encouraged. also playing alone was encouraged.
of course i had a miserable time during junior high school. but my grandparents again came to the rescue by getting me involved with a musical instrument that was COOL! guitar. with that i was able to survive high school, because then i just became an eccentric musician in everyone's eyes.

now i am divorced with kids and i finally got a degree in networking and communications right after the divorce. i am a system administrator for an architectural engineering firm. i fit in with them because my artistic nature makes me similar to the architects and designers, and my technical nature makes me similar to the engineers.

I am 60, the world was in black and white then, with a vocabulary of 600 words. I was an early reader and somewhere I missed learning the herd Mooo, the common identity. The herd seemed conflicted, on one hand they demanded that I be just like them, but when I agreed, and asked them to define what they meant, all they could get out was, be like everyone else. Again I asked what they based that idenity on, for I am a quick learner, and it did not seem complex.

Instead of explaining their system, values, order, they became angry. As I asked a few more questions, about the purpose of the herd, their goals, and the benefits of membership, they became very angry, then threatening. It was a, If you have to ask you would never understand, situation.

The only explanation they gave was God made it that way. It seemed I had questioned God's Will, and now I was really threatened, and the Moooing was something awful. I was driven from the Pasture of the Rightous, into the lands of poor grazing. I liked it. All that Moooing annoyed me.

I watched as members of the herd were taken out, harnessed, and made to plow someone else's field, in return they got to go back to the pasture and feed at night, for it was God's Will that things be so. Wandering through the lands of poor grazing I found plenty, and as it was a place they feared to go, peace.

From the distance I watched, the herd was regularly told they were the Chosen Herd, Bound for Glory, church once a week, with parades once a year, with flags and drums. Some of the herd was selected for high honor, by the Selective Service Slaughter House, Most of them never returned, they went to Glory. The rest of the herd was buried near the church, and the whole cycle started over unchanged.

It was God's Plan, and had been that way for thousands of years. Mostly, strays like me that survived anyway were rounded up for Glory, but they missed a few, like me. When death came looking, I was shooting pool and drinking beer a hundred miles away. I credit my salvation to a motorcycle, and have maintained a fondness for machines.

The Devil possessed one Harley Earl, a designer of automobiles. He made them in color which put large and moving spots of color in the world, that could be owned. The herd was very upset, not everyone was staying on the pasture where they were born, and anyone who owned a red convertable was driven from pastures, with their few possesions in the trunk, and most drove off into the sunset, and good ridance.

They were driven beyond the good pasture, into the desert, and some made it to the other side, to a place called California. Being from many herds, they tried to form a new one, but never got it right, how can there be a herd of strays? True to their origins, they exported color, talking pictures, that corrupted the calves. Not having real herd values, they turned out new things all the time, till change became normal.

It all became beyond control, so in an effort to maintain herd values, Pherdology was developed to identify and lable stray behavior. Like it's brother Creationism, it was God's Will for herds, dressed up as Science. It fit herd mentality, there was only one right answer, and thousands of wrong ones. All of The Herd God's enemies were labled, to be cast into the fiery pit, just like the good old days.

It was a good plan, but there were too many strays, for most of the calves exposed to color, were driven mad, and went stray. The herd would cast it's own into the pit, but they were all over, and moving fast, acting like strays who had been long on the range. Even the latest grasp at Glory, Smiteing Babalon for the Chosen People, backed by oil companies, and The Book, have not gone well.

Proper herd members stay away from color and flashing lights. The Devil built the Internet, for pornography and falsehoods, so they shun it, keep their remaining calves away, but cannot stop the strays from gathering beyond the sight and control of God's Chosen People, the center of the herd.

All of the minds so carefully labled as unherdlike, by proper and very controlled center of the herd values, The Medical Profession, of the Doctor, Priest, Judge Trinity of Herdism, now lead The Labled into gathering with their own kind. They meet on the Devil's Internet, openly speak in ways they should be stoned for, read the posting of others, and espouse the sick, warped, twisted, view that The Labled are the coolest, most observent, talented, likable, lovable, interesting, intelligent, people they have ever met.

Fifty years astray, never joined anything, found this planet, signed up within a day, it is like talking to myself, or stranger, what I once read in a dictionary, Friends, people you like, who like you. I think this fits the meaning of the word. I have no actual experiance at it, I just read dictionaries.

I will test the theory, MOUX, MOUX, MOUX

I am 60, the world was in black and white then, with a vocabulary of 600 words. I was an early reader and somewhere I missed learning the herd Mooo, the common identity. The herd seemed conflicted, on one hand they demanded that I be just like them, but when I agreed, and asked them to define what they meant, all they could get out was, be like everyone else. Again I asked what they based that idenity on, for I am a quick learner, and it did not seem complex.

Instead of explaining their system, values, order, they became angry. As I asked a few more questions, about the purpose of the herd, their goals, and the benefits of membership, they became very angry, then threatening. It was a, If you have to ask you would never understand, situation.

The only explanation they gave was God made it that way. It seemed I had questioned God's Will, and now I was really threatened, and the Moooing was something awful. I was driven from the Pasture of the Rightous, into the lands of poor grazing. I liked it. All that Moooing annoyed me.

I watched as members of the herd were taken out, harnessed, and made to plow someone else's field, in return they got to go back to the pasture and feed at night, for it was God's Will that things be so. Wandering through the lands of poor grazing I found plenty, and as it was a place they feared to go, peace.

From the distance I watched, the herd was regularly told they were the Chosen Herd, Bound for Glory, church once a week, with parades once a year, with flags and drums. Some of the herd was selected for high honor, by the Selective Service Slaughter House, Most of them never returned, they went to Glory. The rest of the herd was buried near the church, and the whole cycle started over unchanged.

It was God's Plan, and had been that way for thousands of years. Mostly, strays like me that survived anyway were rounded up for Glory, but they missed a few, like me. When death came looking, I was shooting pool and drinking beer a hundred miles away. I credit my salvation to a motorcycle, and have maintained a fondness for machines.

The Devil possessed one Harley Earl, a designer of automobiles. He made them in color which put large and moving spots of color in the world, that could be owned. The herd was very upset, not everyone was staying on the pasture where they were born, and anyone who owned a red convertable was driven from pastures, with their few possesions in the trunk, and most drove off into the sunset, and good ridance.

They were driven beyond the good pasture, into the desert, and some made it to the other side, to a place called California. Being from many herds, they tried to form a new one, but never got it right, how can there be a herd of strays? True to their origins, they exported color, talking pictures, that corrupted the calves. Not having real herd values, they turned out new things all the time, till change became normal.

It all became beyond control, so in an effort to maintain herd values, Pherdology was developed to identify and lable stray behavior. Like it's brother Creationism, it was God's Will for herds, dressed up as Science. It fit herd mentality, there was only one right answer, and thousands of wrong ones. All of The Herd God's enemies were labled, to be cast into the fiery pit, just like the good old days.

It was a good plan, but there were too many strays, for most of the calves exposed to color, were driven mad, and went stray. The herd would cast it's own into the pit, but they were all over, and moving fast, acting like strays who had been long on the range. Even the latest grasp at Glory, Smiteing Babalon for the Chosen People, backed by oil companies, and The Book, have not gone well.

Proper herd members stay away from color and flashing lights. The Devil built the Internet, for pornography and falsehoods, so they shun it, keep their remaining calves away, but cannot stop the strays from gathering beyond the sight and control of God's Chosen People, the center of the herd.

All of the minds so carefully labled as unherdlike, by proper and very controlled center of the herd values, The Medical Profession, of the Doctor, Priest, Judge Trinity of Herdism, now lead The Labled into gathering with their own kind. They meet on the Devil's Internet, openly speak in ways they should be stoned for, read the posting of others, and espouse the sick, warped, twisted, view that The Labled are the coolest, most observent, talented, likable, lovable, interesting, intelligent, people they have ever met.

Fifty years astray, never joined anything, found this planet, signed up within a day, it is like talking to myself, or stranger, what I once read in a dictionary, Friends, people you like, who like you. I think this fits the meaning of the word. I have no actual experiance at it, I just read dictionaries.

I will test the theory, MOUX, MOUX, MOUX

I'm only 36 (nearly 37) but I can see a few white strands of hair on my head. Does that make me a Dino-aspie? Please I need the Dino discount on my Irish coffee at McAspies.

I like Dinos, and it helped because my brother and sister did too. I am 49 and just diagnosed. Iwas just very quiet reserved or shy at first and then after trying to fit in from school and University into jobs I was relieved of it by being classed as mentally ill, depressed or schizophrenic and no-one wanted me anymore. I was so used to that anyway, no-one wanted to speak to me orplay with me anyway. I write, draw and paint and love languages. I am not good at maths or with computers but can get along. I have a boyfriend.I envy those with yards or in the woods. I am just moving into a first floor tower block flat, having lost one with trees around it on the ground. I also envy those with children, I could not have any.But I guess people get difficulties with controlling them sometimes. I have some friends with aspergers one good friend, so i guess that is lucky, and my family still cope with me when I return.America sounds nice.

The Dino Discount is hereby offered...good for one free cuppa Dino-joe at McAspies!*

Special of the day: Weird Al's Double Dark Extra Spacey Espresso



*(Not good with other offers.)

I'm 44, and AS is the only thing that explains what I've had to deal with all my life (and am, in some ways, still challenged by). In my childhood, the guidance counsellors at school tried to get me to be like everyone else. This was in the 1960s, when the prevailing wisdom was that being an introvert was some kind of mental aberration that needed to be corrected. But nothing anyone said or did made a bit of difference.

Of course, now I know why...

I do okay for myself -- I own my own home (a condo apartment close to downtown, I can walk to work), a steady job in a large company that has serious career potential (been there only three years, but I see no reason why I can't be there until I retire), and some semblance of a social life (most of it involving other RPG gamers, at least one of whom might also be an undiagnosed Aspergian... though in his case I doubt he's aware of it).

At work, I come across as mildly eccentric, the quiet type; my being a sci-fi geek is well known. But I compensate for my lack of social skills by always being friendly and pleasant and polite, a strategy I've been using only the last dozen years or so. So whereas before I was branded as an antisocial weirdo, now it's "He's a nice guy... a little quiet, but he's always willing to help out if you ask him." (I'm also getting a rep for being a Microsoft Excel guru, people keep asking me for help with Excel at work.)

I have told absolutely no one offline about me having AS. What would be the point? At least with sites like this I can connect with other people who have had some of the same kinds of experiences I did.