The first time Autism was mentioned to my mother, she went on Autism speaks, and after she doubted the doctors, teachers, friends, and even myself, who believed that yes I was Autistic. I was 18 at the time. She would rather type in symptoms, and find something like epilepsy because it meant I her daughter was not broken for years, and she did not notice.
The fact is Autism and Asperger(I see myself as a Aspie, but my actual diagnoses is Autism spectrum disorder) doesn’t mean something is broken inside me. It wasn’t something she did that has caused this something that is just as much me as my hazel eyes, dirty blonde hair, and the fact I am night blind.
While yes it means that I do repetitive things some are considered more common like rocking, but I also do things most people don’t think of when they think of Autism. I stim by braiding parts of my hair, rolling my ankles, rubbing my fingers against each other, rubbing my teeth against my lips, and many more odd semi things.
It means eye contact makes me feel sick, and unable to think. I give the deer in the headlights look. My eyes will snap close at times when I am trying to talk as clearly as I can.
It makes my visual impairment worse than it is. I have lack of tone control.I grew up asking dumb questions because I rarely assume anything. I enjoy the details of things I pick them apart like I use to pick apart my toys. I take things and people at face value. This means in most cases I am very much too trusting, which in many cases has gotten me hurt.
I very much have empathy unlike how mainstream wants people to think me, and others like me don’t. The truth is I feel too much…. I want to please everyone. I would hand over my last dollar to make your life easier, even if it would break me. There are times I seem to separate my empathy this is, so I can think about the things I need to. While I might not be the friend you go to for hugs; am the kind of person who can give you advice and tell you about that odd thing you didn’t think of.
I have obsessions that drive me to learn more about some subjects. It also means it is easiest for me talk to talk about said subjects. And in many cases, I can and do ramble about said subjects. Many times I don’t know when to well shut it.
In many cases, actually most people either love me or hate me…. Even my own mother.
I tend to take on the characteristics of friends without realizing it hoping that it would make them like me. I now know it does not. For a long while I didn’t even know who “I” was. If Sammy wanted to go to the park I wanted to go to the park. If Annie hated reading so did I, and so on and so forth. Because of doing this people didn’t to know the real me, well or they assumed I was lying.
Autism doesn’t define me, but I am not searching for a cure, it neither breaks nor makes me. I am a friend, a daughter, a cousin, writer, bookworm, and many more things first… But I am still a Autistic, and yes it is a disability.