AGXStarseed
Well-Known Member
(Not written by me. Due to the article length, please click the link at the bottom of the page to read the full article)
Laura James spent her whole life feeling different from others, until she was diagnosed with Asperger's as an adult - now her curious path to career success finally makes sense
Laura James was diagnosed with autism as an adult, years after constantly feeling she was different from others. Photo: John Lawrence
I sighed as I read new research from Cambridge University this month, confirming that men are more likely to test higher on the autism spectrum than women; and those who work in science, engineering, mathematics or technology, higher again.
However true it may be, my worry is that it compounds a stereotype (that those with autism tend to be geeky men doing something unfathomable) and crops out of the picture millions of people like me - women with autism who struggle to balance their current account, are baffled by spreadsheets and who are more interested in fashion than physics.
Until I was diagnosed with high-functioning autism this summer, I had spent my whole life feeling different. Not broken exactly, but somehow ‘other’. Unable to do things that most people find straightforward. Plagued by guilt, fear and a sense of inadequacy.
At school, I was the small girl on the bench in the playground with her head buried in a book, unwilling or unable to be one of the crowd. Though now 46, on many levels this is how I have remained. Interacting with the world as if behind glass.
Laura's diagnosis paved the way for a better understanding of herself.
My diagnosis was a vindication: I am not defective. I am autistic. Along with the shock, came a strange sense of comfort. Finally, I belong somewhere - and that somewhere is on the autism spectrum.
Parents often say they go through a grieving process when they find out their child has autism. In some small way I felt something similar. A sense of loss for the life I might have had, had I been diagnosed earlier.
From early childhood I was marked out as gifted and I was fixated on learning. Yet I left school at 16 with only a cookery O-level - I was ill-equipped to deal with either exams, or the real world.
Lost and directionless, I bounced from one job to the next - my part-time work included time at a call centre, a property developer and a posh dating agency - but I was left feeling exposed and alone by complicated office politics, illogical workplace rules and the sensory overload triggered by fluorescent lighting, ringing phones and the background hum of conversation.
Laura was given addictive tranquilisers at the age of 20
No one understood why I couldn’t cope. Some put it down to my being spoiled or stupid and I didn’t have the words to explain the strange feelings no one else seemed to experience. I had tried normal and had failed.
I went from doctor to doctor. I was very thin (I would forget to eat, or my exacting standards would make shopping and cooking difficult) so medical professionals suspected anorexia. My heart would race on standing up, so I was diagnosed with anxiety. I struggled to breathe while stumbling out my story to yet another man in a white coat, so they concluded hyperventilation syndrome.
They gave me small, seemingly innocuous, blue pills. I was just 20, not old enough to know you should ask the name of the little tablet you’re taking three times a day. Lorazepam is a notoriously addictive tranquiliser, and it was my subsequent addiction to them that sent me to rehab for three months at the age of 23.
The experience taught me that life is tough. That I had it better than most. And that those who think of themselves as special and different are in for a nasty fall. So again I tried to blend in.
SOURCE: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/women/wo...e-knowing-I-have-high-functioning-autism.html
Laura James spent her whole life feeling different from others, until she was diagnosed with Asperger's as an adult - now her curious path to career success finally makes sense
Laura James was diagnosed with autism as an adult, years after constantly feeling she was different from others. Photo: John Lawrence
I sighed as I read new research from Cambridge University this month, confirming that men are more likely to test higher on the autism spectrum than women; and those who work in science, engineering, mathematics or technology, higher again.
However true it may be, my worry is that it compounds a stereotype (that those with autism tend to be geeky men doing something unfathomable) and crops out of the picture millions of people like me - women with autism who struggle to balance their current account, are baffled by spreadsheets and who are more interested in fashion than physics.
Until I was diagnosed with high-functioning autism this summer, I had spent my whole life feeling different. Not broken exactly, but somehow ‘other’. Unable to do things that most people find straightforward. Plagued by guilt, fear and a sense of inadequacy.
At school, I was the small girl on the bench in the playground with her head buried in a book, unwilling or unable to be one of the crowd. Though now 46, on many levels this is how I have remained. Interacting with the world as if behind glass.
Laura's diagnosis paved the way for a better understanding of herself.
My diagnosis was a vindication: I am not defective. I am autistic. Along with the shock, came a strange sense of comfort. Finally, I belong somewhere - and that somewhere is on the autism spectrum.
Parents often say they go through a grieving process when they find out their child has autism. In some small way I felt something similar. A sense of loss for the life I might have had, had I been diagnosed earlier.
From early childhood I was marked out as gifted and I was fixated on learning. Yet I left school at 16 with only a cookery O-level - I was ill-equipped to deal with either exams, or the real world.
Lost and directionless, I bounced from one job to the next - my part-time work included time at a call centre, a property developer and a posh dating agency - but I was left feeling exposed and alone by complicated office politics, illogical workplace rules and the sensory overload triggered by fluorescent lighting, ringing phones and the background hum of conversation.
Laura was given addictive tranquilisers at the age of 20
No one understood why I couldn’t cope. Some put it down to my being spoiled or stupid and I didn’t have the words to explain the strange feelings no one else seemed to experience. I had tried normal and had failed.
I went from doctor to doctor. I was very thin (I would forget to eat, or my exacting standards would make shopping and cooking difficult) so medical professionals suspected anorexia. My heart would race on standing up, so I was diagnosed with anxiety. I struggled to breathe while stumbling out my story to yet another man in a white coat, so they concluded hyperventilation syndrome.
They gave me small, seemingly innocuous, blue pills. I was just 20, not old enough to know you should ask the name of the little tablet you’re taking three times a day. Lorazepam is a notoriously addictive tranquiliser, and it was my subsequent addiction to them that sent me to rehab for three months at the age of 23.
The experience taught me that life is tough. That I had it better than most. And that those who think of themselves as special and different are in for a nasty fall. So again I tried to blend in.
SOURCE: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/women/wo...e-knowing-I-have-high-functioning-autism.html
