Hello and why are words so difficult

Hi all

I am new, late diagnosed and have totally underestimated the impact of the diagnosis. A friend said to me a few months ago "I think I am autistic and I think you might be too". I have been through burnout in the last 2 years due to work related problems, a lot of gaslighting by junior colleagues and finally a grievance. I had asked for help from my line managers. Lot's of "sure we help you, but we can't do that". It was very very hard. I worked through it at my own expense (private counselling) and a lot of sheer will. When my friend mentioned autism I thought, if I had a diagnosis there would be something like leverage, if I needed help again in the future.

Now I have the diagnosis and I am lost... It is so much to learn. So much to understand. I feel I need help to understand, it is draining my energy, at the same time I am unable to put it into words. I can't say: I am autistic. I can write it, but I can't say it.

All my life (I am 47) there was this glimmer of hope, if I just learned more, worked harder I will be able to be ... A good communicator... A good leader... A good friend...etc. Now, it feels like I like a no. All that hard work, all that energy I put in...  I cause harm to myself by trying but will never get there... Inherently and in my environment, I will probably never get there.

Although, I get that this is wrongly striving to be neuro typical, it just feels like a loss.

I am trying to move on but find it difficult.

Any advice?

Parents
  • Thank you for all your kind messages. Patience with myself is not my strong point. It's so much easier to have patience with others.

    I thought my difficulty verbalising my feelings could be a form of alexithymia. It is a very interesting concept and looking back there are several events where it might have also been the case.

    Thank you so much guys.

    Freya-fs

  • Hello, Freya, and welcome!

    The burnout is real, and i sympathize fully with not having any other explanation besides autism. Accepting that autism comes with sorting through a whole ton of preconceived notions that you might not even know you have, so please be patient with yourself. Hold onto your core self and those hopes—you're still you, no matter the diagnosis, and that matters more than anything. Autism has been part of you all along, and it doesn't have to change who you are not—it only changes how you treat yourself.

    When I found out my diagnosis over a year and a half ago, my mother denied it as a possibility. I asked her to be happy for me, and she told me she'd given up on so many dreams she'd held for me because now her only wish was for me to be normal. That hurt more than anything, and it broke a little bit of me. 

    A year later, I am keeping myself apart from that messaging. I allow myself to stim more openly, I let myself have my headphones 24/7, and I eat the foods that make me feel comfortable instead of what other people tell me to eat. Finding who you are can sometimes involve an autism diagnosis, but like any other life journey, it looks different for everyone. Please don't lose hope—this is a chance to befriend yourself a second time. You haven't done a 180, it's just your view that has. 

    If it makes you feel better, don't even use the word autism. explain yourself in pieces to the mirror—"I need this. I like this. This makes me feel like this." Sometimes it's as simple as navigating new thinking patterns, sometimes it's as complex as filing for accommodations. Take it one step at a time. It's a long process, but we're here for you.

    Best of luck, Freya. You've got friends here.

Reply
  • Hello, Freya, and welcome!

    The burnout is real, and i sympathize fully with not having any other explanation besides autism. Accepting that autism comes with sorting through a whole ton of preconceived notions that you might not even know you have, so please be patient with yourself. Hold onto your core self and those hopes—you're still you, no matter the diagnosis, and that matters more than anything. Autism has been part of you all along, and it doesn't have to change who you are not—it only changes how you treat yourself.

    When I found out my diagnosis over a year and a half ago, my mother denied it as a possibility. I asked her to be happy for me, and she told me she'd given up on so many dreams she'd held for me because now her only wish was for me to be normal. That hurt more than anything, and it broke a little bit of me. 

    A year later, I am keeping myself apart from that messaging. I allow myself to stim more openly, I let myself have my headphones 24/7, and I eat the foods that make me feel comfortable instead of what other people tell me to eat. Finding who you are can sometimes involve an autism diagnosis, but like any other life journey, it looks different for everyone. Please don't lose hope—this is a chance to befriend yourself a second time. You haven't done a 180, it's just your view that has. 

    If it makes you feel better, don't even use the word autism. explain yourself in pieces to the mirror—"I need this. I like this. This makes me feel like this." Sometimes it's as simple as navigating new thinking patterns, sometimes it's as complex as filing for accommodations. Take it one step at a time. It's a long process, but we're here for you.

    Best of luck, Freya. You've got friends here.

Children
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