It’s
easy for routines and rituals to get set in stone quickly and one of the ones
that I’ve developed the past three years or so is stopping at this bagel place
near the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. I’m working my second Purdue/USAC EvGP
this year and last year, each early morning, I’d stop by for a bagel. It was
neat as there were always various other race staff inside preparing for their
day on the big track as Indy 500 practice is going on while the Ev race is in a
parking lot on the north side of the track. Anyway, I’d sit alone but it was
fun to imagine that maybe someday I’d be sitting with these other people;
whether they were mechanics or even the doctors I’d see in there. I was always
silent and invisible but being in that place was always relaxing and part of my
routine. That was, until this morning.
I haven’t
been in Indy for eight months and as I got off I-465 onto Crawfordsville Road
and neared the bagel place the sign had been taken down and the section of the
building was now hollow and the place I had stopped at each morning for every
event I work at IMS was gone. To most this would be a minor inconvenience but
to myself, well, it was emotional. Gone was the routine, gone were hearing the
old timers talk shop, and gone was the knowledge that the place would remain
the same. Change is difficult and when there’s a change like this it does evoke
an emotional response.
Improvising
quickly had to be done to decide what to do for breakfast but my day had
already been ruined. Sure, I was invisible in that place and I would go there
six times a year, but it was a part of the routine as were the people. Isn’t
this unique, especially compared to yesterday’s blog? I mean, here I am afraid
of interaction and yet a physical place of business can have an emotional
response. When I hear misguided experts say, “People with Asperger’s have no
emotions” I just shake my head and want to scream, “Ha! If you only knew!”
because I had a highly emotional response to a place.
Why a
place? Why would this create such a reaction? First off it’s a reminder of
change and it creates fear. Think about your life and the places you’ve been
and maybe there’s been a time that you returned to a town wanting to revisit a
great diner, or store, only to find that it no longer exists. Now add on top of
that fact that the place had an emotional response. I’m sure everyone, autism
spectrum or not, has had that place
that meant something to them that is no longer there. Now, add the autism
spectrum in that it isn’t that we have no emotions it’s just that they aren’t
experienced or shared in the traditional sense and that’s when issues arise.
Traditional sense? Yes. This means that the place to most might have been a
bagel shop but whilst in there I felt a connection to those in there. It was
warm, welcoming, and the average age was high but I always had thoughts that
when I’m that age I too would be in there talking about races of old and the
good ole days and, well, with the closure of the store it’s more than a closure
but rather a deletion of those thoughts and images.
My
memory words differently and is spurred on by various things but places is one
of them and if a place gets deleted it’s much like deleting the memory. Having
this system is overwhelming at times, to be honest, as so many places mean so
much but at the same time when something gets deleted it’s difficult to deal
with because I then fear the next event that will be experienced like this.
The day
dragged on as the weather didn’t play nice and not a single lap was turned
today and once the event was called for the day I drove towards Noble Romans on
10th St and this drive was one full of angst. Would this place also
be closed? I grew up just a mile from that place and their breadsticks are
divine, but would it still be there? After experiencing one loss today I was
fearing another, but thankfully the lights were on and it was business as
normal.
Once
inside I began to think heavily on this topic and how on one hand it is what
keeps memories intact and on the other it’s downright overwhelming. Intact? I’ve
called this the “associative memory system” and having as good of a memory as I
do it makes it where there needs to be aids to assist in keeping it all in line
or it’s as if everything, every single memory I have, happened all at once. My
memories would be almost indistinguishable from each other if not for this
associative system. However, it’s overwhelming because anything and everything
can be related to something else and when change occurs it is very much like
deleting the files that went along with it. This is why change is bad, even if
the change is for the better. It’s hard to adjust, it’s hard to move on, and it’s
extremely difficult to be in constant fear of losing a part of one’s self due
to things like this.
I now
wonder about those people I’d see in there each time I was in. Did they migrate
somewhere else? Do they still have the same conversations? It’s an odd feeling
to feel a connection to a place, but I do and I know I am in fear of the next
time I go somewhere that means a lot to me only to find that it, and the
memories experienced there, no longer exist.
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