My Story- Autism

It is difficult to tell my story with autism because I’m not exactly sure what autism means for me or how much of my life it has affected. I felt like a pretty normal kid until third grade. I had a good group of friends that I would spend time with at recess or during lunch. I was in speech therapy because I had a hard time saying the letter “R”. I didn’t feel like therapy made me any different than anyone else though. I went with a few other students and we played games. It just felt like a break from class for a while.

In second grade, I started hanging out with a certain boy in my class. Typical, elementary school crushes, we would sit on the swings at recess and talk. I hardly spent any time with my group of friends because I would be with my seven-year-old crush. The next year, he moved away and I assumed that I could go back to my group of friends and nothing would have changed. Of course, I was wrong. A lot changes in a year. My friends had new friends, a new leader of the group, and new things they liked to do to pass the time.

I no longer felt like I fit in, and set off on my own to find other friends. The thing is, I had no idea how to make friends, how to talk to people, how to recognize facial expressions or know if someone liked me and wanted me around. My first group of friends evolved around the sister of my brother’s best friend. She had been to my house before and so it was natural to gravitate towards her at school. When I left her and that group of friends, I had no leads. I had no one to gravitate to, and not being able to say the letter “R” made it difficult to avoid teasing or misunderstanding.

It’s a pretty simple story and seems to have little to do with autism, which is exactly why it took until seventh grade to receive a diagnosis. People said I was shy; they blamed it on my speech impediment; they said I was lazy or that school was just hard. I don’t even think my family understood. How could I explain something so simple and yet so difficult? In my seven year old vocabulary and social skills, how could I explain that I was still the same person, that nothing had changed about me; it was the situation that changed and I didn’t know how to handle it.

Once I was diagnosed, nothing really changed. I had some accommodations for school work and we focused more on social skills in my speech therapy sessions. It was still incredibly difficult, but I just kept going. That was all I could really do, all I can really do.

Now that I  know more about autism, I am beginning to explore what it means. I’m beginning to explore the differences in social reading, emotional reciprocity, and giving of social cues. I’m not good at it, but I am pretty good at faking it. I guess and then search for clues that I was right or wrong and make a course correction. I think we are all like that. We all don’t fully understand each other, no matter how well we can read social cues. For me, it’s just been more of an emotional and psychological journey.

What I am learning more about and learning to embrace more is the “restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior”- the sensory side of autism, the special interests, stereotyped movements. In my intellectual, black-and-white mindset, it’s not easy to accept these sides of autism. My mind tells me they are wrong, abnormal, different, unacceptable, unforgivable, unlovable. I’m just starting to get past those thoughts, but it’s difficult. It’s difficult to rewrite years of observation, experimentation, and self-experienced research. But that journey is a story for a different day.


Now that depression isn’t a debilitating part of my life for the moment, I have been able to focus on social skills in therapy instead.

It’s really hard to have client-driven therapy when you’re focusing on social skills. It’s like going to a talent show and being told there’s too many singers so you have to dance instead. Even though you explain that you don’t know how to dance, they just say to try your best and hope it’s what the audience wants. I feel like that’s what I’m doing most of the time in therapy. I have no idea how to communicate, but I’m trying to figure out how to dance and what the audience wants.

It’s sort of exhausting, but good at the same time. I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m drowning half the time, but I’m learning how to swim in the process. I feel like I have been treading water in the social realm for so long that learning to swim is crazy hard. But… At least I have someone who is willing to teach me and maybe eventually I can survive in the deep end.

(Sorry for all the analogies. It’s the only way I know to express how this stuff feels. Hopefully they all make sense!)

Learning to Swim Socially

My posts over the last few months have been largely focused on my lack of social skills and the struggles that come with that. Anyway, after talking to some people about this and thinking a lot about it I realized something. I’ve been going about this the wrong way. I’ve been trying to be sociable without taking the time to learn social skills. I have wanted so badly to be part of the social world I see around me that I haven’t taken the time to learn how to first.

Trying to socialize without developing the skills first is like jumping feet first into a pool and trying to stay afloat. You can doggy paddle around the pool and keep from sinking, but you won’t be able to swim like everyone else until you take the time to learn how to swim. And I’d been doggy paddling for so long that I think I felt like I was drowning these last couple months.

So, long story short, I’ve decided to take a step back and learn how to swim socially. Right now I might have to just hang on to the side of the pool for a while and watch other people swim while I observe and get some coaching, but hopefully in time I can learn to socialize more like other people so that I can navigate this social world in which I long to belong.