Asperger's, Bullies, and Cakes

Lately I've been having a difficult time at work, which is the dining hall of a college where I hold the title of Lead Baker. It is a challenging job anyway, where my duties include making fresh muffins and breakfast pastries every morning starting at 5am, all the desserts for lunch and dinner (usually 2-3 choices per meal, serving anywhere between 30 and 500 depending on the popularity of the item), making pizza dough from scratch daily with a recipe calling for an entire 50 lb bag of mondako flour, and any catering that comes up, like if the staff meeting wants cookies or the college hosts an open house and they need 3,000 lemon bars, it all comes to me. But that's not exactly where I'm having trouble these days.

My trouble lies where it always has as an Aspergian- in social dynamics. Since childhood I have been targeted by bullying cliques, like I have a psychic "kick me" sign hanging over my head. Usually it's subtle: rude things spoken behind my back then laughed about later in plain sight, then sabotaging my belongings.

Confrontations are rare with female bullies, but I've had them. I still have no idea what to do during a confrontation- I always end up in tears. Except the last one, where I punched the girl in the nose. Actually, I still cried, because I felt bad and knew it was inappropriate. I was suspended from school for three days, so everyone knew. No one bothered me after that. It actually bothers me that the only effective tactic I've found is an act of violence- it's against everything I believe in, but none of my peaceful attempts have done a bit of good.

And it's been happening again. No confrontations, thank goodness, just people pretending to be friendly just to gossip behind my back. (Dang, ladies, if you want to know my scandals, just read my blog! The real me is way more interesting than some suppositions based on a very watered down and censored version of my personality.) And I suspect one woman who worked in the dishroom had been hiding my kitchen tools, but she quit immediately when I told the Chef something was up. At least she's out of my hair and the others have been shifted into low gear.

 This has been going on for about a year and a half, but the way girls play it, you don't even know it's happening at first. I was as friendly as possible, and I thought I could do a better job socializing than I did as a student. As a person with Asperger's Syndrome (a diagnosis now absorbed into the Autism Spectrum), I tend to be quirky, and I don't receive the more subtle communication that neurotypicals take for granted. MRIs show that people on the Autism Spectrum tend to lack mirror neurons, which identify with the person whom you are watching, helping you understand where they're coming from, knowing what to expect from them, and guessing what their motivations are, as well as helping children learn proper social behaviors and recognizing what society frowns upon. Since people like me lack those neurons, none of that applies, and my social interactions are processed through my logic and creative centers. Sarcasm is challenging for me as I interpret the literal meaning first, followed by an ascertation that it must be a sarcastic statement or the sarcasm simply flies right over my head.

 Bracketing back to gleaning motivations, mine tend to be misconstrued by others. Autistic people tend to have very pure intentions of just wanting to interact and be friendly in the only way we know how, which tends to be with the social sophistication of a young child. Aspies want to talk nonstop about their favorite interests, and have no interest whatsoever in small talk. Taking turns in the conversation is not well managed. But juxtaposed with our expansive vocabularies, people decide we are arrogant, and that we don't care about their opinion.

 It took a magic mushroom trip in 2007 to help me see a lot of this, and a long time after that to turn around habits ineffective to my goals. I learned to listen actively. And I thought that learning these lessons would prevent a repeat of my high school days. That the clique targeted me again was a real blow to my ego, and I've been processing a lot lately. But as I process these emotions, my body too seems to be breaking free of those patterns, and it feels good. But there's a painful realization that no matter how hard I try, I'm always going to be that quirky Aspie girl that the mean girls will target.