Autistic Hedgehog

myself formally tested to get a diagnosis. I can cope with things and the things I can’t cope with, I don’t see how it would make any difference to my life to be diagnosed even though I’m pretty sure I am autistic. So, would it be wrong to consider myself autistic without a diagnosis and without any desire to be diagnosed? Sorry for the length of this.

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You’d hardly be the first person to suspect they’re autistic but not want a diagnosis. For some it’s not a very helpful thing to have, and can even be detrimental. If you don’t see a situation in which you’d need it, that’s fine. 

The only really important part is making sure you’ve done good research first. It’s good to know as much as you can—some disorders will have overlapping symptoms, and you may find something else you relate to more, possibly even something you would like to have diagnosed. But there’s nothing wrong with considering yourself autistic without an official diagnosis. 

Bluntness can easily be associated with things like assertiveness. Some people just can’t handle dating someone who has a spine, sadly. 

We all have those days. Every last one of us, even those of us who are otherwise secure and comfortable with who we are.

It’s hard not to, when society constantly tells us that everything about us is wrong. Consider: Anyone could have broken that bin. Absolutely anyone. It’s the sort of thing that could happen to any person, on any day of the week, anywhere else on the planet. But being autistic, a lot of time people blow our mistakes way out of proportion—and that includes ourselves. We’re so used to our behaviors being pathologized, our oddities being treated as if they’re odder than everyone else’s, our mistakes somehow being bigger and more damaging to other people than the ones made by allistics, that it becomes so difficult not to blame our autism—and think there’s something wrong with us—when these things happen. 

But it’s not true. People treat us that way out of prejudice, intolerance, hatred and ignorance. They are the ones who’re wrong.  You’re not worth less than other people because you made the same kind of mistake anyone else could. You’re not a burden because sometimes you’re clumsy or mess up. It might sound a bit typical, but it really is true that no one is perfect; everyone has weaknesses, has things they’re not good at. Do we go around talking about how people need to be cured because they can’t play basketball or do long division or sing well or jump rope or any of a number of other things? Nope. We don’t. 

So why should you need to be cured? You don’t. Society has just trained you to doubt yourself because it views you as different. Because it has a set of “norms” that you don’t meet, a set that is completely arbitrary and narrow-minded, and society is an inflexible bastard that would rather bully you into changing yourself than work to adapt to your needs. Well, society can go fuck itself. You have every right to be you, just like anyone else does, and who you are is not lesser. 

These feelings aren’t truth. They’re not coming from you, they’re not some form of acceptance of what’s “right.” They’ve been forced on you by judgmental asshats, and yeah, there will probably always be days when they’re hard to fight. There will always be moments of doubt. But that’s what we’re here for, me and other people like me. To remind you that the problem isn’t you, and to help you up when you’re down. 

Because the problem really. Isn’t. You.

This is completely outside my sphere of experience, hedgehogs not being known for their musical acumen and all. I will try, but I really don’t know the first thing about music, except I like it fast, with lots of drums.

For a lot of it, it may be that practicing will get you somewhere. Working harder at making up for the areas where you’re weakest. Everyone has weaknesses, after all, things they need to focus more attention on than other aspects of what they’re doing. If you know anyone who might be willing to help you get more comfortable working in groups, see if they’ll spend a little time working with you outside of classes. That way you’ll also get a chance to spend some time on it without feeling pressured.

As to stimming while you perform…a lot of performers move around a lot. What kind of stims do you do when you perform? Do you think there might be a way you can adjust these a little so they appear to be just part of your performance? Stims can and do change; tweaking them a little should be within the realm of possibility.

And there’s that age old advice: Fake it til you make it. It might be cliche, but it can work. Especially if this is something you really want. 

Yes, actually.

First of all, communicate. Always, always, always communicate. Be literal and straightforward about what you want and feel. 

Be honest, even in cases where it might sting a little. We can be blunt and not always realize what we say may be hurtful, but don’t hold it in. We need to know there are problems if we’re going to fix them.

Don’t assume an autistic person behaves a certain way for the same reasons you might. A lot of times we don’t. I’ll often try to stop arguments with my husband and back away, and he tends to make the assumption that I’m using some kind of strategy to get the last word in, when in fact I’m just overwhelmed and my brain is shutting down and I can’t cope with it anymore. 

Sometimes we’re not very good at holding a facial expression, especially when we’re not doing much, or in a situation that lulls us into relaxation. This has led to many an occasion, for me, where I’ve had to reassure someone a thousand times that I’m perfectly fine. Take what we say at face value unless you have very good reason to think otherwise. It’s false to say we can’t/don’t lie, but even so, a lot of us don’t bother; we don’t see the point and thus can’t be arsed.

Finally, try not to take autistic behaviors personally. Sure, we come in all types, including assholes, but for most of us we just are that way. Sometimes we don’t return hugs or want hugs; that’s nothing against you. We may not like public affection, being in pictures, we may go through periods where we don’t want to kissed or touched, we may have meltdowns or freak out over changes or surprises, but don’t jump to the conclusion that it’s personal. Ask if you’re uncertain, but most of the time it’s just us being us.

(Caveat: Not really sure that I, of all people, should be giving anyone dating advice, considering my abysmal record. Just something to be aware of.)

A really good significant other can be better than dozens of friends. Especially one who already accepts that your social signals can be a little mixed up sometimes. 

Sadly, society encourages “high-functioning” autistics to hate or at least be ignorant about “low-functioning” autistics. Anyone perceived as high-functioning will be praised for their passing ability (“I hope my child is just like you someday”) and told they’re not like “low-functioning” autistics. If they don’t know anyone considered low-functioning, it’s hard to know what the differences are and are not. Like many things, it’s a problem on a deep, societal level.

I still haven’t quite figured out how to deal with people who believe Asperger’s Syndrome isn’t autism. It was never presented to me as anything but autism by the people who diagnosed and treated me, and I can’t understand how the idea got out there in the first place (but would not be the least surprised if Autism Speaks is somehow partially responsible).  

My best guess on the matter is this: Rather than being emotionless, autistic people have a tendency to feel emotions very deeply and strongly, and we can’t always hide that. Sometimes the reason we can’t hide it is because we don’t even realize that our feelings are showing in the first place. (There’s nothing wrong with this, even if society likes to act like there is. Don’t let other people squash your emotions.)

So what happens is, when we’re around someone we like—not necessarily, and in fact often not at all, in a romantic way—we’re happy and comfortable. We relax. Our happiness and comfort comes out, and for many of us it’s just easier to act like ourselves, and we’re often fun and funny people. Society has some pretty messed up ideas about socialization and the meaning of social cues (aspects of rape culture reflect this pretty well) and thus it gets read as flirting when it’s merely happiness and comfort expressing itself unrestrained.

Conversely, this would also explain why a lot of us have trouble flirting on purpose. If we’re romantically or sexually interested, we’re invested in a different way, one that makes it damn near impossible to be completely at ease. Instant recipe for awkwardness. 

A caveat: Those are simply my thoughts on the matter, and are based on observation, of myself and of other autistics. I can’t really back it up with science.