God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
… may nothing you dismay
It’s that time of year, filled with goodwill to all men, frivolity, and joy. And overwhelmed autists.
Personally, I meet it with a mixture of excitement and dread.
The festive period really is a special time of year, but it’s daunting and unpredictable. Changes in daily structure and routine, seasonal foods, decorations, and loud music. And there’s the feeling of forced happiness, that expectation to conform whilst feeling that I’m being judged because I simply don’t display my pleasure in the same way as everyone else. I’m seen as a “humbug” or “Grinch”, and yes that’s been said to my face on many occasions.
Worst of all is the expectation that everyone must be happy in the run-up to Christmas — and not only that, but you must express that happiness in very specific ways.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the gift giving and have always enjoyed the look on my children’s faces — the mix of wonderment and excitement. I love Christmas and spending precious time with my close family. It’s magical, and I’m filled with fond memories, but I get very overwhelmed with it all especially because there’s a lot of preparation.
The Christmas build up has been all around us for weeks now. I know people who put their decorations up in the middle of November. November! We have been constantly bombarded with adverts on the television and products in the shops.
As Christmas time draws near, everything starts to change. We decorate our homes, schools, shops, and high streets– all filled with festive cheer. These decorations often include brightly coloured flashing light displays, glittery tinsel and baubles with the associated strong visual impact that I simply cannot filter out.
Then there’s the “music”, or “noise”. Jingling sleigh bells often come to mind, and shops playing Christmas pop tunes. Dire when originally released, and now laced with years of memories of Christmas Past. Of overload.
Christmas is an emotional time of year for many reasons, and there are high levels of expectation and anxiety around giving and receiving presents, having visitors, and managing a change of routine. Even happy emotions can be overwhelming for some people. These sensations overwhelm me. I have often needed to hide myself away for a short time — only to be told I’m being anti-social and miserable.
Thus, family time is a double-edged sword. It’s a tricky balance between social overload and social inclusion. Facing my family en masse does not automatically fill me with good tidings, and I will cope during the event but will feel emotionally drained afterwards. The fact is I’m not unhappy at Christmas but, back in the safe isolation that is home, it ceases to be problematic.
For autists, being allowed some time out this Christmas might be the greatest gift of all.
