Innocence, “Mr. Magoo,” and Aspberger’s Syndrome

By PJ Langhoff

In the moments before I was about to walk down the “aisle” to be married for the second time, (my first marriage ended due to an abusive spouse, another story), I must admit that I had my moments of doubt. Was I making the right decision? Something didn’t feel quite right. I knew that my husband-to-be was very quiet, but in the busy aspects of my then life with two children entering their teens, a full-time job, a “sudden” illness that had left the left and central portions of my face paralyzed for two and a half months, and a stalker ex-husband who was jealous I was getting remarried, I had no clear idea of what I was getting into. Unfortunately for our soon to be sanctified union, I also had no clear idea that my two and a half months of Bell’s palsy was due to undiagnosed Lyme disease entering a really “ugly” phase, since it had migrated into my brain and central nervous system. Anyway, I was able to manage a weak smile in my newly regained facial muscles for the wedding ceremony, so I was happy enough with that.

Just before walking down the garden path that was the aisle, I realized something was nagging at me concerning this union. As I waited for my cue, I quickly ran through my thoughts, in a last-ditch analysis of the pending situation. I could always back out, after all, I had at least another 13 seconds to reconsider. I did have valid concerns that my new husband was not as outgoing as I was — he is a man of very few words. He is very kind to me and good to the children, he has a steady job and close ties with his family, and I knew he would never intentionally harm us, and yes all that other stuff that generally is conducive to a marital union. We knew each other for two years before we married, but we didn’t really date. The relationship was more a fit of a comfortable old shoe. We were more friends than anything, and our marriage was intentionally practical (for the sake of the children) and one of mutual companionship. Still we entered into it with the best intentions, with me thinking that perhaps he might open up in time when he got more comfortable with his instant family. On our wedding day, I knew he was happy to be married, I was happy to be sort of smiling, and we were happy when it was over…it was exceedingly hot that day.

Naturally outgoing, I struggle to comprehend what it must be like to fear speaking to others. During the reception, I remember my husband disappearing and leaving me alone to talk to guests. I kept finding him in the corner talking to a couple he had known since high school, preferring not to socialize with anyone else. When we were together, it was noticeable that I was the one initiating the conversations, with him smiling meekly or occasionally agreeing with everything that I said. I thought us reasonably compatible, with our associated differences, but I did not realize that he was having difficulty articulating his thoughts and feelings, because life was so busy with the children and the changing living arrangements.

At the reception, I spent the night on the dance floor dancing solo with my guests, or else I was searching through the crowd, trying to locate my new husband, who kept hiding.  It was more than a bit frustrating, and a tad embarrassing. Later that evening, when it came time to leave and go to our hotel, my new husband drove up and down the city boulevard, not knowing in which hotel he had made reservations. It was nearly two o’clock in the morning before we found the hotel, but only after we stopped at no less than 4 or 5 other hotels, (and my wedding gown covered with grease from the rental car door). Apparently Mr. new husband never wrote down the reservation, the phone number, or even the name of the hotel chain. Although I was disappointed, tired and mad about my ruined dress, I did my best to excuse his behavior as a case of severe nerves, and laughed it off. What I did not know, was that this was the beginning of a very long road.

“I don’t know.” “I forgot.” “I didn’t think.” “I’m sorry.” Profound silence. Not wanting to “deal” with things. Workaholic syndrome. Unconscious driving. Not thinking things through before reacting. My husband reminds me of a cartoon character of a beloved, harmless old fellow that I watched on television as a child, Mr. Magoo. These phrases and activities are commonplace in the last 8 years of our union.

My husband forgoes basic communication like “please” and “thank you,” or “hello” and “goodbye,” or sometimes even “good night.” He will sit or stand in a room and stare at me, without interacting and call that “spending quality time.” Often I catch him sitting on a chair, staring into space, seemingly lost in thought. When I ask him what he is doing or thinking about, the answer will be “I don’t know,” or “nothing at all.” I believe him. It’s almost like he is absent from himself during those moments. I wonder where he “goes.”

He sees no reason to call me, his spouse, to let me know he is going to be 6 hours later than intended, and fails to grasp that I could be worried that something could have happened to him hours after he is due to show. My husband cannot grasp that when he lets the dogs out in an outdoor kennel without shade or water in 98 degree heat that he must be careful not to forget them so that they suffer heat stroke and nearly die (they both lived, thank goodness, but it was touch and go). Or that birds and fish and small animals need food and water on a daily basis, not just when he remembers to feed them.

Beginning a task and failing to completing it; or completing it to his standards, (which often requires it to be redone), are normal for him. He rarely writes things down, like measurements for a window, then goes to the store to buy supplies but then does not have a clue what to buy, or why he went there when he gets there. Or worse, fails to take any measurements for multiple windows and assumes that all are exactly the same size, then orders storm windows, only to find out none of the storms actually fit. Worse, he may actually succeed in writing things down, but his writing is so illegible or disorganized that he cannot decipher what he wrote, or he’ll leave the list at home, lose it, or put it in his pocket and forget that he brought it with him. He is capable of going to the store to buy groceries, but he typically will purchase the exact same groceries every time, and rarely add anything to the mix. This is troubling for me, because in jest I ask him how he got along in life all the years before he met me.

I will rarely if ever hear a compliment or kind or positive words of encouragement from him. Birthdays? Holidays? What are those? It’s not that he’s selfish, he simply does not understand or notice that there is anyone else who might need reassurance, support, acknowledgement, gifts, or anything else. It just doesn’t dawn on him. It is almost as if he is in his own little box, and there is no one else in there with him. Interpersonal relationships are an unknown planet. He admitted that he never had a serious relationship with a woman before he met me. He had a series of one or two month relationships that always ended with the woman leaving because he did not interact. Admittedly, I can see why. When I met him, he was living very simply, and I can see that he was within his comfort zone, to live that way. Life became far more complicated when he married me—an instant family, a nearly instant illness, instant court issues, and he had no coping skills. As a result, he withdrew and simply did not deal with anything. I can’t imagine how frustrating life must be for him with his limitations, because I know it frustrates the heck out of me that he isn’t “present” in his own, and our, lives.

I can suggest a behavioral change that would benefit us both for the umpteenth time, but he will still continue to behave in exactly the same manner, because that is who he is, and he has great difficulty learning new tasks, even with repetition. He does not like change, and finds it difficult to accept. When I’m upset, he doesn’t notice, but instead will say something inappropriate like, “what’s for dinner?” He is detached emotionally, and seems only vaguely “there.” He has inappropriate behaviors that are odd, and his ability to communicate even on good days is frustrating for both of us. He cannot follow directions if they exceed two or three in number at a time.

Often times he will attempt to complete my sentences for me when I am speaking, instead of just listening to what I have to say. In conversation, he will say anything, even if it’s inappropriate or unrelated, just to have something to say. Unfortunately it doesn’t dawn on him that what he says sounds child-like. He finds it terribly difficult to simply listen—he can’t, he’s too busy trying to process what he is hearing. At times, he may hold onto a word from the conversation and then formulate an entire conversation around it in his mind that is different than what took place. For example, I had a tin tray with Marilyn Monroe on it from the movie “Some Like It Hot.” The tray’s ad was in Portuguese, not English, and I was, at the time, trying to remember the name of the movie title—and I eventually did. Months later, when he saw the movie at a store, he thought he remembered that I had wanted to buy the movie, not that I was trying to remember the title. He simply could not remember the tray conversation.

He often seems disconnected from events and is unable to recall them properly, even if they occurred only a day earlier. Other times he will be convinced he told me something there was no way he could have told me, because I had no knowledge of the event. And this will cause problems, because he will “remember” he told me about an event, although he did not. Usually this will be something important, leaving us to scramble and figure out alternatives at the last minute.

He has to be reminded of tasks he should automatically do, like get a haircut. Misinterpreting directions while driving happens nearly every time we’re in the car. If I say “left” he’ll keep going and I’ll say “turn left here” and he’ll keep going, or he’ll turn right. Then when I say “oops you missed it” he will keep going for a while before I say, “well, you might want to turn around.” Or we’ll have a conversation about which store we’re going to, and then he suddenly gets confused when we get into the car, and can’t remember the decisions made beforehand. So he will ask me again to repeat the conversation or tell him which store we are going to.

And he will veer unconsciously all over the road while driving, and I have to urge him back into our lane or to turn left from the left turn lane and not from the middle of the road, or use his turn signals, or his horn. I have to remind him to look before he turns into the person crossing the crosswalk, or use his brakes when traffic is stopped in front of us and he’s barreling along and not braking when he should, things like that. At times he will have tremendous difficulty with complex situations, and/or overly slow reaction times. And then again, he can overreact immediately when someone makes a suggestion, to the point of changing his mind midstream or turning in front of a car to change direction without looking first. Instead of thinking a decision through, he will instead make a rash decision without thinking. For example, if I say we will need to turn right at the next street, he will turn into the first thing that looks remotely like a street, be it a driveway, a median, or a street (this has happened a lot). He is easily distracted and gets confused if he has to make a rapid decision. Simple distractions throw his concentration out the window.

He will hold onto a single thought when someone is talking to him, so much so that he will get stuck, and stop listening to the rest of the conversation. Because of this, he will not necessarily be able to repeat what was just said to him. Or he has trouble carrying a thought, often forgetting what he was going to say mid-sentence. He cannot seem to connect ideas into a cohesive thought process, and that is very frustrating for him, and for those with whom he is attempting to communicate. Things have a way of overwhelming him, whether it is a decision to make a right or left turn, or buy the blue shirt or the brown one, or have a ham sandwich or beef.

If I ask him to please avoid doing something because it bothers or upsets me, he is able to understand that it affects me right then, but then later on he will revert to the same behaviors, and truly be clueless that it bothers me still. And yet if he does retain an idea, he retains it forever, whether it is right or wrong. For example if he remembered that I liked something once he assumes that I like it always. Thoughtful if it’s a foot rub, but problematic if I liked one certain pair of quirky striped socks and he subsequently insists on continuously buying me quirky striped socks of all different varieties.

He falls asleep while watching television, during conversations, or while reading books—anything requiring intense concentration. In fact, in our 10 years together I have yet to see read an entire book. He has poor penmanship, rudimentary vocabulary skills, and poor grammar. Because of this, he cannot write well, and struggles to use a computer, write a report, or complete a form of any kind. In conversation, I am usually the one initiating things, and I often feel like I’m talking to the proverbial wall. I get very little feedback or response. If he does respond, he often ends up parroting back nearly every idea that I articulate, and rather than expressing an opinion, he simply finds it easier to agree with everything said. My children have noticed these tendencies, and have made comments about them. This is not done to belittle him, they just don’t understand why he is the way he is.

I have tried to engage him in various activities and hobbies, to no avail, because he has little patience and no outside interests. And yet he lives his life wishing he would have interests. He simply does not know how to apply those ideas in order to make them materialize. If something doesn’t go his way immediately, he gives up in frustration and will never try it again.

And yet he goes to work each day, and excels at his particular trade as a mechanic—that is his “one” thing he does exceptionally well. In truth, his entire life and sense of self worth seems to revolve around his job, though he doesn’t interact much with his fellow employees. He thrives in a solid, inflexible routine, and does not do well with spontaneity or adversity. He lives truly within his own little box, and although he is aware that there are other people out here in the world, and he can interact on a moderate level, he is at a loss to understand how to interact with them continually and in a meaningful way, without other people initiating interaction.

To the world, my husband appears quiet, quirky, or peculiar, and his behaviors and reactions are not those one might expect. To some, he seems aloof, closed off, and I have heard the unkind word “simpleton” used. Truthfully he is quite intelligent, and has little trouble grasping certain complex ideas, though he is quickly overwhelmed by some types of abstract thinking, especially prolonged trains of thought, or problem-solving skills outside of mechanics. He also has difficulty in areas of communication, social interaction, computation, and interpersonal skills.

As for a relationship on a married/intimate level? Well, let’s just say that we have been living separately for most of our married life—as brother and sister, and I mean on every level, and that is not what I expected when we married. This has been the most difficult aspect of this relationship, second only to communication issues. That is not to say that he cannot do more, he just needs someone to initiate every aspect of life, because he simply doesn’t think of things. He truly lives life on what I call “auto pilot,” and within a distinct set of routines. Therein within a structured environment, he does very well.

I wanted to reveal aspects of his behavior because I feel it important for people to understand what it is like to be in a relationship with someone with this form of autism. It is not a bed of roses, and for me, it is very hard work. It is doubly hard if the non-affected spouse has health issues of their own to handle, and if they need emotional support (like I do). You may simply have to find some of your support elsewhere. At the worst of times, I feel like I have married a great big child whom I now have a duty to teach, to protect, and to take care of, and I feel like I am invisible to him. During the best of times, I try to look past his quirky shortcomings and appreciate his kindness and ability to remain completely unaffected by some of the less pleasant aspects of our difficult lives.

My husband understands that the glass of milk he poured needs to go into the dishwasher when it is empty. But he won’t necessarily understand that the milk carton needs to go back into the refrigerator, and that he has to physically put it there, or that the milk glass won’t walk itself to the dishwasher. Because he can’t see the cause and effect relationship between things, he sometimes needs me to walk him through tasks, with explicit directions to follow, because like a small child, he is so innocent. And that is truly how I see him now, finally understanding that he has Aspberger’s syndrome. He is not unintelligent, not uncaring, and not void of emotion, but truly and profoundly, innocently unable to connect and communicate in a manner in which I expect him to.

Aspberger’s Syndrome (AS) is considered a form of Autism, along the higher end of the functional spectrum. The main difference between Asperger's Syndrome and other forms of autism have to do with the capacity for communication. Those diagnosed with AS often do not experience the extent of difficulties in verbal communication that others with autism typically have, but they can. They can also excel in one particular area, but not do well in other aspects of life. In my husband’s case, he is an excellent car mechanic, but the extent of his developed skills basically end there. I have no clue what kind of symptoms my husband may have suffered when he was a child, but he does admit that he has “always been this way,” and that he had great difficulty with friendships.

Symptoms of AS are varied between individuals, but usually consist of some degree of failing to understand what is happening around them, failing to understand how others feel, and they don’t like change. They have great difficulty detecting social cues and have few social skills. They are typically incapable of empathy or consideration of the sort you or I might employ. They know how they feel, but don’t understand that they need to be concerned how others feel. They have difficulty taking turns in, or maintaining conversation or reading body language, including facial expressions. They will often be unable to recognize changes in intonation, pitch, or other speech patterns, which normally give clues to the context of conversation. They may seem lacking in emotion but the problem may simply be that they don’t know how to express it.

They will avoid eye contact with others, and often exhibit strange posture, facial expressions, or have odd behavioral movements. In my husband’s case, he often looks happy when he should look annoyed, or looks wildly surprised when he should be intently listening. I often feel like he is laughing at me inside when I am upset with him, because his facial expressions are typically that he is smiling when he is upset—they do not match what his emotions should create. My husband has quirky movement behaviors, including but not limited to requiring his hands to be constantly engaged in activity. He can be seen rubbing them, wringing them, scratching them, etc.

Someone with Aspberger’s syndrome will often verbalize their thoughts, which is something my husband does constantly. He thinks out loud, and even repeats things just said as if they are new ideas. It appears that he is explaining what was just said to himself so that it registers better in some way. Perhaps that is helpful to him. But he is often accused of mumbling when he is repeating things to internalize what was just said. Individuals with Aspberger’s syndrome also may have an awkward walk, which is something I noticed about my husband right away when I met him.

Life with an Aspberger’s patient is complex, and requires kind understanding and at times, extreme patience. The most difficult aspect of my husband’s condition was all the years when we did not know the cause. I found him cold and aloof, and I thought him emotionally callous. Once we had a diagnosis that made sense however, it was far easier to accept his “flaws,” and accommodate his weaknesses. It made a huge difference for example, when his lack of empathy was now understood to be an inability, and not him simply refusing to care.

Having a relationship on an intimate level is possible, however its does take work. Be prepared to be the initiator in nearly every situation, and the teacher and director as well. If you are someone who can communicate well, the relationship can work, but you will have to find a support team to make up the deficits in the emotional, communication, and/or other departments that your spouse cannot provide.

If you are someone who does not have a strong sense of self, a relationship with an Aspberger’s patient may prove very difficult for you. It is not that the patient isn’t capable of loving or being supportive, they clearly need instructions on how to do so, and in each and every situation, those directions may need to be repeated. To his credit, my husband’s condition has been a blessing because we have, as a family, been put through some horrendous situations within the family court system due to my ex-husband over the past 10 years, and also with my Lyme disease due to misdiagnosis and treatment problems. If my husband wasn’t as detached emotionally as he is due to his “condition,” I believe that like some spouses do when the going gets tough, he would have already left this family. I am grateful that he has remained with me, throughout these tough times, even if he was limited by his abilities.

Do I find our situation an easy one to live in, especially since I am living with chronic Lyme disease and co-infections myself, and I require emotional support? Not on your life. Honestly if I had it to do over again, I would have still married him. Having a terrific sense of humor and a realistic ability to be patient and understanding helps me cope with the difficulties and frustration of living with someone “different” than how I expect them to be. Aspberger syndrome patients are capable of meaningful relationships because they may have the capacity to feel emotion, they will just not necessarily be in touch with those emotions to identify what they are, or empathize with others’ emotions to meet their needs. The non-affected spouse has to then, carry the bulk of the responsibility as well as the emotional aspects of the marriage. And this can be a heck of a lot of work, I admit.

I believe that if you can work through the communication and interpersonal deficits, a relationship is possible and just as rewarding as the next, with limitations. Nearly all relationships take work. Aspberger’s syndrome just requires effort on a slightly altered level, to make the relationship work. The lessons I have learned from living with my husband have been many—about him, and about myself. Some of the most important have been patience and understanding. Another has been that we are each unique individuals and we all have abilities and deficits, and we cannot expect other people to change to suit our needs. We must meet each other halfway and do the very best we can. And we must learn to find the good qualities in one another, overlook those less positive, and help each other to be the best that we possibly can, whatever our situation.