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Okay. Some of this might be edging into language now.
I've written a lot about how I generally have been able to surround myself with people who liked or could tolerate me even when I present more as my actual self. I have ways of flagging, innoculating, etc so that happens. It happens best in situations where there are lots of people to choose from, so folks who aren't into being around me can select away.
Moving up here was at first not a problem because I selected into a workplace with people who were compatible. When that company went under I landed at one of only a very few places in town I could work in my field. While I thoroughly screened my direct co-worker and he's an excellent fit the rest of the workplace is not. Additionally the professional society is... extremely not, and both hit my PDA pretty hard. Note for later that the professional society is required in order to do forestry in BC.
Meanwhile there are plenty of people who I think are similar to me up here but I haven't figured out how to form community with them. Most of them are women, supported by a spouse, whose free time is during the day. Most of them have lots on the go.
And then the pottery studio started up and there were a couple folks with dayjobs who were also really interested in doing things. I was hopeful. It was and is a chaotic startup. As it falls out, though, the people with power in the situation are people who seem uninterested in actually doing pottery. One of those people at least is someone with whom I'm an anti-communicator, which is to say we completely misunderstand and badly interpret what each says completely every time (for instance, pretty sure when I tried to say I was happy to help get things off the ground she thought I was saying I was burnt out and reassured me by saying I was only supposed to come in a couple times a year, then when I pointed out the misunderstanding she said she went by what people said and not by the fluffy things they meant). The other is frequently on vacation and overwhelmed, though I think she and I are slowly learning to communicate.
And these people, for whom pottery is on par with going to see an occasional theatre event or going on a little vacation, seem like they'd like to populate the studio with other similar people: folks who make five or six things a year, who come and talk about their grandkids, who are a little uncomfortable with glazing but aren't really into learning about it. So when I come in and I want to learn about glazes and am happy to do research into them and put together a collection of synergistic recipes that don't need a huge variety of ingredients and a shopping list, or when I want to try and make sure people's work is finished before their access to the studio ends, or when I practice on the wheel a lot to reach a skill goal (which I still haven't done) they... don't know what to do with that, are suspicious of it, and functionally or systematically reject it.
That level of enthusiasm, of doing things more than on a surface casual level, is of course a deep part of my personality. So now the place I was hoping to connect with folks, to form community, where I could go and spend time and casually socialize without the demand of hosting an event... that wants to spit me out. I get along great with the attendees, it's the people running it that are the problem.
And to add just a little sting, the pottery studio is part of a nonprofit and they charge a membership fee "to make sure it isn't just a group of friends doing it for themselves" but actually serves the community. But. I'm not the community, I guess. I never really am.
So what I'm feeling is a lot of alienation, but not the cheerful kind I felt previously where I recognise that I'm different and accept that there's lots of diversity among people and I just need to sort myself into the right places. Instead it's feeling more personal.
And I think a lot of that is because my support system is kind of slipping away, and also because my PDA is overwhelmed.
But, more about that later. I think I've done well to get this far. It all feels very intense and uncomfortable and I feel somewhat helpless in the face of it. If I thought I could live in the states I'd run away to stay with my pottery mentor for awhile; she's encouraging, she appreciates that quality in me that drives me to learn things, and she's one of the old guard geek bipolypagan folks so I feel culturally at home with her.
I guess it says something that my escapist fantasy used to be running away to do canopy science where no one knew me, back when I was in a big group of people who I got along with, and now it's to run away to someone who knows and accepts me now that's what's lacking.
This is a post about impostor syndrome, neurodiversity, and power.
I've written a lot about how I generally have been able to surround myself with people who liked or could tolerate me even when I present more as my actual self. I have ways of flagging, innoculating, etc so that happens. It happens best in situations where there are lots of people to choose from, so folks who aren't into being around me can select away.
Moving up here was at first not a problem because I selected into a workplace with people who were compatible. When that company went under I landed at one of only a very few places in town I could work in my field. While I thoroughly screened my direct co-worker and he's an excellent fit the rest of the workplace is not. Additionally the professional society is... extremely not, and both hit my PDA pretty hard. Note for later that the professional society is required in order to do forestry in BC.
Meanwhile there are plenty of people who I think are similar to me up here but I haven't figured out how to form community with them. Most of them are women, supported by a spouse, whose free time is during the day. Most of them have lots on the go.
And then the pottery studio started up and there were a couple folks with dayjobs who were also really interested in doing things. I was hopeful. It was and is a chaotic startup. As it falls out, though, the people with power in the situation are people who seem uninterested in actually doing pottery. One of those people at least is someone with whom I'm an anti-communicator, which is to say we completely misunderstand and badly interpret what each says completely every time (for instance, pretty sure when I tried to say I was happy to help get things off the ground she thought I was saying I was burnt out and reassured me by saying I was only supposed to come in a couple times a year, then when I pointed out the misunderstanding she said she went by what people said and not by the fluffy things they meant). The other is frequently on vacation and overwhelmed, though I think she and I are slowly learning to communicate.
And these people, for whom pottery is on par with going to see an occasional theatre event or going on a little vacation, seem like they'd like to populate the studio with other similar people: folks who make five or six things a year, who come and talk about their grandkids, who are a little uncomfortable with glazing but aren't really into learning about it. So when I come in and I want to learn about glazes and am happy to do research into them and put together a collection of synergistic recipes that don't need a huge variety of ingredients and a shopping list, or when I want to try and make sure people's work is finished before their access to the studio ends, or when I practice on the wheel a lot to reach a skill goal (which I still haven't done) they... don't know what to do with that, are suspicious of it, and functionally or systematically reject it.
That level of enthusiasm, of doing things more than on a surface casual level, is of course a deep part of my personality. So now the place I was hoping to connect with folks, to form community, where I could go and spend time and casually socialize without the demand of hosting an event... that wants to spit me out. I get along great with the attendees, it's the people running it that are the problem.
And to add just a little sting, the pottery studio is part of a nonprofit and they charge a membership fee "to make sure it isn't just a group of friends doing it for themselves" but actually serves the community. But. I'm not the community, I guess. I never really am.
So what I'm feeling is a lot of alienation, but not the cheerful kind I felt previously where I recognise that I'm different and accept that there's lots of diversity among people and I just need to sort myself into the right places. Instead it's feeling more personal.
And I think a lot of that is because my support system is kind of slipping away, and also because my PDA is overwhelmed.
But, more about that later. I think I've done well to get this far. It all feels very intense and uncomfortable and I feel somewhat helpless in the face of it. If I thought I could live in the states I'd run away to stay with my pottery mentor for awhile; she's encouraging, she appreciates that quality in me that drives me to learn things, and she's one of the old guard geek bipolypagan folks so I feel culturally at home with her.
I guess it says something that my escapist fantasy used to be running away to do canopy science where no one knew me, back when I was in a big group of people who I got along with, and now it's to run away to someone who knows and accepts me now that's what's lacking.
This is a post about impostor syndrome, neurodiversity, and power.
