Published on 12, July, 2020
At 55 and menopausal, I've just received my autism diagnosis. I'm also likely have ADHD but am not yet diagnosed. So far, my husband and brother are the only ones that know - my husband because he lives with me and all my moods, and my brother because he once wondered if he was autistic too.
I am in the process of informing myself about this. However, first and foremost, I am struggling with the label 'autistic'. I've always had a trouble with labels (from 'loser' in my school years to 'she's an odd one' later on). Thankfully, my parents avoided the 'she's the clever/odd/pretty one' sort of categorization I've heard others use, so I've been free to define myself. They've just accepted me for who I am.
However, it now feels like I've got a big fat label stuck to my forehead. It oversimplifies the complex creature I feel myself to be - good, bad and indifferent combined. I don't want to be dealt with through this prism of understanding, the 'She's autistic, so that explains why she's overemotional/analytical/socially awkward/reserved/overly blunt' sort of thinking.
I now realize that I am suffering from autism burnout, but don't want to use that as an excuse for the meltdowns I've had. I don't want to have to explain who I am, which is just as exhausting as pretending I'm okay. Oversharing has consequences, I have found.
Your thoughts would be most welcome.
I felt an overwhelming sense of relief when I was diagnosed aged 50, which was 12 years ago now. I dont' feel it's stopped me being me, if anything the opposite, I feel freer to be me and if anyone objects to tell them to go and do things with lots of F's and B's. As I've got older I've become much less tollerant of intollerance and that includes people making judgements about me and how I can, should and ought to behave, I do not have to justify myself to others, I do not have to believe them when they try and "kindly" tell me how to be or what to believe, or behave. Especially behave, behave is such an emotionally freighted word, right from early childhood we're told to "behave", probably quite rightly so when we're small, but as adults we can choose how to behave as long as we're adult enough to accept the consequences. This course of action has lost me some friends, but then I ask myself how real were those friendships, if I couldn't really be me?
Remember like everyone else, whatever they're neurologial status you're fine
F***ed up
Insecure
Neurotic
(and) Egostistical