Two’s a crowd; three’s a riot: My reflections on social interactions

As a teenager, I got my first ever social breakthrough when I joined three other boys in my school to form a contemporary Christian acappella boyband. It was an incredibly huge step for me as I transitioned from spending time alone studying or sleeping to moving as part of a group, singing, rehearsing and conversing. The group was made up of Nelson, the very first friend I made in that school, Johnny, the group leader/manager/ trainer, and Godwin, who was one year behind us although he was older then us by a couple of years. I absolutely adored Nelson and I was getting to know Johnny, who was quite loud but friendly. He was the type that would call you names and appear to slag you off, but in a joking way. At first, I couldn’t pick up the signal that he was joking (broken antenna) that is why it took me so long to warm up to him.

  Godwin was the one I least bonded with, partly because I rarely extended my friendships outside my year group and partly because I found him somewhat confrontational, aggressive and intimidating. I was aware that I was the only one to think of him that way because he was popular with everybody else so it must have been me. Anytime we had an argument, he would bombard me with unexpected questions to which I wouldn’t have a ready script and I would look so stupid. Needless to say, I kept interactions with him to a minimum.

People liked our group and there had never been any such concept in the school before. It was at a time where boybands like Boyz2Men were hitting the charts. We sounded a bit like them (true!) and we would sing at assemblies, church services and other whole school events. After singing, the fans would mob the group to chat with them… minus me of course. It would seem they were allergic to me, even though I was the lead singer and had been tipped by some as the best sounding singer. I also felt like the odd one out, the weakest link in the group because the other three had been close friends for years, nurturing and ‘setting’ their friendship on a daily basis. I, on the other hand, felt like an outsider. They often spoke about things that happened before my entrance into the group and I often did not understand what they were talking about.

I also realised that I could chat with each member of the group individually (Except with Godwin, from whom I kept a safe but cordial distance). However, whenever the group was complete, I kept mum and became a listener. To his day, I am unable to keep a conversation with more than one person at a time. As soon as another person joins in, my listening mode kicks in, regardless of my familiarity with both interlocutors. Perhaps, could it be an off-shoot of my selective mutism? I recently found out during my reading of Tony Atwood’s book that the autistic person’s brain is sensitive to all the  connections it makes with the people they are engaged with in conversation.  During my reflections I realised that:

·         In a conversation with 1 other person, only 1 connection is made( from myself to person A)

·          In a conversation with 2 other people, 3 connections are made( from myself to person A, self to person B, person A to person B)

·         In a 4 way conversation, 6 connections are made

·         5 way conversation- 10 connections

In other words, the more people present, the harder the autistic brain works. This sequence of numbers (1,3,6,10,15…) are known as Triangular numbers. To find the number of connections my brain makes for a given number of participants, I use the formula:

Xn=n(n+1)/2-n where  n=number of people in the conversation and Xn=number of connections my brain has to make.

For example, I came home  from work one day to find a full house. We had surprise guests: my in-laws and their cousins had come to see our new baby: in total, 6 people plus myself, that makes 7 people.

The number of  connections to be made with 7 people would be X7.

So: X7=7(7+1)/2-7

       X7= (7x8)/2-7

     X7= 56/2-7

X7= 28-7

X7=21

My brain made 21 connections on that day…I went into shutdown mode the minute I entered the room…

 So whenever we had a rehearsal in the group, my brain would labour through 6 connections.

Back to my story…When we completed secondary school, we devised a plan to meet in order to keep the group and the friendship alive because in 1997 Africa, mobile phones were not as common as they are today. Email and the internet were unheard of. I was the only one without a landline at home, though I still remember Nelson’s then landline number (50-66-99). We would normally meet at our old school, in Nelson’s house or Johnny’s house. After every practice meeting or performance we would plan the date and venue for our next meeting, which usually went well… until I once mustered the courage to suggest my house as a practice venue.

On the eve of the practice, I could hardly sleep. I was so excited to accommodate my friends… the people in my area would see that I had friends too and that would mean a lot to me and my self -image. I was seen as the loner in the area. Also, my family would hear me sing with my team for the very first time. I just couldn’t wait…but deep inside there was this “what if” lurking in the back of my mind…what if they failed to turn up?

On the D day, I put on my best clothes. I had cleaned up my room, where the rehearsal was due to take place. I’d arranged my collection of cassettes in the order in which I acquired each of them. All my cassettes were from a specific record label that had a dove as their logo. All the doves were lined up in three rows and in several columns. I just sat there, 3 hours before time, in the hope that Nelson would turn up earlier than the others so we could catch up On our friendship. Whenever I went to an unfamiliar place, I would set off earlier than scheduled because of Topopragnosia (place blindness) and the prospect of losing my way. I expected my band to do the same. I waited. And waited. And waited. The meeting was at midday. It was now 10 pm. No sign of the boys yet…I sat alone on a chair in the middle of the room, waiting for who would turn up first. I was terrified it would be Godwin. We had so little in common it would seem painfully awkward for the two of us to be sitting all alone in a room, staring into each other's face for any amount of time. I noticed one of my cassettes had an inlay card that was slightly askew, creating an uncomfortably discord and disturbance in my carefully regimented filing system. I adjusted it. I wanted everything to be perfect.

Finally, after 2 more hours of sitting on a straight wooden chair, the clock struck midday. My sister had made some aromatic Jolloff ricefor my guests. I was hungry and wanted to eat. But I was so tensed up and was unwilling to eat without my friends. As I waited hungrily, there came a knock at our iron gate that set the dogs in barking frenzy. To me it was a refreshing sound, comparable to the first lap of water by a thirsty race horse. I looked through my window as our caretaker opened the gate. Who would it be? Nelson, Johnny or Godwin…maybe all the three of them?

Neither. It was my sister’s annoying then boyfriend. He had a big round head, and big round glasses that would later remind me of the cartoon version of the Halifax man. After 30 minutes, there was another knock at the gate. By then, my anxiety levels had shot through the roof because it was nearly 1 pm.   Looked through the window. Who was it? Yep! You guessed it right! My sister’s annoying boyfriend again. He had popped out to the shops, unknown to me. The expression and half smile on his face made it seem as though some mad scientist had used a tin opener to cut round his cranium, taken his brain out and done an amazing job of sealing the skull back together again with invisible glue to the highest standard of cosmetic surgery wizardry.

 2 o’clock, 3 o’clock, 4 o’clock …I was in full panic mode. I had lost appetite and was no longer hungry. I sat and wrung my fingers, bit my lips and popped my joints (stimming) . I had butterflies in my stomach. Were they lost? Had something happened to them. By 6 o clock, I was sat in the same position when my sister and her boyfriend came in to tease me. I was advised to relax because they wouldn’t come.

They never did turn up. It was a wasted day. Spent entirely sat on a wooden chair, with the exception of the odd loo break. The torrents of emotions that flooded my heart that night was indescribable by human vocabulary.

 Several weeks later, we managed to meet because Nelson came to my house with a date and time for our next meeting that was arranged in my absence. Thereafter, each one of the members presented an extremely valid excuse of an impediment that prevented them from ever beginning their journey to my house on that day.

It took me several years to comprehend that the failure of all  the group members to honour the Outsider’s invitation on that day wasn’t down to pure coincidence. It was never their intention to come to my house on that day in the first place. I just wish they knew what they’d put me through. Did I fail to notice the collective rolling of eyes or some sort of subtle signal when I asked them to come to my house? I will never know.

 I remained an active member of the group, cherishing every minute I spent in their company. But lessons were learned and I grew wiser: Never again did I open my doors for a rehearsal.