Day 6 of Autism Acceptance Month
TL/DR: I grew up with autism, but I was able to mask, so I appeared only eccentric and had no supports growing up.
TL/DR: I grew up with autism, but I was able to mask, so I appeared only eccentric and had no supports growing up. Now I am an adult on the spectrum, and many people are amazed since they wouldn't have known unless I told them. But I need those supports sometimes, and am lucky enough to have loved ones who provide them to me when I need them.
As a kid going through school, most people didn't know what to make of me. In Kindergarten, I was sent to a resource room since I was so quiet that teachers thought I was special needs. After 2 weeks, I was sent back to my regular ed classroom, since they had determined that I was intelligent, but just quiet.
In 1st and 2nd grade, I was in a dual grade classroom for the chance to do math at a higher grade level, but by the end of 1st grade, I was the only one doing 3rd grade math. My social skills were lacking and I had 1 or 2 close friends, but did most of my stuff alone.
By the time I was in high school, I had a close knit group of 2-3 friends, and others who wanted to be friendly with me were often put off by my solitary and unsocial nature. When I went home every day, I would go to the living room and read; I didn't chat with friends on the phone or hang out with them. I was truly on my own, and my parents didn't really see anything wrong with it. A little strange, but I wasn't causing trouble or anything they saw as negative.
I graduated from high school in 1991, and Autism was seen as a severe social and developmental disorder. However, there was interest in a similar condition called Asperger's Syndrome, first described in a 1944 paper by an Austrian psychologist. The kids described in the paper SEEMED to be autistic, but had better developed intellectual and communication skills. But it still wasn't seen as a valid diagnosis by many people. So I was still seen as a relatively normal, but socially inept member of society. Then, in 1994, Asperger's Syndrome was included in the DSM-IV for the first time, meaning people who had that diagnosis could receive services in school for it, but for millions of adults like me, it was too little, too late, since it needed to be diagnosed in kids.
For the next 14 years, I struggled through college and grad school. I had a smaller group of younger friends who were still in high school, but most people were a mystery to me. Until I started teaching kids on the spectrum in 2003, and realized that I was a lot like them (I was 30 at this point). I got my initial diagnosis in 2011 at 38, and that's when I finally was able to begin accepting myself for who I was, and not just as a person who just didn't get it. I had a label for what was wrong with me, although that only caused me to redirect the blame to my autism.
It's 13 years later, and I am finally at a place where I can accept myself, and see my autism as a part of who I am. And I know that it gives me some difficulties, but also lets me see things outside of that traditional box that many others are stuck in. I do need supports at times, but I am more willing to accept assistance from others without that negative self-talk that says I should be able to do it without assistance. My acceptance isn't complete, even at 51, but I have found my tribe where we help each other.
So grateful for this
34th year living with a child on the ASD. I feel this so freaking hard.