How instant messaging was easier for my autistic brain: A lesson learned from the Millenial IM days
Originally published on Medium
A new text notification pops up on my phone screen and I freeze.
Someone I don’t really talk to in person wants to know how I’m doing. I appreciate the thought and reply back while my brain calculates how much time and energy I need to put into this text conversation. Wait, no, let’s call it a text exchange. Is this text exchange a simple “What’s up?” interaction or is a more in-depth back-and-forth appropriate?
After a few more texts, it seems like a “What’s up” interaction (the texting equivalent of small talk) and I pause, not sure what to do next. Is this the last text? No, they replied back. Do I reply again? Sure. Okay, it’s been a while with no reply — never mind, they just answered. Should I take longer to reply too? Or is this how the conversation ends?
My brain finally reminds me that I was in the middle of something before all this texting. So I stop answering and feel guilty the rest of the day for leaving them hanging.
Or did they want me to stop answering?
I can’t stop trying to figure it out.
The ability to be in touch all the time has the disadvantage of knowing that someone can be in touch at any moment. My phone can go anywhere I go. I can text anyone anytime. Seems great for keeping in touch with people, right? At anytime I can get a text from someone. At anytime they can read my reply and answer back. No scheduling or plan necessary.
See the issue for this autistic woman?
The ability to be in touch all the time has the disadvantage of knowing that someone can be in touch at any moment.
Each time I experience this paradox, I recall the days of Instant Messaging (IM). I know that technically IM still exists with apps like Google Hangout but I’m referring to a specific time period. Back when I was a kid and cell phones did exist but not everyone had one. And even when we did get access to a cellphone, phone plans limited text messages (like mobile data is now). Paying per text kept text exchanges short. Most of my fellow students had computer and internet access so instead, we IMed on apps like Yahoo Messenger or AIM.
Starting an IM conversation looked like this:
I access the internet using a computer, usually at the library or at someone else’s house (until my family got our own computer and internet connection). Then, I log on to IM and let my status show I’m available to talk. I search for any available friends. Found one! I open a new chat, send a greeting, and the conversation starts. When one of us has to go, either for a break or to completely log off, we warn each other with a “brb” or “g2g” so no one is waiting around for a reply. Sometimes we schedule our next IM session for the next time we can use the computer.
And that was my IM routine. IMing had a definite beginning and end. Once I stopped using the computer, the conversation had to end. The computer didn’t go with me when I stood up and left.
The conversation ended.
It was done.
A new conversation required a little more planning than simply pulling a phone out of a pocket.
I don’t know how to recreate this experience. I don’t know if I want to recreate it. Maybe it’s better to leave it as a memory to recall after a particularly frustrating text exchange that makes me wish I could work up the nerve to just call people instead of relying on texts.