I don't feel high-functioning.
I know that sentence makes zero sense out of context, but somehow, that's the only way I could begin this post. The one sentence that keeps on parading through my mind whenever I think about my Autism Spectrum Disorder. I don't feel high-functioning. Most people would probably be surprised to hear that I'm on the spectrum in the first place. It's really easy to assume that I must not be that autistic, because when you see me I don't act all that weird (or, if I do, people have been too polite to tell me so). But you can't see what goes on inside my head. You don't see just how hard I have to fight to pull off "mostly normal." You don't see how many little challenges I have to grapple with every single minute of my life. And, if I'm being honest, sometimes I wish I didn't notice either. Sometimes I wish that I could keep on believing that there's nothing different about me. But in the past that ignorance has caused me nothing but heartache. So I must do what I can to face this all head-on. I have a disability. And it's... well... disabling.
Imagine for a moment that you're in the kitchen for a snack, and instead of simply thinking to yourself, That looks good, I'll eat that, you're thinking something more along the lines of, I know I should eat something with protein, but I can already feel the grease in my mouth just looking at that hamburger. I like the texture of that salad just fine, but it might be a little too bitter for me to take right now. I could make some soup, but it's such a hassle to get it cooled down enough that it doesn't burn my mouth. What I really want is ice cream, but I've had that a lot lately, and, besides that, too cold is also overwhelming. Sadly, I'm not exaggerating -there are days I can choose something and eat it without having to analyze it too closely, but there are others when I have to have a fifteen-minute debate with myself over what to eat. And that's really just one example of how the sensory processing disorder that comes with my ASD can make my life difficult. If I'm in a crowded room with a lot going on, hearing all those noises at once can make me feel as if someone put my brain in a jar, shook it for a while, then put my brain back into my skull. Basically, I experience sounds, visuals and sensations way more intensely than average, and it can make the world tricky to navigate. If you see me trying to move through a crowd and I can't seem to walk in a straight line, it's probably because I'm so overwhelmed with seeing all the movement and hearing all the little sounds that it can be hard to keep myself moving in the right direction.
Because I have such a hard time with everyday things, such as doing chores (have you ever tried doing the dishes when you can feel the grease in really high definition? It's not much fun), or even moving my body (sometimes my body feels more like an itchy, too-big sweater than an extension of myself), I've always thought of myself as being incompetent. Always thought that something must be seriously wrong with me because the things I should be doing can just be too hard to handle. A person who hates to do chores must be lazy, I thought. I must not be very self-disciplined if I can't make myself eat healthy foods (there are, in fact, healthy foods that don't set me off, but for some reason I find those hard to find). I must be stupid if I can't figure out if that person is being sarcastic or not. I must not be good at being an adult if I can't hold down a full-time job.
Here's the thing: I was wrong to think that way about myself. I'll write it again, just because it's so important. I was wrong to think that way about myself. I was never lazy. I was never undisciplined. I was never stupid. It was never my fault that I find it hard to adult. I'm not incompetent - I have to work harder, smarter, and more slowly in order to accomplish things that other people find simple. Meaning that I have to be that much stronger to outwardly function. And, somehow, in spite of all the overwhelming challenges, I've almost managed to do it. I've only recently begun to understand my disability. I don't think I've fully accepted it yet. But I'm determined that I will learn to work with it. I will learn to accept myself as I am.
If you think there's something wrong with you, and you're reading this now, please listen: You need to be kinder to yourself. If you behave strangely, there's probably a good reason. It might be a disability. It might be that you're experiencing a hard time in your life, and you're too overwhelmed to handle it as well as you want. Or you might have a completely different kind of challenge that you may or may not ever be able to fully understand. But nothing's wrong with you. There might be a therapy, a med, or a lifestyle change that will help you, but that doesn't mean you're broken. It means that you need to live a little differently than you expected. And that's okay - this world would be awfully boring if every person had the same needs and the same way of living as everyone else.Give yourself permission to be "weird."
I know I spoke about why my life is difficult, but let me add this thought: there have been payoffs. I don't even know how to explain it, but there are times in my life when I can't help but feel that all my struggles have been worth it to get to this. Somehow, the very strangeness of my life and my perspective gives me a a warm feeling right in my heart, as if to say, "This is right. I never would have been happy with an ordinary life."
I know that I still have an uphill struggle ahead, but I'm choosing to do what I can to love myself, the crazy journey, and even those moments that are really hard. I know that I'll still have plenty of moments when I'm screaming with frustration on the inside, but I'm feeling hopeful when I think about my future.
I can overcome my need to beat myself up. And I hope that you realize that you can learn to be kinder to yourself too.
I know that sentence makes zero sense out of context, but somehow, that's the only way I could begin this post. The one sentence that keeps on parading through my mind whenever I think about my Autism Spectrum Disorder. I don't feel high-functioning. Most people would probably be surprised to hear that I'm on the spectrum in the first place. It's really easy to assume that I must not be that autistic, because when you see me I don't act all that weird (or, if I do, people have been too polite to tell me so). But you can't see what goes on inside my head. You don't see just how hard I have to fight to pull off "mostly normal." You don't see how many little challenges I have to grapple with every single minute of my life. And, if I'm being honest, sometimes I wish I didn't notice either. Sometimes I wish that I could keep on believing that there's nothing different about me. But in the past that ignorance has caused me nothing but heartache. So I must do what I can to face this all head-on. I have a disability. And it's... well... disabling.
Imagine for a moment that you're in the kitchen for a snack, and instead of simply thinking to yourself, That looks good, I'll eat that, you're thinking something more along the lines of, I know I should eat something with protein, but I can already feel the grease in my mouth just looking at that hamburger. I like the texture of that salad just fine, but it might be a little too bitter for me to take right now. I could make some soup, but it's such a hassle to get it cooled down enough that it doesn't burn my mouth. What I really want is ice cream, but I've had that a lot lately, and, besides that, too cold is also overwhelming. Sadly, I'm not exaggerating -there are days I can choose something and eat it without having to analyze it too closely, but there are others when I have to have a fifteen-minute debate with myself over what to eat. And that's really just one example of how the sensory processing disorder that comes with my ASD can make my life difficult. If I'm in a crowded room with a lot going on, hearing all those noises at once can make me feel as if someone put my brain in a jar, shook it for a while, then put my brain back into my skull. Basically, I experience sounds, visuals and sensations way more intensely than average, and it can make the world tricky to navigate. If you see me trying to move through a crowd and I can't seem to walk in a straight line, it's probably because I'm so overwhelmed with seeing all the movement and hearing all the little sounds that it can be hard to keep myself moving in the right direction.
Because I have such a hard time with everyday things, such as doing chores (have you ever tried doing the dishes when you can feel the grease in really high definition? It's not much fun), or even moving my body (sometimes my body feels more like an itchy, too-big sweater than an extension of myself), I've always thought of myself as being incompetent. Always thought that something must be seriously wrong with me because the things I should be doing can just be too hard to handle. A person who hates to do chores must be lazy, I thought. I must not be very self-disciplined if I can't make myself eat healthy foods (there are, in fact, healthy foods that don't set me off, but for some reason I find those hard to find). I must be stupid if I can't figure out if that person is being sarcastic or not. I must not be good at being an adult if I can't hold down a full-time job.
Here's the thing: I was wrong to think that way about myself. I'll write it again, just because it's so important. I was wrong to think that way about myself. I was never lazy. I was never undisciplined. I was never stupid. It was never my fault that I find it hard to adult. I'm not incompetent - I have to work harder, smarter, and more slowly in order to accomplish things that other people find simple. Meaning that I have to be that much stronger to outwardly function. And, somehow, in spite of all the overwhelming challenges, I've almost managed to do it. I've only recently begun to understand my disability. I don't think I've fully accepted it yet. But I'm determined that I will learn to work with it. I will learn to accept myself as I am.
If you think there's something wrong with you, and you're reading this now, please listen: You need to be kinder to yourself. If you behave strangely, there's probably a good reason. It might be a disability. It might be that you're experiencing a hard time in your life, and you're too overwhelmed to handle it as well as you want. Or you might have a completely different kind of challenge that you may or may not ever be able to fully understand. But nothing's wrong with you. There might be a therapy, a med, or a lifestyle change that will help you, but that doesn't mean you're broken. It means that you need to live a little differently than you expected. And that's okay - this world would be awfully boring if every person had the same needs and the same way of living as everyone else.Give yourself permission to be "weird."
I know I spoke about why my life is difficult, but let me add this thought: there have been payoffs. I don't even know how to explain it, but there are times in my life when I can't help but feel that all my struggles have been worth it to get to this. Somehow, the very strangeness of my life and my perspective gives me a a warm feeling right in my heart, as if to say, "This is right. I never would have been happy with an ordinary life."
I know that I still have an uphill struggle ahead, but I'm choosing to do what I can to love myself, the crazy journey, and even those moments that are really hard. I know that I'll still have plenty of moments when I'm screaming with frustration on the inside, but I'm feeling hopeful when I think about my future.
I can overcome my need to beat myself up. And I hope that you realize that you can learn to be kinder to yourself too.
