To those who were diagnosed post 40, thinking back, what are some ‘autistic’ things you can now recall you used to do?
I had a flashback just now, of when I was about 5 at break in school. I used to enjoy observing the grass, and all the different types of plants that grew there. I especially liked clover, and would always try to find one with 4 leaves 
I liked the tiny insects as well. Also, I would always imitate sounds (still do, but not quite as often).
I had 2 imaginary friends. I started school early because my father had taught me to read, add, subtract and play chess before 4 - mind, they divorced when I was 5 and my mother knew little of education so was proper bored and unable to really advance. But I was always incredibly quiet / shy. Can concur, playtimes were a nightmare. We moved around a lot and I discovered the teacher everyone disliked I'd always seem to get along with. They'd let me sit in their class and study instead of going out. I'd find ways to escape the smells and terrible echoes of lunchtime as well.
The scarf fascinated me. It was a proper school scarf. I followed him around a bit transfixed by the scarf.
AYE am transfixed by this scarf!! 
You're where I was before I lost my mum. Her arthritis got worse and worse over the years before she died and I had to take up housework, but due to my major procrastination problem I wasn't able to do a good job of it. Wish I could have done better for her during that time of her life after everything she did for me.
As for people not listening, that doesn't surprise me, the support worker I have now outright told me she doesn't get why I can't do things without being prompted, because she's spent her career caring mostly for physically disabled people. Autism seems to be the kind of thing you can only understand if you have some amount of lived experience with it.
Your early school experience sounds so similar to mine that I could have written parts of that.
I was incredibly excited and enthusiastic about attending school for the first time. I thought I was going to be taught how to read write properly and improve my maths skills. Like you I thought it was going to be neat rows of desks with the teacher writing on the blackboard at the front. It was a huge disappointment to be presented with toys and be expected to play with the other children. I could not see the point of that at all and refused to join in. No amount of encouragement or coaxing would persuade me to do so and the teachers soon lost patience with me.
Playtimes were a complete nightmare. I did not want to go outside with the other children and could not understand why I had to. Once outside I became incredibly distressed by the noise the other children were making screaming and squealing. That resulted in huge meltdowns which usually resulted in me being 'punished' by being made to sit in the corner facing the wall for the rest of the days lessons. That was fine with me most of the time as at least I didn't have to join in with the silly play learning. However on the rare occasions when the class did look at a book and I wasn't allowed to I became inconsolable.
Lunch times were even worse. I have vivid memories of the overwhelming noise in the dining hall, scraping plates the noise of the cutlery, the other children. Cue more huge meltdowns due to the noise and I was too upset to eat anything at all. I've also had lifelong eating issues and anxiety eating in front of others as a consequence of these early experiences.
Eventually the school contacted my mum and said that she had to come and collect me and take me away from the school premises at break times and lunch times.
So many signs of autism were there but at that time (1970s) hardly anything was known about it.
at the age 4 - 18 I would always run away from bullies as fast as I can (unless they cornered me, than I would go badger), picking up the most difficult routes, e.g. over a fence
at about 5-6 y.o. I inherited from older cousin set of building blocks, plain cuboids you could join together, and whole range of plastic models of animals, they were about the size of box of cigarette filters each, I was fascinated with them and everyday all over again I would build a better version of zoo/fences/corridors where animals would be kept, I snatched some nails and a wrist chain from somewhere, separated it into smaller parts, and I would chain animals to the nails pushed into blocks, I had to dismantle it at the end of the day (I spent my first 7 years on a farm)
at about 7-8y.o. I had a collection of various objects/souvenirs, I would put them on a shelf in a specific order/positions, It was cardinal sin to mess it up, my sisters were doing it when I was away, when I was back I would notice it right away and have meltdown, meltdown that everyone in family would laugh about during family meetings for months, just to be clear, nobody told my sisters it's bad thing to do, and grownup's reaction would rather encourage every kid to do it again
at about 3 -6 y.o I loved to make objects vibrate to create sounds, driving everyone mad
I'm sorry you've lost her now. But I get that. When I finally got my diagnosis, my mother cried. She said she always knew there was something, that she kept trying to tell the school, but no one would listen to her.
She's frail now and I guess the tables have turned a bit. She needs me to do what she can't now I guess.
I can dig that, my relationship with my mum was similar, she loved me but didn't understand me or know how to help me. Our relationship was a mixture of resentment and love, so we'd often end up having an argument due to the resentment building up over time then make up with hugs.
The last ten years of her life I thought she'd given up trying to help me and just decided to do whatever made me happy, but a year before she died of cancer I found a leaflet titled 'How to take care of your autistic child' so even in her late sixties she was still trying.
ahh, I'm sorry your mum got angry.
My relationship with my mother was just very distant. I wouldn't tolerate her trying to hug or kiss me and we really didn't get each other at all. I think she's got a few traits and we weren't able to read each other. She has often said I was independent from the get go, like that was a flaw or something. It took me years to figure out she was looking for some closeness I wasn't giving her. I think she needed me to need her, and well...I just didn't.
I never thought she liked me very much, but she was very dutiful and proud of my achievements. It took me into middle age to realise that she did actually like me but couldn't show it in any way I could understand. She did appreciate the tidy room, though.
I hope that behaviour helped your mum love you. I remember my mum would often gather up all my toys and threaten to throw them all away because I'd unintentionally done or said or not done something that made her angry.
Yeah! My mum says I was forever arranging not just my toys but my whole bed room. Bit of a plus for her as she never had to nag for me to tidy it or even go clean it, 'cos I automatically took that job on.
Yeah it's really annoying, these days I usually end up arranging stuff right before I leave the house and end up being late because of it. Right before I leave the house I'll think 'Ooh I'll just tidy the coffee table', 40 mins later I've tidied the coffee table, put the rubbish in the wheelie bin and a variety of other small tasks. Its amusing but causes me no end of problems with time management.
I did the arranging stuff too. And that's never changed. As much as I adore my son, I was completely useless at the "Mummy, can you play with me?" business. Given a pile of play people knights and kit, all I could do was sort them out, so all the right knights had all the right kit and were nicely lined up. To quote my son: "Mummy, you're no fun". Ahhh well...
My mum often told me that when I was young I would sit on the floor and arrange all my toys in a semi circle around me. I still do this today, but the toys have been replaced by a laptop, cup of coffee, cigarettes, phone and whatever else I happen to need nearby.
When I was a child I would hum the theme tune to my favourite TV shows while banging my head against my pillow to get to sleep, it took years of practice to unlearn that habit. These days I just think myself to sleep.
I was at the park with my mum once, and mistook a dead, stiff, leaf that had fallen on the back of my hand as some kind of insect that was attacking me. The points of the leaf that were touching my hand felt painful. Screamed and ran to my mum. She didn't understand.
Oh Yeah! I have memories from babyhood.
The entirety of my first day at school is crystal clear in my mind and absolutely screaming autism from beginning to end. My aunt had promised me they'd teach me to read and write at school and I was so excited about going. In my head, from the TV images I'd seen, I imagined rows of tidy desks with lifty up lids and an ink well, facing a chalk board and that I would come home able to read the books I loved.
Well, what a disappointment! First of all, my mother wanted to walk me to school. "Why?" I asked. "I know the way". My mother was completely superfluous to requirement and interfering in my independence - errrr, yeah, I was four.
When I got there, there were no desks! Two lads were running around the middle of the class room, some others were ferreting in a dressing up box and some others had play dough? What? How could this be school? I sat there completely and totally disappointed and bewildered and spoke to no one and did nothing. When was someone going to give me a book?
Then it was playtime, and I was instructed to put on my coat and go outside. Why? I didn't like that. There was an older boy wandering about on his own in a duffle coat and a very scholarly looking scarf. The scarf fascinated me. It was a proper school scarf. I followed him around a bit transfixed by the scarf. He eventually got fed up with that and pointed out some little girls my own age and suggested I go play with them. I didn't want to, I didn't understand what they were doing and it didn't look very interesting. So I hung about on my own in the cold until were let in doors again.
Then there was lunch time....and it stank and the texture was vile! To the point of making me want to vomit. I didn't eat a thing. that day triggered eating problems right through the rest of my childhood.
In the afternoon, there was more of the same and a teacher finally insisting that I do something with play dough - I rolled it about aimlessly for a bit next to a girl with a blue cardigan.
Then to top it all, my mother not only thought she should take me to school, but was there to pick me up again. Why? I was proper irritated by that!
Now, I know my memories are absolutely correct as 50 odd years on when I spoke to my mother prior to my assessment she quoted back verbatum, exactly the words I remember saying to her when asked how my day had been: "they didn't teach me to read and there were no desks, only tables and the children were playing with toys. Well, I've got toys at home. I went to school to read"
Oh dear, how many indicators in that one day, lol?
Well I used to line all of my toys cars, which I loved, in a long line. I never did anything with them but putting them in a line felt nice. And then apparently when I ran out of cars I put other things at the end of the line - vases, ornaments, etc.
