On one of the brief sunny days last week, I was walking to pick up my children from school and (as usual) looking down. As I look at the grass verges, I see the blades of grass nestle together. I see each individual blade: thinner blades, thicker blades; taller blades, shorter blades; patches of mud, a daisy here and there. It’s still a grass verge, and my brain certainly isn’t quick enough to count each blade of grass, but it’s also lots of individual parts making up a whole.
And I have no idea if I see what other people see. I don’t know whether someone else just sees a swathe of green with texture, or sees each blade, or sees the people walking towards them because they’re not looking down at grass verges as they walk.
I’ve not been blogging much for quite a while. I’ve been thinking too much. And being anxious. Being a lot of anxious. It makes concentration hard.
And now I’m trying to re-frame my life as being disabled. I’ve seen myself as useless, and needy, and pathetic, and incapable; but never disabled. It feels strange.
I am autistic.
I can’t quite get the words to come out without having to qualify it somehow.
Of course I’m not very autistic.
Of course it’s Asperger’s really, if that still existed as a diagnosis, not real autism…
15 months. One hour pre-assessment. 400+ questionnaire questions. Six hours observation, interviews and tests with clinical psychologist and neuropsychologist. Two hours interviewing my husband. 2500+ words of supporting information. Seven years of secondary school reports. 60+ questionnaire questions to my mother. 35 pages of feedback report.
“… would confirm a primary diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder…”
I am autistic.