Published on 12, July, 2020
Hello
I am newly diagnosed with mild ASD at 43. I'm especially sad at being childless - and this is a difficult time for me trying to understand what went wrong and how I can try and build a meaningful life for myself. Sometimes I wonder if it still can be fixed and I might still meet the ideal partner and still be a parent. But on the other hand, I've never had a relationship, so it is kind of unlikely. I'm not sure it would work anyway. I am curious if there are other people here who are childless by circumstance and suffer and feel sad about it.
I'm still coming to grips with the diagnosis because on the one hand it does explain a lot about how difficult school, social stuff and jobs were. On the other hand I don't completely recognize myself in the ASD "stereotype" as I believe myself to be overly empathetic, absorbing other people's emotions wherever I go. I am also more an extrovert and come across warm and outgoing (so people say). I tend to be the person all people come to with their problems. I am also not good at meticulous work (definitely not a computer geek, have adhd (original diagnosis) and find planning and organizing challenging). I had a burn-out at work, now I understand more that it was too taxing for me.
I don't fully believe it is only the ASD though, which causes my energy problems and chronic issues with tendon, muscle and joint pains (they say it is all due to the stress of overcompensating with ASD) but I sometimes wonder if it is also due to something physical (I tested positive for lyme disease).
Interested to meet others with similar experiences.
Hello again - thanks for your thoughtful and though-provoking post.
I really like your 'goldfish' metaphor - I often feel that the world outside my little sanctuary is something that I have adapted to 'survive' in, but that it definitely isn't my 'natural habitat'!
And no, I don't mind your metaphors at all - the bizarre, non-literal way that people use language fascinated me from a very young age. Collecting' unusual words, euphemisms and figure of speech has become one of my obsessive special interests. When I first moved to Yorkshire, it was a bit of a culture shock though - I still laugh when I hear local people say that their bus "blobbed" (didn't show up).
Disclosure is certainly a very tricky subject. I've generally been very cautious about it. So far I've told only the people treating me, and people that I am close enough to that they were already aware of my past burn-outs, anxiety and depression.
I find it is very hard to judge beforehand how people will react to disclosure. And the range of reactions is incredibly diverse. I haven't had anything too overtly negative - as in, the person suddenly having a lesser opinion of me - so far as I can tell. But I have experienced disbelief that my diagnosis is correct - which I try my best to take as a compliment on my acting ability!
Even healthcare professionals have very little awareness of autism. I've realised that since changing to a new counsellor who has worked before with people on the spectrum. I can see now that previous attempts at counselling were doomed to fail from the start, because typical cognitive based therapies were not designed with the differences in thought patterns which people with developmental disorders can have. For the vast majority of people, they're making reasonable assumptions, but for autistic people, it can just lead to further frustration at world's apparent inability to understand us.
The best way to tackle disclosure, I think, is to only express your needs as tactfully as possible whenever there's a specific obstacle to overcome. I'm much more honest now with people when I feel I'm missing the context of what is being said - but I will excuse myself as having a bad memory (true) or being tired (usually also true!). Economical with the truth, as the saying goes, but without lying to anyone. If people put two and two together, I wouldn't deny my diagnosis if asked directly - but I think the people that can spot us in the wild are usually the more sympathetic ones.
Disclosure to employers is probably the part of it that gives me the most anxiety. I haven't been employed since getting my diagnosis, but I do want to be. I want it to be something that I know I can sustain long-term, though - I've lost previous jobs due to what, I know in retrospect, were autistic burn-outs.
On the other hand, some of my close family have admitted to me some of the similar traits that they experience, now that I am more able to describe mine. I think I was lucky. I get the sense that my oddness didn't seem so outlandish to them when I was a child - so even though autism was not 'on the radar' for any of us, they understood my need to recharge my batteries after too much exposure to people. Family also really encouraged me to direct my obsessiveness into being creative and educating myself - an excellent way for me to wind down from frustrations.