For starters, I am self diagnosed. I have brought it up to my family doctor, therapist and psychiatrist a few times. Each time I was shut down because I either didn’t have problems with communication (or some other dated reasoning) or that there was no point to be diagnosed as an adult because there are no support systems for that. Which was disheartening to say the least. I always knew I was not neurotypical but I didn’t have the words to describe it yet. I was just quirky, weird, introverted but also out spoken with a strong sense of justice. I began going down that rabbit whole because of tiktok, honestly. It had been on my radar before hand but I had an ignorant view on what autism was before that, I had never even heard of a female being diagnosed. I was however diagnosed with ADHD when I was 26. As well as schizotypal, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, generalized anxiety disorder and major depressive disorder. To name a few. None of them felt right to me. Until that is, I started listening and reading about autistic women when I was around 28. I had just had a 6 week trip to the mental health ward and was unknowingly on the road to the end of the bad relationship I was in (a blessing). That’s when I started seriously thinking I might be autistic. Four years later at 32 I have accepted my self diagnosis as truth and don’t doubt it nearly as often. I do sometimes wish I had an official diagnosis but I understand that’s asking for alot. Most doctors dont have the knowledge of what autism can look like in women, let alone that it is a spectrum.

I look forward to hearing your stories!

On the possibility that no one will respond to this post since our group is just beginning and I often ramble, I hope I will have the confidence to try again to begin some sort of engagement here. Thanks for taking the time to read this. Take care!

*Artwork done by me, @ strange.roots on Instagram. Just thought this post could use some colour.

  • schmorp
    link
    fedilink
    English
    21 year ago

    A lot of the stories in the comments sound relatable. Pondering about why I was so weird from a very young age, and finding different ways to cope with the weirdness. I also had a mother who didn’t really know how to help, who told me I couldn’t be depressed because I wasn’t suffering any hardship in life.

    Fortunately both parents were also fairly tolerant and gave me a lot of freedom when I was a teenager (guess they were overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do with me). They never forced me to fit in and reacted within reason when I dropped school. So what happened is I found ways to live that are doable for me - I found alternative spaces where my weirdness was accepted, did some fairly reckless shit in my youth but learned good lessons from it as well, and now I live in a good quiet spot, can work remotely and just interact with people when I like.

    An also autistic friend suggested I should look into autism when I was 35 and in a permanent frenzy of anxiety and depression, and most of the symptoms for autistic girls were just spot on and I finally understood my childhood weirdness. I guess I thought about it for quite a few years before coming to terms with it. I was looking into official diagnosis, was on a looong waiting list, and when they finally called me after 3 years I didn’t feel the need anymore. Whatever official support exists for adults in the country I live in is not worth it. I am not even comfortable with terms like ‘ASD’ anymore, because I’m not disordered, I’m different, and don’t want to receive treatment in a system where I am called that.

    As for some of the physical limitations coming with it, I have found adaptations to manage life without having to attach a disability label to myself. One of my special interests, thanks to not-so-great joints tendons and bones hindering my desktop work, are alternative input devices. So far I am happy with my mouseboard v1 where I use my feet for clicking mouse buttons, which allows for a greater range of movements when I sit at my desk. It saves my tendons. I am also lucky (or well set up with a garden) and don’t work more than 3 or 4 hours a day ever, lots of outdoor activity inbetween.

    So now I am happily Neurofunky. And meet a lot of other people like me, with their adaptations, and no need for a ‘Disordered’ label.