Autisticosity Stuff
Jul. 18th, 2024 04:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nightlightsukSooo.... I was officially diagnosed as autistic a couple of weeks ago. "Whoopdedoo, so are lots of other people" etc. After all, 0.8% of the UK = many many billions. Odds are this post will be of very little interest to most people who read it, but it's partly for my own reference, and partly because I've got so many thinks rattling round my head that I need to get them out somewhere. And right now, there isn't really anyone I can ramble to about it. Family haven’t been told with one exception, and friends are going through a lot of their own issues so I don’t want to hassle them. So I’ll hassle Dreamwidth instead.
I'll stuff the rest into one of those "cut" things, if it works...
The diagnostaries said they have to write up a report for my GP which could take a few weeks, so I've no idea when that'll turn up or what happens next. I'm hoping the next step is a lifetime's free prescription of M&Ms, as it seems the most likely scenario.
Basically a relative had spoken to their GP about getting an autism diagnosis, and some of the things they'd mentioned as symptoms matched me too. I did a couple of those online test wotsits, and my jaw hit the floor when it delivered the verdict, "There's an extremely high chance that you're as autistic as balls." So that started the balls rolling.
And I'm *kind of* glad I did?
Mostly I'm over the moon about the diagnosis, if that doesn't sound strange. It confirms what I'd suspected for several years now, and it gives me a whole bunch of answers, or at least explanations, for various things. I rarely stay still, and used to be told off at school and at home for fidgeting or foot tapping or just moving around constantly. Some asspasty in the Jobcentre told me to “F**king keep still, you’re doing my head in” because I was nervously shuffling about. Turns out that's "stimming" which I didn't even know was A Thing. (Trust me, it does not go well with eczema. My arms look like Freddy Kruger has been round for a visit.)
Likewise, it explains why I really don't like shopping malls in particular - the OTT bright lights, music blasting out, billboard posters everywhere, people rushing around, constant babbling voices in the background. And cinemas and concerts are mostly a no-go, which is ironic in some ways because I've played a few live gigs in my new band. But... I guess the difference there is that I'm far more in control on the stage, compared to being in the audience. By contrast I love bookshops which often seem to subdue the lighting a bit, and tend to play very quiet music, and people don’t rush around there.
If there's a lot of background noise, I can't concentrate or talk to people easily. A Jobcentre dude a few years ago tried out some test interview questions, trying to be helpful. But the place was way too warm, there was lots of talking in the background from other people, and I just couldn't cope. For ages I thought that things like this, and the shopping mall situation, was down to panic attacks - something I've had all my life, but especially badly since the early 90s. Doubtless part of that *was* down to anxiety of a sort, but it seems more likely it was "over stimulation" as the cool kids call it. Often when I’ve got through something stressful, I’ll go hyper for a time, and then regret it because not long after, I’ll be utterly knackered for hours. Or sometimes the stress leaves me feeling ill for days afterwards.
So in many ways I'm glad that some of these things weren't because of panic attacks and I'm not "a nervous wreck." It’s things I couldn’t control. And so many things over the years that seemed like stupid mistakes - which I attributed to just being an idiot - may well have had other reasons. (Like an interview when the boss put his hand out for me to shake... and I promptly handed him my coat, thinking that's what he wanted. Ummm... well, let's just say I didn't get the job. =^_^= )
But finding this out at 51 is also kind of upsetting. Nothing has changed about me in many ways, but at the same time everything *has* changed. It's like my origin story, so to speak, has been completely rewritten and I'm sat here thinking "What the hey?!" Better late than never, definitely, and also the past can't be changed, so dwelling on it too much is a mistake. However, some looking at the past is going to be needed.
I was the classic case of the kid that was always picked last during school PE lessons, because I was crap at every sport imaginable. I was branded the kid that never smiled and seemed bored with everything. I did smile but being given that label meant I then didn't any more, because to my logic, I wasn't allowed to. And I *was* excited about things - I just generally don't show it for whatever reason. I might not look especially enthusiastic, but inside my head there are probably fireworks going off. Or something.
And let’s not even get started on eye contact. That ain’t happening. Eye contact can kiss my wonderful butt.
I had precisely two friends at school and zero friends at college and frankly was perfectly happy with that. The other students went off to the cafe to talk bollocks for an hour or two, and I'd explore the local streets, the disused quarry, and the churchyard, looking for zombies. While other kids were drawing pretty gardens or soldiers or future husbands/wives, I was drawing pictures of eyes (beautifully detailed with labels showing the optic nerve, lens, iris and the wobbly jelly bits) or how a lung works. When most of the other kids gained an interest in music or lurve, I doubled down on my interest in Transformers and Spectrum games.
Also, although I don't remember it at all, I apparently had several total meltdowns at primary school. Something happened in the dining hall, and my parents were told by the teachers, "We don’t talk about it” but I picked up vague hints that I simply threw a plate on the floor, food and all, and stormed out after a bully had attacked me. And so the legend goes, I was told to behave in class, so I took a big ol' scoop of sand from the sandpit and threw it into the piano. As you do.
And of course, I struggled at school badly because I didn't understand the tasks and either felt too nervous or stupid about asking the teacher to explain it again, or thought I'd got it figured out only to find out I was utterly wrong. It still happens - I need things explaining clearly, otherwise I can't hold the information in my baked bean size brain and it floats back out again.
I was simply branded lazy, shy, troubled or weird by the teachers, depending on how much of an arsehole they were. But bear in mind that this was mostly in the 80s, and autism just wasn't recognised back then. Not like it is now. So quiet kids were simply shy and told they needed to try harder. To get involved. Thankfully now that's less likely to happen at schools. But I can't help thinking how many other kids back then were autistic, and branded as shy or sent to The Special School(tm) instead of getting the help they'd probably get now.
At my first job, the boss there had very specific ways of doing things, and I was constantly figuring out faster, more efficient ways to do things, and he used to get really angry once he found out. And I never understood why. This actually proved to be a bonus at one job because I got a task done that they estimated would take 5 months to complete, and I figured out how to get it done in two weeks. Not that I’m bragging or anything.
There are many, many other things that happened over the years, but this is already set to rival War And Peace, so there's no point going on and on. Basically though, I'm much, much happier about the diagnosis than sad. I'm just hoping they don't suggest medication because I really don't want to change myself, if that makes sense. I like being me. I like writing imaginative music (to me it is anyway) and thinking up characters and whole worlds and other things and stuff and wotnots. CBT was mentioned which doesn't especially appeal. At least for the most part though, I know now what caused so many of the problems, and can maybe find workarounds, or ask for extra help.
And no, I don't seem to have gained some mysterious magical super power which is annoying. I've always been crap at maths and problem solving, I can't read music, I don’t know how to slay vampires and I still haven't figured out how to levitate. Bloody Rain Man has a lot to answer for.
Innit.
I'll stuff the rest into one of those "cut" things, if it works...
The diagnostaries said they have to write up a report for my GP which could take a few weeks, so I've no idea when that'll turn up or what happens next. I'm hoping the next step is a lifetime's free prescription of M&Ms, as it seems the most likely scenario.
Basically a relative had spoken to their GP about getting an autism diagnosis, and some of the things they'd mentioned as symptoms matched me too. I did a couple of those online test wotsits, and my jaw hit the floor when it delivered the verdict, "There's an extremely high chance that you're as autistic as balls." So that started the balls rolling.
And I'm *kind of* glad I did?
Mostly I'm over the moon about the diagnosis, if that doesn't sound strange. It confirms what I'd suspected for several years now, and it gives me a whole bunch of answers, or at least explanations, for various things. I rarely stay still, and used to be told off at school and at home for fidgeting or foot tapping or just moving around constantly. Some asspasty in the Jobcentre told me to “F**king keep still, you’re doing my head in” because I was nervously shuffling about. Turns out that's "stimming" which I didn't even know was A Thing. (Trust me, it does not go well with eczema. My arms look like Freddy Kruger has been round for a visit.)
Likewise, it explains why I really don't like shopping malls in particular - the OTT bright lights, music blasting out, billboard posters everywhere, people rushing around, constant babbling voices in the background. And cinemas and concerts are mostly a no-go, which is ironic in some ways because I've played a few live gigs in my new band. But... I guess the difference there is that I'm far more in control on the stage, compared to being in the audience. By contrast I love bookshops which often seem to subdue the lighting a bit, and tend to play very quiet music, and people don’t rush around there.
If there's a lot of background noise, I can't concentrate or talk to people easily. A Jobcentre dude a few years ago tried out some test interview questions, trying to be helpful. But the place was way too warm, there was lots of talking in the background from other people, and I just couldn't cope. For ages I thought that things like this, and the shopping mall situation, was down to panic attacks - something I've had all my life, but especially badly since the early 90s. Doubtless part of that *was* down to anxiety of a sort, but it seems more likely it was "over stimulation" as the cool kids call it. Often when I’ve got through something stressful, I’ll go hyper for a time, and then regret it because not long after, I’ll be utterly knackered for hours. Or sometimes the stress leaves me feeling ill for days afterwards.
So in many ways I'm glad that some of these things weren't because of panic attacks and I'm not "a nervous wreck." It’s things I couldn’t control. And so many things over the years that seemed like stupid mistakes - which I attributed to just being an idiot - may well have had other reasons. (Like an interview when the boss put his hand out for me to shake... and I promptly handed him my coat, thinking that's what he wanted. Ummm... well, let's just say I didn't get the job. =^_^= )
But finding this out at 51 is also kind of upsetting. Nothing has changed about me in many ways, but at the same time everything *has* changed. It's like my origin story, so to speak, has been completely rewritten and I'm sat here thinking "What the hey?!" Better late than never, definitely, and also the past can't be changed, so dwelling on it too much is a mistake. However, some looking at the past is going to be needed.
I was the classic case of the kid that was always picked last during school PE lessons, because I was crap at every sport imaginable. I was branded the kid that never smiled and seemed bored with everything. I did smile but being given that label meant I then didn't any more, because to my logic, I wasn't allowed to. And I *was* excited about things - I just generally don't show it for whatever reason. I might not look especially enthusiastic, but inside my head there are probably fireworks going off. Or something.
And let’s not even get started on eye contact. That ain’t happening. Eye contact can kiss my wonderful butt.
I had precisely two friends at school and zero friends at college and frankly was perfectly happy with that. The other students went off to the cafe to talk bollocks for an hour or two, and I'd explore the local streets, the disused quarry, and the churchyard, looking for zombies. While other kids were drawing pretty gardens or soldiers or future husbands/wives, I was drawing pictures of eyes (beautifully detailed with labels showing the optic nerve, lens, iris and the wobbly jelly bits) or how a lung works. When most of the other kids gained an interest in music or lurve, I doubled down on my interest in Transformers and Spectrum games.
Also, although I don't remember it at all, I apparently had several total meltdowns at primary school. Something happened in the dining hall, and my parents were told by the teachers, "We don’t talk about it” but I picked up vague hints that I simply threw a plate on the floor, food and all, and stormed out after a bully had attacked me. And so the legend goes, I was told to behave in class, so I took a big ol' scoop of sand from the sandpit and threw it into the piano. As you do.
And of course, I struggled at school badly because I didn't understand the tasks and either felt too nervous or stupid about asking the teacher to explain it again, or thought I'd got it figured out only to find out I was utterly wrong. It still happens - I need things explaining clearly, otherwise I can't hold the information in my baked bean size brain and it floats back out again.
I was simply branded lazy, shy, troubled or weird by the teachers, depending on how much of an arsehole they were. But bear in mind that this was mostly in the 80s, and autism just wasn't recognised back then. Not like it is now. So quiet kids were simply shy and told they needed to try harder. To get involved. Thankfully now that's less likely to happen at schools. But I can't help thinking how many other kids back then were autistic, and branded as shy or sent to The Special School(tm) instead of getting the help they'd probably get now.
At my first job, the boss there had very specific ways of doing things, and I was constantly figuring out faster, more efficient ways to do things, and he used to get really angry once he found out. And I never understood why. This actually proved to be a bonus at one job because I got a task done that they estimated would take 5 months to complete, and I figured out how to get it done in two weeks. Not that I’m bragging or anything.
There are many, many other things that happened over the years, but this is already set to rival War And Peace, so there's no point going on and on. Basically though, I'm much, much happier about the diagnosis than sad. I'm just hoping they don't suggest medication because I really don't want to change myself, if that makes sense. I like being me. I like writing imaginative music (to me it is anyway) and thinking up characters and whole worlds and other things and stuff and wotnots. CBT was mentioned which doesn't especially appeal. At least for the most part though, I know now what caused so many of the problems, and can maybe find workarounds, or ask for extra help.
And no, I don't seem to have gained some mysterious magical super power which is annoying. I've always been crap at maths and problem solving, I can't read music, I don’t know how to slay vampires and I still haven't figured out how to levitate. Bloody Rain Man has a lot to answer for.
Innit.
