Alex_Canti
Member
My name is Alejandro. I was never diagnosed. As a child, I was a late talker, and since my motor coordination was also below other kids', they decided I should repeat the first year of school. Years later, an aunt let it sleep that back then, everyone in my family agreed I was mentally challenged. When I was 4, I learned how to read on my own by picking up a book my sister used to read out loud. Then I surprised my teacher by reading it to other kids. She first assumed my parents had put me up to it and tested me with other material. She then talked to my mom and recommended that I should skip a year (the irony). Turns out I'm not a genius either tho, because later I'll have trouble learning how to write (my handwriting is still horrible to this day) and staying focused.
In general, I had to voluntarily learn stuff that other people just pick up, like moving my arms when I walk; laughing and celebrating things, etc. Each time, someone would point out that I'm doing this or that in a weird way, and I would go ahead and try to learn it. By "point out" I mean bully the hell out of me, of course. Teenage years were a nightmare, I was psychologically and physically abused all the time, but I never told my parents a damn thing because my dad was a really tough guy and I didn't want him to know I was weak.
Anyway, at some point in high school I sort of learned how to take care of myself. I became very good at pretending I was like other people and mostly got away with it. Got a girlfriend, got into a great University. But unfortunately, I couldn't keep that up for too long.
First year of Uni, failed 8 out of 10 courses. Stopped exercising, ate sporadically, slowly slipped back into my old nasty self. Became paranoid thinking that everyone talks about me all the time and plot things against me. Smoked a lot of weed and did other drugs, which made the paranoia a lot worse. Broke up with my gf, dropped out of school, moved back in with my mom. Applied for another school, wasn't accepted. Discovered I was slowly losing my hearing for unknown reasons. The following 6 months are not even worth mentioning.
Eventually I was able to go back to college. My mental health got progressively worse, I've struggled with depression, paranoia, been on and off medication. Some semesters I did well, others I failed/dropped courses. My parents supported me through all of it as I wasn't able to find/keep a job.
In spite of all of this, for the last year I've been improving. I met a really nice girl who's been helping me. She convinced me to get professional help again and I'm currently being treated for psychosis and depression. I've also started taking care of myself again, exercising often and getting enough sleep. My grades improved and I will be done with school in December. I'm also getting help from an NGO that connects vulnerable/disabled people with employers. I got an informal job and I've had a couple interviews for a real, full-time job. I'm confident about it.
Why I've joined this forum, I'm not sure. Last night I was feeling moody and drowsy from Quetiapine and started reading other people's posts here, hoping to find experiences similar to mine. Then I wrote the previous paragraphs until I fell asleep. This morning I gave up posting it, but later decided to do it anyway. I'm considering getting a formal diagnostic of autism, even though I'm not sure it will make any difference in my life. Maybe I will mention it to my psychiatrist.
In general, I had to voluntarily learn stuff that other people just pick up, like moving my arms when I walk; laughing and celebrating things, etc. Each time, someone would point out that I'm doing this or that in a weird way, and I would go ahead and try to learn it. By "point out" I mean bully the hell out of me, of course. Teenage years were a nightmare, I was psychologically and physically abused all the time, but I never told my parents a damn thing because my dad was a really tough guy and I didn't want him to know I was weak.
Anyway, at some point in high school I sort of learned how to take care of myself. I became very good at pretending I was like other people and mostly got away with it. Got a girlfriend, got into a great University. But unfortunately, I couldn't keep that up for too long.
First year of Uni, failed 8 out of 10 courses. Stopped exercising, ate sporadically, slowly slipped back into my old nasty self. Became paranoid thinking that everyone talks about me all the time and plot things against me. Smoked a lot of weed and did other drugs, which made the paranoia a lot worse. Broke up with my gf, dropped out of school, moved back in with my mom. Applied for another school, wasn't accepted. Discovered I was slowly losing my hearing for unknown reasons. The following 6 months are not even worth mentioning.
Eventually I was able to go back to college. My mental health got progressively worse, I've struggled with depression, paranoia, been on and off medication. Some semesters I did well, others I failed/dropped courses. My parents supported me through all of it as I wasn't able to find/keep a job.
In spite of all of this, for the last year I've been improving. I met a really nice girl who's been helping me. She convinced me to get professional help again and I'm currently being treated for psychosis and depression. I've also started taking care of myself again, exercising often and getting enough sleep. My grades improved and I will be done with school in December. I'm also getting help from an NGO that connects vulnerable/disabled people with employers. I got an informal job and I've had a couple interviews for a real, full-time job. I'm confident about it.
Why I've joined this forum, I'm not sure. Last night I was feeling moody and drowsy from Quetiapine and started reading other people's posts here, hoping to find experiences similar to mine. Then I wrote the previous paragraphs until I fell asleep. This morning I gave up posting it, but later decided to do it anyway. I'm considering getting a formal diagnostic of autism, even though I'm not sure it will make any difference in my life. Maybe I will mention it to my psychiatrist.
