Ok ...big question that will require a long-winded reply ...
Having had a very unconventional and chaotic childhood, it took me a long while to peel back the many layers of my "difference" and the troubles incurred, as a result.
I left my parents, in deep despair, as a 16 year old, extremely traumatized and alexithymic, situationally-mute female child-woman.
Reading had gotten me through my childhood, but had not given me the communicative or emotional regulation to communicate my needs to my already overloaded parents, And in an alcoholic haze, I bed-hopped my way to a psychedelic culture in the most easterly and northern part of New South Wales.I don't even want to go into the abuse and horror and exploitation of my journey ...so let me continue
Incurring much more trauma, as a result of said Autism, or "AuDHD" and the extreme lack of social sav, I found myself involved, and quickly pregnant to, a political and very fringe lead singer/songwiter/guilarist, who wrote songs I thought indicated his moral uprightness and decency (see the literal thinking of your classic Aspie Autist).
As it turned out, I missed ( as is in ignorant, inattentive and clueless, not longing for) the narcissism and criminal nature of the object of my attention, and subsequent co-parent of my/our seven children.
You may be wondering, why seven children? Surely that would be waay too overstimulating and demanding on one so neural-y and sensorally challenged? ...Well you know that thing, when an Austist do a thing? And then repeat that thing? Over and over again?
Well that's what I did, with having babies, plus my mum terrified me about birth control, and again, literalist thinking won the day .
Among those children, it turns out there was some Autism in the genetic mix. Second born son was the one with the most apparent dose of the Auties, complete with a intellectual disability, This posed a significant clue to my own recent diagnosis.
After many years of the musical stimming that enabled my development from near-mute to competent verbal communicator.
I had joined the musician baby Dada's band; thankfully the dramatic arts I had jumped at, in late primary and high school, had given me the prior stage experience that set me up to become a singer/dancer in his reggae band. It was the only option available, in order to learn how to communicate and I dance-stimmed my way to adulthood.
Reheasing songs is a lovely way for a autist to develop that brain-mind-voice connection, I might add, and is a stim that woks wonders, in oxytocin release, that adds to a much repaired endocrine system.
After a few thousand meltdowns and some major and breakdown burnouts, I left baby Dada in search for some support and in order to bring myself back from the brim of death, but not from sanity. That had long since fled the building, and yet, paradoxically, was remarkably intact. This is beyond the scope of my communicative abilities to explain.
I found a fellow AspAut, my current Significant other, and some years later, my family realised the, almost stereotypical, presentation of one of those "Little Professors" so eloquently and affectionately described by Hans Aspergers; That Little professor was my father.
After peeling back years of trauma, and many inadequate and/ or misdiagnosis' and missed symptoms, including an eating disorder that lasted until I was in my early thirties; I received "depression and anxiety" borderline personality disorder" and finally "complex ptsd" and had been extensively treated.
Recovery, although not complete, was significant, and yet somehow did not touch some deeper underlying issues I had always been experiencing.
I remembered how my mother always said "You're so like your Father" and so I decided to do some digging about Autism.
Sure enough after numerous online self tests, a tonne of research, and some soul searching, I began to grow in certainty, that THIS, was what explained the patterns of my difficulties, preoccupations and tendencies, and I approached my gp. Only to be told "Why would you want to spend all that money, to find out something you already know?
My situational mutism returned, and I could not find an answer for him.
6 years later, my executive function and burn out at new levels of severity, and my information addiction all consuming, my social life nonexistant, other that family members and my fellow NDerAspoid by my side, I reached out in desperation to the Austalian Autism website, a govey funded support and educational resource google suggested. They told me to apply for NDIS funding. Our wonderful and fortunate federal disability system. (Not perfect, but highly helpful if awarded) and I yielded to professional advice
So here I am, paying off the assessment for the NDIS application. A good deal I thought. Not long wait list, a nice snappy assessment, for the two in one ASD+ADHD (the ADHD revelation is for another story). A budget assessment for a bit over two grand. Two three to be exact. I was given the nod, by the assessor, after the online interview. He assured me I qualified for the dual diagnosis.
I didn't get an IQ test, but that was fine. I didn't want one of those. I've already done them in the past anyway.This is NOT a country you wanna emphasise your IQ in. Smart people are particularly unpopular, here, for the most part. Especially ones who don't finish things (the ADHD showing its face here). No high school, no tertiary, no university degree finished, despite initial enthusiasm, no attention and much demand avoidance dominated; only my musical stimming, interest-led information acquisition, art, advocacy, care-giving and crafts and paradoxically slow-and-fast processing issues, I can maintain.
Social confidence and social tolerance as very poor these days. The internet is an Autists godsend, but I CANNOT deal with the outside world, at this point. Not without support. And the deepening processing issues and autistic inertia, don't even get me started.
Having had a very unconventional and chaotic childhood, it took me a long while to peel back the many layers of my "difference" and the troubles incurred, as a result.
I left my parents, in deep despair, as a 16 year old, extremely traumatized and alexithymic, situationally-mute female child-woman.
Reading had gotten me through my childhood, but had not given me the communicative or emotional regulation to communicate my needs to my already overloaded parents, And in an alcoholic haze, I bed-hopped my way to a psychedelic culture in the most easterly and northern part of New South Wales.I don't even want to go into the abuse and horror and exploitation of my journey ...so let me continue
Incurring much more trauma, as a result of said Autism, or "AuDHD" and the extreme lack of social sav, I found myself involved, and quickly pregnant to, a political and very fringe lead singer/songwiter/guilarist, who wrote songs I thought indicated his moral uprightness and decency (see the literal thinking of your classic Aspie Autist).
As it turned out, I missed ( as is in ignorant, inattentive and clueless, not longing for) the narcissism and criminal nature of the object of my attention, and subsequent co-parent of my/our seven children.
You may be wondering, why seven children? Surely that would be waay too overstimulating and demanding on one so neural-y and sensorally challenged? ...Well you know that thing, when an Austist do a thing? And then repeat that thing? Over and over again?
Well that's what I did, with having babies, plus my mum terrified me about birth control, and again, literalist thinking won the day .
Among those children, it turns out there was some Autism in the genetic mix. Second born son was the one with the most apparent dose of the Auties, complete with a intellectual disability, This posed a significant clue to my own recent diagnosis.
After many years of the musical stimming that enabled my development from near-mute to competent verbal communicator.
I had joined the musician baby Dada's band; thankfully the dramatic arts I had jumped at, in late primary and high school, had given me the prior stage experience that set me up to become a singer/dancer in his reggae band. It was the only option available, in order to learn how to communicate and I dance-stimmed my way to adulthood.
Reheasing songs is a lovely way for a autist to develop that brain-mind-voice connection, I might add, and is a stim that woks wonders, in oxytocin release, that adds to a much repaired endocrine system.
After a few thousand meltdowns and some major and breakdown burnouts, I left baby Dada in search for some support and in order to bring myself back from the brim of death, but not from sanity. That had long since fled the building, and yet, paradoxically, was remarkably intact. This is beyond the scope of my communicative abilities to explain.
I found a fellow AspAut, my current Significant other, and some years later, my family realised the, almost stereotypical, presentation of one of those "Little Professors" so eloquently and affectionately described by Hans Aspergers; That Little professor was my father.
After peeling back years of trauma, and many inadequate and/ or misdiagnosis' and missed symptoms, including an eating disorder that lasted until I was in my early thirties; I received "depression and anxiety" borderline personality disorder" and finally "complex ptsd" and had been extensively treated.
Recovery, although not complete, was significant, and yet somehow did not touch some deeper underlying issues I had always been experiencing.
I remembered how my mother always said "You're so like your Father" and so I decided to do some digging about Autism.
Sure enough after numerous online self tests, a tonne of research, and some soul searching, I began to grow in certainty, that THIS, was what explained the patterns of my difficulties, preoccupations and tendencies, and I approached my gp. Only to be told "Why would you want to spend all that money, to find out something you already know?
My situational mutism returned, and I could not find an answer for him.
6 years later, my executive function and burn out at new levels of severity, and my information addiction all consuming, my social life nonexistant, other that family members and my fellow NDerAspoid by my side, I reached out in desperation to the Austalian Autism website, a govey funded support and educational resource google suggested. They told me to apply for NDIS funding. Our wonderful and fortunate federal disability system. (Not perfect, but highly helpful if awarded) and I yielded to professional advice
So here I am, paying off the assessment for the NDIS application. A good deal I thought. Not long wait list, a nice snappy assessment, for the two in one ASD+ADHD (the ADHD revelation is for another story). A budget assessment for a bit over two grand. Two three to be exact. I was given the nod, by the assessor, after the online interview. He assured me I qualified for the dual diagnosis.
I didn't get an IQ test, but that was fine. I didn't want one of those. I've already done them in the past anyway.This is NOT a country you wanna emphasise your IQ in. Smart people are particularly unpopular, here, for the most part. Especially ones who don't finish things (the ADHD showing its face here). No high school, no tertiary, no university degree finished, despite initial enthusiasm, no attention and much demand avoidance dominated; only my musical stimming, interest-led information acquisition, art, advocacy, care-giving and crafts and paradoxically slow-and-fast processing issues, I can maintain.
Social confidence and social tolerance as very poor these days. The internet is an Autists godsend, but I CANNOT deal with the outside world, at this point. Not without support. And the deepening processing issues and autistic inertia, don't even get me started.
