Life On The Spectrum: Chapter 8

In one moment at the end of the camp I hated, I instantly became a more empathetic and caring person. I also began to realize that I was not “one of them,” that I was my own person. I learned to empathize with them but I knew that I had my own potential and that I needed to evolve into a much different person from the confused self-hating monster that I had become. And I wanted to do this without surrendering my essence from my childhood. I realized that I had had an Epiphany and vowed to move forward with a whole new outlook. The next few weeks went by with me recording drum and vocal tracks for my album with my Music Teacher on Guitar including a heartfelt version of Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” testifying to how much I missed my family and friends. I spent a lot of the time on the computer for the next few weeks looking at pictures of the removal of the EPCOT Arm and Wand next to Spaceship Earth (told ya,) which was exciting.

I finally came home from camp in mid-July. My cousin Nolan had driven in from Nebraska looking for a job (and to be a stand-up comedian) in Philadelphia and was living with my paternal grandparents, which turned out to be a really good thing considering my grandpop’s Parkinson’s Disease, which by now he had been fighting for years, was starting to take its toll on him.

In August my maternal grandparents took the whole family on a cruise to Bermuda for their 50th Wedding Anniversary. On the streets of Bermuda, I was almost killed by a car (since Bermuda is a British Territory People drive on the opposite side of the street and the streets are VERY narrow.) We had a good time otherwise for the most part, though I was strangely distressed by premonitions regarding my paternal grandfather’s health. These fears were realized on our return to the US; on the first day back, we discovered that Grandpop had taken a fall and was in the hospital. What’s more, our dog Berkeley, staying with my Uncle Lee and Aunt Suzanne while we were cruising, had not gotten along very nicely with them or their two dogs of their own.

So all in all, not a great summer for me, but I entered the School Year of 2007-08 vowing to keep the promises I had made that summer: to be more open and friendly to people who respected me, to treat those with troubles with respect and empathy, and to simply ignore rather than get angry at people who bothered or ridiculed me. Faculty and other students noticed the change; in fact, the students noticed so much that before the year would end, I was elected President of the Senior Class of 2008.

In October 2007, I met and befriended a somewhat eccentric classmate with very long hair (let’s call him Dylan, again to protect his identity by not using his real name). Dylan wore a dog collar around his neck for reasons I couldn’t really understand. During my first conversation with him, He told me he had Asperger’s Syndrome, and on hearing this I was both excited and relieved. I knew logically that I was not the only person in the world who had Asperger’s, but no one had explicitly told me this out loud before. Since it was a Special Ed School, it was obvious that other Aspies were in the school and I think my parents told me about it. But I had never shared my status with classmates before, and certainly no one had actually told me point-blank that he was in the same boat. Dylan and I became friends and he revealed later that he was actually French Canadian; he would frequently have conversations with me in French which left me dumbfounded (so I guess it’s a stretch to call them “conversations.”).

As time went on it slowly became apparent that many other students I had already known had a similar diagnosis. As I opened up about my diagnosis with them they shared their diagnosis with me, which was such a relief because I no longer felt so alone in the world.

So I went into 2008 on a roll, as happy as I’d been in quite a while. However in February, after being in and out of hospitals and homes for seven months my Grandpop lost his battle against Parkinson’s disease and died with my parents, aunts and uncles all around him. The weekend of his funeral felt like one long day, with all my paternal family from Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, Nebraska and Colorado in attendance, as well as most of the maternal side of the family and a surprisingly large number of old friends and neighbors of my Grandmom whom I had never met.

As the family convened at my Grandmother’s house the Friday Night after Grandpop’s death it was a rather surreal experience. Saturday night we held the wake, which I strangely found to actually be one of the most up-beat events imaginable even with my Grandfather’s prepared corpse in the room. Because it was tough at the end, this event felt more of a celebration of his life than a mourning of his death. Sunday was the day of the funeral It was a very bittersweet occasion, I still have never really cried over my Grandfather’s death because I knew he was suffering and really was never the same since his Parkinson’s came into play. It was his time and we all knew it.

Still, the man who had shaped a good chunk of who I was had died, and there was certainly an empty place in my life. After the funeral, the family again convened at my Grandmother’s house. My cousin Nolan, brother Kevin and I took my Cousin Anne’s two sons to the local playground and watched them play for a while. Nolan seemed to enjoy giving them really bad advice. It was clear that the family would go on. As the first two of the next generation, and I knew that they and all the subsequent Great-Grandchildren, some since born and more yet to come, would see that Grandpop’s legacy would endure.

When the dust cleared from the funeral, the spring of 2008 went pretty well at school leading up to our Senior trip to Walt Disney World! Needless to say, this was a highly anticipated part of the year for me.

We spent our first day in the Magic Kingdom, which went very well, I got to ride the newly renovated Haunted Mansion, which is my favorite Magic Kingdom Attraction. The second day was Disney’s Animal Kingdom in the Morning and EPCOT in the afternoon and evening. This is an insane tactic, as I believe EPCOT cannot be done in less than a full day if that. I’d like to say I made the best of the situation, but the teaching staff chaperones were not spared my opinion.

Still, I was thrilled to see EPCOT again. Spaceship Earth looked incredible without the Mickey wand and seemed much bigger. We did Mission Space, Test Track and I went on a wild goose chase to find the temporary EPCOT 25th Anniversary Gallery, which drove my teachers nuts. Once I found it, I browsed a bit, then instead of going to the Land Pavilion and riding Soarin’ as I requested, we went to World Showcase for dinner. Since no one in the senior class wanted to sample the international cuisine, we ended up eating in the American Pavilion, which only sells Fast Food rather than regional American Dishes. I was furious, and this was getting very difficult.

The teachers decided that they wanted to see the concert at the America Gardens Theater, then eat at the Moroccan Pavilion. We students just sat around on the tile fountain, as they spent their adult time. We eventually made our way around World Showcase Lagoon back into Future World; by the time we exited World Showcase the torches around the Lagoon and pre-show music for Reflections of Earth was playing. Soon we got to the Land Pavilion most of us rode Soarin’; but when we got out, we discovered that the girl who did not ride Soarin’ got lost in the Land Pavilion. At that point, I was completely furious and I fear out of control.

By the time we found our classmate and went back into World Showcase, my favorite show in the world was already halfway through. We watched the ending from a bizarre vantage point and when the show ended the same girl got lost again. Despite all of this upheaval, I still tried to enjoy the music and the Heaven on Earth that is walking out of Epcot with the theme from Tapestry of Nations playing. We all sat down on a planter in Innoventions Plaza as a teacher went to find our stray classmate, and I was singing joyfully the Tapestry of Nations theme. A teacher confronted me and accused me of not caring about the missing student since I was singing and enjoying myself. I had an emotional breakdown and cried all the way till we were on the Transport Bus.

The next day was Blizzard Beach (a day that we could have used for EPCOT, mind you.) I stupidly forgot to wear Suntan lotion and was broiled by the Florida sun. We went to a medieval times Dinner Show that evening

Friday was spent at Universal Orlando; Saturday was a half day at Disney’s Hollywood Studios, where we went on Tower of Terror and headed to the Rock’n Roller Coaster, which happened to break down while we were in line. I suggested to the group we could squeeze in 2 rides in the time it would for them to fix the coaster, but only I left the line. Unfortunately (for me at least) the coaster started working again soon after I left, and once again I was furious.

We then went to the Little Mermaid Show when I wanted to try the brand new “Midway Mania” ride; luckily after we saw the show we did get to be one of the first to ride the Midway Mania attraction, which officially was not open yet. We hurried to the Great Movie Ride, then had lunch. We were then told we could not ride Star Tours because there was no time left. And this time I was LIVID. I left WDW in bitterness and came home unfulfilled. I couldn’t deal with being in the place where dreams come true and things going so very wrong.

Things began to bear up as I prepared for my High School Graduation. As class president, I was expected to give a speech, and with help from a teacher I wrote a speech detailing my struggles and successes through my school career.

The night of my Graduation was surreal. I gave my speech, and the then-Ms. Pennsylvania said a few words but she told me it was difficult to follow my speech. I was very pleased that so many people complimented me on what I had to say and that so many of my aunts and uncles, and my maternal grandparents were able to attend and see me speak. . The rest of the ceremony went on without incident, but this would not be the end of my Vanguard experience. I would continue to attend Vanguard for 3 more years as a post-grad in the vocational training program. I still had a ways to go, but it seemed at that ceremony that within one year I had gone from the pits of hell to the top of the mountain.