Diagnosed

Well. It was challenging to find someone that diagnosed autism in adults. After telling my mom about my autism, she didn't believe me. She said things like "You're stupid," and "You're crazy."

Eventually, she agreed to help me find a diagnostician. She was calling around but no one was answering the phone, and those who did said they don't treat adults. She said that someone recommended her to check out AANE. She called me and told me what she had been doing. I was very happy, I thought she finally understood and abandoned her wrong perception of autism.

Later that day she joined a meeting from a mother's support group. After it ended she called me back and she was talking in a different tone. She said, "I told you you are not autistic, you have no idea what those mothers go through every day, you are nothing like their children." I was pretty sad after that, I thought she had come to understand me, but she didn't.

Autism is a spectrum disorder, some autistic people have higher support needs than others. It is a series of values, skills, and traits that go up and down for each individual, therefore, no autistic person is the same. My mom might believe that I have nothing in common with them, but I can see it. She seemed to be very fixated on the fact that those kids couldn't tie their shoelaces, or go to the bathroom. Now, I don't know much about the latter, but I remember it took me a very long time to learn to tie my shoes, way more than my peers, if that matters.

But it's not just that, now that I'm more knowledgeable in autism, looking back, I can see hints of it. It has always been difficult for me to make eye contact. And as a child, I didn't altogether. It wasn't until a school counselor in 2016 pointed it out to my mom as "something to note." She told me about it and since that day I've forced myself to make eye contact, even if it's just for less than ten seconds.

But anyway. We finally found a provider who specializes in late-diagnosed autistic people. The whole process was very stressful, I didn't know how things were going to turn out. The diagnostician asked me things about my childhood, and I said the things I described above and in other blog posts. And then she asked me to fill out very lengthy questionnaires.

Later that day I received my diagnosis letter. I'm autistic.

I felt happy and relieved. This difference I identified as autism months ago was finally confirmed. I say relieved because now I know that there is nothing wrong with me, or that I don't know how to do things, or that it could be something else.

I have been following the advice of autistic people in regards to sensory overload and unmasking for a few weeks now and it has really helped me. I know that I could do those things and more without a diagnosis, but what I really wanted from a formal diagnosis was my mom's acceptance. She said multiple times I couldn't possibly be autistic and that I couldn't self-identify or self-assess as such.

That is why I wanted an official diagnosis. In it, my differences and difficulties are explained, and which ones are significant that should be looked after.

But she still refuses to believe that I'm autistic. I don't know if she is still going through a denial phase, and I don't know if it will go away. I want to be able to unmask and be myself without being ostracized by her.

But well, now I have a better understanding of myself, and I will be working to minimize burnout, manage my emotions better, and live as a happy autistic person.