Read on Twitter
Because I want to say more on this.... https://twitter.com/geekgalgroks/status/1358137954384965632
I was in therapy from for pretty much all my school years.
I was in contact with therapists, psychologics, and psychiatrists.
No one said anything to me about being autistic or asperger's or anything.
Because I was a girl.
I was in contact with therapists, psychologics, and psychiatrists.
No one said anything to me about being autistic or asperger's or anything.
Because I was a girl.
I'd go asking if emotions were okay and is this the right emotion for the situation.
I'd tell my history with no emotions, just reporting facts because well it was the past. What could I do about it now or even then? I was too little.
I'd tell my history with no emotions, just reporting facts because well it was the past. What could I do about it now or even then? I was too little.
They would help me make scripts so I knew how to interact with people.
They would help me process interactions.
My viral posts about how to navigate conferences, yeah years of therapy and some good tips from friends.
I mean it was pretty fucking obvious looking back at it.
They would help me process interactions.
My viral posts about how to navigate conferences, yeah years of therapy and some good tips from friends.
I mean it was pretty fucking obvious looking back at it.
My mom getting therapy supplies for my brother but it was really for me.
Last year I finally figured out why she said to me after posting the emotions poster on the wall for my brother, "This will be good for you too!"
I didn't get it. No one's face looked like those cartoons.
Last year I finally figured out why she said to me after posting the emotions poster on the wall for my brother, "This will be good for you too!"
I didn't get it. No one's face looked like those cartoons.
So yeah, like 25 years later I get it.
And my great aunts teaching me knitting, crochet, and cross stitch.
It was productive figets I could do and not appear rude when in a room. Because people don't like it when you read while everyone else is talking.
Certain crafts on the other hand, those get a pass.
It was productive figets I could do and not appear rude when in a room. Because people don't like it when you read while everyone else is talking.
Certain crafts on the other hand, those get a pass.
So much of my life was people figuring out how to get me to mask better.
How to hide in plain sight.
How to be just quirky instead of the weird, know it all, loner girl.
How to hide in plain sight.
How to be just quirky instead of the weird, know it all, loner girl.
So yeah, I had to self diagnosis.
To confirm what I already knew.
To be able to not force myself into "this is what I have to mimic".
To let me be me.
To confirm what I already knew.
To be able to not force myself into "this is what I have to mimic".
To let me be me.
Yeah, I suck at cleaning.
Because I was mimicking what I was taught. It doesn't make sense to me. Never did.
Clothes wrinkle as soon as you wear them, why fold? The creases hurt.
Hence letting myself just be in baskets and doing my pile thing. Piles work.
Because I was mimicking what I was taught. It doesn't make sense to me. Never did.
Clothes wrinkle as soon as you wear them, why fold? The creases hurt.
Hence letting myself just be in baskets and doing my pile thing. Piles work.
And leggings.
I hated the idea of leggings. Because in the 80s with stirrup pants, the seams were everywhere and hurt.
(Mom called)
I hated the idea of leggings. Because in the 80s with stirrup pants, the seams were everywhere and hurt.
(Mom called)
And having clothes hurt is another fricken common thing.
Like I hate the feel of crushed velvet. It makes me angry.
Like I hate the feel of crushed velvet. It makes me angry.
But now I wear leggings because people have figured out flat seams.
Stirrup pants will always be dead to me. Those things sucked and never fit right.
Stirrup pants will always be dead to me. Those things sucked and never fit right.
But now I know why I hated elastic waistband pants and sock seams.
I have words to describe it.
I can be like, "It is not just me and I am not imagining it."
I have words to describe it.
I can be like, "It is not just me and I am not imagining it."
Because gaslighting was everywhere.
It was required to make me mimic more.
I had to pretend my body and brain weren't screaming to make other people happy.
Which is bullshit.
It was required to make me mimic more.
I had to pretend my body and brain weren't screaming to make other people happy.
Which is bullshit.
So yes, I self diagnosed to get the words to explain my experience.
I now have a vocabulary that people recognize.
I have a way to be like, "Oh! So not everyone does/thinks that? I thought that is why no one mentioned it."
I now have a vocabulary that people recognize.
I have a way to be like, "Oh! So not everyone does/thinks that? I thought that is why no one mentioned it."
