Hi I’m Autistic, Nice to Meet Me

Well hello there! (She types to absolutely no one – if you are in fact reading this I don’t mean you, you are not no one)

I’ve written three times over summer but not blogged one of them. I started a blog for a bit of a daft laugh and to offload some of the chaos from my mind but convinced myself that my offloading wasn’t funny enough.

I’ve decided that’s bullshit though. Life isn’t always funny and what’s the point of only writing a blog when you’re in a good mood? In fact, some of my best writing comes from being in a shitty mood. Anyway, I digress.

Summer was fucking hard. We all hated the heat, everyone was completely overwhelmed and or overstimulated and I was the metaphorical hammock holding the weight of it all. I barely came up for air and my nervous system was just a fucking mess which in turn gave me intense mum guilt. It goes without saying that my small humans are my entire life but that doesn’t make it any easier to anticipate every single persons needs when you’re just one human.

I’ve mentioned that I’m autistic and I have ADHD but I’ve never really gone into it. I find it hard to articulate honestly. I’ve spent 30 odd years feeling like I’m doing life wrong and only ever thrived in situations where I had a clear purpose. I struggle with making decisions but other times I know exactly what I want. I am a walking contradiction. I’ve never been able to answer a question simply, there’s always background, context and variables for example: Do you like ice cream? No, not a fan. However, I do occasionally like certain flavours of Ben and Jerry’s if the mood strikes me and I quite like the banoffee ice cream at a particular cinema but generally no.

When I got diagnosed it made sense and I loved finally being able to understand myself better but some days (weeks, months) are just really fucking tough. Trying to explain two contradicting personalities coexisting in one mind whose needs vary on a daily basis without sounding like you are just making it up is exhausting. I like to know the plan but I’ll do something exciting last minute, I don’t like too many subtle noises at once but I can listen to loud music in my car, I hate mess but I’m shit at organisation, I hate making decisions but someone choosing wrong for me can actually help me decide what I wanted in the first place (much to husband faces annoyance), I’m impatient but I waffle and tell long stories (case in point, case and point?). Talking about it makes me feel like I’m making excuses for existing rather than actually giving myself the grace to do things differently which is wild really considering I’ve masked my entire life for the sole purpose of not inconveniencing anyone else.

So yeah, summer was hard, my autism was autisming and I was out of my depth. Then we went on holiday and I gave myself full permission to be present and allow someone else to do the planning. So many things on that holiday brought me pure joy and swimming felt like breathing. I even got 35 states playing the license plate game, my highest score ever! So that’s me over-explaining myself, not talking about being autistic and writing again.

Alas, nonsense.