Catching Up Part Three: Me

Warning: Can of worms about to be opened.

The last 12 months have been the most important of my life. And I once wrote that after the dust had settled I wasn’t sure what would be left of me, who I would be. So now that the dust has settled where am I at? Well, to put it simply I’m not on top of my game yet, but I’m doing a whole lot better.

I now understand that autism isn’t the end of the world. It’s just a different world. And a world I actually grew up in and already lived in without realising. And I know that that’s ok, I’m not 100% ok with it yet, but I intend to be and I know that’s where I’m heading. I’ve spent most of my life with my head in the clouds, one foot in reality, one in fantasy, pretending to be someone else somewhere else, playing normal as best I could, blagging my way through school and university and work, escaping into daydreams to avoid certain truths I didn’t want to face.

I’m now in the process of reclaiming and reintegrating all those denied, neglected parts of myself, getting them out in the open and airing them off. For the first time ever I’m not blagging my way through life, I’m not lying to myself about how I really feel, who I really am.

I’m working on accepting myself rather than trying to reinvent and outrun myself. I need to work with what I’ve got rather than pretending to possess attributes I don’t have and struggling to keep up the façade. I know I can go further this way.

It’s exciting and it’s positive and still the hardest thing I’ve ever done. You see I’ve always felt there was “just something about me,” something wrong and I shudder at the thought of my children ever feeling that way about themselves. I want them to be proud of who they are, proud of where they’re from. I want them to know how amazing they are and understand their true worth. And I need to find this in me so they can find the same in themselves. This is perhaps the greatest challenge of all. Acceptance.

It isn’t that I don’t know who I am, we’re not going down that line, it’s about being honest with myself about who I am, not denying or berating myself for my true feelings and opinions, having the courage to be myself and to follow, to express my passions. Respecting myself. And that includes having respect for my limitations and being kind to myself, gently encouraging myself through the situations I find hard rather than beating myself up over them. That old cliché about being my own best friend.

But underneath all this is a longing to just be able to be me and I don’t feel like I know how to be that yet; to be able to speak without stumbling over my words, to be able to dance when I feel like it without getting paralysed with self-consciousness, to be able to burst into song when my heart is singing, or to even cry openly when I feel sad, to shout at people if they hurt me. I hold it all in, bottle everything up. It’s like I’m trapped inside myself. And when I do make myself speak, I feel like a loose cannon, a little uncontrollable, you should hear all the stupid shit that comes out. I often walk away from situations wondering why on earth I said something I just said. I get so incredibly self-conscious I can barely speak.

I don’t know if I’m really shy and awkward and afraid to speak my truth because I dislike of who I am deep down inside and I’m afraid to let that person out? Or is it that I dislike myself because of my tendency to be shy and awkward? I tie myself in knots on this as you can see.

Underneath it all is the longing to be able to connect with people more easily, to feel part of the human race. I’m scared of being lonely and I’m scared of being around people who I can’t be myself around, which is even lonelier… Welcome to the wonderful world of autism.

See, I’m not there yet. This post has unravelled. Rather like my head. I should probably mention I’m on a waiting list for counselling. That recently I’ve found my fuse is so short because I’m this mass of frustration and confusion, I keep exploding, viciously, venom spewing from me in a way that makes me feel ashamed afterwards.

The dust is settling, but the real journey is only just beginning.