I'm a 30-year-old woman. For as long as I can remember, I've felt different/off/as if I'm living life on hard mode in some ways and easy mode in other ways. Recently, I've started wondering about autism. So much seems to fit (e.g., I seem to have a very overactive sensory system – I have misophonia, misokinesia, lexical-gustatory synaesthesia, visual snow, sensitivity to food textures), but the social piece gives me pause.
As an adult, I'm good at socialising insofar as people tend to like me and find me warm, kind, and socially competent (albeit a bit eccentric). I often overshare and talk too much about myself, but I know that I'm doing it and try to curb it. I often find socialising draining, especially with people I don't know well, and I find the process of texting and writing emails tiring. However, I have 10–15 friends (a few of whom are close friends) and enjoy socialising with them.
As a child (age 12 and younger), I was less socially successful. I spent many lunchtimes reading rather than interacting with other kids (my teachers actually expressed concern about this to my mother), often preferred adult company, and was consistently described as shy, quiet, and reserved. I don't recall ever struggling to understand social rules; as far as I can remember, I've always found people easy to read, never struggled with eye contact, never struggled with taking things too literally or not understanding jokes, etc. Rather, I had different interests and didn't feel motivated to join in with the other kids (and sometimes the other kids made me anxious). I had a best friend and did 'normal' things with her – sleepovers, watching films, hanging out at the park, etc. When I got to secondary school, I found the environment overwhelming and scary, and I got the sense that my peers thought I was odd. I had a very, very active imagination: I used to spend hours walking in circles on the schoolyard/around my parents' living room or walking laps around the housing estate my parents lived on, listening to music and imagining scenarios. (I still do that now, actually – if I'm not actively engaged in something that usurps my attention, I'm daydreaming.) I was also pretty clever: by the age of 12, I'd written at two or three novella-length pieces of creative writing.
I'm not sure whether the social piece rules out autism or whether it's worth my exploring this further.
