Asperger's and Girls (15 page)

By the time I had the baby, the man I had thought was my soul mate was gone, and unable to attend the birth. He and I shared many moments and at times we tried to be more for our baby. The first couple of years he came and went, and then one time was the last time. I heard from a mutual friend he was involved in an accident and did not survive. I may never know the truth, but I knew that people physically disappeared from my life all the time.

The confusion for me at that time in my life was not “why” I got pregnant before I got married, so much as “how.” I know that sounds really odd; I have heard people laugh about this topic all the time, yet not many people really know how a pregnancy begins. I let it go once I understood the basics. It was what later led me to the career I chose. I realized I could not change what had happened, and I had a wonderful baby as my miracle. I went on with my life, trying to start all over. Next time, I knew I would do it the right way.

Relationships and dating were never really what I would call difficult. I never understood why people thought it was. I had no problem finding dates or men wanting to date me. The problem was that I had no clue how to really “date.” I met a guy and it was immediately all or nothing. Either he was “the one” or he was not. If he was not, I had no reason to even go out on a date with him. If he was then I had no reason to waste time dating, just plan the wedding. That part scared away the good ones, because it was during the time of waiting to set the date that I realized many of the men I thought were “the one” were not even close to it. Of course, those relationships ended before the actual marriage took place. It was an interesting concept for me because I had male friends up until I grew into what looked like a woman. Then the male friends could not do things with me because their girlfriends did not “like” them to be with me. Having male friends became difficult. It literally became impossible for a very long time. Having platonic male friends is something I am only now beginning to enjoy once again.

Having my own child with me was more of a joy than a burden. Of course, I was now living at home, with my parents helping me take care of the baby, and that is why it was relatively easy. He was a colicky baby and I felt it was my fault for not breastfeeding, but the thought of breastfeeding was gross and embarrassing for me. Trying to do it in public was impossible. I tried when I was in the hospital, but was too unsure to really put in the effort. For six months he cried almost constantly, unless he was laying on my belly and chest. He would literally throw up three of every four ounces I fed him. He was losing weight instead of gaining. Love was all I thought I needed to give. I learned that even though breastfeeding may not be the most pleasant thing for me to do it was definitely better for the health of the baby, and I put that piece of knowledge in my library of books in my head labeled “next time.”

I was never aware of the developmental milestones and barely managed to get him to the checkups that he needed. I refused to put him in school because I knew he was going to be stuck in it as soon as he turned five and had to go. I was reckless with my own life still. When I left the house, I forgot I had a baby to take care of and went back to the life I knew before, wandering. He was about seven months old when something inside of me clicked. Suddenly I heard him cry; I was not home, but I heard his cry and realized that I was connected to this baby and I had to take care of him. I believe this has something to do with maternal instincts and it helps women on the autism spectrum connect with the world outside ourselves. I have wondered if this is something the males in the spectrum cannot physically experience as easily—the human connection. This topic was the subject of discussion with a male friend of mine on the spectrum. He has no feeling of being connected with anyone or anything on the Earth. It was a conversation we were having specifically about children. He loved children, too, but did not feel connected to them, and imagined if he ever did have any he would still feel the same.

I visualized my life as a helium balloon. I was that big red balloon floating all over the world until my baby was seven months old. That is when my string touched the Earth and I became grounded, with a reason to be a part of this world and the human race. I was almost eighteen as I felt this, and it took almost twenty more years before I could begin to apply it to my life.

Being a woman on the spectrum of autism has alleviated the challenge of finding people to date, but it seems to have increased the possibility of finding what I have recently learned are called “predators.” I had come to my own conclusion recently, based on the society I have lived in, that everyone is a trying to sell something to me when they are communicating. They are either trying to get me to buy their product, or buy them, and of course, they want my product for free. This is a cruel opinion, according to some—even harsh in my own opinion, but it is based on the past and not on my present situation. I am looking forward to the next revelation as I venture forward into my life. Until then, the facts of my life lead me to believe this statement. Basically I would buy almost any story. I could always see the potential in any person I met and the good that radiated from them, even if no one else could see it. When I could see it I would invest fully in that person hoping that they would see it, too, and build on it. I would do this without realizing that most people would be able to “see” or “know” what the guy’s intentions were.

Adding to this challenge is the fact that I am very disconnected with the emotional and physical aspects of feelings. Meaning that how something feels physically and the emotion I attach to it may not be properly connected. The way I feel things with my senses may not be the same as how the majority of people feel things, but it is definitely like the way other people on the spectrum feel things. I had heard the term “Sensory Integration Dysfunction” (SID) in my attempt to relate to autistic individuals. I could understand why it made sense and may have helped many people begin to understand the differences those of us on the spectrum experience. I personally felt challenged by that concept because it was almost too simple. The way that people “process” things is very complex, and is related to the nervous system and other “systems” that scientists have yet to discover. I had been working on my own “processing” for a very long time, and it was not simple to explain the complex reasons behind why I do things or how I do things; if it were simple I would have already “fixed” it. I had already changed many things, but “fixing” was too complex, since no one knew what needed to be “fixed.” I look forward to the day when we will all understand the “difference” even if, by then, many of us have realized that we do not need it to be “fixed.”

I can laugh at some of the past situations now and wonder how could I not “see” what I was doing. I also know that I could easily end up doing the same sort of things again because the people, places, or situations always “look” different than the exact situation I was in before. This is also why I sometimes avoid things that might actually be beneficial. Now I guard myself with information and try to have a circle of friends that understand autism or Asperger’s, in order to have a protective barrier. There are not enough people that understand it well enough to help us, yet. There are not enough of us that understand it well enough to protect ourselves fully, yet. There are not enough support systems in place, yet. So what has happened to me is still happening to others—on a regular, daily basis. My eldest child is making many of the same mistakes I made because I had not yet learned from my own. He is giving me the opportunity to work with him again, but that does not mean I am prepared enough; just more prepared than before. When my first child turned two years of age, my parents decided to move more than 1300 miles away. I was told that I could come with them if I
really
wanted to. I was also told that they
really
did not have room for me, or enough money to afford a place big enough for my child and me. Once again, another interesting opportunity, and an event in my life that could have gone better, if only we had known more about autism.

I hear professionals say that we need to learn how to “mind-read” and that there are books and computer programs on the subject. Yet I thought I could read minds very well. I could tell by my mother’s words and tone of voice that she had no desire to have us move with her. The message was clear that we were not wanted. The message was always “clear” in my mind. I have had these kinds of situations all my life. Because I had many situations like this in my own home, I learned very early to listen to what my mind hears, and not what people are saying. I began gathering evidence to prove my theories and I was always right. My intuition was right: I could read minds. When the “professionals” claimed that people on the spectrum needed to learn to mind-read, I began to doubt that I was on the spectrum. I have come to realize that we need to learn to “face-read,” not “mind-read” and that there is another “mind” we are not hearing. Perhaps it is the “conscious” mind of others. However, not too long ago, a friend presented other information to me that made sense, and I am reconsidering my ability to mind-read.

I did not understand what was going on at the time my parents moved. I had depended on them more than I realized. The saying “you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone” was on my mind while at the same time I had no desire to go with people that I knew did not want us. Many times in my life I have looked back and wondered why my mother said the things she did, or did the things she did. Why did she agree to help me with the baby when I told her I was keeping it? Why did she choose to say yes instead of opening a discussion of what I was going to be faced with? I tried many times as an adult to question her, to find out what her motives were. What was she thinking and doing? Each time I did anything to try to improve our relationship it only made it worse. Just over a year after their move, my father died suddenly. Another person had disappeared from my life, and that is why I married my first husband.

This time I was doing it right, I thought. I was married and got pregnant several months later. I would have really benefited from having a mentor in my life who would ask me the questions that I did not know how to ask myself: Why? What? Now that we are beginning to learn more about autism/Asperger’s I hope that things will change for the better for all of us. I hope that things will change enough so that my life can be an inspiration, not something to fear. That the experiences I have had will help others understand why they need to acknowledge that girls, too, have autism/Asperger’s. It may not fit the classic definition but we do share three common traits with everyone else on the spectrum: language challenges, social challenges, idiosyncrasies (such as obsessions or compulsions). After receiving my diagnosis, many images and episodes in my life began flooding back in my mind, as if they were demanding to be properly filed. One such memory was of a time when I was in my special school. Several of the teachers would tell me that I had to say something more than “hello,” which is all I knew how to say when I saw someone I liked (which was only a few of the teachers). They recognized a social problem but did not recognize what to do about it or what the real problem was.

The woman that helped me to come to terms with my diagnosis pointed out how a simple act by a “pretty young woman” toward a man with “impure” intentions would naturally lead to the situations I found myself in. The reality is that many of us are still going through the same challenges. We often get through life by maintaining a facade of what people call “normal” and we do have some successful moments. Inside, we are dying to get out, but have no clue how. We instead find joy in pure solitude, sometimes to the point of complete withdrawal from the world. When that happens no one understands why or how to get us back, least of all ourselves. Sometimes the very people we love the most are the ones causing the problems because they do not understand the logic of our thinking. The key that opened doors for me was the correct and accurate diagnosis that I have Autism Spectrum Disorder.

Some women are subjected to more abusive relationships than I was, which makes it hard for them to get out alive. Some of the women end up in prisons, or shelters, or homeless. Some end up in the mental health system labeled as “mentally ill.” Every time I was at the point of withdrawal and in need of complete solitude, those around me could not comprehend my need, so they could not support it. Instead, they made it worse. Services under the heading of any mental diagnosis made it worse. I would take their diagnosis and work with it, but it never made sense and it never made a difference. I recall happily announcing that I had depression to a few friends and they all just looked at me with total disbelief. I can understand why. I was always cheerful, happy, and what some called vivacious. Of course then when I tried to explain this to a psychiatrist I was told I must be bi-polar. I was extremely frustrated but worked with that one for a while too. It did not fit. Of course being a “mental” patient I had no authority to make rational or logical decisions because of my own “illness.” The system that was set up to help me was, in fact, making me worse. I am sure it was not their intent; they just did not know how and still do not.

I was only 20 years old and happy to be having another baby, my baby girl this time. It seemed logical to me that I would have a girl. I already had my boy, so of course it would be a girl. What I could not understand was why I was so extremely irritable and short tempered with everyone around me. I did not recognize that my son was having challenges in areas that might have been picked up by what we now call early intervention. I worked evening shifts so I would have to leave him with anyone I could find. I had no reason to enforce a bedtime, and didn’t have any understanding why it was needed. There were no set rules and we ate when we wanted and what we felt like eating. Standards of nutrition were beyond my ability to comprehend. As long as there was food, I thought I was doing fine. Only during my pregnancy did I even think about eating well and I did take a vitamin. I also quit smoking for the babies. I went back to it after having them. As they got older and I learned more, I would choose to not smoke in the house. I realize that part of this was due to the messages society was sending us. My father had cancer and smoking was beginning to get the blame. I still had to go back and forth several times before realizing how bad it made me feel. Work relationships became impossible while I was pregnant, and I thought it was related to my pregnancy. I had no reason to think I was unhappy. Another example of my inability to connect how I was feeling emotionally and physically with the situation and circumstances I was in. Now I can understand because I am not in it. I was divorced and raising my two children before my baby girl was four years old.