adulting

The Results are IN!

On 8th December 2017 I sat down in a psychologist’s office and underwent a series of assessments/tests that are used to diagnose Autism Spectrum Disorders in adults. I discussed my childhood, my teen years and my struggles in life both as a young person and as an adult. My Mum also filled out some forms about me and also answered some questions from the Psychologist about me as a toddler – it’s easier to diagnose ASD if they have a decent amount of history from around the age of 4, so it was really important that my Mum attended with me. I left the appointment and Christmas and New Year came and went….

Six agonising weeks passed and finally my result appointment was here.

I sat down in my psychologist’s office once again, and nervously grasping at my coffee, I waited with bated breath. She asked me what I was expecting or hoping for and I answered honestly, while looking at my feet, “I’m hoping for an ASD diagnosis”.

A slow pause and she starts reading out parts of her report (that she had yet to finish) and listed how many points I scored for certain questions and how that measured up to a diagnosis…….

It turns out that on the ADOS 2 assessment, I scored 9. The threshold for an ASD diagnosis is 7, so I can say that I am officially diagnosed as being on the Autism Spectrum and I have Autism Spectrum Disorder. I am not ‘neuro-typical’ – not that that comes as a huge surprise to anyone that knows me, personally!

Part of the report says  “she did not ask for information during the ADOS 2 in a social manner; that is, she did not inquire about nor express interest in the examiner’s thoughts, feelings or experiences, even when presented with a leading statement to investigate further.”  – I feel particularly embarrassed about this part of the report, as it seems so obvious to me looking back. I remember the discussion and kick myself that I didn’t ask her any questions about herself – but then, I also have to remind myself that this isn’t my fault. I am autistic and part of that means that I do not consider other people’s feelings or thoughts instinctively, like neuro-typical people do. It is something I can now understand and accept.

Being diagnosed with Autism wasn’t a surprise to me, but it did take me a week or so to let it sink in – I wasn’t ‘normal’ and after 31 years, it’s a shock. It did though, validate my feelings that I was innately different to the general public – an inkling I’d had since I was a young teen.

However, I now have to navigate the world knowing that my brain isn’t developed in the same way as most people. This means I’m now constantly questioning myself and trying to figure out who I am. Questions like ‘is this my autism, or is this my personal taste?’ and things like that. How much of what I do and say is down to being autistic? You can see where I’m going with this…. it has opened up a can of worms in a sense.

In contrast, it has also given me a sense of relief. Relief that there is now a clinical, medical reason for why I have found life more difficult, more stressful and less enjoyable than most people. I’ve struggled socially since I can remember and now I know why; it wasn’t my fault that I couldn’t keep friendships going through school. It wasn’t my fault that I was in my early 20s before I had a boyfriend and lost my virginity. Social skills don’t come naturally to me and now I understand why. I understand why I’ve struggled with Social Anxiety Syndrome since my teens; it turns out that Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and ASD are often seen together – anxiety disorders are also co-morbid conditions often found alongside EDS and ASD – and I have all 3!!!

So that explains it. I’m autistic. I am autistic. And that’s okay. I guess that also makes me somewhat of a genius in a way… I’ll get onto that in another blog post!

Ta ta for now xx

 

 

 

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Millennials; Isn’t it time to grow up?

So, I was sat doing the usual daily scroll through Facebook this afternoon and it occurred to me how many memes there are making light of twenty-somethings and their failures…


But it wasn’t always like this. In the 1940s, at the age of twenty they were enlisted and sent off to war. They were MEN, fighting for this country, taking responsibility for their country and their family, often leaving their wives behind to work in the factories and fields.

In 2017, I am surrounded by men in their late twenties who simply refuse to grow up. They spend their wages on nights out, illicit substances, booze and then fall into their (private rented) bed with a takeaway. This happens regularly and they then sit down the pub and moan about how much debt they’re in, how awful their relationship is or how much they hate their job (in some cases, all three!)

And I’m sitting here thinking… Grow the fuck up! Take responsibility for the (terrible) choices you’ve made that have put you in the position you’re in now. If you hate your life so much, do something to make it better instead of burying your head in the sand (or by shoving coke up your nose) and hoping it’ll go away.

I’m no saint, of course. I’ve made some not-so-sensible decisions in my 30 years I’ve been alive, BUT I can say that I have made the best of a bad situation.

Through no fault of my own I still live with my parents. I was born with a disability that means I cannot support myself financially and as I live with my parents, I do have disposable income. However, I have not disposed of this income in the way I described above, for the main reason of knowing how hard my future will be when I can no longer rely on my parents.

At the age of 13 I was given £200 when my Grandma died. It went straight into a “car fund” that I set up for myself because I have always wanted to drive and be independent. The Car Fund grew, slowly and it has been used to buy myself a car.

I was in a nasty car accident at 19 and got a nice chunk of compensation. Of course I bought myself a new wardrobe, a flatscreen TV and a laptop. I went on to sell the TV and I still wear most of the clothes I bought back then (and they’re now falling apart!). I like to think that I’m careful with money and appreciate how lucky (or unlucky!) I have been to have what I have.

Others don’t seem so grateful. If anything, they appear like spoilt brats to me; they’re able bodied, able to earn thousands of pounds a year, yet due to bad decisions, they’re scraping by every month and continue to moan about it and posts memes on their Facebook making light of their seemingly miserable lives.

I am fully aware that I’m not perfect, but I can say I am an aware and authentic person who is trying to think about my future and plan for it.

I’ve been sensible with money and I have chosen a partner who is also good with money yet it wasn’t an accident – if I happened to get into a relationship with someone to find that they were terrible with money (like my own father is) I would run for the hills. According to an article in the Huffington Post money problems (and incompatible views on money) is one of the biggest factors in divorce in the modern age.

It’s not just about money though, I think it’s about maturity. It’s a known fact that men mature later than women, but I’ve also noticed the abundance of women in their twenties who still love Disney, still fantasize about finding their Disney Prince and refuse to grow up. It’s an epidemic. We are still behaving like children well into our twenties and thirties.

Millennials, isn’t it time you grew up?