#and since a lot of neurotypical people can’t recognize a high functioning autistic person as autistic

[brooklynisher]

I love being in a fandom filled with autistic people

If I wasn’t, then I think everyone would just assume I was like 9 years old

[rustybutterknife]

Hi, I have recently started writing a lot, and I have only write neurotypical charaters in my stories. I wanted to ask if you could give me any insight on how to write a autistic charater or a charater with ADHD! I would really appreciate the help!

!!! thank you so much for asking me, i’m genuinely flattered!! okay so some tips:

(under the cut)

1. DO YOUR RESEARCH!!! Ask people who are autistic/have ADHD!! ~If you don’t know any, here are some good sites sources:

Autism:

https://autisticadvocacy.org/about-asan/about-autism/

https://theoraah.tumblr.com/post/142300214156/understanding-the-spectrum

https://www.deviantart.com/onthemountaintop/art/My-Life-with-Asperger-s-588279880

(Asperger's and autism have recently combined into one diagnosis, since those with Asperger’s fall under the autism spectrum umbrella, but haven’t been receiving any of the resources they made need because they’re more “high functioning”) 

ADHD:

https://adhd-alien.tumblr.com/post/185794452434/everyone-has-to-do-things-they-dont-like

https://adhd-alien.tumblr.com/post/185521057744/why-can-you-do-it-now-and-not-earlier-why-can?is_related_post=1

https://www.reddit.com/r/ADHDAlien/comments/drnko7/a_simplified_overview_of_the_3_adhd_types/

(yes I know they’re all posts from the same person but THEY’RE SUCH A GOOD SOURCE AND THEY’RE SO ACCURATE!!!)

2. The media isn’t always accurate!!!

recognize that what the media tells you isn’t always true to what ADHD/Autistic people are like. Unless the character was created by someone who’s also neurodivergent/consulted by someone who is, then DON’T TRUST THEM!!!Sadly, the amount of autistic/ADHD characters i’ve seen with poor representation outweighs the good.

I personally haven’t seen much, if any representation for ADHD in the media. However, for autism, i’ve seen a good handful of characters with autism.

Bad representation: 

- SHELDON COOPER SHELDON COOPER SHELDON COOPER

- Sam from Atypical

-Sherlock Holmes

-That one kid from that episode of Arthur

-Shawn from The Good Doctor

-FUCKING CALEB FROM BIG MOUTH

Good representation:

-Julia from Sesame Street.  

-That one girl from the animated short “Loop” by Pixar.

-uhhhh that’s about it.

What really pisses me off is when those with Autism are portrayed as either “r*tards,” or “superhuman geniuses.” Because that is not always the case. Because guess what? We all thrive in different areas, just like neurotypicals. 

3. Recognize stereotypes.

ADHD isn’t always “squirrel!!11!!!! XD” and Autism isn’t always “UwU smart bean who can’t recognize sarcasm uwuwuwu”

People with ADHD aren’t always hyperactive and bouncing off the walls, distracted by every single little thing. Autistics aren’t “pure innocent clueless smol beans I need to protect.”

Because guess what?

I’m both autistic and have ADHD.

I was able able to:

-learn 2 instruments

-get into the 3rd best school in my state

-have a really good memory for LGBT history and psychology facts

-recite entire musical soundtracks by memory

-memorize important dates

-have a talent for cooking and drawing

But guess what?

I also:

-can’t memorize faces or names

-can’t read streets

-take a few special ed classes

-can’t always tell when people are sarcastic or joking

-have made people uncomfortable by accident, and not realized it until afterwards (This could take minutes to YEARS for me to realize)

-Struggle with articulating myself in person

-can’t remember left from right without doing the hand thing (also can’t remember which ways North, east, south, and west are without doing the “never eat soggy waffles” thing)

-stim in stereotypical and more open ways (Spinny chairs, bouncing in a trampoline chair I have, scrunch my face up while sticking my tongue out)

-bang my head/back against hard objects while stressed

-put things into my mouth “like a toddler” (sorry to all my pencils, pens, sweater sleeves, blankets, and paintbrushes)

-scream/shriek when overwhelmed 

-can’t FUCKING SPELL 

-can’t learn languages easily (I have a 42% in Spanish... I’m Mexican with Spanish speaking parents.)

-was bullied and ostracized by both teachers and other peers in elementary school for being “the weird, r*tarded kid” (The 2nd principal that replaced the first was ableist as fuck, but we don’t talk about her.)

so I guess just realize that neurodiversity is a spectrum, and that no 2 people experience their disorders the same way!

(one of my lightbulbs just went out and i’ve used up almost half of my battery on this post, whoops!)

[inside-aut-blog]

On functioning labels

We’ve all heard them. Most everyone uses them—doctors, therapists, people on TV, people on the street, maybe even your auntie whose son is autistic....

We’ve all heard them, and most everyone uses them—everyone, that is, except a very large number of actually autistic people, myself included.

Why?

Well—a number of reasons, but it’s easiest explained like this: let me tell you a story.

We’ve got two autistics—and stop me if you’ve heard this one before, I’m not the first to tell it—but we’ve got two autistics. One’s called Allie, and the other’s Fred.

Let’s start with Allie.

Allie can carry a conversation. She went to a good university and got good grades. She transitioned from student housing to her own apartment, and held down a part-time job all through school. She now has an internship in a special-interest-related field, works freelance on the side, and is independently paying off her student loans. She can control her stimming in public settings and she can navigate public transportation. She has fairly few sensory issues, and is rarely overwhelmed by them; when she is, she is able to calm herself. She accepts and gives hugs regularly. She’s a bit quiet, but she can carry on a conversation, and while she occasionally struggles to pick up on jokes, she’s got the hang of sarcasm. Her speech is a bit stilted sometimes, sure, but her vocabulary’s expansive, and she can write very eloquently. She tends to be pretty literal, but she’s also extremely intelligent and analytical, and those traits—along with her autistic eye for detail— help her understand subtlety very well. She sets flexible routines for herself to counteract the difficulty she faces doing things spontaneously. She is often trusted to look after and manage others. She’s highly empathetic. She can pass for neurotypical.

So that’s Allie.

Now let’s talk about Fred.

Fred often struggles to speak. He also went to university and had his own apartment, but had a lot of trouble keeping on top of academics, and even more trouble with basic life skills. He often forgot to do laundry, wash himself, brush his teeth, comb his hair, buy groceries, cook meals, and eat. He has since moved back home. He stims almost constantly, even in public settings, and grows very anxious on public transportation. He can’t drive, either, because it overwhelms him. His sensory issues cause daily trouble—he jumps violently at sudden sounds, cannot eat several common foods, and hates to be touched. When he gets overwhelmed, he screams and hurts himself. He struggles to understand sarcasm. He often gets stuck on particular lines of conversation, communicates largely through echolalia and pre-scripted speech, and very frequently forgets words mid-sentence. Sometimes—especially with new people—he cannot speak at all. He instinctively sees everything in black-and-white and struggles to internalize nuance. He thrives on routine and grows very anxious and very angry when his routines are broken unexpectedly. When he absolutely must do something new, he often needs someone to go with him. He has low empathy. He is frequently very visibly autistic.

So there’s Fred.

So you’ve got both of them now, two neat little life stories, Allie and Fred, Fred and Allie.

So.

Which of them is high-functioning? Which of them is low-functioning?

Allie and Fred respectively, right?

Wrong.

They’re the same person.

And they’re not hypothetical. They’re both me.

I’m Allie, and I’m Fred.

And here’s the kicker—something that sometimes gets missed out but is pretty important, a little bit crucial, kind-of-sort-of absolutely vital—I’m always both of them.

Sure, sometimes it depends on the day, whether I look more like Allie or more like Tim, and sure, circumstances and support levels and energy levels can all make a world of difference—but most often I am both of them at the exact same time, under the exact same circumstances.

I can hold down a completely average back-and-forth conversation, but still be unable to initiate that conversation, and still struggle to remember basic words in the middle of it, and still struggle to bring it to a natural close.

I can succeed in school and still struggle to complete my assignments, get them turned in at the very last minute or even late.

I can make myself three meals a day according to the strict series of alarms I’ve set myself, using my autistic love of routine to counterract my autistic insensitivity to hunger, but still forget to eat them afterward.

I can remember to shower, but forget to brush my teeth, and vice versa. I can remember to wash my hair, but forget to comb it. I can wash my clothes without issue, but forget to move them into the dryer afterward. I can dry my clothes but forget to put them away.

I can navigate public transportation without error and also be extremely anxious the whole time.

I can control my stimming in public and still stim furiously when I get home. (I can also be perfectly able to control my stimming in public, but choose not to do so—as is often the case, because stimming is a very helpful coping mechanism, and also just fun, and I don’t care if strangers think it’s weird because I know it doesn’t hurt them.)

I can have few sensory issues and still struggle noticeably with those few.

I can hate to be touched and still grin and bear it. (I can also hate receiving hugs and not mind giving them.)

I can calm myself when I get overwhelmed using coping skills and also struggle to do so. (I can calm myself when overwhelmed without much effort using coping skills that alarm other people—like body stimming, screaming, or self-harm.)

I can use sarcasm but still have trouble understanding when others use it. I can speak very eloquently while still relying heavily on echolalia and scripts. I can write beautifully when I am not able to speak a single word.

I can struggle heavily with the black-and-white thinking that comes so much more naturally to me and still force myself to use my critical thinking skills to spot nuance. (I can still struggle to internalize this nuance once I have spotted it.)

I can cope with spontaneity and still have immediate, instinctive emotional reactions to breaks in routine. (I can have a meltdown and force myself to cope afterwards.) I can cope with new situations and still need someone shadowing me. (Having someone shadow you is a way to cope in itself.)

I can have high empathy for objects or fictional characters and little to none for real, actual people. I can care very much about people’s feelings and still not understand what those feelings are. I can analyze the reasons behind someone’s feelings and still not recognize them on their face or in their voice. I can recognize feelings on someone’s face or in their voice and still not know what to do about them. I can want to comfort people and not know how.

I can have the ability to pass as neurotypical at one given moment but not another. I can have the ability to pass as neurotypical in a given moment and simply choose not to. I can choose to pass as neurotypical, and succeed in passing as neurotypical to some of the people I interact with, and not succeed with others.

I can do all of this at the same time, within the same day, the same hour. Even the same moment, if I’m feeling extra spicy autistic.

I routinely do.

Because all of these experiences—these strengths, weaknesses, traits—are part of my life. None of them cancel each other out, because they can’t—they’re all equally inherent to who I am as a person. So they coexist, even if they seem contradictory.

Because I’m contradictory. Because I’m a person, and I’m multifaceted, and nuanced—people are like that, or so I hear.

Autistics are no exception.

You can’t split us so easily into high- or low-functioning, because to do so is to ignore other vital aspects of our experiences.

To do so, put simply, is both dehumanizing and inaccurate.

And, as well—to do so is to box us into one rigid experience or another: one in which people focus only on the things we can do and ignore those we can’t, or one in which people focus only on the things we cannot do and ignore all of the things we can.

Because the labels come with stereotypes—as the common thinking goes, “high-functioning” autistics never really struggle and can do anything they want without any help, while “low-functioning” autistics do nothing but struggle, have very little, if any, potential, and are to be pitied.

That is, of course, nonsense.

So in both experiences the true scope of our abilities is overlooked. (People hearing the labels have no clue what we’re capable of, but they think they do, and they generally act accordingly.)

And, as well, in both experiences we are spoken over by others—by those who think they should be allowed to decide what we are like, and what our futures will be like, and categorize us and compare us to each other and pit us against each other, elevating some autistics above others, as a means of determining our ability to “function” in society. (Which is to say, of course, our worth to society, how much we inconvenience society—because functioning labels don’t express how we experience our autism; rather, they express how others experience our autism.)

So, all told, why don’t autistics like functioning labels?

Because they are not only dehumanizing, inaccurate, and unnecessarily rigid—they’re also not even helpful (to anyone—us or others).

There’s no good reason to use them. We’d like it to stop.

And, personally, if any neurotypical tries to ascribe either label to me—or to any autistics around me, for that matter—I’m going to make a hell of a fuss.

Because we’re autistic, and we’re here, and we can can hear you.

[miishae-archived]

Copied and pasted from an old rp blog of mine, that I feel is very important to read:

Question I was asked: ❝MAY I ASK SOMETHING ABOUT AUTISM AND THE COMMUNITY? I KNOW YOU CAN ONLY SPEAK FOR YOURSELF SO I WILL KEEP IT MORE CENTERED TI YOUR PERSONAL PREFERENCES AND WHAT YOU'VE SEEN TO BE A GENERAL CONSENSUS?❞

Not very many people are aware what Autism or even Autism Spectrum Disorder is. Honestly, I’ve seen a lot of people tend to think of it as “diaper wearing, drooling idiots”

I’m going to start off by talking about my own personality first, and why it should not be outright dismissed as being ‘oversensitive’.

I am on the spectrum disorder. I’m very high functioning, as in, I am able to live on my own, with a boyfriend. I’m able to work, I’m able to walk around in society without causing a disturbance. But just because I appear ‘normal’ doesn’t mean I am.

I’m very very awkward. I get emotional and burnt out really quickly, especially in social situations. I don’t like physical contact, and I don’t like people yapping at me constantly. This is sensory overload. I get tired and cranky, and a lot of times am seen as rude for this.

This is just the tip of the iceberg for how little people understand autism. I constantly have to point it out, because even my loved ones don’t understand me. I can talk to someone over and over about not touching me or shutting up for awhile and giving me some space, and they’d just ask me a lot of questions that really don’t need answering.

I don’t talk much, and it’s not because I’m shy or introverted. I was originally diagnosed with having Nonverbal Learning Disorder, and while I don’t know if that is an outdated diagnosis or not, it aptly describes my social skills still. Link

How it relates to me personally though: I suck at social cues. I suck at maintaining eye contact, I don’t read body language well, and I tend to be brutally honest to a fault. What I think is a reasonable and fair statement can come across as rude and offensive to someone else. It was not my intention to be rude, and since people would rather be offended and passive aggressive, I don’t know how else to word things and I’m sorry, but you need to work with me and not shut down on me. How else am I going to learn how to interact with you?

I’m also incredibly literal minded. I know on tumblr it seems like I’m sarcastic and witty, and I know I crack a lot of jokes, but you would not believe the amount of times I’ve had to go to someone off tumblr and ask “what did this person mean? I don’t understand.”

It’s literally because I don’t understand you. I don’t get a lot of metaphors or jokes, and everyone else will be laughing and I’m sitting over here like “I don’t get it?” and no one wants to explain the joke because “I mean, it’s obvious!” No, it isn’t. Not to me.

I also tend to get hung up on certain things for long periods of time. I hate change in my routine. I hate changing things up because honesty: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. But as far as ‘obsessions’ go? Video games comes to mind. I could tell you all about the Borderlands series and how it’s a great game filled with fan-fucking-tastic characters and how it’s an entire world built on survival and it’s dystopian and cyberpunk and-

Or I could tell you when I was a kid and the LOTR moves first came out, I was obsessed with them. I launched into repeated lectures about how the behind-the-scenes worked, or how they did this camera trick, or why that scene was the best to film, and OH did you know Viggo Mortensen was not the original Aragorn? He was called in last minute and only came on because his son was a huge fan and pushed his dad into filming.

I know no one actually cares, but I still care. If you let me talk about something I care about, I will TALK.

This is just the personality side of autism. How ableism comes into play is very subtle. And everyone can be ableist. Friends and family who come to me asking to understand, only to say “okay cool” and forget about it ten minutes later.

I have friends who casually throw around the R-slur. I catch myself using it from time to time, and I’m desperately working to unlearn it. But that word is so heavily used by so many people, and it’s so insulting to hear it thrown around so casually. But worse than that are the people who actually use ‘autism’ as a slur.

“A guy complaining about being friendzoned? He’s autistic.”

“If you play Minecraft you’re autistic I don’t make the rules.”

First off, statements like these are annoying, because they lump a good majority of people into one category, and second off, it’s assumed that people who are autistic are drooling idiots.

There’s a reason it’s a fucking spectrum, okay? I know quite a few people who are on the spectrum, and I’ve heard of other people who are on the spectrum. Everyone has different levels of coping and living. I’m not my cousin, who does need help, because he can’t function on his own.

I’m probably worse off than someone who can hold a stable job and learn to drive and fully function, and I admit that I do need my hand held on some things.

It’s quite possible to unlearn your way of thinking. Quit throwing around slurs as insults. They’re insulting, and frankly, tired. If you want to insult someone, there are far more creative ways to do so.

But it’s not just insults that are the problem. It’s people not caring enough. It’s people who feel the need to speak over us. You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t find insulting. Frankly, I can’t stand blanket “these words are ableist” lists, because more often than not, they’re written by neurotypicals who are trying to appear Woke™, except that they argue with actual NDs who disagree with their assessment.

Also, and this is a BIG ONE FOR ME

DO NOT ASSUME EVERYONE WITH AUTISM IS A CHILD. I am so tired of seeing mental health awareness posts right here on fucking TUMBLR, of all places, with messages for children. I am 33 years old. I’m so far from a child or even a teenager, and I feel like putting my hair in pigtails and wearing little jumpers every time I see one of these super condescending PSAs about mental health awareness or autism awareness. Adults with autism exist, please quit excluding us in your misguided efforts to raise awareness.

I do agree that it’s not my job to educate you. You can ask questions, and I can answer, but I’m not your encyclopedia source. There are tons of helpful links and websites you can go to learn more about autism, spectrum disorder, and anything else that might be linked.

That being said, don’t go the opposite direction and completely ignore its existence. By ignoring it, you’re only contributing to the rampancy that ableism is. It’s very real and very damaging. It’s big things, like me being denied food stamps in my state because they didn’t believe I was disabled and I couldn’t get proof without them wanting to assign a counselor and them wanting to thrust me into the working world anyway (which was the whole reason I mentioned I was autistic, because I need fucking help?) and little things like “You’re too sensitive, just deal with it.”

Ask questions. Look up resources. Not just for autism, but for anything related to mental health or physical health. Ableism is rampant in able-bodied people too. My brother in law is in a wheelchair and faces quite a bit of ableism himself.

All this being said, please please watch how you talk/interact with people. Much like I need to learn social cues and how to interact with you, You guys need to understand that my personality isn’t going to change. This is literally who I am, and who I always will be, so you have to be patient. You have to recognize that I’m trying, and I’m not perfect.

And most importantly of all I guess, we’re not disabled. We’re different. We think differently, and we act a little off. But we’re not bad people. Not all of us, at least. (There are people who play up the “I’m-disabled-be-nice-to-me card” and they should be held accountable for their horrible actions)

Personally, I’m trying. I’m tired, and exhausted, and lonely. I have next to nobody to rely on, and I know I have a lifetime of learning how to behave better ahead of me, and I’m just tired. but I’m still hanging in there, in the best way I know how: by being me. If I can educate myself and learn about how ableism is a problem, so can you.