The problem Child

Unfortunately for those diagnosed with Asperger’s before the 2000’s, we can pretty much all agree that unless you have parents who accepted and understood you, you were the problem child in your home. And I’m not talking about that movie with the blonde kid that just popped into my mind, I’m talking about anxious feeling you get when you feel unwanted and misunderstood. Even if they do love you, it doesn’t feel that way when you are stimming by cracking your knuckles without even realizing that you are doing it, then end up grounded for yet another week because of it.

The feeling when you hyperextend your joints and you are also making a noise by doing it.. I will be 37 in two weeks, and I still crack my knuckles without even realizing that I am doing it at times. In settings where it is distracting (like a court room… yeah, I have been many times for custody proceedings), my husband has literally put his hand on mine to signal that I am doing it. I also have this weird aversion to sitting like a normal person. I am sitting in my computer chair with both feet on it reaching over to type on the keyboard, just because that is what feels right. If given the option of sitting in a chair or sitting on the ground or floor, I choose the ground or floor pretty much every time. I can’t explain it; it just feels more relaxing and comfortable to me to have my feet closer to the rest of my body.

Actually, I am going to look that up right now, because there MUST be a reason for this phenomenon. This is what I got

·         Sensory seeking or avoiding- Sitting on the floor or with feet up might be a way to modulate sensory input, either by providing more pressure and body feedback or by reducing sensory input from chairs or other seating

·         The ground or floor can sometimes offer a more stable and predictable sensory environment, which may be helpful when experiencing sensory overload

I am fairly certain that it’s the modulating sensory input. I think I can feel my legs more when they are down? I don’t know if that even makes sense, but I’m going to get back into the post now.

By the time I was 18, I was told that I was a horrible influence on my siblings and that she would be happy when I am gone. This was said on repeat just short of a year before my father was told that he had to choose between me and the rest of his family (wife and three younger siblings). He chose his family, and I understood where I landed… I was not a part of it. I think the most memorable part of that whole experience was knowing that it wasn’t my misbehavior that was the culprit as I didn’t drink or use drugs of any kind. It was who I am as a person that bothered her so much and I am fine with that.

I now choose my family and who I spend time with. It eliminates my having to mask who I am around people who should accept me for the person I am. I have two friends that I see and speak to on a regular basis. It’s not that I don’t have more friends than that, it’s just that I don’t reach out for baseless conversations the way other people do. I don’t have the capacity to idly talk about the weather or the color of my toenails. These are just examples. I haven’t had someone message me about the color of their toenails in over a decade, but yes, it has totally happened.

I think that is why I have a tendency of over sharing things that I don’t need to tell people. It’s as if my mind refuses to sit in comfortable silence if there is someone present that I feel I need to be conversing with. Silence just becomes awkward, and my brain falls out of my mouth. THAT is why writing is so good for me. Writing allows me to go down the rabbit hole that my mind is in, while ensuring that I can edit some of the things that are written before sharing with other people.

I was always told as a child and teenager that I ‘rat myself out.’ The absolutely not funny part of this is that I wasn’t trying to say anything that would get me into trouble. My parent’s knew that I was diagnosed with Asperger’s and yet, apparently didn’t think to tell me that oversharing is a symptom. I don’t lie. Even if I wanted to (which I have tried as everyone has), the entirely of the truth will fall from my brain to my mouth shortly after because when I am anxious or feel like I should be talking, it just happens.

The women with Asperger’s, who are undiagnosed (many don’t find out until adulthood), tend to have an even worse time getting through life without the knowledge they need. Whether they are wearing all black, refusing to wear certain clothes because they feel weird, hiding in a dark corner to read while playing the same song on repeat to drown out the noise of everyone around them or simply being told the word maybe, which doesn’t give them the feeling of a solid item to add to their routine.

My parents attempted to have me diagnosed with bipolar at one point because I would become upset quickly after being perfectly content. The counselor I went to see insisted that it wasn’t bipolar, it was severe depression and that when I came out of it, I had a lot of energy. As I look back, it is pretty obvious that I wasn’t just depressed as many women with Asperger’s become, my outbursts and upset had more to do with emotional dysregulation from sensory overload than anything. When I was in my comfort zone, I was good. When I was forced to endure the chaos of that house, I would shut down or react. To this day, if I enter a store that is bustling, I will either leave and find another one or if it is a necessary shopping run, I will get through it as quickly as I can. I have had compliments on my ability to get an entire shopping list completed (spending a couple hundred dollars) within twenty minutes. I write my shopping list in order of the aisles the items are in, so I don’t miss anything. Yes, I have absolutely memorized the location of all the items I need in any local store.

The issue of feeling like the problem child and actually being a problem child vary with perspective. Yes, I absolutely was the child who corrected everyone for grammar and semantics; however, I was also the child that could not accept the word maybe and thought that someone joking and telling me no, meant no. I was literal to a fault and would become upset at the drop of a hat when someone was kidding with me. It wasn’t until I was in my twenties that I began asking people if they were being sarcastic. I used sarcasm, yes but I was mirroring the behavior of those around me to fit in.

Quite recently I was repeating the phrase “you’re good” to everything. It was like a nervous tic I had going on where that was all I could think to say.

Well, THAT was a horrible thing to have when standing in front of a judge and explaining my side, then when she said something to me my response was “you’re good.”

The judge looked at me funny the first time and then when it happened again, said, “I don’t know what that means.”

I was horrified. I didn’t know how to respond so I just nodded. It is scary as it is to be in front of a judge for custody proceedings with your daughter’s abusive father, but to insult her by saying something like “you’re good…” come on!

That day, I made a point to start saying “yes your honor” on repeat in my head so it wouldn’t happen again. I do it for two days before every court date now. Some things are hard to come to terms with, yet having a solution for even the most basic of things that could happen is often needed. Whether that is the redundancy of having three calendars you keep for your entire life or a simple fix as simple as repeating a phrase in your mind so being tongue tied doesn’t become an issue.

I feel like there should be a streamlined screening for anyone who could be on the spectrum, like even a checklist for parents to fill out at the beginning of a school year. It may not be cost effective for the school systems to help everyone who needs it as opposed to everyone who asks for it, but it would increase the likelihood that everyone is getting the help they need.