Keeping Your Volcano From Erupting

I was thinking, this morning, about something someone at work said to me awhile back, revolving around an incident where a customer had been extremely nasty to one of our cashiers and made her cry. The remark that was made to me was…”I think that is the first time I have ever seen you get angry.” To me, that remark said A JOB WELL DONE. I have been there seven years and that was my first “noticeable slip” in the old anger department.

There are certain qualities stemming from having Aspergers that I do not readily admit to having. However, since part of my reason for blogging is to relate to others with Asperger’s, I will, therefore, let the proverbial cat out of the bag. I do indeed, like many fellow Aspergians, have a horrible temper. I do not try to conceal it out of shame, but because I know that when someone displays bad temperament, it makes me very uneasy and creates a lot of  anxiety and oftentimes fear for me and that is not something I wish to “put out into the universe” or make others even more wary of being around me and worry that others might be afraid of me, which I would never want.

Although anger and violence often go hand-in-hand, I am not a violent person, unless you are harming someone I love, then, it is all over for you, but I do become angry, quite frequently and often severely, though not usually as a result of what triggers anger in “normal” people, which I find comforting in a way, knowing that it is a result of the Aspergers and that I am not just some flaming, hot-head douche.

Some of the anger stems from the frequently overwhelming frustration that Asperger’s contributes to life but for the most part, the anger and ‘flash temper’ are a result of sensory issues. For whatever reason, I cannot give you a scientific explanation (which pains me say, as I LOVE scientific explanations), unpleasant sensory elements tend to niggle that portion of the brain where anger dwells.

Bizarre as it may sound, perfume can infuriate me…one whiff of cloying, over-applied perfume or aftershave and I feel that internal volcano beginning to churn. At that point, I can either go with my Aspergian instinct and say to the offender…Why in the hell would come in here smelling like you marinated overnight in Back Woods Off and stink up the whole damn place” or I can go with one of the “tricks of the trade” I have worked on over the years. I can tell you right now,  from personal experience, that is the best option.

High-pitched, squeaky noises or sudden loud noises immediately awaken my intern Vesuvius. Those types of sound are not only painful, they are maddening. Certain types of music have that same, unpleasant result. Jazz is something you will never find in my eclectic music collection…to me, it is an infuriating, chaotic mess, no offense to the jazz musicians of the world, I know you are quite talented. Not all types of  jazz, just the kind where it sounds like ten different songs are being played at the same time.  One day at work, someone had put the piped in music on the jazz station and I almost broke a speed record getting to the back of the building in order to change the station.

Bright lights do not set too well with me either, as they tend to be borderline torturous and I cannot tell you how many times I have privately blown a gasket from uncomfortable clothing or worst of all, the dreaded clothing tag that I failed to remove. I have been told that sounds “crazy” and though it may, I cannot adequately relay the degree of pain and irritation that clothing tags or certain material can evoke. These things that run afoul of the sensory preceptors create intense anger and big problems, if one does not develop a means to contain or diffuse the anger.

As a child, it was a constant source of trouble and punishment for me. I had several nicknames, including The Imp and The Hornet. Not very flattering, but pretty much accurate. Our entire household was a vicious cycle of anger a great deal of the time, stemming from a miasma of elements, including alcoholism and mental illness. My contributions did nothing to improve the situation. I was told that I got mad “for no good reason”, deemed to be hateful and grouchy and was ordered to do something about my temper. Ordering a child to do something about their temper is like ordering your dog to drive your car, it is ridiculous.

For many years, I trained myself to merely mask the anger, so as to avoid making a complete fool of  myself and not wishing to be considered a source of trouble and that worked out to a certain degree. However, a few years back, I had a rather life-shattering event that so distressed me that I could no longer mask the anger or just about any other part of the Asperger’s and I had to start over, from scratch.

This time, I had a different game plan. Instead of merely masking the anger, it was my desire to develop a means to dissipate the anger.  That my friends, is where a photographic memory can truly come in handy. I trained myself, when those feelings of anger begin to surface and that “lava” begins to boil, I switch my thoughts from the current situation to a memory that evokes peace and serenity. It may be the sight and sound of  a mountain stream, or recalling the sound of my Grandmother singing or the wonderful smell of tangerines. I have a plethora of them and boy howdy, they sure do come in handy.

For those of you who have the same issue, I hope you too can find creative, useful ways to help dissipate the anger. As we tend to have big brains, I feel sure that you can. For those who see us being angry for no apparent reason, believe me, there is a reason.