Late Diagnosed Autistic - Tumblr Posts
Me, the neurodivergent child: *asks a lot of questions because something doesn’t make sense to them*
My neurodivergent mom: *freaking out internally because since I'm her child she has to answer me*
neurodivergent child: *asks a lot of questions because something doesn’t make sense to them*
parent: why are you arguing with me.
hmmm listening to that stellar firma episode where they’re all panicking trying to figure out why David is different is a very 💖interesting💖experience when you’re a late diagnosed autistic
is anyone else who’s autistic not have trouble reading social ques but like you feel like you should same thing with like expressions and stuff and me portraying them like i feel as if i’m a very expressive person? like i’m a blunt person and will tell you what i’m thinking but like i’m aware it could make you upset and get why it could but i’m not saying it to be mean i’m just saying it cause it’s true. like maybe i’m just an asš of a person or something? like maybe it’s not adhd + asd + ocd maybe it’s just adhd + ocd and i’m making myself think it’s also asd?
basically do y’all ever just feel like your not “autistic enough” or that maybe your “just faking it” . or being “intentionally difficult”
I never had any issues about knowing myself 'cause my whole family and every kind of environment crushed me by being myself, which means I was forced into knowing every inch of myself to recognize what exactly about me was seen as "wrong" by them
The ‘eccentric’ pleasure to have in class child to strong willed, mentally ill teenager to diagnosed autistic…
Neurodivergent_lou
I’m watching the Percy Jackson series and I just…. I needed this so badly. My inner, undiagnosed autistic child needed this story. I spent the first twenty years of my life feeling like Percy. Wondering what was wrong with me, not understanding why the world felt so foreign and strange when everyone around me functioned fine. I saw Chimeras and Pegasi where others saw dump trucks. Little by little, that light was dimmed until it almost extinguished completely. It wasn’t until one very special person finally connected with me and understood how I see the world. She told me I was autistic and the world was beautiful again. Ever since then, I’ve been on a mission to find more people like me and bring them to camp, so to speak. I want every autistic person to know they are not broken, they are singular, and they are a miracle.
SPOILER FOR EPISODE 7!!!!
Sally and Poseidon’s conversation in the restaurant brought me to tears. I’ve been there. My own parents struggled through twenty years of wondering how to help me, what the best treatment would be, and wondering if I could lead a normal, happy life. Unlike Sally and Poseidon, we didn’t have an answer. My parents weren’t keeping my autism from me, we didn’t know it existed. I wish we’d had somewhere like Camp Half-Blood where I could learn about my identity and own it before my light came dangerously close to going out. Identity is so vitally important to Neurodivergent young people. It does not limit us, shame us, or hold us back. It does not render us to a life of solitude or “otherness.” It binds us to a community of people who see the Chimeras and Pegasi. It’s our ticket to Camp, and it sets us free.
(This is also my long way of saying diagnosis saves lives and should be more accessible to everyone)
An excerpt from a Fic I wrote a while ago centering on Autistic!Mike. I wrote it from my perspective as a late-diagnosed female who found euphoria and purpose from this one little word. I hope you take the time to read it and understand the life-changing power of diagnosis. Autism is not a tragedy. Rather, it is a difference in the Human Condition that deserves celebration.
"Hey…Will, I almost forgot. I need to tell you something important". Will immediately flinches awake and startles, scanning the room for threats.
"What? Is something wrong? Are you okay?"
"No, nothing's wrong," Mike assures him, running his hand down Will's cheek. Embarrassment and shame course through him. He wishes Will’s nervous system didn’t overreact this way. He speaks quietly and clearly, emphasizing his words. "I'm okay. We’re safe.” Will leans into Mike’s touch and anchors himself in the present. He is safe, Mike is safe, and they are together. His eyes slip closed as he takes a few steadying breaths. He then shifts to his side to see Mike better, turning on the small lamp on the nightstand and propping himself up on his elbow. Mike looks anxious. Tears prick the corners of his eyes as he stares at the ceiling. Will places his hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
"Hey, whatever it is, you can tell me, okay?” he reassures Mike. “I won't be mad. We'll work through it together. You know how much I love you.” Will's words ease Mike's anxiety. Here goes nothing.
"I talk to Robin a lot–just like you–but we don't just talk about boyfriends. We…we talk about…other things, too.”
"What kinds of other things?" Will probes. Mike swallows hard.
"We…we talk about…fuck, this is tough….about my…my brain.” He can't believe he said it. Will is even more confused. His brain? What about his brain? The last time he checked, Mike's brain was perfect. Why does this involve Robin? Mike cannot make eye contact. Will eyes stare directly into his soul. If he looks back, he will lose his sanity. His hands white knuckle the sheets–anything to ground himself.
"My brain is…different from most people's.” Mike’s not sure how to explain this without sounding completely insane. “I have difficulty connecting with people and holding on to relationships. I'm blunt and straightforward, and people think I'm rude. That's why making friends is hard for me. People don't understand how to interact with me.” The words are slow and halted, forced out like a reluctant child. Will hangs on every one. He has yet to see the whole picture but will keep listening until he does. Mike continues as bile creeps into his throat.
"I also struggle with change. I need routine and structure; it keeps me safe. When that structure changes, it takes me longer to adjust. Like when you and El moved away, or Max joined our Party.” Words come faster now. He’s held this pain inside for too long. “I don't understand why things change and how everyone moves on while I'm stuck in this perpetual loop. I get scared that everything will change because one thing is changing, and it’s too much to handle. I don't want to be hostile, but my brain tells me to protect myself. Routines also help me not feel overwhelmed by the world. Everything is loud…and bright…and fast. It's terrifying.” Tears spill out, emotions too much to contain. “If I stick to my routine, some of that stuff fades into the background. But as soon as it changes, that all comes rushing back in. My body shuts down, and I can’t stop it. I lose control, and it's scary, Will. It's…It's so scary!"
Mike breaks down and rolls into his boyfriend’s waiting arms. Will is dumbfounded. He had no idea. How has Mike survived this long? He rubs deep circles into Mike’s back, attempting to ground him. He wishes Mike had told him sooner. He would have helped him through it, been there for him when it was all too much. How did he miss it? Something so central to Mike's being unknown to the people he loves most. Will's mind drifts back to their childhoods when Mike would fall apart on the floor. Will would hold and rock him until he calmed down–not dissimilarly to what he did last week at the hospital. Then it clicks. Mike is describing those moments. Nights spent on the kitchen floor crying over a scratchy shirt tag or "wrong foods" touching. He got angry because Will canceled plans they made a week ago, even though his PTSD flared up and he was too weak to go out. His head swirles with examples, and each one makes more sense than the last. He holds Mike's face, wiping tears with his thumbs.
"Mike, I understand. I see how scary those moments are for you. I may not feel what you feel, but I see your pain, and that’s enough. You are not broken, and there is nothing wrong with you. Do you understand me?" Mike tearfully nods. "I love you so much, and I am honored that you feel safe enough to share this part of yourself with me. I will always be here to help you, just like you help me. We need each other, and I am so thankful to have you in my life. I do have a question, though. Is there a name for this, and why do you discuss it with Robin? Isn't that something a doctor tells you?"
Mike laughs at Will's innocent questions. "You should talk about it with a doctor, but most don't know much about it. It's called autism, and I talk about it with Robin because she has it, too. She's the one who saw it in me. The first time she explained it…I cried, Will. I had never heard a word describe me so perfectly.” As he remembers the moment, new tears form, and a smile radiates through his body. “It was like…I had a missing piece, and Robin found it. She unlocked me. I finally have permission to be myself. All of these struggles, all of this pain, it's real. It has a name. I've never felt this way, and I want you to know so you can feel it, too. I love you so much, Will.” Autism. Will rolls the word around in his mind. He's never heard it before, but it makes sense. It explains Mike. His bluntness, his temper, his everything. He pulls Mike close and hugs him tightly, tears mingling in their embrace as they celebrate the moment. It is not sad. Instead, it is euphoric.
Me: Oh yeah? Well could an autistic person do this?!
Me: Delivers an unprompted 45 minute seminar on the political, philosophical and poetic significance of bees in ancient literature with a special emphasise on their significance in Rome during the period from the death of Caesar to early Augustan Rome - pausing to point out how contentious the term “Augustan” is in this context.
My Friends: Yeah…yeah, I’m pretty sure like only autistic people can do that buddy.
Does anyone have tips how to deal with overstimulation and feeling like everything hurts, I would appreciate guides,blogs or honestly just adivice how to treat yourself better in those situations
I've got the coolest and punkiest pin ever.
But I am not sure to wear it at work. 'Cause they still didn't know...
Feel it. so much. it still hurts.
Autism and tactlessness
I don't know if this is part of the general autistic experience or is more specific to people who grew undiagnosed — I can only speak for myself — but something that really bothers me and makes social situations far more exhaustive than I think they could be, is policing everything I say.
I was diagnosed with ASD after adulthood, but I didn't need a paper to see, throughout my whole life, that I struggled and suffer the effects from it. And one thing is that I am aware, as my loved ones like to point out, that I am "tactless" a lot of the times, which can mean I don't realize when I'm being rude, annoying or inconvenient, specially when I can't understand why that'd be.
Because of that, I was often corrected while growing up. Things that I said that were plainly honest, spontaneous or curious were pointed out as bad, usually without a good explanation on why it was bad, just that it was. After that, I'd usually be punished in a way or another, being not getting an explanation, receiving silent treatment and being ignored, having people mad at me, shouting at me, blaming me for a myriad of things or accusing me of things, laughing at me. All that came off as a punishment for being and talking the way I was.
Years ahead, now that I am an adult, I realized I learned something. Instead of learning why saying certain things is bad, I learned to be scared of what I say. I feel tense and constantly try to analyze what I'm gonna say even when that is meaningless because I can't find what could be bad about it in my memories. If I get too relaxed and let the words slip away, I get anxious I might've offended someone. I'm constantly scared to be offensive and be punished again.
That also means I am always scared of being abandoned by the people I love, and my first assumption will always be that I did something offensive without realizing. I know I'm an overall grumpy person, but I tend to be scared of people when they're mad, I tend to get anxious that they'll never want to talk to me again and I'll be alone.
I am exhausted of fights that I don't understand why even happen. Of not understanding why people get mad at me. Of feeling rejected by people I trusted and loved. Of overanalyzing everything I say and still being scared of going through all that again.
Disclaimer: I am one autistic person, late diagnosed and mid-low support needs, talking about my experiences and opinions that I believe are related to autism. I do not speak for other autistic people, only for myself.
When I was little I didn’t want to play with makeup and nail polish. People brushed it off because I was a bit of a tomboyish child and “it’s just a phase”.
Turns out it was actually due to autism and sensory issues.
One of the reasons it took me so long to be diagnosed is because both of my parents are neurodivergent (kinda).
My mom is diagnosed with attention deficit disorder. My dad is the reason I say kinda, I’m not sure what he has since he doesn’t like to talk about it but it involves tics and he suffers from pretty bad motion sickness as well.
In their eyes I was never a weirdo, they always saw me as a regular child, even when the people outside my home started thinking I was weird. I wasn’t any weirder than they were so it wasn’t a problem.
They blame themselves a lot for not realizing it sooner, but I’m thankful that at least at my home, I wasn’t seen as an anomaly.
Would love if any late diagnosis autistic/neurodivergent peeps could help me out. Since I am old enough that I discovered my neurodivergence on my own, how do I now approach the topic with my family/friends? I want them to understand why I am the way I am but I know that their idea of what neurodivergence looks like is not a good or accurate one and I feel like if I tell them they aren’t going to believe me and instead say I’m being brainwashed. Idk
Some handspun glitter yarn I made. This is before plying it together to make it thicker and stronger!
Currently it's being knit up as part of a holiday sweater that I've been piecing together on and off. I will be so happy to share it when it's done and I can cozy up in it! I lost some steam, but the thought of having a colorful sweater that sparkles underneath twinkling holiday lights is so enchanting, I'm holding on to that for motivation.
Some handspun glitter yarn I made. This is before plying it together to make it thicker and stronger!
Currently it's being knit up as part of a holiday sweater that I've been piecing together on and off. I will be so happy to share it when it's done and I can cozy up in it! I lost some steam, but the thought of having a colorful sweater that sparkles underneath twinkling holiday lights is so enchanting, I'm holding on to that for motivation.
Some handspun glitter yarn I made. This is before plying it together to make it thicker and stronger!
Currently it's being knit up as part of a holiday sweater that I've been piecing together on and off. I will be so happy to share it when it's done and I can cozy up in it! I lost some steam, but the thought of having a colorful sweater that sparkles underneath twinkling holiday lights is so enchanting, I'm holding on to that for motivation.
Some handspun glitter yarn I made. This is before plying it together to make it thicker and stronger!
Currently it's being knit up as part of a holiday sweater that I've been piecing together on and off. I will be so happy to share it when it's done and I can cozy up in it! I lost some steam, but the thought of having a colorful sweater that sparkles underneath twinkling holiday lights is so enchanting, I'm holding on to that for motivation.
Some handspun glitter yarn I made. This is before plying it together to make it thicker and stronger!
Currently it's being knit up as part of a holiday sweater that I've been piecing together on and off. I will be so happy to share it when it's done and I can cozy up in it! I lost some steam, but the thought of having a colorful sweater that sparkles underneath twinkling holiday lights is so enchanting, I'm holding on to that for motivation.
being autistic on the internet is so impossible like. every time i think i know the rules i learn something new.
liking a post is good. liking too many posts in a row is... bad? and annoying. reblogging a post is better than liking it. some people seem to believe that liking without reblogging is unappreciative, and therefore rude. however, never reblog too many posts at a time, followers don’t like seeing too much of you. instead, you should post regularly but not often. adding on to a person’s post is good; BUT, if they don’t like the addition for some reason it’s now considered (again) rude. it’s generally considered safe to instead put your thoughts in the tags, and most people seem to like it, but some people also apparently find that annoying?
how am i supposed to show my appreciation without being annoying or rude?? this is a literal question, i literally do not understand. because i fucking love fandom and i want everyone to feel appreciated but i feel like everything i do is wrong.