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“Don’t let this diagnosis change you.”

I am autistic. Wow. I know. But if feels so good now to say it. At 32 years old, I was finally given the diagnosis that brought so many years of mental confusion, anguish, suffering.. all of it full circle.

I’ve spent nearly four years in (consistent) therapy healing from cPTSD, anorexia, and the many symptoms that accompany them. No matter how hard I tried- there were some aspects of my personality, behavior, and perceptions that I could not find justifications for nor fit the ‘healing’ mold. Aspects I hid from my therapist(s) because those aspects didn’t fall in line with my mental illnesses and my god - couldn’t possibly be something untreatable. They couldn’t possibly be just who I am.

Masking (unknowingly to me) for so many years prevented me from asking the questions I needed to. I thought fuck, at some point in this healing these things will get better. At some point these things won’t be a struggle for me anymore. I just have to keep trying to change... right? But that point never came. I couldn’t change these things no matter how hard I tried. Frustration became a constant emotional state. Confusion became reality. Coping mechanisms became toxic. After many autistic breakdowns, one big burnout, and a stranger’s question - I was finally able to ask why. Why can’t I handle sudden changes in plans? Why are my routines so fundamental to me? Why do I hate surprises? Why do I become so easily distracted at any disruption to my routine, and then hyper focus to the point of exhaustion on that thing? Why do changes out of my control or without my knowledge piss me off for being irritated? Why do I notice and note any change, no matter how subtle? Why do I become obsessed to the point of perfection and eventually exhaustion with any new hobby or interest? Why do I feel when I’m communicating effectively do others still misinterpret what I’m expressing? Why do I misjudge the body language/facial expressions of others so often? Why is making eye contact so uncomfortable? Why do I panic when I see anyone I know in public and avoid them at all costs? Why do I truly dislike meeting new people? Why does it make my skin crawl when things aren’t put back in their homes I’ve spent too many hours finding? Why do I seek out patterns in everything: people, lengths, colors, words? Why have I talked to myself (but a different version of me) since I could first speak? Why am I highly sensitive to smells/scents and extremely triggered by certain ones to the point it’s physically painful? Why do I rehearse nearly every conversation I have from going through a checkout line to deeply intellectual intimate things and can’t focus or become mute when I haven’t had enough time to prepare? Why do I feel comfort when talking about things I’m interested in or can relate to while struggling to find enthusiasm to talk about anything that doesn’t spark curiosity? My god, why am I so fucked up still?

And these are only a handful of questions I could not find the answers to no matter how hard I tried to relate it to my other diagnosis. Answers I would never find until I questioned, “Why?” because these traits were not symptoms of mental illnesses. These traits are how my brain is wired. How I have to navigate through this world that isn’t kind to people who appear ‘normal’ or ‘high functioning’ because we aren’t nonverbal or stimming constantly. A world quick to attempt to find any fault they can vs. acceptance and compassion. A world especially dishearteningly skeptical of those diagnosed in adulthood. A world of people, myself included, whom are ignorant to how vast the NOT LINEAR spectrum is that need to stop stigmatizing autism and do the homework.

I looked for answers in astrology and found that my profile is cosmically an inconsistent cluster fuck that leads me to constantly be torn between three sign spectrums. Okay, that makes sense, but why can’t I recognize where I am at on any one of the three spectrums at any given time? My therapist embraced my curiosity, but reminded me not to try and rationalize the irrational.

I looked for answers in memory triggering to see if somehow I had repressed a majorly traumatic event that altered my brain significantly. I mean, something must have caused all this, right? Something made me be this way! My memories are accurately intact, and my therapist applauded seeking to care for that inner child, but we found out that little child I was trying to heal wasn’t me. My inner child remembers everything with unwavering clarity.

I even thought I was a narcissist at some point from others seeing my neurodivergence as selfish and uncaring. My therapist laughed and told me the fact that I questioned if I could be a narcissist proves in itself that I am not. Narcissistic people never wonder if they are because they believe they do no wrong. Okay, comforting, but why am I still so rigid in my control and things needing to be done ‘the right way?’

If I’ve found how to function with the cPTSD and I’ve found how to function with the anorexia, then what the fuck is going on that I can’t function, let alone try to heal, from these so seemingly trivial but profoundly life altering things? Why wasn’t I asking the questions I needed to find the answer I deserved. The answer that couldn’t possibly be autism because society has manipulated the mold convincing me I didn’t fit in. I don’t have all the “common” traits. I certainly don’t “look” autistic. There’s no way... is there?

Being an undiagnosed autistic child lead to years of emotional neglect and trauma. Emotionally I was both forced to ‘grow up at a young age’ and stunted from being taught what healthy relationships and boundaries look like. Naturally this trauma ignited cPTSD. The constant confusion and lack of control over my own reality/life manifested control over what I did or did not put into my body. Recipe for years upon years of mental collapses, relationship struggles, physical pain and sensitivity to neurological stimuli, and a deeply overwhelmingly smothering feeling of being unfit for this world. I won’t say having this diagnosis this late in life has been all sunshine and rainbows, but I will say it has answered some questions and provided me with a new outlook on my own life so I can be better to myself. I’m not broken. I’m not eternally destined for pain and confusion. I’m not any less of a person than anyone else. I’m autistic.

I won’t lie - I’m still wrapping my head around this- months after my diagnosis. It’s still hard to accept that this isn’t treatable. This isn’t going to lessen with time. This isn’t going to become more tolerable. This isn’t going to cease with more healing. This is my life. These things are like being born with brown hair, only one arm, attracted to the same gender, an extra chromosome. It’s how you’re made. How I was made. And now how I must reorganize my world to stop beating myself up for the things I can’t change. Now I need to accept myself for who I am. Now I need to embrace my neurodivergence and the traits that accompany it. Some may notice the acceptance as changes or say “Well, you didn’t seem to have a problem with that before,” or “Don’t let this diagnosis change you.” I will say bravely and unapologetically: “I’m the exact same person. I always had these traits, and I’m not going to be quiet suffering in silence anymore. Autistic people can be loud and should be especially loud when being gaslighted by the oh-so-blessed neurotypical people. Accept us for who we are or kindly fuck off.”

Thanks for coming to my World Autism Awareness Day tedTalk.

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Larrabee State Park, near Bellingham, Washington, May, 1973

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Shh! We’re hiding, don’t tell! 

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“A couple of times in your life, it happens like that. you meet a stranger, and all you know is that you need to know everything about them.”

— Lisa Kleypas

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This is by Maud Lewis a Folk Artist from Nova Scotia.

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So many good stretches going on here, and bean holders ARE the masters of stretching. Take notes. Ya’ll take care now and stretch all the way down through your beans too.

When cats stretch and spread their little toebeans out, reblog if you agree

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“The pedestal upon which women have been placed has all too often, upon closer inspection, been revealed as a cage.” – Ruth Bader Ginsburg

On the Basis of Sex (2018)

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“You can’t just sit there and put everybody’s lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love.”

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Sleeping Cat Becomes One With Japanese Zen Garden