I've just finished watching the first series of "A kind of spark" on BBC iPlayer. Although, this is not about this excellent show. Rather, it's about the struggle I had with watching it and why it took me two attempts to get through it.
The fact is, that found it quite triggering. Now I know it's about, and probably made for, teenagers and the struggles they go through at school and especially being autistic and at school. And even though school was a very long time ago for me and in another age of man. I still couldn't help comparing it to my own experiences and not just in school, but throughout my life, and how much similarity I could see. Not, in the details, obviously, but in the way I would constantly run afoul of people, or somehow be on their wrong side of someone, even before we'd properly met. The sheer pettiness of some of it and the hurt it so often caused me, as much by my not understanding it, as by the unfairness of it. Of how many toes I'd stood on, without meaning to, or even knowing I'd done it and how much of my life I'd actually spent bewildered and upset by the situations I would find myself in and the actions I couldn't understand of the people around me.
Of course, no-one, least of all myself, knew that I was autistic back then, because that would probably have made it much worse. But knowing I am autistic now, at least gives me an understanding of why some people might have reacted this way. How, in some ways, at least, I've never really behaved in the ways that others might find appropriate, to their position, or status, or sense of worth. How socially blundering my way through life, of necessity, includes many toes I could step on and people who could be offended.
But, of course, understanding this now, doesn't really ease the memories. Neither of the pain I did cause, without meaning to, or the pain I received. It doesn't make the life I've had easier, only easier to understand.
And that, in a sense, is what this show made me have to face. That no matter how privileged my life has been. How much easier I've had it, compared to so, so, many others. It's never been easy. There have only been moments, brief and sometimes, admittedly, not so brief periods where my life seemed to make sense and I felt, if not entirely in control, at least in somewhat of a comfort zone. That I was OK and that I could just get on with doing things my way and just being myself. Not without cost, of course, normally in hard, unremitting, work and effort. In often struggling with feelings of guilt and shame about how selfish I was having to be. Because, that was what carving out my own world felt like. Not necessary, or even justified, but selfish and almost petty of me.
And then, of course, there would always be something that would intrude from the outside world. As often, as not, something petty and officious that would dump me back into the turmoil and uncertainty. Because, you can never really isolate yourself from the world, as much as some of us would love to. And so much of this world really isn't made for us. It will always be hard and there will always be those who delight in making it harder. Those who are truly petty and selfish, in the ways that we aren't, and others who will try to use that hate to benefit themselves. It's why carving out our safe spaces will always be difficult, but also, so very necessary.
