The Ski Glove

Have you ever worn thick ski gloves? Maybe. Have you ever worn thick ski gloves and stuck a pin in your finger? Probably not. Imagine it, though. Push it in: great, I can’t feel a thing. A bit further, still nothing; a bit further, no; a bit… aargh, absolute agony. The pins has gone right in as far as the bone. Ooooo.

This is what it is like being autistic when someone is getting annoyed with you. At first you don’t notice, and you think everything is fine. Then as the person gets more and more angry, suddenly you notice, and it’s full on emotional pain. The world falls apart. You might be tempted to think that with a communication impairment, there’d be a gradual realisation and a reduced sense of the other person’s anger, but it doesn’t work like that. Once you see it, it’s full on and unattenuated, and the reaction goes from obliviousness to extreme hurt in an instant.

Another similar analogy is the faulty hi-fi amplifier connection (if anyone has such a thing any more). Nothing is coming out, so you turn the volume up and up, and then suddenly – wham – full volume and everyone jumps out of their skins.

The ski glove analogy is a good one. Trying to do anything with your hands wearing ski gloves is very difficult, as is relating to the world when you have autism. When I was healed, it like was having the ski gloves removed and having them replaced with surgeon’s gloves. I could sense everything and it was much easier to interact with the world. Having said I could sense everything, that doesn’t mean I understood it or knew what to do with it. That I’ve been learning ever since.