One more spam from the new guy

Post Reply New Topic

I've already shared My First Post™ just moments ago, but can I go for a second ride real quick?

No one needs to read any of this. What I'm about to share is nothing new to anyone, but I think it'll make me feel better to let it out.

Retrospect; things I discovered about myself after receiving an ASD diagnosis earlier this week at age 39 (roughly six years after first receiving my ADHD diagnosis):

Now I understand why I have "my fork" in the drawer. It's smaller than the others, and the only one like it. Everyone in the home knows that's my fork. I call it the "toddler fork" because of its size, plus the fact that I do a little happy dance anytime I get it out of the drawer.

Now I understand why I'll wave or twist a spoon or fork in the air, particularly if I'm cooking (like, waiting on noodles to boil), or shake my fork with my wrist while standing in line to make my plate -- it's the hand-flappy thing that doesn't look like hand-flappies, so I get away with it.

Now I understand why I want to eat the same thing at whatever restaurant I'm in. We're going to Chili's? Great, that means today is Cajun Shrimp and Pasta day. Oh, scratch that, we're going to Applebee's instead? Damn, I really had my heart set on pasta. Now I'll have to get something that is not shrimp and pasta on the day that is Cajun Shrimp and Pasta day; there is disorder in the universe and it makes my teeth itch.

Now I understand why I get so frustrated when my girlfriend or my mom ask me to do something with little to no notice. Even if I know it's a reasonable request and easy to take care of, I still feel extreme discomfort if anyone screws with my schedule or current activity.

Now I understand why I feel so perturbed when someone walks into my office and just starts talking about whatever it is they want. Like, how dare you bother me; can't you see I'm busy?

Now I understand why my first marriage was so fraught with problems. I remember my wife getting us into deep conversations about very personal and private subjects, and how I would eventually drive her to tears because it appeared to her that I didn't care or didn't want to talk. Or worse, I'd go into shutdown and become non-verbal -- that was the strangest feeling, the urge to speak, but I just couldn't do it. "Why won't you talk to me?" she'd scream through her sobbing. We've been divorced for almost nine years, but I still feel just awful about that.

Now I understand why, even though I am a musician with a deep appreciation for music, I don't listen to music as often as my musician peers. The only times I'll listen to music is when I deliberately seek out a specific song or pre-made playlist, and then I'll listen to that over and over. Making playlists is difficult, so I just won't do that. Otherwise, in car rides for instance, I'd prefer to listen to stand-up comedy. For some reason, that's easier to choose than trying to decide what song I want to hear.

Speaking of music... now I think I understand why certain songs are so profoundly deep that I can "see" the music. Oh, TikTok, show me that dude who plays cello with a piano backing track, and I'll turn my phone sideways, close my eyes, and "watch" the music in my mind. It's the ultimate high!

Now I understand why it causes me physical pain to hear repetitive things like a crying baby or a ringing phone.

Now I understand why I can't stand long sleeves or pants. I'm constantly pulling my sleeves up, then pulling them back down, then back up... which every way my sleeves are, it feels wrong, and the other way would feel better (but it doesn't).

Speaking of sleeves, I would always cringe whenever I'd see someone pull on a jacket or coat over long sleeves. In my mind, I could feel the sleeves of the shirt bunching up as the sleeves of the jacket or coat were sliding on. I always had to dig into my coat sleeves and "line up" my shirt sleeve inside, and I was always miffed at why I never saw anyone else do that. Like, how the hell do you not feel your sleeves all scrunched up like that?

Now I understand why I'm perfectly happy wearing the same clothes every day. I have exactly five Columbia PFG fishing shirts, all the same style (but different colors, at least) one for each weekday. And I have two of the same black fishing pants that zip off into shorts (and yeah, they're short far more often than they are pants). If I could get by with owning just one shirt, that'd be fantastic, but I know it's not clean and that it would bother other people.

Now I understand why my socks have to go on just exactly right. And if I couldn't get the seam in the right place, I had to get a different sock. Or worse, I can tell the difference in thickness each sock. I will try on at least three different socks until they match.

Now I understand why I've always needed sunglasses outside. I thought my eyes hurt simply because I've been accustomed to using sunglasses.

Now I understand why I can hear things like ultrasonic devices for dogs (used for behavior modification for nuisance barking, for instance). Yes, I can hear a damn dog whistle. I can hear a TV screen (the old cathode ray tube style) being on, even if it's displaying nothing. I can even hear something fall in another room, and while most people would say "What was that?", I can usually describe exactly what it was and how it fell.

Now I understand why I maintain a list of words that I do not like because they just feel awkward to say and hear, or even think; you will never hear me use the word "beverage" yick!. Probably the same reason I abhor cliché.

Now I understand why I was always perfectly happy to play by myself when I was a kid. When I was about 12 years old, I had a cardboard box of electronics crap in the corner of the garage -- stuff I'd scammed out of things like telephones and radios and pretty much anything with a circuit board inside. One day, mom threw that box away and told me to go outside and play, make some friends, and that it was unhealthy to stay home by myself like that. I was also "grounded" from possessing any sort of electronic thing for like three months or whatever... it was very traumatizing.

Now I understand why I'm soooooo drained after any social event or situation.

Now I understand why I can be friends with almost anyone, regardless of culture, race, upbringing, social status, education, or live experience -- I'll befriend a tatt'd up biker with a beard just as easily as a flute-playing old lady. I 'm an expert masker and imitator; almost immediately, I'll know exactly how to act around you so that you see me as one of you and you'll be comfortable in my company.

Now I understand why I get confused when you ask me "How's it going?" I've learned that people don't really want to know, that you're actually supposed to say stuff like "I'm good!" or "I woke up alive this morning, so it can't all be bad, right?" and toss in a fake laugh. Except that I always say the same damn phrase, "I'm peachy", and that's probably weird to everyone else.

Now I understand why gifts and compliments are so difficult for me to handle. I don't know how to react accordingly. I know I'm supposed to say "Thank you" and smile, but that doesn't seem commensurate to the kindness you've extended to me, so I know it'll come off as fake and empty. Things are easier if you don't give me anything or say anything nice about me to me.

Now I know why I often come off as rude when all I think I'm doing is being objective and factual. At work, there's a term called the "Clark email" -- if you commit a misstep that I have to respond to, that's a "Clark email", and no one wants one of those. (I'm never rude or ugly, just strictly professional and very, very direct.)

Now I understand why every email takes me at least a half hour to compose before feeling comfortable to send it.

Now I understand... you.


Wow, that felt good to put out there. Whew!

I agree. The diagnosis explained so much. My signature block is not kidding, I insisted we pickup some champagne on the way home from getting my diagnosis (and more champagne after the written report arrived in the mail).

And, yes, if I'm in a familiar restaurant my order is very predictable (though different orders in different restaurants). But, as I explained to the Psychologist who diagnosed me, when I go to a restaurant I want a good meal and if I'm familiar with a restaurant and know how to get a good meal there, of course I order that good meal. (Though I admit I was amused when one cashier started ringing up my order as soon as she saw me walk in the door.)

A lot of the other things you mentioned also sound familiar.

Now that I know they're Autism traits, when my bride bumps into them she gets to hear me say:

"I have a doctor's note for that!"
This amuses me much more than it amuses her. She was tired of hearing it before we left the Psychologist's office.

He. Is. Not. Kidding.

About any of this...

Not diagnosed til age 68 and suddenly my world made sense. It has been such a relief to understand all those "whys" from before , and see how autism worked behind the scenes for so long and made so many struggles and such self blame. It really has made a world of difference now I know! Glad you are with us.

Welcome to Wrong Planet!

You had me nodding along. I feel some of these on a spiritual level.