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telekinsesis · 4 years

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It wasn’t obvious that I was autistic when I was a child. As a result I wasn’t diagnosed until I was 16, after years of severe mental health problems. Here are some of the signs of me being autistic which may have been somewhat visible to others. - a thread. /1

I was exceptionally obedient. I wasn’t just a well behaved child. I was extremely well behaved. I did everything exactly as I was told, all the time, even when this caused me stress, anxiety or even pain. /2

I don't really remember this time but I always get told that as a kid I acted almost like a grown up and managed to do stuff like cutting my own food from an extremely young age. I didn't cry in my baptism while all the other toddlers did.

My perfectionism. From very young I was obsessed with making sure everything I did was perfect. I wanted 100% in tests. I couldn’t cope with the idea of something not being perfect. This resulted in me revising obsessively and redoing homework multiple times. /3

I don't think I was ever a perfectionist in things like school work I was very applied and got high grades and it bugged me a lot when I was one or two points away from the Highest grade or didn't win a competition. I don't think it's noteworthy.

The intensity with which I liked to read. I read non-stop all the time. Sometimes I read 3 full novels a day. Reading was my escape, something to focus on when the world around me was too much. I read obsessively. /4

While my reading habits have vastly changed and I mostly read fanfictions or small reads now, I used to be a huge reader and could read for hours and finished books very quickly because of how invested I got. Everything around me would disappear and I was able to tune it all out when I got into a book, I wouldn't feel time passing or people addressing me.

My intense interests. I wrote books and couldn’t focus on anything else but the book I was writing. I watched Harry Potter over and over again, read all about the making of it, pretended to be like Hermione Granger, learned as much as I could and acted it all out. /5

My inability to regulate the volume of my voice and know when my turn was to speak in conversation. I was always told I was talking too loud. I was constantly told to ‘use your indoor voice’. At school I was the ‘loud one’. I still can struggle to regulate the volume now. /6

More than being too loud, what I struggle with now is not being loud or clear enough.

I often interrupted people (sometimes even now) because I didn’t know when was my turn to speak. I didn’t get the normal social cues everyone else appeared to get in conversations. /7

I have no idea if I do this or not since I don't talk to strangers and haven't met anyone new in ages.

Taking things literally, though not always super obvious. e.g. my primary school teacher telling me to ‘write as much as you can’ would result in me writing 20 pages while the rest of the class wrote 2. /8

I can't remember if I do this but I do know that vague comments like those drive me insane. I need to be told exactly how much is "as much", how much or how little I'm able to write (in this example), sometimes asking for specifics can annoy people.

My hatred of swimming. I hated it. I hated the feeling of being wet. I struggled to regulate the temperature changes. I hated the feeling of the changing rooms. Swimming was a sensory nightmare, to the point I faked being sick to get out of a school swimming lesson. /9

My difficulty wearing certain materials such as tights. I was allowed to wear leggings instead of tights at school because tights would bring my legs out in rashes and it would be so itchy and uncomfortable that I wouldn’t be able to sit still. /10

I still consider this to be perfectly normal, some textures just don't feel good in my skin so I won't wear them, and I usually assume it's everybody's case.

My difficulty regulating temperature would leave me with red hot feet at night, which then were itchy and irritable. The only thing that helped this was bathing in ice cold water and using cooling gel. This continued every night in the middle of the night for years. /11

I struggled to understand sarcasm. My friends used to laugh at me for not understanding it. My family used to be surprised that for ‘someone so clever’ I didn’t understand normal jokes/sarcasm. /12

From around year 3, I struggled to fall sleep because I was constantly overthinking everything. I hated night-time because of this and struggled at sleepovers. /13

I was bullied at primary school. I always felt left out and felt that other kids didn’t like me. I was told I was many things and made to feel insecure and anxious on a daily basis by kids at school. /14

While I adapted better in primary school (not that I still wasn't or felt different), bullying really started in high school.

I was very intolerant of certain noises, which I call ‘annoying noises’. For example, people sniffing and my brother making noises were two which really agitated me when I was younger. I was often told I needed to be more patient and tolerant. /15

Sometimes I noticed little things people around me do or say and it stresses me out but I assume it's just me being irritable since it's not a daily occurrence.

This list simply shows some of the things which may have been obvious to others when I was young. None of these things on their own indicates autism. My autism is these things put together plus all the internal stuff, the way my brain works and less obvious autistic traits. /16

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mojoflower · 5 years

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My child with CIDP (a chronic neurologic illness)

Thank you for asking, @sunshinemeansmylove. I’m always happy to share our story -- it’s cathartic. And also, *I find it interesting, so I assume others do, too ;)

Almost ten years ago, when Phoenix had just turned 5, he started walking oddly. We didn’t think much of it for a day or two, because he didn’t complain of anything hurting. It got bad enough that one of his preschool teachers asked about it, so we took him in for x-rays and whatnot. But they found nothing. They put him in a boot for possible Kholer Disease, just in case (I don’t even know what that doctor was thinking), and with the boot, he essentially stopped walking altogether, and kept saying he didn’t want to go to preschool anymore: so I took him out.

Within a week he’d stopped playing as much. He appeared quite content just watching everyone else play. He’d only stand on sidewalks instead of going on the grass. (You need to know that he already had a long history of medical shit, because he didn’t walk until after 2, and didn’t talk until late, and was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Delay and “symptoms relating to autism” and had had 3 years of intensive therapies and Early Intervention by this point. So I figured the grass thing was sensory, instead of balance.)

He started doing stairs on his bottom, instead of walking, and one day he fell down them. (We’d moved into a new house... with stairs... only 4 months earlier. Of course.) The next day, he was on the living room floor, playing with his matchbox cars, and couldn’t get up. That was the last time he stood for weeks.

All this time, he remained sweet-natured and amenable and never said that anything hurt. But now he couldn’t walk and couldn’t stand. We rushed him to the Children’s Hospital (which in Atlanta is very reputable, thankfuckinggod). They ran tests. Oh, god, they ran tests. He didn’t have reflexes at all, and couldn’t feel his hands and feet. This is hands-down the most terrifying period of my life, ever.

Finally, with a spinal tap and a horrifically invasive and ghastly and painful EMG test (wherein they jab a pin into your thigh muscle, poke another further down the leg and run an electrical current between the two to measure degree of blockage in the transmission). Phoenix had complete nerve conduction blockage (100% paralysis of his legs... it was moderately better in his arms and hands).

He cried and screamed and begged me and Daddy to help him while the doctor was doing this (it took something like half an hour). But they couldn’t give him pain killers or tranquilizers of just knock him out, b/c that would have messed with their results, so we had to hold him down. It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and to this day I won’t go to the hospital without a bottle of xanax in my purse, because the doctors can’t prescribe it for the parents, even though EVERYONE NEEDS IT, because you have to be calm for your kid. Fuck, I’m crying just thinking about it.

We brought him everywhere in a little red wagon, which CHOA uses instead of wheelchairs, all nestled up with blankets and his lambie.

(One utterly thoughtless fucker -- not his neurologist -- said if his nerves didn’t work and it was progressive, it’d eventually move up his arms and legs until it reached his heart and lungs and suppressed breathing and then he’d die. Which is factually true, but jesus christ.)

We thought he was going to die. Over less than 20 days he’d gone from normal(-ish) healthy kid to a lump in a hospital bed who couldn’t move his legs at all and couldn’t wrap his hands around anything, couldn’t hold you back when you held him.

CIDP in children is incredibly rare. It’s a super-rare condition regardless, but usually people get it as adults (average age 50). It’s something like .000005% of the population. Like, maybe there are 20 kids in the entirety of metro Atlanta who have it. CIDP is a neuropathy in which the person’s immune system begins attacking the insulating sheath (myelin) around nerve cells, starting at the peripheral nervous system (hands/feet, legs/arms). Without this fatty sheath, electrical signals from the brain simply don’t transmit to the muscles. In many cases, there’s intense, phantom pain associated with it, but thankfully, Phoenix has only ever been numb, and I pray with my whole atheist heart and soul that it never changes.

But we lucked out, and the neurologist we got at CHOA identified CIDP fairly quickly (within a week, during which we never left the hospital, of course) and started him on IVIg. IVIg is intravenous immunoglobulin -- essentially strained human plasma -- to remove all but the specific antibody Ig.

(SO PLEASE: GO DONATE OR SELL YOUR PLASMA, it’s keeping kids like mine out of wheelchairs. It costs more than gold, it cannot be synthesized or taken from animals. They don’t know the exact mechanism by which it works (they call it a “black box”) but it does, and it’s fucking miraculous.)

With sufficient IVIg, the myelin sheath is repaired fairly rapidly. At first, he needed infusions every three days. (Generally, specialists told me, kids his age will go into remission after a year or two. Phoenix, bless, is special and never has, even though I kept waiting and waiting. Almost ten years later, and he’s steady like clockwork, remission never on the horizon.) Over the years, we’ve managed to stretch the intervals to 15 weeks. Which is great, because insurance HATES US: the pharmacy cost alone is easily $100k+ a year, not to mention hospital stays and clinics. Annually, we have to defend his need to go at whatever interval it is at the time, they’re always pushing us to stretch it further.

So he’s been on maintenance for many years. There are some visual cues if he begins to decline, like his feet slapping when he walks, or using the bannister with two hands when he goes upstairs, but it’s not always that obvious. This week, I asked him if it was the CIDP when he tried to get out of band practice for the third time, and he said yes, but I don’t see those other cues (although he’s been laying on the sofa for a few weeks and has stopped hanging out with his friends and is sleeping longer) so I don’t know if I just handed him a really good excuse to stay home and play computer games.

He’s been low-key complaining for about a week, and our next IVIg appointment isn’t until Oct. 1st. You have to schedule months in advance so rescheduling for earlier isn’t possible, not to mention insurance will gleefully not pay if it’s earlier than 15 weeks (which means $9-$17k out of pocket, depending on the whimsy/voodoo of the hospital billing department).

So. Yeah. This is what it’s like to have a child with a chronic illness. (CIDP is Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy, btw. It’s essentially the lifelong version of Guillain-Barré, that thing you see warning signs about when you go get your flu shot. It can only be maintained, not cured.) This is a good example of why it’s so vital for laws to prevent insurance companies from turning people down due to preexisting conditions.

It’s hard, as a parent. He could be a typical teen who’d rather not spend all day in school... or his nervous system could very literally be slowly deteriorating. I have to make judgement calls all the time, and sometimes I’m wrong. It’s kind of terrifying.

#cidp #pediatric cidp #ivig #chronic illness #children with chronic illnesses #parenting is hard #mojo worries #mojo muses #sunshinemeansmylove

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the-apples-were-monitored · 5 years

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Hey. So, I've had thoughts that I might be autistic for a while, but I'm not sure how to proceed because I fear people might think I'm just looking for attention. I'm also BPD, so I do wonder if it's me just projecting or something. I'm a girl and have read that it's more "difficult" to diagnose in girls. Do you have any advice I could use? Thank you.

BPD is one of the most common misdiagnoses for autism (I’m just unlucky that I happen to have both, though there is an overlap in symptoms). The only reason it’s more difficult to diagnose autism in girls is because they look for stereotypical male symptoms - women are socialized differently so we tend to present differently, at least in my experience. and it’s especially difficult if you are an adult - i got diagnosed with asd when i was 9 (when it was still called “aspergers” which i’m soooo glad they did away with for obvious reasons), but before that they wanted me to just be classified as add/adhd which as a 9 year old i read up on and was like….uhhh…nope??? doesn’t fit me…at all? but finally got the diagnosis. my bpd diagnosis happened when i was 20, so it took me some time to get there. i got off track…anyway.

the reason it’s more difficult to diagnose as an adult is because adult women have been pretty well socialized by that point. we’ve learned how to blend. maybe we don’t do it well or perfectly, but we’re what’s known as “social chameleons”. we learned through mimicry what was acceptable and what was not. this is also why there’s overlap with bpd because there is the shifting identity aspect as we just try to be who we think the world wants us to be. bpd just makes this urge too strong and can lead to way worse problems with our identity. but with asd this is why a lot of girls on the spectrum enjoy theatre or performance, because it literally helps us learn how to mimic humans effectively. (i use the word “humans” there because i often use the idea of being an alien or a robot in order to cope, sorry.)

this chameleon aspect is great for coping with real life, but it’s not great when getting diagnosed. we get nervous and we shut down our stimming and our bad symptoms because it’s just habit. they don’t get to see us on our bad days, so they label us “high functioning” if anything then tell us we don’t need help. my advice is to expect it to be a process of several sessions before a formal diagnosis will be given - i don’t know how they test it in adults but i expect there are tests just the same. be honest about your symptoms and don’t try to hide stims or any nervous habits you might have. it’s the scariest advice to give to anyone with either of my diagnoses, but try to be authentically yourself. an impossible task, i know, but my diagnosis would’ve taken less time if i’d walked on the tips of my toes and flapped my hands and rambled on about harry potter instead of trying to seem normal and mature. make a list of bad symptoms you have that you’d like to discuss, and any questions you might have. because trust me, you’ll forget in the moment.

and that’s really the best advice i can think of. i wish you luck! and even if you don’t get the diagnosis you’re looking for, you still have a place in our community. we all know the struggle of getting a proper diagnosis is super real.

EDIT:

can i just add, if you struggle with self harm or suicidal ideation and that’s part of why they say you’re bpd and not autistic, that is bullshit. i have a huge network of autistic friends on and offline (i’m even dating one of them) and the common thread is we’re all anxious depressed messes. i just happen to have trauma. but i’d argue that growing up autistic in this society is trauma enough. (that scene i wrote in AIG where red was force fed food? that really happened to me and when you’re autistic and small that kind of thing can mess up your relationship with food even more.) i have a theory that a lot of the self harm in our community starts at the age when we started consciously repressing our harmless stims. self harm becomes, in a way, a harmFUL stim. we feel this self loathing about self soothing so we take it out on ourselves. that was definitely my experience.

so anyway. hope that helped.

#Anonymous #self harm tw #suicide tw

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ferix-writes · 6 years

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A Year of Writing FFXV

Wow, I can’t believe Ive been writing consistently for FFXV for over a year now. I love it so much! Seriously, I have never been more involved in a fandom or made so many friends. And having so many happy experiences led to a lot of inspiration and a lot more fics, I think. And here I am to share them all!

I keep seeing end of the year art memes and I think they’re really cool, but I was a little sad that there’s nothing like that for fanfic. So I decided to do something similar enough. But a lot longer lol.

Here’s every fic that contributed to the over 200,000 words of FFXV fanfic I wrote in 2017! Its a big mix of SFW, NSFW and many, many pairings. I hope you enjoyed this year of fandom as much as I did! And please don’t be afraid to spread the fandom love <3

Thanks to everyone for all the support!

More Than Words Can Wield The Matter - My big ‘ol drabble collection. SFW and NSFW and many pairings. Check the titles of each chapter for pairings and content.

January

Warmness and Affection -SFW, OT4, Noctis and Prompto get stuck in a snowstorm, so Gladio and Ignis must rescue them and deal with the aftermath.

Shotgun -SFW, Gen, Ignis is a very, very good driver. Prompto wants to drive the Regalia, but Ignis finds a better job for him.

Old Lullaby -SFW, OT4, Gladio, Ignis and Prompto get hit with confusion and they start attacking everything and everyone, leaving Noct to fend for himself.

Of Hair Colors and Gossip -SFW, OT4, A brief history of style and fashion in Lucis, and the royalty that inspired it.

Melt Into You -SFW, OT4 but mostly Gladnoct, The boys get massages at Galdin Quay's resort, but Noctis' doesn't go as planned. Cue Gladio taking care of him and lots of comfort.

February

No Need to Play Pretend -SFW, OT4, Five times someone figured out exactly what kind of relationship Noctis, Gladio, Ignis and Prompto have with each other, and one time someone actually tried to do something about it.

Sericeus -NSFW, OT4, Prompto, Gladio and Ignis want to get Noctis something nice for his birthday. Really nice. Like, there’s no price limit nice.

Aces Up Your Sleeve -SFW, Gen, Regis' first born always has been and always will be the light of his life. Transboy Noct comes out to his dad.

March

Fit the Mold -SFW, Gen, Noctis suffers from chronic pain, but his princely duties slow down for no one. Fed up with Gladio's impossible training, he wishes Gladio could feel what it's like to live in his shoes. Just for one day.

Heart's Desire -SFW, OT4, Noctis has survived his ascension and Insomnia is rebuilding, but an important question lingers: Who will the new King marry? (Answer: Everyone)

Flowers in the Sun -NSFW, Promnis, Ignis finds one of Prompto's sex toys in the Regalia. Again. Iggy and transguy Prompto smut.

Oversharing Blogger Liveblogs Dildo Debacle with Boyfriend in Hospital -NSFW, OT4, Gladio accidentally gets a dildo stuck inside him and his boyfriends are not helping.

Under My Skin -SFW, OT4, Noctis takes a nasty hit from an MT and becomes temporarily paralyzed from the hips down. The boys struggle to find balance as Noctis pushes forward in his recovery.

Fire Walk With Me -SFW, OT4, Caffeine withdrawal hits Ignis hard and fast in one of the caves under Lucis and the boys deal with the fallout.

April

Noct Up -NSFW, OT4, The boys are all happily together, but one day Prompto hears Gladio saying some...choice things to Noctis during sex. For Gladio and Noct it may be a kink, but for Prompto it's a horrifying reality that he has no desire to face. Transguy Prompto.

I've Got Stamina -SFW, Gen, Cor visits the boys after the destruction of Altissa, and finds that Ignis is not being treated properly. Heavy focus on blind Iggy.

By The Sword -NSFW, OT4, A sudden bout of depression hits Gladio hard as he finally gets to mourn while the other three try to make sense of their Shield’s complicated and tangled emotions.

Unraveled -NSFW, Promptis, Transguy Noct has a desire and oral-fixated Prompto has a solution.

May

Kissing Game -SFW, OT4, The boys start playing a guessing game with Ignis after he loses his sight. Ignis doesn't mind playing along, because each of his lovers have such obvious tells.

Stay With Me -SFW, OT4, Prompto gets injured in the Crestholm Channels, so the boys must help him out of the depths of the sewer while his claustrophobia comes in waves.

Forget About Mine -SFW, OT4, ABO, Prompto is curious as to how each of their presentations went. Ignis' is a bit...abnormal.

Noctis and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Heat -NSFW, OT4, ABO, Noct has a rough heat, but his pack is there to help him, in all their unique ways.

A Royal Honor -NSFW, OT4, Noct finally bottoms for Gladio and bulge kink ensues.

The Anchor -SFW, Gen, Noctis was diagnosed with autism at the young age of two. Now three, his therapists want to introduce him to a friend to help him develop his communication and social skills. Ignis, a shy six-year-old, just might be the perfect fit.

The Citizen's Crown -NSFW, OT4, Prompto takes a turn bottoming for Gladio and MORE bulge kink ensues.

June

Petit Four -SFW, Promptio, Prompto works in the Citadel as a server and part of the kitchen staff and he’s helping cater a large party one night. Long after the party is over, Mr. Amicitia phones the kitchen and requests a tray of desserts be brought up to his room...

July

Partition -NSFW, Ignoct, “Driver,” Ignis leaned forward, smiling as he put a teasing lilt in his voice, “roll up the partition, please.”

August

Come What May -SFW, Ignoct, Transguy Noct, INSOMNIA, Lucis- 9:32 AM- Sources confirm that His Highness Noctis Lucis Caelum and his Royal Advisor, Ignis Scientia, are in a committed relationship together—and have been for some time.

September

Sleepless in Insomnia -SFW, OT4, Noctis and Prompto have been struggling to get a good night's sleep for years. Ignis and Gladio have been trying to help them find an answer, but nothing is working out. Ignis' latest idea is a unique blanket for the boys to share, but Noctis and Prompto aren't convinced.

Solace With You -NSFW, Gladnoct, Gladio returns from Gilgamesh's trial bruised and beaten, and the boys just barely get to him in time. After all is said and done he seeks comfort from Noctis, but the prince's emotions get the better of him.

Things Divine -NSFW, Gladnis, Transguy Ignis, Gladio and Ignis talk about what they want, explore each other, and get swept away. And they make mistakes, too.

October

(kinktober was a trip...)

A Matter of Time -SFW, OT4, Prompto tells Noctis about the rest of his life. Very sad.

Pretty Little Things -NSFW, Lunyx, Nyx loves everything about Luna, inside and out.

Good & Tight -NSFW, Ignoct, Transguy Ignis, Ignis indulges in something so satisfying, so perfect...Noctis doesn't get to indulge in anything except Ignis' pleasure.

Sensory Pleasures -NSFW-ish, OT4, The boys bought one piece of lingerie, but one turned into two, and two into six...

Bound (Together) and Gagged -NSFW, IgLuna, Luna is content to keep all the pleasure to herself and watch her lover squirm below her.

Wet Dream -NSFW, Promptis, Prince Noctis buys himself a captured mercreature, though he isn't sure what to do with him.

Between a Shield and a Hard Place -NSFW, Gladnoct, ABO, Gladio quite literally rises to Noctis' challenge of holding him up against a wall and sucking him off at the same time.

Prompto's Amazing Alpha Powers -SFW, OT4, ABO, Prompto inadvertently proves that he’s a great alpha, and these 4 fools are a lot closer then any of them have realized.

Rosemary and Mint -NSFW, Promnis, Prompto trusts, and gives all of himself to Ignis. Sensory deprivation and waxplay.

A Night Off -NSFW, Promptis, ABO, An eager Prompto just wants to help Noct, exhausted from caring for his first child, relax for a night. Lactation kink.

Heat-aides -NSFW, Ignoct, ABO, With Prompto and Gladio away on Crownsguard business, Ignis and Noctis must find an easy way to ride out Noctis' heat together. They go shopping for some unique but very helpful little devices.

Man and Machine -NSFW, OT4, Noctis buys a sybian, and later on Ignis finds it.

Impeccable -NSFW, IgLuna, Luna and Ignis sneak away from a party for some quick and dirty sex.

November

Desperate -NSFW, Gladnoct, Noct is being a bratty little shit, and he knows it. Spanking.

Shield of the King -SFW, Gladnoct, One time Noct comforted Gladio, and one time Gladio comforted Noct. Set in Brotherhood and Post Canon, respectively.

December

Not Beyond Repair -NSFW, OT4, Noctis feels excluded from their recerntly established poly relationship and the boys find out they still have a lot to learn about each other.

#ffxv #fanfic #Polyship Roadtrip #gladnoct #promnis #my writing

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bittersot · 3 years

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2020-12-17 pt

Wrote this to vent and it became much longer than planned:

So I've been feeling like shit since I was 13 cause around that time I got depression due to me ending up in a class with mostly new ppl(I had pretty much only gone to school with ppl who had known me since kindergarten until then), and at the age where me being autistic being very obvious to everyone around me and me feeling extremely othered and cut everyone off because of #fear due to social anxiety when I got singled out by my classmates, and I didn't know what was wrong with me, or that anything WAS inherently different abt me, I thought I had ADHD at age 17 and got diagnosed with that + Autism(which I didn't expect at all) right before I turned 19.

And inbetween the age of 13-17 I did a LOT of introspection to like, "solve" what I did wrong so I could get along with people again, and I realized that I fucking hated my dad and that he has raised me and my siblings to take criticism and bullying, because ever since I was little, whenever me or my siblings did something bad/wrong (cause we were KIDS lol) we were met with snide comments and made to feel bad for not knowing things, and learned to lash out and attack to "defend" ourselves because we felt that we had to, cause we were told our everything would attacked whenever anyone said anything ever. And that + RSD was NOT a good recipe for most of my life (and still affects me to this day).

I would compulsively lie because when you have ADHD you fuck up a LOT due to impulsiveness, and never learned how to back off and do things calmly cause admitting I was wrong was equal to admitting that I was worthless and would never make it on my own(my father has said this exact thing in swedish). And like, my mother never defended me and instead defended HIM by telling me that "old dogs can't learn new tricks" when I talked about how he invalidated my emotions and how he made fun of my little brother SPITTING on me and tried to play it off when he could tell I was clearly hurt because it made HIM uncomfortable to deal with.

He has clearly never actually wanted us kids and had us to make my mother happy but didn't actually think too much about actually raising us, much less that we'd be around for(at least) 20 years.

Anyways, so, my point is, I have wanted to move out for a WHILE, because my family have been terrible for my mental health and I can't stand eating with them cause I'm autistic and they are loud and it wears me out and everyone is competetive cause we were raised that way and all advice I offer to them in how to deal with their issues and what I can do to make shit easier for them is brushed off. I want to move out cause I've noticed that lately, when I am home alone with only my cat I feel as if I have SO much more free time, cooking went by fast and I felt like I had time to do everything I wanted, despite being at work 9 hours every day + transit to and from work taking roughly 1 hour itself. When I was alone I felt more comfortable to move around in the house, it's like when an option showed up, I still had issues with executive functioning and doing stuff immediately, but I did do it, and I've noticed that when the rest of the family is home, there is a 90% chance that whenver I am deciding on what to do(eat, shower, bake, draw, play video games etc) that I just end up going to my room and lying in my bed, not sleeping, but not really enjoying it either, I just, don't feel comfortable doing anything with them around, they tire me out.

So, I want to move out, but I just recently got my first job, and there is a LOT to do when caring for your own place, even if its an apartment run by.landlord, and, besides all that, I could NEVER live alone, I NEED to have at least 1 more roomate, and here's the thing: I cut off EVERYONE in highschool, I don't hang out/talk with anyone my age in Sweden. Not only that, I'm autistic, regulation deficit, bisexual and questioning my gender, and on top of all that, I am very opinionated, so to find someone who 1, is not ableist/homophobic/transphobic/racist, and 2, is very much like me in terms of morals and 3, can STAND being around me, I am going to need to be SUPER picky. And like, finding other LGBT people in Stockholm around my age alone is difficult, I've tried on social media and barely gotten anywhere, and lord knows I don't know my social places where others like me would hang out.

I've always been the black sheep of the family and I don't think my siblings don't have it hard, but they very much do not understand what it's like to have no one around IRL who you can trust completely, and they like to make fun of it. I've never told them about my neurodivergence, but at this point I would be genuinely surprised if they didn't at least expect it. The thing is, they shit on things I do because of it all the time, in front of my parents, who know I am neurodivergent, and they do nothing about it, because me defending myself is on the same level on them calling me weird for very obvious autistic traits that aren't in anyway harmful. And I do think my mom wants me to be happy, and wants to care for me, but I really do think that she also wishes I wasn't like this, and that she too would be happier if I moved out, or didn't even exist at all. This is where I start crying while writing this, ha ha ha.

Anyways, my little brother has made fun of me for being uncomfortable with him screaming ableist slurs specifically to bother me, and my sister calls me weird and annoying for not wanting to eat with the rest of the family(when they always yell and almost constantly argue), and outright said she doesn't want me to live here anymore, and I'm just. Tired. I agree with you, I don't want to be here, but you don't understand what it is like to not have anywhere to turn, you're always surrounded by friends and make sure to rub it in how weird it is for me not to be the same.

I don’t know what to do, I got a job, I got a goal, a degree I desire, and ideas as to who I want to be, what I want to do and who I want to surround myself with. I’ve tried looking, and I’m going to keep trying until I find the friends I can trust. I wrote all of this originally to quickly vent about how my little sister telling me she doesn’t want me here anymore feels like it has all come full circle in a way since I turned 13, seeing as she herself is 13 now. She’s absolutely being dramatic, I know that, but I also think she’s honest, I know she is, I think we all would be happier if I didn’t live here, but I know it wouldn’t solve the rest of the issues with this family, the way she thinks it would.

So to end it all, I posted about the hunger thing earlier today, so I guess I’ll leave something else here as well, because it made me realize how much I forget over the years. The only reason I get by is due to my OCs, I have no emotional intimacy with anyone else, but if I may say, I’m pretty good at understanding the complexity of individuals, and make up different scenarios in my head where I go through different things. Not that it can be compared to real beings, but being able to come out, handle rejection, deal with ableism, workout how to explain my desires and wants to others, have prevented me from stagnating over the years of this solitude, and I rely on them a lot, which I’m sure I’ll forget in 10 years if I’m still around by then. Well, anyways, this rant is now 7500 symbols long, as well as 2 google docs pages. so I’m going to end it here, future me, if you read this far, drink water and brush your teeth.

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autisticbobsaginowskiredux · 6 years

Text

Don’t Let Us Get Sick

“So Mr. Magliacci,” Valencia said, laying the photos down on her desk, “I feel like you should know, most of my experience is with insurance investigations, unfaithful partners, things of that nature. Pretty much all of it, if I’m being honest.”

“And?” said Mr. Magliacci, who had close-cropped battleship-gray hair and the bullet shape common to middle-aged men who were muscular in their youth. “Is that a no?”

“No, no, no, not at all,” Valencia said, sitting forward in her chair. “Point I’m making, Mr. Magliacci, is this: by and large, people who hire me expect to turn up things they won’t like. More to the point, they’re sending me after people they’re prepared not to like. You seem like you love your daughter a lot, like you’re concerned about her.”

“Fuckin’ A.”

“So I just wonder if you feel like my area of expertise will lead me to investigate this in a way you didn’t necessarily emotionally prepare for.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mr. Magliacci said. “Whadya, tie ’em up and beat a confession out of them?”

“Of course not.”

“Then cut the bullshit. My God.”

“Just covering the bases. Tell me what you need. Specifically.”

Mr. Magliacci hugged himself and scratched his right forearm. “So Ms. Valdez, my little girl, Angie, she’s 20, sophomore at Columbia, first in the family.” He said it faux-conversationally, trying to make it sound like something other than a brag. It was the verbal equivalent of Bugs Bunny disguised as a woman: ridiculously obvious, but it still worked on some level. “And, like, I ain’t blind. I know my little girl. And I see her on parents weekend and I meet this friend of hers, black girl, and, like, she’s a friend of hers, you understand?”

Valencia nodded, trying to propel this wherever it was going.

“And, like, I’m pretty old-school, most people would say. She’d definitely say. But that’s still my little girl and I’m not one of these pricks who’s gonna throw a fit over that. But I never told her I knew, and I can’t really explain why. Maybe she knows I know, who knows. Anyway, I still read the blotter, which is goofy, I know, but about a week ago, somebody killed this girl, this friend of my Angie’s. Had her picture and everything. Looks like someone took her wallet and when there were only credit cards in there, they got pissed off, shot her.”

Valencia nodded again, hoping to God Mr. Magliacci didn’t have her confused with a bounty hunter or a button woman but also not wishing to interrupt the kind of man who goes looking for one.

“Now, ever since, Angie’s been acting strange. Which, obviously, that’s kinda to be expected, but I mean a different kind of strange. I tried to visit her on campus a couple times, as a surprise, you know, but everyone on her hall said she was gone. Like, with a friend. That’s what they said, a friend. And the other night, I pulled up across the street from her dorm, I see her get into this car I never seen before, but I know this type of car, right? Pulled over a hundred like it back in the day.”

“You think your daughter’s on drugs.”

Magliacci sighed and his entire upper body shuddered forward. “Yeah, that’s about the size of it. I’m not good at intervention shit and I want her to feel like she can talk to me about her friend, but if she feels like I’m coming at her, she might close up, you know?”

“Right, sure. So what is it you want me to do? Just find out whether she is?”

Mr. Magliacci shook his head. “A little more than that. I want you to get the guy away from her. I don’t need to know how and I don’t care.”

“You don’t think she’d find another dealer?”

“She probably would. But it gives me a window when I’d feel better about talking to her.”

Valencia looked back at the pictures Mr. Magliacci had brought. Angie was a chubby dark-haired girl with a heart-shaped face and husky-blue eyes. “Tell me a little more about her. She have a job?”

“She’s a part-time production assistant at NBC. They’re pretty reasonable about her class schedule, so she’s there around 6 to 11 Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.”

“Okay. Anything else I need to know?”

Mr. Magliacci looked hesitant. “She’s, you know, she’s got autism, we’re pretty sure.”

“Pretty sure?”

“I mean, we got her diagnosed when she was eight, I was just never convinced. You know, she talks normally, she finished school and all that shit.”

Valencia raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s, you know, it’s a spectrum, man.”

“So they say.” Mr. Magliacci shifted in his chair. “I’m just a cop from Bensonhurst, the fuck do I know?”

Valencia Valdez was youngish, photogenic and had never been a cop, all of which were fairly unusual for a private detective. This made her closer to people’s image of a TV detective than most of the competition, which was good for business. It gave her an advantage when her clients were cops, oddly enough; they allowed themselves vulnerability they wouldn’t when they felt like they had a bullshit tribal façade to maintain. Magliacci likely wouldn’t have told another cop Angie was autistic.

Along with the photos, Magliacci had included the clipping from the police blotter about Sophia, Angie’s girlfriend. As luck would have it (for a given value of “luck”), Sophia had been killed about three blocks from campus, close enough that an alert had gone out to all the students. Valencia put on his reading glasses and combed his undercut into something more befitting a bureaucrat as best he could. In a couple of Magliacci’s photos, Angie was with friends; he was able to identify one, Katrina Something.

Valencia was able to enhance the photo to pick out a uniform shirt under Katrina’s windbreaker; she cross-referenced it with a Yelp search and determined she was a waitress at the Side Door, a local restaurant that wasn’t owned by the university but whose clientele was overwhelmingly students (locals, as is often the case with such places, regarded it in a manner reminiscent of Romanian villagers discussing Castle Dracula).

Valencia called the restaurant and asked if Katrina was available; the manager said she’d be in at six that evening. Valencia thanked him and staked out the place from across the street at five, making sure to queue up albums she didn’t mind listening to in their entirety, like Nick Cave’s “Murder Ballads” and Florence & the Machine’s “Ceremonials,” on her phone.

Katrina got off around 9. Valencia crossed the street and called her name. She turned and looked confused but not worried.

“Hey, Katrina,” Valencia said, jogging up to her. “You’re a, you’re friends with Angela Magliacci, aren’t you?”

“Sure. Can I help you?”

“My name’s Katy Carr, I’m a grief counselor. Now, I don’t know if she ever told you this, but Angela’s mother was murdered in a robbery gone wrong several years ago.” (This was true.)

“I did, actually.”

“Right, okay. So the, ah, the shooting, near campus, recently, there’s concerns, sometimes, when something like that happens, it’ll trigger sort of a downturn, emotionally, for someone who’s had that kind of thing affect their lives before, so I’m just trying to find out if Angela seems like she’s been acting… odd, at all, since it happened.”

Katrina tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “The university has a nondiscrimination policy,” she said. “You know that, right?”

“Of course. What’s that…”

“So if you’re trying to ferret out queer girls, that’s illegal.”

“It’s nothing like that. Are you saying they knew each other?”

“Soph was Angie’s girlfriend, yeah.”

This was good to know. Magliacci’s intuition being right meant a lot of the rest of what he’d said was likely accurate. “So back to my question, how’s Angela taking it?”

Katrina pursed her lips. “It’s complicated.”

“How do you mean?”

“Angie’s not a repressed person. She lets you know when she’s happy, when she’s sad, when she’s angry, all of it. But ever since Sophia died, it seems like she gets tenser and tenser over the course of the day. Her suitemate, Carol? Apparently the first few nights, right around 10, she said Angie had some kind of attack.”

“Attack?”

“Like, almost like a panic attack. She sounded like she was trying to keep it down, you know, repress it? You know how if you’re crying and trying to stop all at the same time?”

“Sure.”

“Yeah, that was how Angie was the first few nights. And we’d just been out that evening and she seemed fine.”

“So you said the first few nights. It’s been about a week and a half. Did something change?”

“She hasn’t been in the last few nights. At least not when most of us go to bed.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Honestly?” Katrina dropped her voice a little. “I think she’s on the rebound. Which I totally get, no judgment, you do what you have to do for yourself, I just at the same time get why she’d want to be discreet about it too.”

“What makes you think that? Just her absence?”

“No, I’ve seen him. Artsy-looking white boy, older. Maybe like 30. Drives a Caddy, looks like a douchebag. We have an evening class Tuesday and Thursday and normally after it lets out we’ll go have a drink or chill in the commons but the past few nights she’s said she’s got something to take care of and I saw this guy pick her up.”

“And around when is that?”

“Class lets out at 9:40.”

Valencia pulled a campus map out of her coat. “I haven’t worked on campus long; can you show me around where she meets him?”

Katrina pointed to an intersection on the map. Valencia thanked her and headed back to her car.

It was Wednesday. The next night, Valencia put on her black turtleneck and leather jacket and put her gun against the small of her back before driving to the spot Katrina had said was the rendezvous point. As was her habit, she was early, which was a terrible strategy for keeping one’s nerves steady.

The Cadillac slid into the intersection around 9:30. Not long after, Angie advanced down the sidewalk and opened the door. She had a weird, purposeful stride in her step, with none of the trepidation Valencia would have expected from someone making a drug buy. The driver, a skinny dark-haired guy with a goatee wearing a scarf over a cardigan over a t-shirt, did indeed look like a douchebag.

Valencia was lucky she had filled her tank that morning; Cadillac Douche drove all the way to Brooklyn, parking out front of a small storefront in Greenpoint. After they got out and walked in, Valencia waited a second before getting up and following. The door, as she’d anticipated, was locked, but she was able to jimmy it open with the slim jim in her pocket.

The lights were dim inside the building; as Valencia’s eyes adjusted, she realized it was the waiting area of a recording studio. There was no one in the live room but she could make out the outlines of Angie and Cadillac Douche in the control room. She slowly approached the door, keeping out of what, as far as he could tell, was their line of sight. She put her ear to the door.

“…five hundred,” Valencia heard the guy say.

“That wasn’t what we discussed.”

“That wasn’t what we discussed on Tuesday. It’s a pain in the ass getting this shit.”

“It’s not shit.” There was a ragged, primal edge in Angie’s voice, but it wasn’t that of a junkie; it was something else Valencia couldn’t put his finger on.

“Let me hear it.”

“Money first.”

“Don’t be a prick, Brett. I don’t have that much on me anyway. I’ll give you the balance next time.”

“Sure you will.”

“Have I ever stiffed you?”

“I don’t work on credit, little girl.”

There was a pause, followed by a deep, shuddering sigh, and Valencia felt like she’d caught a whiff of the barely-repressed panic Katrina had described.

“Take me back to campus, then. I’ll… I’ll deal with it.”

“Okay, let’s not go nuts. There are ways you can pay me upfront.”

“What? What do you want, my phone? I need it.”

Brett sighed. “Jesus Christ, you can be dense, you know that? Do I have to spell everything out?”

“In my case, probably.”

“Fuck’s sake. Okay, I will. You want this without paying me 500, suck me off.”

There was another silence, this one unpunctuated.

“You are fucking disgusting,” Angie said at last.

“That’s a nice way to talk to your ride home.”

“I’m not riding home with you. I’ll get a cab, something. Let me out.”

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Valencia heard the squeaking of Brett standing up in a leather chair. “Let’s… sweetie, I gotta tell you, you really don’t hold the cards you think you do.”

Valencia threw open the door, flicked on the light and held her gun on Brett. “Get away from her,” he said.

“Hold on, who the fuck are you?”

“I’m not Porky Pig, so I know for a fuckin’ fact I didn’t stutter. Stop blocking her path, creep.”

Brett stepped back, shooting Valencia the sullen expression of a child told he couldn’t ride his bicycle on the roof.

Valencia kept her gun on Brett and shifted his gaze to Angie, who was remarkably composed, from the looks of it. “And Angie, I need you to tell me what’s going on. What are you buying from Fucko McScarfneck over here?”

Angie sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Show him, Brett.”

Brett, still wearing that look, took a CD out of his cardigan and put it in the stereo. It began to play and an unaccompanied voice, a gorgeous, velvety one, sounding like a young Etta James, unspooled throughout the room and Valencia knew she was listening to the late Sophia.

“Don’t let us get sick, Don’t let us get old, Don’t let us get stupid, alright? Just make us be brave, And make us play nice, And let us be together tonight.”

“Sophia was trying to record an album here with Brett,” Angie explained. “Right up until she died, she was recording it. I was the one who told her she should record it because…” her voice caught for a second. “..because after we started to get serious, she’d sing to me over the phone every night after I got home from my evening class. Did my father tell you I’m on the spectrum?”

Valencia nodded.

“I have my routines. I need them. After Sophia died, I cried for nearly a full day, and once I was done, I realized I couldn’t sleep without her voice. I tried, God, did I try. After the first week, I reached out to Brett; I met him briefly when Sophia started recording. He was going to trash what she’d recorded but I told him how much I needed it, which, clearly, was a mistake. This is what men do, you know. They take advantage. Please tell my dad I’m sorry if I worried him.”

Valencia looked back over at Brett. “Hey, Brett,” she said, “just so you’re aware, Miss Magliacci’s father is a cop. Did you know that, Brett?”

“No.”

“Okay, well, now you do. And what’s going to happen is, you’re going to give her everything Sophia recorded with you — everything, understand — or her dad the cop hears what you tried to do, but before that happens I’m going to beat the shit out of you and glue that gross weak-chin-concealing goatee to your dick. You got all that?”

Brett nodded.

“Go get it. Darse prisa, dipshit.”

Brett kicked aside a cardboard box on the floor and opened a combination safe set in the wall. There were several jewel cases inside, each with an unlabeled CD. He roughly handed them all to Valencia.

“Don’t give them to me, asshole, give them to her.”

Brett, rolling his eyes before he could stop himself, handed them to Angie.

“Angela, are you okay with me giving you a ride home?” Valencia asked, the gun still on Brett.

“Sure,” Angie said. “Thanks for asking.”

Angie didn’t say much as they drove. It was a beautiful, clear night; a stiff breeze was lingering from February but spring was still in the air, the warmth of newness palpable in the spaces between.

“You gonna be okay, Angela?” Valencia said as they crossed the Williamsburg Bridge.

Angie looked up as though she’d forgotten she was there. “I think so,” she said. “It feels different than with Ma. I… I miss them both so much, you understand, but Sophia and I, we were both new at this. I’m not trying to sound callous, but I have to deal with this on two levels: I miss Sophia the person but I also have the disruption in the way things are to deal with. And that second one is easier than it was with Ma, because we were just getting serious. The singing will keep me steady on my feet until I’m ready to really think about her being gone. Does that make any sense?”

“Oh, no, yeah, perfect sense.”

“Are you just saying this? I’ve never lost someone like Sophia. I have no idea how much of a heartless bitch I’m being.”

“Angela,” Valencia said, “I promise you, you are no kind of heartless bitch. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Thank you. What are you going to tell my father?”

“He wanted to know if you were on drugs, and I’m going to tell him you’re not.”

“What if he wants specifics?”

“I don’t think he will. He’s not a guy who understands everything, but he understands what he doesn’t understand, you know?”

“That’s true. Thank you.”

Valencia pulled up to the spot where Brett had picked up Angie and handed her her card. “You ever get in any kind of trouble, let me know, okay?”

“Actually, Ms…” she glanced at the card. “…Valdez, I have a request. I hope it’s not too strange.”

“Shoot.”

“Does this car have a CD player? I can’t tell by sight.”

“It does.”

“Can we play the rest of that song? It’s a bit late. I don’t want to wake anyone.”

“Sure.”

Angie put the CD in the player and hit the skip button a couple of times, and that ethereal voice filled the car.

“The moon has a face, and it smiles on the lake, And causes the ripples in time. I’m lucky to be here with someone I like, Who maketh my spirit to shine. Don’t let us get sick, Don’t let us get old, Don’t let us get stupid, alright? Just make us be brave, And make us play nice, And let us be together tonight.”

#crime fiction #fiction #short stories #mine #grief #loss #lgbtq fiction #autism fiction #actuallyautistic #neo-noir #New York noir

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angelicxprowess-blog · 7 years

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Heyyyyyy I kinda wanted to ask a personal question? I wanna write a character who has autism and I was wondering if you could help me? Like if you could just name some things that characterize autism to you personally that would be absolutely amazing tbh. If not that's totally cool I don't wanna pry sorry. Thanks!!

Dont worry!!! I like answering these

Okay well firstly, it does not have specific things to get a diagnoses. Me and both of my brothers are either diagnosed with ASD, or have it suspected, and while mine and the 9 year old’s is more similar, me and the 17 year old’s is completely different.

Most autistics I’ve seen prefer being called an autistic person than a person with autism but I think that's just down to preference. Autistic person is just more common.

There are many many different ways to stim. When I do it its usually cause Im happy, excited or stressed out (and sometimes I do it cause its fun). This can be either hand flapping, jumping, when Im sitting down kicking my legs in the air, hitting my leg, making noises (”ah, ah, ah”), stroking my hair and other stuff. Not a lot of people are understanding and a lot of comments are made, and sadly from what I’ve seen, a given so...

Echolalia! This is where you repeat words and phrases you hear. This can be from a song, the last thing you heard, or just anything you remember. Some autistics only communicate with echolalia, but I dont think that's very common.

Communication is hard. I struggle with working out if people are happy, sad ext just by looking at their face unless its at the extreme, and I cant pick up sarcasm when spoken very well unless I’m told its sarcasm (doesnt stop me from using it though). People can say what they think is an easy question, and I have to think about it step by step which can make it seriously confusing. For example; I know this sounds silly but I struggle with doing the washing and I ALWAYS miss steps, and I have broken down just because there was too much going on. Also sometimes, how I communicate can make things tricky for others. When I was much younger my voice was very flat and didn't have much emotion in it at all (I now make it over exaggerated) which got me into trouble a lot because people couldnt tell when I was joking, when I was being sarcastic or they thought I was always being rude. And my wording still makes things difficult sometimes for people to understand even though to me, what I’m saying is obvious.

Sensory overload. I’m not sure if its an autism only thing but its common and is hell. This is where there is too much stimulation going on (texture, sound and all that), to the point where you just stop being able to process it all and everything goes to shit tbh. This can either cause stimming to be done while being exhausted, or a tantrum (its not funny: dont act like it is), or the complete stopping of as much sensory stuff as you can. I do a tantrum and stim at the same time which is kinda embarrassing for me.. During this I usually scratch at myself, punch myself, keep crying and screaming, (headbutt walls which hurts), bite at myself and other stuff. I have a pill to calm me down (not for autism: I have really bad anxiety that stops me from being able to leave the house a lot) which mum suggested I try using during it but it doesn't do much...

SI’s! Special Interests. Mine is Kuro which is kinda.. really obvious... This basically means that your interest in it is huge to the point where it could almost be like an obsession.. Most things I’m a fan of reminds me of Kuro is some way. Its pretty much all I draw and write about, and talk about. Also! It doesnt have to be a TV series or game thing; it can be anything. About science, songs, books, history ext ext! The stereotype is trains so.. If you’re gonna make it that please be careful cause it gets :/ They can last either a really long time, or a week. Depends on the person. Kuro has been my SI since I was 13 (5 years), but I’ve had some that only lasted a month.

Eye contact can be evil. Its either “Am I looking too much?” or “I cant look them in the eye am I being rude???”. We dont really understand the balance there...

It can make learning really really difficult if done in a way that doesnt fit you. If you just speak: I'm not gonna remember anything. And if you go too fast: Yeah still not gonna remember anything. This doesnt mean the person is not intelligent, it's just that our brain is wired differently and picks up information differently. If you leave me to learn on my own, I got named one of the top of my class. If it’s a teacher, I got told that I wasnt trying hard enough and was a waste of space (that teacher was an ass).

Things need to be done in a certain way and if something disrupts this its Bad. I have a very specific routine in the morning and if somebody interrupts it I will not get up and will scream. If I’m reading something, I will talk to you when I want to talk to you and if you interrupt, I wont be able to continue the book from where I was and will have to start it over and will be PISSED. When cleaning everything is done in a very specific order and if you’re still in the room, I just wont do it. If we’re missing something I need, I wont do it. (I haven't cleaned my room in ages cause we dont have the hoover rn). This doesnt mean you are organised btw!! Just things gotta be done in a certain way.

One of the things I do is refer to myself in third person a lot. I’m not really sure why this is, but its like

Friend: Are you tired..?

Me: Lizzie’s tired... She needs sleep

I know a few other autistic people who do this, so I’m pretty sure its because of that! I think some people do do it just to join it but xD But I don't think its very common so :/ Not many people use it in books or tv unless a character is playing so ;u;

Since some people think this and its... really wrong. Age regression isn't a symptom of autism. You can be autistic and regress, but it’s not a symptom. Also while its true for me and my 9 year old brother, you don't inherently act younger than your actual age, though that can be a symptom (When I was a lot younger (5-7) I had to go to a special class because of this although we didnt know what caused it then). Though since a lot of people see it has inherent, I would avoid that.

If the character acts like Sheldon Cooper from the Big Bang Theory, change them as soon as you can. (Biggest walking offensive stereotype) Ngl my favourite character that is confirmed autistic is Christian Wolff from The Accountant, although there is some stereotypes (Math being the SI, complete stoicness, also there are signs that the therapy he went to is ABA which freaked me out and him doing this thing to CAUSE an overload (Flashing Lights, way too loud metal music and scraping a metal bar up and down his leg) its pretty good!!! (Also guns and explosions)

Autism speaks is shit. Do not support that crap. They do more harm than good and act like its a disease, which its not. You cant cure it, its just how your brain is wired and there is nothing you can do about it so *shrug*. ABA is bad too and traumatises its patients (that's where they train you to act allistic (non-autistic). You’re either born with it, or you don't have it (Doesnt mean you can only be diagnosed young. You can be diagnosed at any point in life, although its easier when you’re younger. Mine keeps being put off from being finished (even though I’ve been told I am) because to the world, I’m a feminine girl and we apparently cant be autistic which is bullshit, and because I was nearly 18 (we’re gonna finish it soon).

I think this should be enough... If you need anymore please feel free to ask xD

#text

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paulc1stinstantblogs · 6 years

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World Mental Health Day 2018

With today, 10th October, being World Mental Health Day 2018 I thought I would explain about the mental health conditions that I suffer from and also give a big shout out to the people I think have helped me along the way.

1.) Autism with anxiety - Last November I did write a blog about my autism diagnosis:

http://itspaulc1stmyautism.blogspot.co.uk/

and I have just wrote a blog on my anxiety as well:

https://itspaulc1stmyanxiety.blogspot.com/

But, for this blog, a little explanation about it in a nutshell.

In May 2016, at a late age of 36, I was diagnosed with Autism and Anxiety.

At the time it was explained that three or four years ago I would've been diagnosed as having Aspergers but now everybody is classed as being on the Autism spectrum.

The main things that I suffer from with my autism with anxiety are:

1.) Routines - Examples of my routines are things like where I have to upload my vlogs to my YouTube channel on a Sunday night and fill in my diaries and organisers on a Monday night. If I don’t do this, I couldn’t do it on another day. I would have to wait until the following week. This may be difficult for people to understand if they don't have it themselves but it is hard.

2.) Anxiety - The way I would explain about my anxiety is that I worry a lot about certain things and I have to confirm things a lot and double check things a lot.

An example of this is if I try and ring someone and I can’t get hold of that person straight away I don’t think what any normal person would think and leave it until that person sees my missed call and rings me back.

I will ring several times until I can get hold of the person.

To the person that I am trying to get hold of this may be annoying but I cannot help it. It is part of my anxiety.

Another part of my anxiety is confirming things to make sure things haven’t changed.

For example, if I am due to meet someone on a certain day at a certain time, even though I know what time the appointment is, I always have to ring and confirm several times in the days leading up to the appointment or on the day of the appointment to check everything is still okay.

These are the main parts of my anxiety so if you ever find me ringing you several times or find me confirming plans several times, please be patient.

I don’t mean to be annoying.

It is part of my anxiety.

It's interesting to see what I have kept hidden behind closed doors all of this time and the things that have came out since my diagnosis.

What was also surprising was when I announced my diagnosis on Facebook, a lot of my mates said they assumed I already knew so it must have been pretty obvious to a lot more people than I realised.

Ultimately though.

Knowing all this won't change me as a person - I am still the same old Paul - at least it will explain why I act the way I do sometimes.

This is who I am and what I do.

2.) Hoarding - Although I haven’t got an official diagnosis of this, it’s pretty obvious that I suffer from this condition.

At my Autism diagnosis I was asked if I needed help with anything and I said I needed help with tidying my flat.

At the time of my diagnosis, it was in such a condition that someone I know in the police said it looks like the type of place they would break into to find a dead body.

The specialist asked my Mam and Dad if my bedroom was like this when I lived at home and they said yes.

Because of this, I was referred to get help from Adult Social Services at North Tyneside Council who in turn referred me to the Mental Health Renablement Team and Safe and Healthy Homes, both services provided by North Tyneside Council.

Safe and Healthy Homes arranged for a fire safety check to be carried out on my flat.

In 2016 when the fire brigade came out they told me that they wouldn’t enter my flat as there was no safe passage and was more of a risk to them getting injured.

Through the Mental Health Renablement Team I was assigned two mental health renablement officers who came in twice a week to help me tidy my flat.

However, the mental health renablement officers were only meant for short term so in December 2016 and January 2017 I was assessed by North Tyneside Council Adult Social Care to see if I would pass for a personal budget that I wouldn’t see but would pay for a Personal Assistant to come in and help me.

I passed for that and now have a lovely P.A. who helps me twice a week with my flat.

In August 2017 I had a second fire safety check carried out on my flat and the fire officer carrying out said they would enter but my living room was highly flammable with all the material in it like DVDs and books.

I also have had a recent third fire safety check carried out on my flat in August of this year and the fire safety officer who came out said my hoard isn’t the worst he’s seen and, again, said they would enter.

For my living room he used the term “fire loading” which means there are a lot of items that would feed a fire and he said if a fire ever broke out in my flat, by the time they got here, it would be well ablaze.

Considering that when I was first diagnosed with my autism in 2016 and was told then that the brigade wouldn’t enter due to it being too cluttered and there not being a safe passage to them saying now they would enter, there is definitely an improvement because of the help off my support worker but it’s just such a long process and the fireman who came out in 2018 said having hoarding and trying to sort it is like having a full time job.

The people that I would like to thank for helping me are:

1.) My Mam and Dad, my brothers and sister-in-laws - For having to put up with me and the way I am. I have put them through a lot and they still stick by me.

2.) Meegan-Paige Hall - Meegan was my manager at the Marie Curie shop in Forest Hall from 2014-2015.

She had worked with children with special needs in the past in America and said I was displaying classic signs of having autism as mentioned in this blog:

http://itspaulc1stmyautism.blogspot.co.uk/

My Mam and Dad had noticed it in me for years but when your parents say something you normally block them out but it was at this point, when an outsider noticed it that I thought I should get help and I was given a diagnosis a year later.

3.) My mates - I don’t mean to be putting people aside here but good mates like Christian, Gayle and Helen who we all had a BELTAAAA holiday at Seahouses in 2001, Adam from the D.H.S.S. who I am still in touch with as well.

Also Kerry and Shaun who always stick up for me if I need it and always ask if I am okay if I post a down update on Facebook.

Julia - although we see each other only every few months, you are always there to text as a good mate.

All my other mates but these ones stick out in particular.

4.) Ellie Langford - A special mention has to go to Ellie. Why ? Well as many of you may know, I upload my vlogs to my main YouTube channel, Paulc1st, every Sunday night, as part of my routine with my autism.

Earlier this year I asked Ellie, a graphic design student, if she could design a logo and banner for a second YouTube channel to which I could upload to during the week and get out of a routine.

All I said to Ellie was it must contain my new channel name and a picture of a Westie in memory of Charlie.

She created a lovely logo and banner which not only use on my new YouTube channel, Paulc1st Instant Vlogs, but also on a new Instagram, Paulc1stInstant Instagram so I can upload to straight away unlike my main Instagram account where everything has to be in order.

Just by Ellie doing this small thing it has made a big difference in my routine.

The latest thing ? I have created instant blogs to do on the go all because of this small thing.

5.) My support worker - If it wasn’t for Margrit my support worker I don’t know where I would be.

Although it is two steps forward and one step back with my flat and my hoarding, I wouldn’t have known where to start if it wasn’t for Margrit.

6.) Sarah Cushnahan - Sarah was my Learning Support Mentor at Newcastle College when I was given my diagnosis of autism with anxiety.

When I was given the diagnosis she sat down with me over several sessions to go through a draft copy of an application for Personal Independent Payment (P.I.P.) in detail and asked me questions on each section.

It needed extra evidence a few months down the line but if she hadn’t sat down with me and gone through it then I would never have got it as the previous year I only applied on the basis of my epilepsy and missed a load of the form off.

7.) Jacqui Rogers - Jacqui was my support worker through the Monkey Project from January this year and as soon as she saw the state of my flat realised I needed to be taken off Jobseekers Allowance (JSA) and to be put onto Employment and Support Allowance (ESA) for people on the sick.

She came with me to my face to face assessment which resulted in me being put on the sick for 18 months.

8.) Paul Irwin - Paul was my boss when I was working at Eastcoast Taxis and when I received my diagnosis of autism with anxiety I sat down with him and let him have a copy.

Although I knew what I was doing in the job, I didn’t have the best telephone manner but Paul stuck up for me left, right and centre which I very much appreciated.

In the end though, he had to let me go as the job was getting to me but I will always be appreciative of him.

9.) Billy Shiels - One of my favourite places to go for escapism is Seahouses - maybe it stemmed from the May Bank Holiday Weekend up there in 2001 with Christian, Gayle, Gary and Helen as mentioned above - but I love going up there to try and spot dolphins or just on the Farne Island trips on the Grey Seal cruises and, one particular boat operator, Billy Shiels, is always welcoming when I go up so thanks to them.

10.) Ben Burville - One of my passions is spotting dolphins and during the summer into October, since 2015, I have been going out on the Ocean Explorer to the Farnes Deep to spot White Beaked Dolphins and Ben is a GP based in Amble who has a special licence to dive with the dolphins for research.

I love hearing about the passion he shares with me and when I am out on the boat, again, it’s escapism and great for mental health when you see theses mammals close up in the wild just off Northumberland.

11.) Martin Kitching - Martin owns a company called Northern Experience Wildlife Tours who, during the summer months, charter a boat called the JFK Two from the Royal Quays to spot dolphins off the Tyne and in the Farnes Deep.

Off the Tyne we see Bottlenosed Dolphins and White Beaked Dolphins and, again, in the Farnes Deep, White Beaked Dolphins.

From June through to August Northern Experience Wildlife Tours runs 4 hour evening trips from the Tyne up towards Creswell and, even if we don’t see anything, you see the coast from a different point of view which is good in itself and a chance to relax and escape life for a bit.

12.) Film crews - One of my other hobbies is following film crews around the North-East and watching behind the scenes to see how it is all made.See the blog below:

http://itspaulc1stfriendlystalking.blogspot.co.uk/

I would like to thank certain crew members that know how passionate I am and appreciate me for it. Crew members such as La’Toyah who I first met in 2012 when I was an extra on a Newcastle Brown Ale advert that she was working on, Mark and Davy who I have known since 2001, and some of the Titan lads from the old days.

Finally, the two charities that I volunteer for at the moment help me a lot by keeping busy whilst on the sick:

13.) CLICSargent - I have been volunteering with these since 2015, first as a bucket collector at various events and now as a Tin Manager approaching businesses to see if they will take on a charity tin for the company and I have support from a lovely area manager, Dee.

14.) VODA - Back in January I was introduced to VODA in North Tyneside, a charity that does different community projects.

The first project I worked on was the Kindness Project which involved us making a big heart shaped teapot to carry in the parade for the Whitley Bay Festival which I thoroughly enjoyed.

The current project I am working on is an idea of mine which has been titled “Then and Now” and has two of us volunteering to interview people to get peoples memories of North Tyneside how they remember them compared to now which I am enjoying doing as well.

Here is a blog on my volunteering:

http://itspaulc1stvolunteering.blogspot.com/

If it wasn’t for these people or companies I have around me as a support network I would be in a sorry state so thank-you to everyone. 😉

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getcrystalized · 7 years

Text

Why the surprise I received on my Birthday was literally priceless

Click for the full story in video here: https://www.facebook.com/crystalhoytbeautyartistry/videos/1654056554666624/ HERE IS THE FULL STORY OF MY BIRTHDAY SURPRISE, AND WHY IT WAS SUCH A BIG DEAL FOR OUR FAMILY! Best Birthday Gift EVER... Ryman said his first real word today at the end of his KIDTALK (Vanderbilt research therapy) session. He said "BYE" (with Todd and I) and waved to his therapist. For those who don't understand autism, and how HUGE this is, I always try to take these little victories as an opportunity to educate and raise awareness. Around 25% of people living on the Autism spectrum never become verbal. I had known that Something was different with our baby as early as 9 months, because it wasn't that he seemed like he developing as a "late talker" as everyone kept trying to tell me... the problem was, Ryman didn't gesture, and he didn't follow our points or gestures with his eyes. He didn't try to communicate at all. He did 95% of things like every other baby his age, right up until he was about a year old, with the exception of initiating any form of communication. If he wanted something he just cried, and I would go into "fix it " mode and try to figure out what he needed or wanted, but I never had any guidance from him. He didn't really imitate sounds, and he didn't make any sort of requests. He grew more and more distant from us emotionally. We tried to make excuses based on how "normal" he was in every other way, but 18 months he was perfectly content to ignore us and play with a car, watch tv, or spin things for hours on end if we would have let him, so I decided, "no more excuses", and no more listening to everyone else, when my gut was telling me, "something is wrong". I had a LOT of appointments with "Dr Google", and one thing was clear... early intervention is CRUCIAL! We began intervention therapy through our state funded program and were assigned an amazing Developmental Therapist who had a lot of experience with autism and using new strategies, and he caught on very quickly and started to make requests for his toys. From there we started seeing his interaction with us grow rapidly. When he wanted something, he would look us right In the eye, he wanted to snuggle, sit with us, hug us, he would pull us into a room to see what was happening on the cartoon he was watching... he began to imitate sounds. It was literally like having a different child. But there were still obvious behavioral red flags... so When he turned 2 in April, he was officially diagnosed, and though heartbreaking and scary, the flood gate for therapy options opened for us. He now qualified for every early intervention therapy imaginable, because research shows this next year of his life is probably the MOST crucial for development and learning. We hit this full force and I thanked GOD every single day that I was able to be home with this child, because honestly these intervention therapies have become a literal FULL TIME job for me. I have celebrated, and I have cried. I had a severe identity crisis. I have all but given up anything I really wanted to do, at least in a time frame I would like to do it in... including making any sort of plans for my birthday (which had always been such a "big thing" for me in the past). But this morning, it was SO worth it. I truly got the greatest gift. I got to see and hear my sweet, happy little boy say his first word and use an appropriate gesture at the same time. I share this in such great detail to encourage everyone to learn about the early signs of autism, and if you see a child or talk to a parent who is concerned about their child's development in any way, please don't dismiss their concerns. It's natural to want to reassure them that nothing is wrong, but if there IS something wrong, it could be robbing that parent of something much greater... the ability to help their child instead. It is always better to be evaluated, and to be told everything is fine, than to ignore, and find out later that it isn't. It's a disservice to the parent, but even more importantly, it's a huge disservice to the child and everyone else who interacts with them. We still have a REALLY long road ahead of us, and I have no clue at this time how he will rank on the spectrum, or how rough that road will really be for our son , but I can tell you, that I wouldn't trade hearing the words I had dreaded for so long, "your son has autism", for the beautiful gift I received today (at 28 months) hearing him say his first word out loud. Happy Birthday to Me! #autismawareness #earlyintervention #love

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