I don’t have nostalgia. I don’t miss places. I may remember them vividly, and love something about them, and hold it dear in my heart, but when I leave - I don’t want to come back.
Actually, I feel rather bad if for some reason I have to. Because the place has already changed. Because I have already changed. Because we’re out of sync now(if we ever were). Because I don’t belong. And seeing that hurts actually way more than just not returning.
Maybe it has something to do with the lack of object permanence. Maybe it is more about that autistic refusal to accept the reality which differs from expectations. Inside, I feel like a kid having a meltdown in the middle of the shopping mall because the toy they got was not 100% what they imagined it was going to be. No place is what you remember when you return after leaving. Maybe that’s the reason.
Is it something other #neurodivergent people also experience often? Do you feel nostalgic often or refuse to get back?
‘I would strongly recommend going through the ADHD testing, but I am not licensed to do the test myself, so I can’t give you the official diagnosis of it as it can only be provided after the test by a licensed specialist, and there are very few ones with this narrow license. However, if you manage to get the test done, come to me with the diagnosis, I would accept it from any licensed provider, and then I would be able to provide you the treatment and the medication: though your insurance doesn’t cover the evaluation, it covers treatment.
As for the autism testing, do it if you have extra money as anyway there’s no treatment against it, and if you struggle with any particular issue - we can work on each of them on the therapy without an official autism diagnosis’ - the second psychiatrist after actually talking to me.
For the reference: depending on the provider, the testing is around 400 euro for either(I haven’t found any combined option, btw, so if I want to do both, it’d double)
Yes, there’s general free healthcare. When I asked in my health center about the psychiatrist appointment(without even specifying the goal), I was told the waiting list currently is more than an year, so they won’t even book one for me.
And people still would go “If yOu rEalLy hAd AuDHD, yoU’D hAvE aN ofFiciAl diAgnoSis”…
Recently my daughter (14) opened up about how she feels and is. Long story short, I have reached out to UK mental health services (CAMHS) and the school, and am now likely on a waiting list for ages. She has anxiety, panic, hearing voices, and also presents many spectrum signs. Does anyone have any resources to help give her reasurance / advice, or help narrow down possibile diagnosees to help me signpost her to relevant resources? I and my son (her brother) are also ASD, but she does not find the same strategies helpful. Sorry for so many words, but thanks for reading @actuallyautistic#asd#autism#mentalhealth
I often describe myself as a minimal speaker. It's because whilst I can speak, unless seriously overwhelmed, I vastly prefer not to. In large part, this is because the effort of speaking, and it is, more often than not, a real effort for me, rarely seems worth it. Since realising I am autistic, I have come to realise why this could be and also why communicating on here is so much easier and not just because it's text, because I struggle with that elsewhere too.
Language, whether text or verbal, is communication. Whether that be communicating thoughts, or feelings. Expressing emotions, or ideas. It is the medium and not the source. The source is where these things are coming from and it is what shapes our use of the medium and therefore in large part the assumptions we make about how others are using it and therefore the likely success of any communication.
Enter the double-empathy theory and the general acknowledgement that autism is a fundamental difference in the ways in which our brains work, often exampled by describing it as a different operating system. It means that whilst I am using the same language to talk with allistics, how we're both using it, the ends and purpose, even the nature of the information being transmitted, can often be fundamentally different.
An example I have used, is to compare it to a foreign language speaker with a reasonable understanding of the local language, but having to work incredibly hard to keep up with a conversation and having to constantly check their translations and whether or not they were making the right replies and not offending anyone. But to be truly accurate, you would also have to add in a cultural divide, a root level difference in the expectation and assumptions they are making about life and how this was also shaping their communication.
This, I think, is why speaking has always been so hard for me. Why it's always been so much of an effort and often without point. It's not that I am speaking a foreign language, or that my words themselves can't be understood. But that the information I am attempting to convey and the intended purpose of that information, is so far out of phase with the expectations of those around me, that miscommunication, confusion and the all too familiar fallout becomes almost inevitable. It's also why speaking here is so much easier.
Effective communication is more than just using the right words, it's about realising the intent and purpose behind those words. About understanding where someone is coming from as much as what they are trying to say. And that, as the saying goes, takes two to tango.
@actuallyautistic
Do not complain. If you never lived on the street for a while, if you weren't admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a while. If you didn't spend some years living in boarding houses, eating little and badly. If you didn't have a year of your life that you barely remember what happened or what you did and you ate every 3 or 4 days. If you didn't spend 6 or 7 long hours suffering from extreme anxiety attacks before going to the hospital to get an injection. If you didn't spend years of your life without sleeping more than 3 hours a day. If you did not experience dangerous situations because you got involved in affairs and jobs without thinking about the risks. If you didn't travel to other countries in a precarious way because you didn't realize it was dangerous.
That's all part of being bipolar, autistic, and gifted without knowing it, without having a diagnosis for many years of your life. It is part of having tried to be what one cannot be and not being what by nature one cannot help being.
All of these things and many more that I don't like to tell are part of this neurodivergent inner world that gave me a deep major depression when I couldn't take it anymore and from which it took me almost 10 years to recover. Although I can't really talk about recovery because the person I was before that has already died and what I can be now remains.
It's not fun to live like this, it's not funny, cool or an adventure. It's a complete shit life. The only thing that sustained me was that as compensation, nature granted me a high intellectual capacity and great resilience, without which I would not have survived even early childhood.
The wisdom that one accumulates by learning from suffering goes hand in hand with the need for solitude and silence and is the mother of low sociability and a strong awareness of the absurdity of life in general and human life in particular.
Don't get caught up in the alienation that rages in the world. My plans for my future years are to move further and further away from social life. And once I can retire, dedicate myself to what I like for the rest of the trip.
If the world and its herds run in one direction, go the opposite way.
Burnout is a bitch. I think all of us who have experienced it, or are experiencing it, will agree with that. But, how it presents and how long it maintains its hold over us, seems to be as variable as so much else about us.
I can now recognise the many times I have experienced burnout in my life. Each one marked by my constant refrain of, "I'm just tired" and with me doggedly plodding on with my life as best I could. Even now, in the deepest and longest burnout of my life, I am still doing the same.
Of course, I at least know to try and pace myself now. To let the unimportant things slide until their time comes and to spread out what has to be done, to the best of my ability. I know to dedicate time to self-care, to rest and recreation and to acknowledging my needs as an autistic person. This much, realising you are autistic can teach you. It can also help you to spot the signs of burning out sooner and hopefully mitigate its effects that way.
When that's possible, of course. For what caused my current burnout was unfortunately a series of overlapping events that I could not avoid, or do anything about. It was almost as if life chose to keep throwing things at me, each more intense and impossible to avoid, until I broke. But then life can be like that sometimes.
Autistic burnout is, of course, different from normal burnout, in what causes it and how it presents. It is, more often than not, a breakdown of our ability to cope with the demands being placed on us and not with how much we can carry. We are used to carrying insane loads and with having to work so much harder than most other people, just to keep putting one foot in front of the other through life. In fact, I know that I never really rest, not even now. My life is one long and continuous assessment and checking on whether the routines I have in place are being maintained. Whether I have done everything, on what needs to be done and finding new ways to blames myself for why it hasn't been done yet. There is no such thing as not working as far as my brain is concerned. And because I never stop, I don't know how to stop. How to heed the signals of tiredness and exhaustion and how to not knuckle down and continue anyway. It has been the story of my life. In work and everywhere else, always push, push, push.
And perhaps this is why autistic burnout is so common and possibly even inevitable. The sheer effort that life already is. The constant raggedy edge we walk just to get through a day and how in doing this day after day, all we end up doing is teaching ourselves to ignore the warning signs and that our needs are even important. And end up learning instead, that all that really matters is the next plodding step, no matter the load we are already carrying.
Please stop with the euphemisms. We know what we are, we don't need it explained to us. It is patronising when people try and define our identity for us.
This could be the connection between Ehlers-Danlos and neurodivergence. (People with EDS, like me, are 7 times as likely to be autistic and 5 times as likely to have ADHD -- also like me.)
I've just finished watching the first series of "A kind of spark" on BBC iPlayer. Although, this is not about this excellent show. Rather, it's about the struggle I had with watching it and why it took me two attempts to get through it.
The fact is, that found it quite triggering. Now I know it's about, and probably made for, teenagers and the struggles they go through at school and especially being autistic and at school. And even though school was a very long time ago for me and in another age of man. I still couldn't help comparing it to my own experiences and not just in school, but throughout my life, and how much similarity I could see. Not, in the details, obviously, but in the way I would constantly run afoul of people, or somehow be on their wrong side of someone, even before we'd properly met. The sheer pettiness of some of it and the hurt it so often caused me, as much by my not understanding it, as by the unfairness of it. Of how many toes I'd stood on, without meaning to, or even knowing I'd done it and how much of my life I'd actually spent bewildered and upset by the situations I would find myself in and the actions I couldn't understand of the people around me.
Of course, no-one, least of all myself, knew that I was autistic back then, because that would probably have made it much worse. But knowing I am autistic now, at least gives me an understanding of why some people might have reacted this way. How, in some ways, at least, I've never really behaved in the ways that others might find appropriate, to their position, or status, or sense of worth. How socially blundering my way through life, of necessity, includes many toes I could step on and people who could be offended.
But, of course, understanding this now, doesn't really ease the memories. Neither of the pain I did cause, without meaning to, or the pain I received. It doesn't make the life I've had easier, only easier to understand.
And that, in a sense, is what this show made me have to face. That no matter how privileged my life has been. How much easier I've had it, compared to so, so, many others. It's never been easy. There have only been moments, brief and sometimes, admittedly, not so brief periods where my life seemed to make sense and I felt, if not entirely in control, at least in somewhat of a comfort zone. That I was OK and that I could just get on with doing things my way and just being myself. Not without cost, of course, normally in hard, unremitting, work and effort. In often struggling with feelings of guilt and shame about how selfish I was having to be. Because, that was what carving out my own world felt like. Not necessary, or even justified, but selfish and almost petty of me.
And then, of course, there would always be something that would intrude from the outside world. As often, as not, something petty and officious that would dump me back into the turmoil and uncertainty. Because, you can never really isolate yourself from the world, as much as some of us would love to. And so much of this world really isn't made for us. It will always be hard and there will always be those who delight in making it harder. Those who are truly petty and selfish, in the ways that we aren't, and others who will try to use that hate to benefit themselves. It's why carving out our safe spaces will always be difficult, but also, so very necessary.
Much to my shock I realised that I could be autistic when I was 53, roughly 7 years ago. And it was a shock, even though I suspect a very small, well hidden and very much ignored part of me, might have suspected. No one told me about it, or suggested that it might be the case. I did not see myself in relatives, the way so many of us do. I just happened to come across an autism test online and for no particular reason, took it.
It was that, that started me on my path to realising and finally accepting the truth that I was autistic. But, looking back, I sometimes find it hard to understand how I didn't know earlier. So much of my life now, just screams autism at me. But even ignoring the horribly ableist and medieval view I had of what autism was, the main reason why I didn't was probably because I could mask, both from myself and others, so well.
It was, I realise now, a life lived in denial. A denial of how much things bothered me, how much effort I had to put into things. Even a denial of the things I knew I couldn't do. Because this is the thing about appearing to mask so well, for so long. It is, in a sense, a lie. I couldn't mask well, if at all. Not all the time. Not in all situations or circumstances. There were things I just couldn't cope with, or even begin to deal with. But the trick was, that I either knew about them, or learnt the hard way about them and then I could manage my life to avoid them. Because they were things I could live without, without affecting how I appeared to be coping. Things that didn't affect the way I lived, even if they did affect my sense of worth. Because, how broken did you have to be, not to be able to go to crowded events, like a sports match, or a concert? Or to be able to deal with the socialising of a large gathering, or a family event, without having to hide in the kitchen, or forever outside, or break down in a toilet?
It was all part of how I masked myself from myself. The internal masking, as I like to call it. If I couldn't cope, then I was broken. If I couldn't stand something, then I was too picky, or sensitive, or I simply needed to learn to ignore it. And somehow I did learn. I learnt how to cope with noise and smell and visual overwhelm. I learnt to not let things bother me. To a point at least. There was always a step too far, when I couldn't, or didn't have the energy any more to maintain it. And this did take energy, a lot of it. Something I've only realising now that I don't have the energy to spare to even try it. Or the ability to, in many respects now that I know what I was trying so desperately to hide from.
Because when the truth is known, it's far harder to deny it. It's far harder to live the life where appearing to cope, is as good as coping. Where blaming yourself, is easier than seeing others faults. Where ignoring the pain, makes the pain go away. It's hard to see the mask as a benefit and always a good thing, rather than the shield and tool it always was.
Doctor suggested I have #ADHD but I don't think I do because:
I am able to force myself to do things even if I'm not interested in it.
I do not like spontaneity.
When I have a deadline, I cannot leave it to the last minute or anxiety would cripple me.
But I do struggle to pay attention unless am hyperfocused. And I do have executive function challenges. And I have to have a project. And I crave dopamine hits.
@niamhgarvey@miffyhelen@actuallyautistic@actuallyadhd Having only recently found out I'm ADHD as well I think one of the biggest factors is that autism & the monotropism that comes along with it mitigates the inattention & distractibility associated with ADHD.
Also one of the benefits of ADHD is that it nudges my autistic self out of its routines & comfort zones for novelty seeking & social interaction. This means I've had quite an exciting life.
I'm beginning to suspect that "High functioning" & "Asperger's" may just be co-occuring #ADHD & #Autism in many, many cases.
Book review #27 for 2024 is Steve Silberman's Neurotribes: The Legacy of Autism and the Future of Neurodiversity. A helpful and informative book on the unfolding journey of and...battles with/for, regarding people who interact with their world differently. I found this book to be helpful in understanding the rise of what we today call neurodiversity. ☕☕☕☕1/2 review. @stevesilberman@books@bookstodon@bookstodon#autism#neurodiversity#books#books2024 #
It has taken me two years to change my bio from "Neurodivergent, apparently" to just "Neurodivergent". Despite being open about my #ASD and #ADHD, the 'apparently' must have been a subconscious way of distancing myself from the diagnosis somehow.
Some hobbies haven't fully materialized because small things will get me dysregulated. Frustration builds/#monitropic mind/ identifying flaws, etc. I'm able to be kind, gentle & patient w/ clients who struggle w/ #perfectionism because it's something I've been slowly trying to overcome my entire life; partially because of my high demand religion, & also now I'm recognizing not only my parents' parenting style, but #autism too. 😮💨 I'm learning to laugh now.
And well, there's like a very persistent pattern in all these self assessment test results 😅
Not as high as yours, but still in the "yes, lol" side of things