autism

Navigating the world of work

I have had a very mixed experience with the world of employment. I often feel like I haven’t really achieved the things I’m capable of, haven’t got where I want to be in my career. Where I’m capable of. I don’t quite mean that I haven’t reached the pinnacle of my career yet, I mean that I, as I am today, right now, ought to be doing better than I am. I’m pretty sure this is not a uniquely autistic thing, but there are a few things I need to unpack about why I’ve struggled in work, so that I can move on and do better. I also really want to do this in a balanced way, so I can work out what I do well, as well as what I struggle with.

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Diagnosis

I am taking part in the Instagram Chronic Illness January Photo Challenge, and I thought I’d try and write a few blog posts to go along with the pictures I’m posting. Today’s theme is ‘Diagnosis’. One of my main motivations for writing about my experience with autism – aside from using the process of writing to help me work through my thought process – is to provide another voice for women who have lived a significant portion of their lives without knowing that they’re autistic. I’m certain I will know other people who are on the spectrum, but haven’t realised it, and if writing honestly about my experiences can help someone else make a connection with their own life then I feel I ought to do it.

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Christmas

This year was my 39th Christmas as an autistic person, but the first Christmas that I have known I’m autistic. It’s been interesting. One of the things I have found a little weird about exploring my autistic brain is that I keep getting these little moments of “Oh, that’s why I’ve always done this…”, and this Christmas has been no different. I had a big one today. I’ve been reading lost of posts from other autistics on Twitter talking about coping with Christmas – the sensory overload, having to be social, and how they survive it all – all the while thinking that I’ve never really had issues with Christmas. I did have a little weep yesterday (Christmas Day itself), but that was because I had a stinking cold and didn’t get enough sleep… wasn’t it??

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Stimming for mental health

Yesterday was tricky. I was doing a new thing that I’d never done before, and which necessitated me being around lots of noisy children for a prolonged period of time. (Tap dancing in a showcase, if you’re interested.) When we got home, I told my husband that he was not allowed to talk to me until I came out from under my duvet. Up until now, my duvet has been pretty much my only coping strategy, and as life is going through a difficult phase I feel like I’m using it all the time. Often I get home from work and go straight to bed. I’ve been eating meals in bed. I’ve been working in bed. It’s good, because it does help me feel better, but it’s quite limiting, and it’s affecting my relationships with my family, particularly my children.

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I say what I mean and I mean what I say

Autistic people aren’t supposed to be any good at communication. It’s this word that is always used – deficit – like there is something wrong or something lacking from the way we choose to communicate. Granted, autism is a spectrum, and some people on the spectrum do find communication difficult, and aren’t very good at it. But then, some people who aren’t on the spectrum also find communication difficult, and aren’t very good at it. I am *exceptionally* good at communicating my feelings, thoughts, opinions, and desires to other people. I say *exactly* what I mean, no more, no less. The trouble is, I have realised as I’ve got older, that most people don’t like this at all.

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Sensory issues?

I thought I couldn’t be autistic because I didn’t have any sensory issues. Then I remembered how much I hate stickers. Thin, shiny bit of paper that stick to your skin. Urgh. And then they peel up at the edges and when you brush up against them they make a flicking noise… it makes me cringe. I hate going on training courses where they make you wear name stickers. I have learned to tolerate it, but I will take them off as soon as I can. The trouble is, taking them off involves touching them, and then when you try to throw them away they get stuck to your fingers…

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Stimming

So here goes, the start of a self-exploration of what autism means to me. In this first blog I’m going to talk about stimming. The term ‘stimming’ refers to self-stimulating behaviours that are often used by people with autism or other developmental disorders. The most common one you’re likely to think of is flapping your hands – my son does this a lot when he’s excited! Some people rock, some people jiggle, hum, bang their head, make noises; there’s really no end to the variety of stims possible.

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Noise. (And a bit on music)

I’ve chosen noise as my next topic to explore as it’s one that fascinates me, and I haven’t quite got my head around it fully yet. I have a very mixed relationship with noise. I’m a musician by trade, and a music teacher. I LOVE noise. When I was teaching secondary music I could quite happily sit at my desk surrounded by a class of thirty kids playing keyboard while I marked my A level essays, and still be able to pick out the ones who were hitting the demo button instead of doing their work. My classroom was noisy and chaotic, and I loved it.

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Me and my autism

I have been thinking a lot lately about identifying as autistic, and why – especially as a person who thought I knew quite a bit about autism – it took me so long to realise that I have it myself. There are still a lot of misconceptions about what autism is and how it displays, particularly in females. When I was learning about autism in the late 90s, the lack of theory of mind was an essential part of diagnosis, and we were taught that autism is much less common in women, but much more severe. As I’ve been doing more recent research, I’ve found I don’t really identify with a lot of the prominent autistic female narratives that I’ve found in books or blogs. For this reason I’ve decided to explore this in a series of short blogs as I get a chance to put my thoughts down, partly as a way of making sense of it myself, and partly for any other women who feel different but don’t quite know why.

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