Autistic Hedgehog

I honestly don’t know. I would venture a guess that it depends on the individual in question, but it’s not something I know much about. Though they do sound like the kind of stims that may be exacerbated by something else, like some kind of anxiety disorder. 

Here’s the thing. While in a sense your parents are right, I also think they’re very, very wrong.

They’re right that there will be people who call you a faker. That’s because there are people in this world who are ignorant and who probably won’t change no matter what any of us says or does. It’s something autistics deal with a lot: people who think we’re faking, or people who dismiss us because we appear to be “high-functioning” and thus don’t fit with what they think autism is supposed to mean. I won’t lie to you; you are going to encounter those people.

But I think your parents are wrong that it’s a bad idea. I think it’s a great idea and if it’s what you really want, you should go for it. Raising awareness is important, especially raising the awareness that autism means many different things. That we’re all different people with all different strengths and weaknesses, capable of accomplishing an enormous number of different things.

In the end, though, it comes down to you. There will be people who will call you a faker. There will be people who use you as inspiration porn. You may have to keep it quiet until you actually land a spot on a team–which in and of itself won’t be easy–to avoid discrimination. But if it really means something to you, don’t let ignorant people stop you from doing it. If it’s worth it to you and you’re willing to face what hurdles may come, more power to you. 

Whatever choice you make, make sure it’s the one that suits you, the one you pick for yourself, regardless of what others might say or do, because it’s what you want. You’ll always find support here at AH no matter what choice you make. 

There could be a lot of reasons behind this that you should take into consideration way before misdiagnosis. 

First of all, it could be that you’re prone to shutting down rather than melting down (which might explain the lack of crying). Both tend to occur from overstimulation of some kind. I was very prone to shut downs whenever a family member or friend died (which happened a lot for me). If I cried at all, it was very little, and I’m sure my reactions came off very cold to other people. There was so much grief going on around me that I couldn’t cope with it, so it was a bit like I disconnected a part of myself. Maybe you do that instead.

Maybe it’s as simple as you’ve managed to, one way or another, keep yourself free of situations and spaces that cause you to meltdown. That’s pretty hard to do for anyone, though, as meltdowns can be caused by anything from a place that’s too crowded to a day of snowballing disasters (even if they’re small disasters).

Or maybe you’ve learned how to deal with things enough that you don’t have meltdowns. I don’t have them very often either. There’s complications from autism that I’ve learned to deal with quite well. I used to be the kind of person who couldn’t handle any change in her routine; literally, if I burnt my breakfast, I wouldn’t go to school. I don’t know exactly what happened since then–I think, on some subconscious level, I realized how little I got out of giving in to that–but these days I can roll with most changes, and recover from the ones that do get to me. 

Maybe you’ve learned to process what’s happening to you and avoid meltdowns without even realizing it. It’ll take some self-examination to find your answer, but don’t assume it’s misdiagnosis until you’ve looked at all the other possible answers. We’re all different, we all learn and process differently, we grow to be able to cope more with some things and sometimes less with others.

(Small caveat: I don’t go to school anymore, and I don’t have to work, so not having to deal with those upsetting environments has likely done a lot to help with my lack of meltdowns and the like. If I had to get a day job, I don’t know if I’d be able to function as often and as well as I do. Just the thought makes me sick to my stomach. Just pointing out that learning to cope is great and wonderful and all, but what therapists and the like–who will try to teach you these things–forget is that environment counts too.)

Well, Jay, my question for you is: Do under even understand why it makes you uncomfortable?

It’s important to understand why you feel the way you feel, even if facing it might be uncomfortable. You’ve been honest with yourself that you have this problem to begin with, which is good.

Now, do you feel this way because someone else’s stimming or meltdowns, which can be loud or distracting or numerous other things, overload your own senses? Is it because you, like everyone else, have been taught your whole life that this sort of thing is supposed to make us feel uncomfortable? (Hooray, ableism.) Is it because there’s a part of you that fears that somehow anyone around you might see this person and make some sort of leap that you, too, are autistic (even if you’re not stimming or having a meltdown at the time)? Maybe it’s all of those things. Maybe it’s a combination of two of them. Maybe it’s something else. But discovering the reason will help you if you really want to change how you feel.

You’re also going to need patience and understanding, both for the other people and for yourself. This isn’t something you can change overnight, so don’t get too frustrated with yourself when you can’t stop those feelings right away. We’re often raised in societies that teach us that it’s rude to stare at people who are disabled, rude to ask questions, etc. etc., but really what we end up being taught is that it’s rude to acknowledge the existence of disabled people and, if we do, it’s rude to feel anything but discomfort and pity. We’re taught that there’s a stigma just by being near or like disabled people, and even when we’re disabled ourselves, we can’t easily escape having those lessons etched into our brains. 

This doesn’t make you a bad person, it really doesn’t. You’d be a bad person if you didn’t give a damn, but clearly you do. Now you need to accept that you’re not perfect, that you probably won’t change your feelings and get this right instantly, and that will help. 

And like I said, patience and understanding for the other person(s) involved. You know what they’re going through, you’re in a better place to empathize than anyone else. You actually understand, to some extent at the least, what drives their behavior, so you know there’s no real reason it should be so stigmatized. You know, somewhere inside you, that society is in the wrong for judging people, and part of getting over this will likely be learning not to give a damn what society thinks of you.

It’s hard to get away from what society teaches us; even when we’re autistic, a lot of those lessons burrow their way in. Shaking them off takes time, patience and acceptance, and what you need to do more than anything else is give yourself (and other people like you) all three of those. 

(Cont.) the annoyance of friends and family. And myself. It’s frustrating sometimes, but I can get some level of control over it so I’m not pacing or darting about in public.

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Well, I don’t know if it's exactly the same, but I do my best thinking and imagining when I’m moving in some way. I end up doing a lot of planning for my stories while I’m walking, or when I’m in a moving vehicle (which has led to me having to assure people, over and over again, then I’m fine while in a bus or car–I’m just thinking).

I’ve learned to control my movements, because if I’m, say, thinking through a conversation between two characters in my head, I sometimes follow through with their gestures and stuff. People tend to stare when one does that.

Anyone else?