Published on 12, July, 2020
Am I grieving?
Being diagnosed with autism at the age of 30 was a defining moment in my life, but not in the way some might expect. Instead of unlocking a world of understanding, it felt like I had uncovered a Pandora's box of lost opportunities, missed connections, and the harsh reality of a childhood and education that slipped through my fingers.
As I reflect on my life, I can't help but feel the weight of a lost childhood. The struggles that seemed insurmountable, the friendships that never formed, and the feeling of being on the outside looking in – these are the echoes of my early years. Autism wasn't a badge of honor; it was a veil that clouded my perception and left me isolated.
My educational journey was a rocky road paved with misunderstandings and unmet needs. The challenges I faced were not acknowledged or addressed appropriately. Instead of support, I received confusion and frustration. The diagnosis at 30 brought with it a bitter realization – the education system had failed me, leaving scars that time couldn't erase.
The response to my diagnosis surprised me. Instead of empathy, I encountered a barrage of well-intentioned but misguided narratives. Non-autistic people, perhaps seeking comfort in their own understanding, spread the nonsense that autism is not a disability but a superpower. It's as if they believe we should be grateful for a condition that, in my experience, has been more debilitating than empowering.
"Appreciate having autism; it's a gift," they say. But what about the struggles, the isolation, the daily battles with a world that I can't fit into? It's not a gift; it's a complex and challenging aspect of my identity. To dismiss the difficulties as mere negativity denies the reality of my experience.
The rhetoric surrounding autism sometimes takes on an exclusive club mentality. As if we should be honored to be part of some elite group. Terms like "aspie" are thrown around, treating us like cute, endearing pets. I am not a novelty. I am a person with real struggles, aspirations, and a desire for understanding.
Being diagnosed with autism at 30 was a revelation that forced me to confront my past and reimagine my future. It's not a superpower; it's not a gift. It's a part of me, with its own complexities and challenges. So what now?
What I've learned over the years is everyone has their own personal struggles even neurotypicals. I agree that overall the "perks" are usually far outweighed by the downsides but at least I know they are others. I spent my entire childhood thinking I was the only one that had special intrests and masked like a undercover agent just to talk to people...