#also god like i don't know i'm ok i'm still stuck up on the diagnosis thing especially because sigh i do view it as membership of a group

[bigthingsforeverintheworks]

socializing is so hard I'm like "yeah i finally got my depression done with forever (for real this time" and then I am in an environment with people and it's like "fuck how do I act i don't have the knowledge of the things should I be listening should I be looking I mean how do like verbal conversations work like they're clearly not oriented towards a goal in the same way emails are but they also just like don't have the same sort of "just kinda say things" that the internet has ok that's not fair I have held conversations, even if the initiation differs which is a big part of it but there is something different obviously like the expectation of latency & just basic woah you can't see them bit but also like it feels less direct. Oh and then now you have to deal with timing like 100x as often idk i think at the third time it's just time to give up. Though ok I mean I'm not incapable of verbal speech I can give answers in english class also why is my head burning and i mean i don't think my hands should be there do people care about that also i can't fathom the depravity of how i look"

[fairykukla]

Ok, here's a thought I've been thinking lately.

I'm 50 years old. I've watched, in real time, as Autism diagnosis and public perception has shifted over the years.

So for my Internet kids and grandkids, here's the deal:

Austism used to be a word that was whispered. It was like a death sentence. People with autism were shuffled away into care facilities or, like, still stuck in attics or something. If you knew someone with an autistic person in their life, the socially correct response was pity. "You poor thing, your child is autistic. What a burden. I'm so sorry."

Gradually, awareness started to happen. We got Rainman and Bill For Short. We also started to see diagnosis for hyperactivity, or ADHD, but those were kids (and mostly boys) who were disruptive, and were given heavy medications to calm them down.

But these were still situations where pity is given to the caregivers, and the people with autism or ADD were still stuck with "Be traumatized/medicated into masking disruptive behavior" or "Shuffled away into special schools/cate facilities."

Then we started to see more awareness. People in the spectrum started to speak up and speak out. There was still lots of stigma, but now it was more like, "Oh, your kid has Autism, but it's not AUTISM-autism, it's just Asperger's? Well thank God. You poor thing."

These stigmas are still in play. People still react with pity for caregivers and scorn for people on the spectrum.

Despite better and better understanding of autism, despite more and better language to discuss it, despite all the awareness being raised, that stigma is still around, baked into our culture.

This is part of the cognitive dissonance around "Hey, fellow adult friend? Do you think that I could be ... Autistic?" And they look worried, or cringe when you say, "Yeah, I could see that."

That person is fearful. They're shocked. They may be wrestling with The Horrors about it. For many of us who have worked out on our own that we are neurodivergent, whether through formal diagnosis or having the "Ah-Ha!" Moment with a self diagnostic tool, it can seem weird that someone is freaking out when they're faced with a similar situation.

Listen. I was a Weird Kid(tm). I was having SEVERE issues in school despite my high IQ and having two teachers as parents. In 1981 or so, the answer was that I had an "unspecified childhood neurosis" and a general anxiety disorder, that would later get the moniker "School Anxiety." I was not given meds, but I was given 5 years of talk therapy with a child psychiatrist.

As an adult, after a few years of thinking that I fit the profile for ADHD, my mom gave me all my paperwork from my childhood. (Immunizations, school records, and the like.) In that paperwork I found my evaluations from the early 80s. I had criteria I didn't even know about, and let me tell you; I'm in the AUDHD spectrum somewhere. My youngest cousin got her diagnosis early, but she was born when I was 33.

And then my father got his. My brother came to me in horrified shock. "Kukla, did you know that our father has autism?!?"

And I laughed. "Uh, yeah. Didn't you figure out that half the rules in our house growing up were to manage his sensory issues? Isn't it his dream to go disappear into the woods somewhere? Weren't you the one who calls it "Socializing with Papa" when you do tasks in the same space without talking to each other for a few hours? BRO HES A MATH TEACHER WHO BOUGHT A HOUSE NEXT TO A TRAIN TRACK AND COLLECTS MAPS."

But. I was the one who had five years of really excellent therapy to come to terms with being a weird kid. To take power from my weirdness, to use it as both sword and shield. To defeat the rejection sensitivity dysphoria, or at least mitigate its effects. (Now I just come across as an arrogant know it all. And I'm comfortable with that.) I live on the island of misfit toys, and they made me their goddess. Most of the people who are close to me are not neurotypical, and I don't just mean "the spectrum."

My brother is probably neurotypical... Apart from the dyslexia. He Plays The Sports. He does Bro things. His inner circle of friends and found family are "mundanes." He doesn't talk to autistic people everyday, or *thinks* that he doesn't talk to autistic people every day. So, for him, he found out that our father got diagnosed with Autism and freaked the fuck out.

So I say unto my fellow Tumblr gremlins, goblins, racoons, and misfit toys: be gentle with the newbies. If you see someone struggling about it just be nice to them.

They're expecting pity. Or scorn.

Don't give it to them.

Dance around and naruto-run and invite them to play, too. Teach them how to find their happy stim.

It is hard. But we can also be joyful. And we should.