Adults On The Autism Spectrum

hugsand cuddles

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I was always different. As a small child, I didn't realize I was different. I only knew as early as the age of three or four that I wanted to kill myself. I had it all planned out how I would do that. If I failed, I planned to run away from home, and I had that figured out as well. That would mean leaving my beloved Father behind. But I knew my Mother didn't care about me, so, I figured I had no choice. She was mentally ill, having suffered terribly at the hands of an abusive male relative for many years. She would frequently tell me all kinds of things that unsettled me. That she was not my "real" mother, that she was just watching me until she could come to get me. In a very real sense, she was not my real mother. My "real" Mother was one of two ladies hired by my Father to take care of me when I was born. My biological mother had a difficult time accepting motherhood. She had some sort of breakdown when I was born, and was unable to care for me. After a year, my parents could no longer afford two nannies. But they let the wrong one go. Just like in the film the Help, I was that little girl crying and screaming, begging the woman who had loved her and raised her not to go. I could read before I went to school, and was used as a teacher's aide to help other kids learn to read and write. I was playing the piano for church services at the age of six, and teaching my third grade class their music lessons at the insistence of my teacher. I had superior hearing, off the charts, actually, when I was finally tested as an adult. I read a huge stack of books every day after school, returned them the next day, then checked out another stack. I felt that if I read enough, one day I would figure it all out. I ended up becoming a Social Worker, then a Special Educator. I read temple Grandin's book, Thinking In Pictures, and was stunned. I had not known until then, that other people did not think in pictures. This was a very big deal to me. I worked directly under a Psychologist for the school system for three years, trying to help a child on the Spectrum to find her place. I suspected at the time that I had ADHD, and had already been diagnosed with Depression. I was already collecting labels by the fistful, and certainly did not desire anymore. But I always knew there was more to me than just depression. Long after I was transferred to another position in the school system, I began studying more about Autism. It was only after the ADHD medicines had become ineffective that I began to understand there was indeed a Spectrum, and that all people with Autism did not present exactly the same way. I am very sociable, for example. I never meet a stranger. I know now that I was miserable for so long, I want to do everything I can to encourage other people struggling with life. Around five or so years ago, I think, I began to read bits and pieces from a woman named Samantha Craft. She wrote Everyday Aspergers, and had a long list of traits that might present in females. This was very significant, because until about this time, most medical professionals didn't recognize Autism in females, except for extreme cases. We know now that girls are much better at "masking" or mimicking what is considered to be normal or typical behavior. After remaining open to the possibility that I could be on the Spectrum, I began to take a series of tests that are commonly given as part of the process in determining Spectrum disorders. It must be understood that I was extremely motivated in determining the truth. I had absolutely no desire whatsoever to attempt to make my scores high enough to "fit" the diagnosis. For me, this was a life or death matter. I have limited access to competent medical professionals who have had good success in working with persons on the Spectrum. Where I live, the closest place would be Birmingham, AL. I am raising a thirteen year old, have various health conditions, and a dear husband who is on immunosuppressant therapy. My days are filled with Homeschool and cleaning, so that his many allergies to not put him in respiratory distress. If I ever manage to have the time to get an appointment with a really good Psychiatrist an hour and a half's drive away, it will be just one more affirmation. I know where I come from and I know where I belong. The Spectrum is a perfect fit for me. My brain is just wired differently. All my senses are heightened to the nth degree. Things that used to torment me, now make sense. Sorry this is so long. I have actually left out an awful lot.

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I was always different. As a small child, I didn't realize I was different. I only knew as early as the age of three or four that I wanted to kill myself. I had it all planned out how I would do that. If I failed, I planned to run away from home, and I had that figured out as well. That would mean leaving my beloved Father behind. But I knew my Mother didn't care about me, so, I figured I had no choice. She was mentally ill, having suffered terribly at the hands of an abusive male relative for many years. She would frequently tell me all kinds of things that unsettled me. That she was not my "real" mother, that she was just watching me until she could come to get me. In a very real sense, she was not my real mother. My "real" Mother was one of two ladies hired by my Father to take care of me when I was born. My biological mother had a difficult time accepting motherhood. She had some sort of breakdown when I was born, and was unable to care for me. After a year, my parents could no longer afford two nannies. But they let the wrong one go. Just like in the film the Help, I was that little girl crying and screaming, begging the woman who had loved her and raised her not to go. I could read before I went to school, and was used as a teacher's aide to help other kids learn to read and write. I was playing the piano for church services at the age of six, and teaching my third grade class their music lessons at the insistence of my teacher. I had superior hearing, off the charts, actually, when I was finally tested as an adult. I read a huge stack of books every day after school, returned them the next day, then checked out another stack. I felt that if I read enough, one day I would figure it all out. I ended up becoming a Social Worker, then a Special Educator. I read temple Grandin's book, Thinking In Pictures, and was stunned. I had not known until then, that other people did not think in pictures. This was a very big deal to me. I worked directly under a Psychologist for the school system for three years, trying to help a child on the Spectrum to find her place. I suspected at the time that I had ADHD, and had already been diagnosed with Depression. I was already collecting labels by the fistful, and certainly did not desire anymore. But I always knew there was more to me than just depression. Long after I was transferred to another position in the school system, I began studying more about Autism. It was only after the ADHD medicines had become ineffective that I began to understand there was indeed a Spectrum, and that all people with Autism did not present exactly the same way. I am very sociable, for example. I never meet a stranger. I know now that I was miserable for so long, I want to do everything I can to encourage other people struggling with life. Around five or so years ago, I think, I began to read bits and pieces from a woman named Samantha Craft. She wrote Everyday Aspergers, and had a long list of traits that might present in females. This was very significant, because until about this time, most medical professionals didn't recognize Autism in females, except for extreme cases. We know now that girls are much better at "masking" or mimicking what is considered to be normal or typical behavior. After remaining open to the possibility that I could be on the Spectrum, I began to take a series of tests that are commonly given as part of the process in determining Spectrum disorders. It must be understood that I was extremely motivated in determining the truth. I had absolutely no desire whatsoever to attempt to make my scores high enough to "fit" the diagnosis. For me, this was a life or death matter. I have limited access to competent medical professionals who have had good success in working with persons on the Spectrum. Where I live, the closest place would be Birmingham, AL. I am raising a thirteen year old, have various health conditions, and a dear husband who is on immunosuppressant therapy. My days are filled with Homeschool and cleaning, so that his many allergies to not put him in respiratory distress. If I ever manage to have the time to get an appointment with a really good Psychiatrist an hour and a half's drive away, it will be just one more affirmation. I know where I come from and I know where I belong. The Spectrum is a perfect fit for me. My brain is just wired differently. All my senses are heightened to the nth degree. Things that used to torment me, now make sense. Sorry this is so long. I have actually left out an awful lot.

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@mamacita You make yourself known in such a refreshing way! Teresa

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I was always different. As a small child, I didn't realize I was different. I only knew as early as the age of three or four that I wanted to kill myself. I had it all planned out how I would do that. If I failed, I planned to run away from home, and I had that figured out as well. That would mean leaving my beloved Father behind. But I knew my Mother didn't care about me, so, I figured I had no choice. She was mentally ill, having suffered terribly at the hands of an abusive male relative for many years. She would frequently tell me all kinds of things that unsettled me. That she was not my "real" mother, that she was just watching me until she could come to get me. In a very real sense, she was not my real mother. My "real" Mother was one of two ladies hired by my Father to take care of me when I was born. My biological mother had a difficult time accepting motherhood. She had some sort of breakdown when I was born, and was unable to care for me. After a year, my parents could no longer afford two nannies. But they let the wrong one go. Just like in the film the Help, I was that little girl crying and screaming, begging the woman who had loved her and raised her not to go. I could read before I went to school, and was used as a teacher's aide to help other kids learn to read and write. I was playing the piano for church services at the age of six, and teaching my third grade class their music lessons at the insistence of my teacher. I had superior hearing, off the charts, actually, when I was finally tested as an adult. I read a huge stack of books every day after school, returned them the next day, then checked out another stack. I felt that if I read enough, one day I would figure it all out. I ended up becoming a Social Worker, then a Special Educator. I read temple Grandin's book, Thinking In Pictures, and was stunned. I had not known until then, that other people did not think in pictures. This was a very big deal to me. I worked directly under a Psychologist for the school system for three years, trying to help a child on the Spectrum to find her place. I suspected at the time that I had ADHD, and had already been diagnosed with Depression. I was already collecting labels by the fistful, and certainly did not desire anymore. But I always knew there was more to me than just depression. Long after I was transferred to another position in the school system, I began studying more about Autism. It was only after the ADHD medicines had become ineffective that I began to understand there was indeed a Spectrum, and that all people with Autism did not present exactly the same way. I am very sociable, for example. I never meet a stranger. I know now that I was miserable for so long, I want to do everything I can to encourage other people struggling with life. Around five or so years ago, I think, I began to read bits and pieces from a woman named Samantha Craft. She wrote Everyday Aspergers, and had a long list of traits that might present in females. This was very significant, because until about this time, most medical professionals didn't recognize Autism in females, except for extreme cases. We know now that girls are much better at "masking" or mimicking what is considered to be normal or typical behavior. After remaining open to the possibility that I could be on the Spectrum, I began to take a series of tests that are commonly given as part of the process in determining Spectrum disorders. It must be understood that I was extremely motivated in determining the truth. I had absolutely no desire whatsoever to attempt to make my scores high enough to "fit" the diagnosis. For me, this was a life or death matter. I have limited access to competent medical professionals who have had good success in working with persons on the Spectrum. Where I live, the closest place would be Birmingham, AL. I am raising a thirteen year old, have various health conditions, and a dear husband who is on immunosuppressant therapy. My days are filled with Homeschool and cleaning, so that his many allergies to not put him in respiratory distress. If I ever manage to have the time to get an appointment with a really good Psychiatrist an hour and a half's drive away, it will be just one more affirmation. I know where I come from and I know where I belong. The Spectrum is a perfect fit for me. My brain is just wired differently. All my senses are heightened to the nth degree. Things that used to torment me, now make sense. Sorry this is so long. I have actually left out an awful lot.

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@mamasitalucita

I appreciate your starting this discussion of the Spectrum. This could be very enlightening for many of our adults who have problems that seem to be beyond treatment.

Could you share a bit more about how the Spectrum diagnosis came about? Was it a professional who diagnosed you? If so, what in particular led to this diagnosis?

Once again, when sharing personal experiences on this online community, please feel free to share only as you are comfortable doing so.

Teresa

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I was always different. As a small child, I didn't realize I was different. I only knew as early as the age of three or four that I wanted to kill myself. I had it all planned out how I would do that. If I failed, I planned to run away from home, and I had that figured out as well. That would mean leaving my beloved Father behind. But I knew my Mother didn't care about me, so, I figured I had no choice. She was mentally ill, having suffered terribly at the hands of an abusive male relative for many years. She would frequently tell me all kinds of things that unsettled me. That she was not my "real" mother, that she was just watching me until she could come to get me. In a very real sense, she was not my real mother. My "real" Mother was one of two ladies hired by my Father to take care of me when I was born. My biological mother had a difficult time accepting motherhood. She had some sort of breakdown when I was born, and was unable to care for me. After a year, my parents could no longer afford two nannies. But they let the wrong one go. Just like in the film the Help, I was that little girl crying and screaming, begging the woman who had loved her and raised her not to go. I could read before I went to school, and was used as a teacher's aide to help other kids learn to read and write. I was playing the piano for church services at the age of six, and teaching my third grade class their music lessons at the insistence of my teacher. I had superior hearing, off the charts, actually, when I was finally tested as an adult. I read a huge stack of books every day after school, returned them the next day, then checked out another stack. I felt that if I read enough, one day I would figure it all out. I ended up becoming a Social Worker, then a Special Educator. I read temple Grandin's book, Thinking In Pictures, and was stunned. I had not known until then, that other people did not think in pictures. This was a very big deal to me. I worked directly under a Psychologist for the school system for three years, trying to help a child on the Spectrum to find her place. I suspected at the time that I had ADHD, and had already been diagnosed with Depression. I was already collecting labels by the fistful, and certainly did not desire anymore. But I always knew there was more to me than just depression. Long after I was transferred to another position in the school system, I began studying more about Autism. It was only after the ADHD medicines had become ineffective that I began to understand there was indeed a Spectrum, and that all people with Autism did not present exactly the same way. I am very sociable, for example. I never meet a stranger. I know now that I was miserable for so long, I want to do everything I can to encourage other people struggling with life. Around five or so years ago, I think, I began to read bits and pieces from a woman named Samantha Craft. She wrote Everyday Aspergers, and had a long list of traits that might present in females. This was very significant, because until about this time, most medical professionals didn't recognize Autism in females, except for extreme cases. We know now that girls are much better at "masking" or mimicking what is considered to be normal or typical behavior. After remaining open to the possibility that I could be on the Spectrum, I began to take a series of tests that are commonly given as part of the process in determining Spectrum disorders. It must be understood that I was extremely motivated in determining the truth. I had absolutely no desire whatsoever to attempt to make my scores high enough to "fit" the diagnosis. For me, this was a life or death matter. I have limited access to competent medical professionals who have had good success in working with persons on the Spectrum. Where I live, the closest place would be Birmingham, AL. I am raising a thirteen year old, have various health conditions, and a dear husband who is on immunosuppressant therapy. My days are filled with Homeschool and cleaning, so that his many allergies to not put him in respiratory distress. If I ever manage to have the time to get an appointment with a really good Psychiatrist an hour and a half's drive away, it will be just one more affirmation. I know where I come from and I know where I belong. The Spectrum is a perfect fit for me. My brain is just wired differently. All my senses are heightened to the nth degree. Things that used to torment me, now make sense. Sorry this is so long. I have actually left out an awful lot.

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