Autism In Women - Tumblr Posts

This makes me feel so much better. I only recently suspected that I might be autistic after a lot of research. I can't get a formal diagnosis because my parents don't believe that can be their kid. And they don't trust mental health professionals either, even though I've made it clear I would like to see a therapist/professional.

I don't think a lot of people realize what self diagnosis is or why it's so important.

A lot of neurodivergent people can't access a formal diagnosis. Some people can't afford it (that feels so fucked up to say... Why is medicine something we have to *afford?*). Some people can't find a doctor in their area who can diagnose them. Some people are living with family members who won't let them see a doctor or get diagnosed. And the medical system is infamous for its prejudice against women, people of color, the lower class... Especially in regards to disabilities that aren't always clearly visible, where patients can easily be written off as lairs about their own health.

These are people who have spent their entire lives struggling with things that come naturally to everyone else. For the longest time, they didn't understand why nobody else feels like screaming when the lights in the store are too bright, or why everybody seems to love communicating with secret body languages or hidden messages, or how other people can keep up with keeping the house tidy and taking care of their health and maintaining jobs and relationships when all that stuff is so complicated and exhausting.

One day, they happen to come across an autistic person discussing their experiences, and they relate to it a lot more than they feel they should have. "That's not an autistic thing, right? Doesn't everyone do that?"

Then it clicks. Maybe it is an autistic thing. And maybe they're autistic.

So these people spend a long time reading about autism to find out, "Is this what's going on? Is this why I'm struggling?" They take their past and hold it up to the light, studying it more than anyone else has cared to do before.

The voice of doubt in their head, and maybe those around them, insist, "No, you're faking it for attention. You don't look autistic. You don't deserve help. Stop pretending."

But they can't forget. All of the things that happened before, all the stress and fear and sadness they've experienced suddenly begin to make sense.

Finally, they realize: "I'm not just too stupid to understand people. I'm not just too whiny about the noise and the lights around me. I'm not just too stubborn to let go of routines. I'm not just too impatient to stop fidgeting. I'm autistic."

They might seek a doctor to confirm. They might not. Getting a formal diagnosis is incredibly difficult for many people. But ultimately, the point of self diagnosis isn't to get other people to acknowledge that they're autistic. It's for their own benefit. Now that they know they're autistic, they can start looking for ways to make their life easier, to accommodate for themselves when nobody else will. Knowing what your needs are is the first step towards fulfilling them.

Sure, there might be people who fake things for attention or think they're neurodivergent when they're not. But I think it's better to trust someone about what's going on in their own mind and give them support than to assume that they're just diagnosing themselves for fun or to harm neurodivergent people. It's better to risk helping someone who doesn't actually need it than to not help someone who actually does.

For me, personally, the main reasons I'm pretty sure I'm autistic are A) I have autistic family members, some who are formally diagnosed, and autism tends to run in families, and B) I have a lot of the characteristics of autism such as strange sensory needs (especially regarding clothes and other physical textures), strong need for routine and predictability, stimming, special interests I'd pour my life and soul into, and an inability to read weird allistic social cues. But I don't have a formal diagnosis. I currently live in the US and can't afford to go through the medical system. Even if I could, I'm AFAB and might be denied diagnosis on the basis of my sex. And even if I weren't, I live in rural Nowhere-ville and the nearest doctor who could legally diagnose me is several hours away.

I need people to understand: I didn't decide to call myself autistic for shits and giggles. I didn't just go, "Ooh, autism looks fun and quirky, I wanna be that!" I have good reason to believe I am actually autistic, but I currently can't get a formal diagnosis. I'm not a "fake autistic" just because I can't currently get a doctor to look at me and go, "Yup, that's autism" and give me the doctor's note.

“I am clumsy in my own limbs. My knees buckle and ankles give out; I watch my fingers spasm and release what was held once so confidently in my grasp. I realize no one passes me the infants. I look at my shaking fingers and pulsing legs and realize my body was not made for this. In knowing this comes the knowledge that neither is my mind. I wonder how I got here, anyway, in a room of people whose eyes avoid my figure, whose conversations don’t extend to me. I look at the only other person who seems as out of focus as I am. I wonder what it’s like to hold a baby. I remember what it was like before; or at least I try. The problem is that is feels like i’ve always been forgetting to take my pills, always wearing braces on my body always looking confused into a world not built for me. I remember when I trusted the bones that house me; before they, too, creaked and caved and exposed me to the world when they crumbled. I try to remember my sport, my strength. I don’t have to try to remember the look in my PT’s face when I, again, took a first step. A wave of nausea comes over me and I dismiss myself. I make my apologies and excuses, my promise of next time and I take my exit. I glance back when i’m out of the room and watch their shoulders fall. I go to my bed.”

-What The Cold Does Aik.