Penny is an artist who uses her creative side and imagination to express herself. She’s now using this opportunity with ASDNext to not only do that through art, but also blogging. For much of her life, she felt like the “quirky sidekick” stereotype in a movie, always doing what others expected of her. When she was diagnosed with autism later in life, that all began to change. This news was life changing and she knew it was time to rewrite her story. She’s no longer on the sidelines of this so-called movie that is her life, she’s the director, leading-lady, or whatever other part she needs to play to figure out who she REALLY is! Every small step toward authenticity is now a victory for her in this new stage of life.
View all postsThe Ups and Downs of Being an Adult: A Rollercoaster Story
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For me, leveling up into adulthood meant a loss of the invincible feeling I had as a child. My body aches more, and my mind is full of irrational ideas of danger. This anxiety prompted me to mute the thrill-seeking part of my brain and make more mature decisions that steer clear of overly scary situations whenever possible. I learned this while taking a day trip to a theme park with friends, pre-COVID era. The endless fun of spinning, high-speed, and intense rides as adults started to make us all feel sick.
“Is this something that simply happens to you as an adult?” I thought to myself. “Adult bodies decide to absorb every shock, every shift, and every drop like it’s being thrown through some sort of Thunderdome wrestling death match?!?” I swore off SCARY theme park rides ever since that day and chose a lane to stay in, riding the carousel to make all my magical horse-girl dreams come true forever and ever! The horses bob and smile but never betray me by throwing me down a mountain at breakneck speed.
My brother, on the other hand, remains a THRILL SEEKER no matter how old he gets. He loves theme parks and has visited countless of them. Once spring hits, he gets his annual Hershey Park Season pass for ALL YEAR LONG, early park entry, and free parking at a park that feels like his backyard. A season pass ALSO includes free VIP parking, access to “Zoo America,” and special members-only discounts and events. This year, he suggested I purchase a pass for myself. I had no intention of trying to conquer my adult anxiety related to rollercoasters. Instead, I focused on other perks, like spending time with my brother if we meet up there, riding the carousel, and visiting the zoo whenever I want. In mid-May, I finally made a point of picking up my pass and joining him.
Meeting up in the Hershey area, he drove us both to the park. He showed me all the ins and outs of being a season pass holder, including how to get there, where to park, what food to eat, and where all the best rides are located. I had explained to him my recent fear of roller coasters, and he said we were getting on one together today. “No, no, no ! That’s okay, you ride your rides, I just want to ride the carousel,” I told him.
He was CONVINCED I could get over my fear just from repeated exposure, quoting my dad: “Human beings are the most adaptable creatures on the planet!” Stubbornly, I stood my ground and, happily, he went on his rides; I went on my rides. We ended the day with a brother-sister carousel ride, whee!
The following Sunday, when we returned, we stood under the 94ft wooden “Comet” rollercoaster. An ancient and seemingly mild ride, according to him. He explained all the safety parameters as we watched along the shore where the wooden supports of the coaster sprout from. He pointed out the giant spool of cable and further explained how a motor turns the pulley system. The cable wound rapidly to pull the coaster cart system forward, then propel it. “It IS safe, it IS fun, you just have to get used to it!” He kept telling me. His peer pressure, detailed explanation of safety features, and his confidence in me as a person wore me down. We made our way over to the line for “The Comet.”
Anticipating the ride was a little nerve-racking, but being in line meant no turning back. Soon enough, we were positioned to pick our seats in the next car. I decided to take the seat FURTHUREST back to conceal my potential panic attack from other riders. We put on our seatbelts, pushed down on the lap restraints, and our train slowly made its loud climb up the first hill.
My eyes were shut tightly; I had no desire to see what I was in for down below. The clanking stopped, my stomach went vertical, and we went barreling DOWN. I shouted, I screamed, and I braced myself as tightly as I could. Looking back, I think my fight against roller coasters contributed to the post-ride pain, but in that moment, I was overwhelmed with fear and adrenaline, just trying to survive. And survive I did!!
According to my FitBit, my heart rate rose to 165 beats per minute, which I would consider a vigorous workout pace. On the other side of the ride, we waited for our photo to appear on a large screen. I didn’t even know they took our photo. When it popped up, I was humbled and entertained. There I was, cowering and slinking down, holding on for my dear life, while my brother next to me had his hands in the air and a slight smirk on his face. I ordered that photo as a keychain and took it easy with less intense rides for the rest of the day.
I plan to ride “The Comet” (and possibly other roller coasters) again sometime this summer. I’m sure with time, I will be a more fearless rider. Either way, my brother’s still got a seat saved next to him just for me. I hope one day to have the courage to actually SEE what was happening on the ride. Potentially sit up straighter. One day, perhaps I will hold my arms in the air, feeling the thrilling wind and freedom others feel on roller coasters. The idea of me enjoying the experience one day is pleasant. All goals aside, I’m not exactly sure what will ACTUALLY happen the next time I set foot on a roller coaster. Regardless, I am proud of myself for trying, glad my brother kept encouraging me, and I am ready for another ride sometime soon.
Penny
