So, there I was, embarking on my epic journey of self-discovery, armed with my newfound self-diagnosis of autism. It’s like I stumbled into an erupting volcano of emotions, and let me tell you, it’s no laughing matter – well, maybe just a bit.
Autistic people, as I found out, often have this uncanny ability to keep their feelings at arm’s length, like they’re tucked away in some secret mental attic. Naming those elusive emotions? Well, that’s a different story. Not being able to figure out what those emotions are, cause some discrepancy between what goes on the mind and what’s felt in the body. You see, what’s perfectly fine in the head can turn into a circus in the body.
Take, for instance, my mental pep talk – ‘Having autism isn’t so bad; it explains all those quirks I’ve had my entire life!’ My brain was in the cool club, but my body had other plans. Suddenly, I found myself in the land of sleepless nights and an inconvenient, erm, toilet situation. It’s like my body said, ‘Cool story, bro, but we’re going rogue!’
I’ve got a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in my noggin right now. But, here’s the kicker – when I try to wrap my head around it in a logical way, it’s like trying to catch a greased pig at a county fair. Slippery, elusive, and often leaving me in a state of hopeless confusion.
So, picture this: I’m sitting in my psychologist’s office just two days ago. She seems to be on board with my “You’re on the autism spectrum” theory – and that’s probably slightly related to the fact I pulled out a list of more than 50 traits I’d collected from the five books about autism I devoured in the past two weeks. We didn’t say it out loud, but the unspoken question hung in the air: ‘Why, after all these sessions, did we never consider that I might be on the spectrum?’ I mean, the family tree’s got more autism branches than I’ve got quirky traits! She didn’t have an answer, but her apologetic nod told me everything.
We came to a somewhat revealing crossroads, my psychologist and I. It was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole – the approach she’d been using just didn’t quite fit. But we’re not throwing in the towel just yet. Nope, we decided to keep the comedy train chugging along. She’s going to tweak her approach, slowing things down a smidge to match my quirky rhythm.
She even made a revelation – she’s been dealing with a couple of other autistic patients. The grand plan? To connect me with one of them. But hey, I’m not entirely sure if I’m ready for a full-blown autistic pow-wow. I might need a smidge more time to process this whirlwind of information, just like any self-respecting “autistic man” would.
So, there you have it, folks – my topsy-turvy adventure in the wacky world of autism. It’s like a rollercoaster with more loop-de-loops than a spaghetti strand in a toddler’s hand. Stay tuned for the next episode of “As the Autism Turns,” where I navigate the zany maze of self-discovery with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.