Sunday, July 31, 2016

Finding Me - Finding Out pt One

It's taken me over a month to start this post.  In so many ways I'm still finding out about being autistic, making this by far the most mentally and emotionally complex post I've ever written.

When my father posed Mom's idea about me being autistic I initially gave it only a cursory thought or two.  I could see what they meant about me having 'autistic tendencies', but thought they were largely environmental, a bi-product of growing up in a home with a father and two brothers on the spectrum.  I didn't really dedicate much thought to it in the moment.  Or the next moment.  Or the one after that.  
The thing was, though, that the moments persisted through the night and into the next day.  As each moment passed I found myself thinking about it more and more.  It started making some sense, then too much sense, of things that had been hard for me my entire life.  Of past moments that had been awkward or inexplicably tough or painful.  I was sitting in my bedroom most of that evening, a quiet haven, as the sands of thought became increasingly active, moving slowly at first and then swirling increasingly fast all around my mind.  I did not know peace until I knelt in prayer and asked.  Asked if I was autistic.  The answer, that confirmation that yes, I am autistic, was pure and plain and precious, as personal revelation often is.  That moment was simple and sweet, for which I am eternally grateful.  Had it come in unsurety or chaos it would have fundamentally altered all that which came thereafter.

Another thing for which I am immensely grateful is that I was on vacation at the time.  I had taken two weeks off of work for the sole purpose of, well, doing nothing.  I planned no activities, no trips, just did whatever I wanted to in the moment I wanted to do it.  This amounted largely to a whole lot of staying at home doing virtually nothing, as I am not really the adventurous type.  What it did turn into is the chance to think a lot.  By a lot I mean, well, incessantly.  One thing about us 'neurodiverse' types, our brains don't really stop.  Ever.  We are always processing multiple things, both consciously and subconsciously, at all times.  Our trains of thought run rapidly along multiple tracks, usually to purpose but other times in circles and squiggles so increasingly frenetic that our brains ultimately can't handle the pressure and react, ie meltdowns and shutdowns.  These moments are triggered internally and externally, though without any external pressure the trains usually don't derail by themselves.  One example though of a subconscious train of thought would be the idea of writing this post--it has been running nonstop in my brain ever since I hit the "publish" button for the last one, and it has taken this long for the train to pull into this destination.

Anyway, to fully grasp what it has been like to find out I'm autistic would take as long as the experience has been (stretching into 10 months), and frankly I don't have the time to write down every moment, and I know noone else would have the inclination to go through that whole rigmarole.  I'll instead focus on a few realizations and experiences I've had since.

1.  I remember Mom one time telling me to stop apologizing so much.  I used to apologize for so many things, so many moments when something was awkward or weird or painful or I was getting yelled at and didn't know why, or just to appease someone who thought something was my fault even though I had no idea how or what they were talking about.  I would apologize for something I said, for something that happened because I was angry, for something that happened because I was sad, even the odd moments when something would happen because I was happy.  I got to the point where to me it felt like I was having to apologize for existing, for being such an annoyance/struggle/burden for everyone around me.  This is one area where I really related to Dory--if you notice at the beginning of the movie in particular you'll find that she's apologizing for something easily every 3 to 5 minutes due to her own challenges, and boy do I relate!! 

I have spent years trying not to apologize so much.  Mom might not even remember that conversation as it happened well over a decade ago.  It had a pretty profound impact on me though, and I spent years trying not to apologize so much.  It got a bit easier once I was out of high school.  I learned so many situations just to stay out of so that I wouldn't get into trouble for something, or so that I wouldn't screw up.  Now I try to say 'thank you' -- instead of focusing on what I'm not doing well, I thank others for their assistance/patience/time, etc.  I still find myself avoiding a lot of those situations though.

2.  Reading.  Oh my, reading.  I used to be an absolutely voracious reader.  I consumed books for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon snack, dinner, supper, dessert.  Practically as soon as I learned how to read I fell in love with the library, and by the time I was in junior high I had taught myself not only to walk while reading (extremely easy) but to ride my bike while reading, not wanting to wait even that five to ten minute ride home from the library to dive into the books I had checked out.  I even read by the light of my alarm clock at night, since until I was 16 I shared a room with other siblings and couldn't keep the light on.

Boxcar Children
Baby-Sitters Club
Sweet Valley Series
My Brother the Wind
Anne of Green Gables
Madeline L'Engle
Tamora Pierce
Anne McCaffrey
Robin McKinley
Patricia McKillip
JRR Tolkien
Orson Scott Card

Long before the Harry Potter series was ever released I had easily read hundreds of books and authors.  I began buying books instead of borrowing them, eventually reaching a point where it became cheaper to do so as I would forget to return the books and would have to pay even more in fines that the book cost itself.  I amassed a huge library.  I estimate that at its height my collection was comprised of over 500 books.  They just made so much more sense than real life!  They let me lose myself in their pages and plotlines, and I was able to fully experience emotion in a way that I never could in my own story, in a way that was so personal and yet one step removed.  The characters never disappointed me, the stories never got angry at me, I never had to do anything other than read to be immediately immersed in a world where I personally could do nothing wrong.  And such rich worlds!!  I learned from these books as well, including what it means to be a good leader and what it means to take accountability for one's actions.  So much of what I do and know now is influenced by what I read, and I am grateful I was drawn to books of heroism and gallantry instead of death and destruction ;).

At the time I would have said I just loved reading, loved the books for themselves and nothing else mattered.  Only now that I am coming to terms with myself, knowing who I am and why I do the things I do, do I no longer need, and yes I absolutely mean need, books the way I once did.  That being said I absolutely still love the works of so many authors, especially Brandon Sanderson and Patrick Rothfuss :)


Next Post:  Finding Me - Finding Out pt Two
Previous Post: Finding Me - The Ripple Effect

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