I often wonder if I would be different today if i had been diagnosed as a child. I wonder this for several reasons…
I have talked with many people over the last few years, some with an early diagnosis and others with a late diagnosis. From this I gather more questions about myself. I wonder how my parents would have been? Would they have treated me differently? I assume my father would have been relatively the same but I think my mother would have been far different. She was already a helicopter mom but would have been ten times worse if she had known I had autism as a child.
Something else that I’ve considered is that fact that not knowing that I had autism forced me throughout life to come up with my own strategies at coping with life. Would I have used my autism as an excuse for not challenging myself to the fullest? I really don’t know the answer to that question.
At this point I also wonder about why there is such a huge deal about labels. I seem to notice from the many blogs I read that people with ASD will call themself an autistic person, while the blogs written by parents prefer to say child with autism. It seems to me that there is almost a sense of shame in the people who prefer the “child with autism” label. I don’t know if this is true or not but it seems to add even more stigma to the word than it attempts to take away.
Life is confusing at times. Maybe it would have been less confusing if I had known about my diagnosis at an earlier age, but maybe not. Would I have been as upset about being different if I had known why I was so different? To these questions I also have no answers, because I can’t put myself in that state of mind.
This brings me to my next item, I hate not being able to figure out the answer to things. I want to be able to just google or pick up a book and understand everything I need to know, but matters of my own mind are far more complicated. Sometimes I love the way my brain works and sometimes I hate the way my brain works. I hate how I get overwhelmed and shut down, but I love the peaceful calm that I feel when a shut down occurs. I love that I can remain silent for hours on end without ever feeling the need to break the silence.
Anyway, these are just some of my thoughts. I’m always told to tell people I am sorry if I offend them, even though I’m not really sorry…once again something I just don’t understand. Is it better to tell someone a lie than for them to be hurt by something I said, isn’t lying hurtful too? Maybe some things I will never understand and I guess that is supposed to be ok, even though it bugs the hell out of me.