Why I Struggle to Write Blog Posts

I'm not a very prolific blogger.  I very rarely write more than one blog post a week and, even then, I'm often 'late' posting it.

Largely, this is because my days consist of a torrent of noise and demands from the cubs.  Even if I am sat not really 'doing' anything, I'm unable to focus on something for more than a few seconds without an interruption from one of the boys (even when they're watching a film I have a constant barrage of: 'Mummy, who's that man?  Is that the girl's daddy?  My daddy doesn't have glasses!  Why is she running?  Is that her house?  Where is it?  Where's her mummy?'...etc.).

However, I have another problem with getting blog posts written, which means I suspect I'd struggle even if my life wasn't constantly punctuated by having to separate the cubs when they fight, letting the dogs in, letting the dogs out, letting the dogs back in again, getting Tyger a drink, asking Bear if he'd like a drink to be told 'no', getting Bear a drink because actually he does want one after all...

I find it really hard to settle on a topic for my blog post.  And it's not because I can't think of one but because I think of too many.  I think of a subject and it's perfect and interesting and I start to construct the post in my mind and it's going really well and maybe I even think of a couple of humorous asides to add...and then I think it's getting too long and I should focus down on one point...but then I realise other people might disagree with that point and I start to think about why so I can preempt them and rebut them before they can even make the point...but then I start agreeing with this opposite stance I'm trying to argue against and wonder if I should write about that instead and...it all becomes too complicated.

Last week I tried to write a blog post about autistic 'shut downs' (as opposed to meltdowns).  I was really interested and asked quite a lot of people I know in real life and online if they'd come across them or suffered from them and how they presented and everything.  I wrote most of a post.  It's still sitting there in my drafts but...I got stuck somehow.

I didn't like the post.  It seemed too...bitty.  The structure was all wrong and there was no humour and I gave up and posted this list of funny things I've said to the cubs in a panic instead.

So, this week I thought I'd finish the post about shut downs.

But I have this block about it now.

Even my pen's against me.

I kept trying to get into it but ended up procrastinating and generally browsing online and saw this blog post has been doing the rounds: She Divorced Me because I Left Dishes By the Sink by Matt at Must Be This Tall To Ride.  I suggest you read it but for anyone who hasn't/doesn't it's a post about how ostensibly his wife divorced him because he left dishes by the sink but actually it was a bigger issue of him refusing to accept that to her his repeated refusal to do something that took so little effort on his part but was important to her symbolised a complete lack of love and respect.

I read it and liked it and immediately started to have ideas for a blog post of my own.  I'll give you a heavily cut down inner dialogue of my thought process (I won't include all the interruptions involving the cubs but, needless to say, there were many):

I wonder why it is so often women who get wound up by mess and clutter and why men - generally speaking - don't seem to care or even see it.  Maybe I could write about why women feel this pressure?  Yes!!  I'm not naturally a clean or tidy person at all but Wolf and I still have those same sorts of problems.  Why do I care?  I do feel calmer in a tidy environment and it does help reduce my anxiety but I guess it's largely to do with 'what other people will think'.

I'll write about that and how women are still looked down upon and seen as failures if they don't keep on top of housework.  It doesn't matter what else they do or whether they're innately neat people.  And women are conditioned to judge themselves by how their house looks and if someone comes round it will be the woman they consciously - or subconsciously - 'blame' if it's not up to scratch.  And there are assumptions made about how good a wife or mother or just person she is based solely on whether she's...dusted or hoovered or whatever.  So, of course men don't understand the big deal; they've never had the same pressure put on them.  It's acceptable - and even funny and endearing - for men to be messy.

Actually, that's reminded me I wanted to write a post about how female Aspies differ from male Aspies and how so many of our anxieties come from having been conditioned by society to try to keep people happy...so we feel a constant sense of guilt and are always trying to keep everyone happy despite knowing we're not always socially intuitive.  That's what I'll write about.  I've been wanting to write that post for a few weeks anyway.

Maybe I can sort of include both the thing about keeping a clean house and...no, it's getting too complicated!

No, I won't write about women on the autistic spectrum, anyway; I was going to take a break from writing about ASD for a week or so.

Okay, back to that post about the glass by the dishwasher...I could link to it...but what if Wolf thinks this is a passive aggressive message to him by posting something like that?  Hmm...I wonder what he would think of the post.

I wonder if there's any equivalent thing I do...or don't do?  Maybe DIY.  I could write about DIY and how I tend to just leave it to him without thinking about it.  Is that the norm and is it really equivalent?  Although, I have put up flatpack furniture.  And there was that time I put up a spice rack on our larder door.

I liked that spice rack.  It wasn't expensive but it did the job it was supposed to do.  I should have removed it from the door when we sold that house; now, I'll have to buy a new spice rack and there's a good chance the people who bought the house didn't even keep it.  Poor spice rack.

'What did I do wrong?  Did I not hold your spices?'

I don't want to write about that glass by the dishwasher thing anymore.  I've overthought it now and I don't even know if I could add anything worth writing.  Is it even okay to write a blog post about a blog post?

What can I write about?

I'll write about this.  This right now.  I'll write about how I talk myself into and out of writing about a million different things before settling on one!

I could do an inner monologue type thing and...but is that a bit boring?  Will anyone even want to read such ramblings?  Isn't it a cop out to write a blog post about not being able to choose a topic for a blog post?

Ah, frack it.  I'll just write the Goram thing before I end up without anything at all.


There you go.  I probably do this with everything in my life, actually, and not just blog posts.  No wonder I feel perpetually exhausted but never get anything done.

Please tell me I'm not the only over-thinker out there?  (And also let me know if you'd actually quite like to read a post on any of the garbled half-thoughts above and I'll do my utmost to write one!)

Linked with:

Has Autism Increased?

If you go on any parenting forums and read threads about ASD - and if you don't I can assure you I do it more than enough for both of us - you'll know it's only a matter of time until someone makes a comment about autism being more common 'these days'.

Sometimes it's worded as an accusation and mentions the 'overdiagnosis' of autism or using ASD as 'an excuse for bad parenting'.  Other times it's a genuine question about whether autism is more common these days (and, if so, why or, if not, why it seems more common) from someone who is curious.

It's hard to give a definitive answer but I certainly have a good idea based on observation and reading up obsessively quite a bit on the subject.  If there's one thing I'm good at it's prattling on about ASD so here we go.

Firstly, no, the answer is not in any way connected to the Goram MMR vaccination.

I think there are several interlinked reasons for the apparent rise in ASD.

Professional understanding of ASD has increased to the point where many more people with Asperger's are being recognised and diagnosed now.  That doesn't mean they didn't exist before; in fact, I wrote a post last week about the realisation I'm probably on the spectrum.  Now, in times past (and even in my own childhood only a couple of decades ago) there's no way anyone would have thought I was autistic.  A bit weird, yes.  And with my slightly 'hippy/alternative' taste in clothes and green hair they probably still think I'm 'that odd mum with the unicorn hat'.

On the one hand, I'm not so odd I bought the hat; Wolf bought it for me.
On the other, he got it because I had an imaginary unicorn friend as a child...
which is perhaps slightly odd.

Going back further, my dad is also very definitely autistic but we didn't understand that until relatively recently (the last few years).  For a long time there were things about my dad that didn't seem to quite fit.  He's a nice person and good husband and father...who sometimes comes out with the most bizarrely unthinking/insensitive remarks (a couple directed at me have been, 'are you really tired or is it just your makeup?' and, 'what's going on with your hair?').

He has a professional job in a highly-paid position with lots of responsibility but if something disturbs his morning routine (having to clean up cat sick, his keys being in a different place etc.) he's completely thrown for the day.

As a child I also remember him getting incredibly annoyed with me for being too loud but he would go about the house whistling and clapping himself even when people were trying to have conversations.

So many 'inconsistencies' and 'quirks' in my dad's character make complete sense in the context of ASD.  There is absolutely no way anyone would have thought to use the word 'autistic' to describe my dad when he was a child - it would have been laughable - but he would more than qualify for a diagnosis now.

Even our cats are starting to look into it...

It's not just the Asperger's 'end of the spectrum' professionals understand better.  More and more research is being done into ASD in general and children and adults with 'classic autism' are being given much more support.  Families being given more assistance means there's a higher chance of autistic children attending mainstream schools and less need for them to be put into residential care homes (though, of course, some parents do still have to make this incredibly difficult decision).  ASD is generally more visible as people see it less and less as something shameful and/or simply unknown.

I had a friend at school whose brothers are autistic but it's only in more recent years I've learned this.  At the time I didn't know why they didn't live with her and her parents full time.  All I knew was they had 'something' that meant they needed extra help and support.  I was completely ignorant and I didn't ask (which I probably should have done).  I hope, even in the decade that's passed since then, awareness of ASD has grown to the point where teenagers now would be more likely to know what autism is and feel they could ask questions.

The rise of the internet has helped massively.  It gives people a place to talk about their ASD - or their kid's ASD - anonymously.  Social media means stories about people on the spectrum are often shared and read quite widely.  People on the spectrum often find text based communication much easier than face to face/spoken communication so you're probably more likely to have a long conversation with an autistic person on an internet forum than in 'the real world', too.

All of this: the greater understanding, the higher rates of diagnosis, social media and the internet in general adds to the perception that ASD is more common than it used to be.  But it's just that: a perception.  The reality is autism has always been there but we wrote off autistic people as 'weird', 'eccentric', 'quirky', 'rude', 'stupid', 'naughty' and a whole host of other derogatory adjectives.

I like to think that's all changing.

Linked with: 

Am I Autistic? Take Two

I don't like lying.

With this in mind, I'm sorry if I have deceived you.

I wrote a blog post titled Am I Autistic? over six months ago.  My conclusion was I exhibited a lot of ASD traits/behaviours but no, I absolutely was not actually autistic.

Huh.

It seems I may have thought I wasn't autistic but others - specifically my parents and Wolf - are of a differing opinion.  Not necessarily at the time of me writing the blog post but certainly more recently.  We had a conversation about ASD a few weeks back (a pretty regular occurrence in this household) and it came up.  Since then, I have read up a bit more on females with Asperger's and have even taken a pretty good online test...with the conclusion I probably am autistic.

Wolf said he thought I knew.  I didn't.  I knew they joked about it but I didn't realise they were serious.  Not that it's in any way autistic to not get when someone's joking...or anything...

I've started to assess my behaviour in the way I do with Tyger and it's a little disconcerting.

There are certain things it seems I do - and probably have done for years - that I was totally oblivious to.  Apparently, I violently rub my face when stressed.  I also bite my thumbs (not like some Shakespearean character trying to insult someone in a rival family but biting down on the knuckle absent-mindedly).

Like this.  Huh, looks like my teeth are off-centre...never noticed that before.

Having asked my parents what my most obviously autistic traits are they've said I'm obsessive, like routine and have always been a bit of a loner (and the close friends I have had have generally probably not been neurotypical themselves...and at least one of them reads this blog so...umm...not you, obviously...).

I don't know what they're talking about.  It's not like, when I was a teenager, I used to read through my Friends books listening to my Friends CD with my Friends poster staring down at me and test myself on my Friends knowledge using my Friends daily calendar in between each episode of Friends...when I'd always make sure I had a mug of milk (Friends mug, of course) on my Friends coaster with the same number of biscuits in plenty of time so I could always clap along with the theme tune...on a Friday night...at home...with my family.  An obsessive, routine-driven loner!  Pfft.


This week I went to the first session of the 'EarlyBird' programme (a course for parents of young children with ASD).  What better place to start analysing myself for autism than on a course all about autism with a load of parents of autistic children?

First clue was how anxious I was about going.  New place, new people, not knowing what to expect - it's a lot to stress about and stress I did.  Queasiness and pressure on my head and face (somewhere between numbness and feeling like they were being squashed) seem to be pretty reliable signs of my anxiety.

Actually, Wolf has said I'm at my most autistic (he probably worded it differently, to be fair) when preparing to go somewhere new for a specific time.  I'm not sure exactly what I do!

Once there, I coped pretty well with going in (desperately trying to remember the direction from which I entered the building so I'd know which way to go at the end because I could get lost in a phone box) and meeting everyone.

I did almost have to leave the country and live as a hermit forever more after declaring the big hot water flask for tea and coffee was empty only to find out it needs pumping.  I valiantly stayed and didn't even curl up into a ball in the corner!

So, we began.

The room where the course is held has those horrid tube lights.

I have problems with light.  There are days when it's not hugely bright out but I find myself squinting and struggling to look up at all (not at the sun but just up near the sky), whilst everyone else is unaffected.  That's nothing compared to my problems with artificial lights, though, and certain colours of bulb that make everything seem either really saturated or unsaturated and I can't focus on anything properly.  It comes up in my dreams a lot and I spend a lot of my time feeling like I've suddenly gone from darkness to bright light and my eyes haven't adjusted yet and those lights didn't help.

There was constant noise, too: rain drumming on the roof, a video playing in the next room, people in the reception area.  It made it hugely difficult for me to focus on the video we had to watch.

And I noticed myself doing...things.

People with autism often have a problem with 'proprioception', which is your ability to know where your body and limbs are in space without having to look.  Sounds ridiculous, right?  How can you not know that?  That's what I thought until I realised at this course that I totally have problems with it.  I was sat there struggling with the lights and the sound and realised I was doing all these little things to keep me 'grounded'.  I was constantly rubbing my toes together, I had my legs crossed and was pressing the top leg into the bottom one really hard.  And I was constantly pinching myself, digging my finger nails into my hand, pushing my fingers together or stretching them really far apart.

What happened if I made myself stop doing all these things?  I really did feel like my body was floating, like I couldn't really feel my limbs without concentrating really hard on them and on the feel of the fabric of my clothes touching them.

I sat there listening to people talking about the sensory issues people on the spectrum have and they were talking about me.

Not that anyone would have known to look at me: they couldn't see inside my shoes at what I was doing with my toes, couldn't tell how hard I was pressing on one leg with the other, and it's easy to push your thumb nail into your hand so nobody can see.

See, just normal hands with fingers interlocked.
Except, I'm pressing the nail of that bottom thumb in my finger.

It was thought ASD was far more prevalent in boys than girls.  However, the more we understand about autism the more evidence suggests girls actually present in a very different way and tend to be very good at 'masking' their ASD.  When it comes to supposedly 'higher functioning' ASD, these girls' autism goes completely unnoticed until they reach puberty and then the combination of physical and emotional changes, the increased social pressure and the greater academic demands suddenly all combine to completely overwhelm them and that's the point at which - if they're lucky - they might get a diagnosis.

If I have ASD I have always been very good at masking it.  I have been so good at masking my autism, in fact, I've hidden it from myself.

What now?  What am I going to do with this information?

I don't think I'll try to get a diagnosis.  Not right now, anyway.  I will need to start pushing to get Bear diagnosed soon and I don't think I can cope with both.

What I will do is cut myself some slack.

I have always thought I was a terrible friend because I find it really hard to reply to messages or initiate contact or meet up.  I agonise over every 'hi, how are you' and response.  I start messages and never finish them because it's just too much.  Knowing there's a good chance I have a disorder that predominantly affects social interaction and communication makes me feel a little less guilty.

I'm not an uncaring friend; I'm autistic.

I have always suspected I'm a bad parent because at times I know I should be playing with the cubs and instead I am sat on my laptop.  I think actually my ASD means I get so overloaded by the boys' constant noise (which is part of their ASD) that I retreat and the only thing that stops me breaking down and crying in the bathroom is focusing on my laptop for a while.

I'm not an indifferent mum; I'm autistic.

I always thought I was useless because I don't do things I know I need to do like sorting out various insurance or phoning the hospital about something.  I knew I was physically and intellectually capable so didn't understand why I just couldn't bring myself to do these things until well after the point where they needed to be done.  Now, I understand my problems with executive functioning and anxiety - both elements of ASD - are probably to blame.

I'm not lazy; I'm autistic.

Knowing I'm probably autistic is enough at the moment.  It's a relief just knowing why I am the way I am.

Linked with:

It Was the Best of Christmases, It Was the Worst of Christmases

Christmas and New Year have been and gone and after a tumultuous lead up (since Christmas can be very overwhelming for kids on the spectrum as I wrote about here), I thought I'd give a quick update on the last couple of weeks in the Nym household.

Tyger's ASD means everything is either the best or the worst.  There's no nuance, no grey, no in between.  My sister has always been much the same.  Any big events like Christmas, birthdays, performances, parties etc. are either euphoric successes or devastating failures.

According to Tyger this was, 'the best Christmas ever.'  It was only his fourth Christmas and I doubt he can remember any previous ones (perhaps for the best in the case of his first Christmas when he had an ear infection and slept through most of the day) so I can see how he reached his assessment.  However, this doesn't mean that every moment in the day was amazing...or even good.

Last year Tyger was completely absorbed by each present he got to the point where it was hard to get him interested in the next so other people opening presents wasn't a problem.  This year was...different.  He moaned constantly whenever someone else was opening a present and complained that he wanted a present.  In a household of eight people who go in for Christmas in quite a big way, this meant a lot of presents and so a lot of time spent moaning.

The whinging and whining culminated in Tyger opening a present from my sister (Colour Blind Sister, not Aspie Sister).  Now, Colour Blind Sister wanted to get Tyger a toy till, which was an excellent present idea.  Unfortunately, it was such an excellent present idea that the Wolf's parents wee already getting him one so CB Sister had to rethink.

Tyger opened the present from her.  It was a very cute, miniature wire shopping basket to go with said till.  He was unimpressed.  In fact he got extremely upset and angry and proclaimed he wanted a tiny shopping trolley like Aspie Sister and not a shopping basket.

The baskets and - clearly superior - tiny trolley.

Luckily, it turned out my mum had, in fact, bought Aspie Sister an identical basket (to go with the trolley) and quickly rummaged around the tree to give it to my sister so she and Tyger could be 'matching'.  Bear also has one from CB Sister and they seem to have been accepted, now.

All in all, Christmas was a success.  Tyger immediately looked to see if the mince pie, sherry and carrot left for Father Christmas and the reindeer were gone before even glancing at his stocking, which was very sweet.

Everyone in the house seemed happy with their presents.  I suspect Tyger's tablet will see a lot of use and he loves his bike.  The cubs have enough Duplo to rival the laundry basket mountain in quantity, which is pretty impressive.

Wolf and I also got the cubs a 'Bilibo' each.  Whilst they're great for all young kids, they came highly recommended in particular for kids with ASD on a forum I frequent.  I daren't try to describe them because I've already had the piss royally taken out of me for my - apparently terrible - explanation when I first bought them.  Instead, I'll include a photo.

I told Wolf they were, 'like spheres with a rounded triangle cut out of them.'
That's...ummm...sort of accurate right?

Bilibos (I promise I'm not on commission and I'm not popular enough yet to be asked to review products!) can be sat in and used for spinning and rocking.  Tyger also likes to climb on his when it's upside down and jump off it.  Apparently, they can also be used for games with balls and water.

The reason they're recommended for autistic children is they're great sensory toys that can provide a physical outlet when the kids are becoming overloaded (and these ones have also been decorated by stickers, which provided a little peace for me for a few minutes so they've already been very useful).  I did manage to avoid a meltdown a few days ago when Tyger was becoming fraught and I convinced him to let me spin him in his Bilibo.  Beforehand he'd been following Bear around trying to wind him up.  Afterwards he took Bear stacking blocks Bear had dropped.  It may seem small but I was very relieved!

Despite giving little to no inkling of what I wanted for Christmas (not because I thought it would be funny to leave everyone guessing but because I genuinely didn't know what I wanted) I was given some lovely presents.  I'm at home with the cubs pretty much all day everyday, my one real hobby (this blog) doesn't require anything I don't already have (a laptop) and we're living with my parents at the moment so I can't really do much with ornaments or household items.  As such, I'm kind of difficult to buy for right now but even so I got a lot of awesome clothes, a few Terry Pratchett and William Blake themed presents (Tyger's pseudonym on here is largely inspired by Blake's poem The Tyger and he's my favourite poet), three mugs (when you drink as much tea as I do these are extremely practical gifts likely to see far more use than most presents ever will) and - in the same vein - a big box of various teas of the world.  I have made a dent in the latter.

I don't know if Tyger will remember anything about this Christmas (I guess it's becoming increasingly likely any moment will be his first memory) and Baby Bear almost certainly won't but nonetheless I think this was an overall good Christmas.  I guess our 'ASD Christmas' turned out okay.

Linked with:

An ASD Christmas

I love Christmas.  As a child I made an 'advent calendar' to count down the days until my actual advent calendar started.  This is not some Scroogy post against Christmas.

I may or may not have bought this elf hat recently.

It is a pretty rough time of year on little kids, though.  I mean awesome and completely worth it but it's coming to the end of term so they're tired out and Christmas is hyped up so much and so far in advance it can be difficult for them to have to wait.

It's also pretty rough on people with ASD and I'd like to explain why.


1. Sensory Stimuli

The chance of sensory overload (a problem for many people with ASD at the best of times) is greatly increased around Christmas.  There are lights everywhere (often flashing), lots of bright colours and reflective surfaces.  There's Christmas music playing, people getting excited and shouting, lots of crowds and parties.  Even the smells are often different and overpowering (all the cinnamon and cloves and...just excuse me for a minute whilst I ask the Wolf to make some mulled wine) and there's new food and textures.

If you don't really understand what sensory overload actually feels like, I'll try to explain from my own experience.  I don't think I'm autistic but I'm very noise sensitive and whilst I don't think what I experience is as extreme as many autistic people it gives me a little insight.

I struggle with noise when I'm trying to concentrate or when there are two sounds at once.  For instance background noise (a song playing quietly) when I'm speaking on the phone, Tyger and Bear both shouting and banging, someone talking to me over the end credits of a film etc.  It feels like it impacts my other senses.  It feels like pressure on my head/face and/or like a blinding light being shone into my eyes.  I can't think whilst it's happening and I feel extremely agitated, distracted and hostile all at the same time.  It's really unpleasant.

That gives you an idea of what a milder version involving only one sense might feel like.  For people - especially children - with sensory issues, it's really rough.

Imagine this searing into your eyes whilst you try to stay calm.

2. Change of Routine

People on the spectrum tend to need a routine. A change to that routine can be hugely stressful.  School and preschool routines are invariably disrupted by nativity play rehearsals, Christmas parties, visits from Santa, games, Christmas films.  Weekends might be changed around to accommodate Christmas shopping or putting up decorations.  Family and friends come to visit, bedtimes and mealtimes become more lax and Christmas day itself can be chaos.

For kids on the spectrum, who have little control over their day to day routine as it is, this can feel very confusing.  It induces anxiety and a feeling of spiraling out of control.  They often rely on the predictability and sameness of their usual week so such massive changes to that can be devastating.


3. Social Expectations

A lot of people feel awkward when they have to open a present in front whoever bought it (I want to seem grateful but I don't want to overdo it so it seems false...was that smile natural...should I tell them I already have one of these?) but there are so many social expectations placed on someone on the spectrum at Christmas that most NT people don't give a second thought to.

Not only are Christmas parties loud and bright and a change from normal routine but they also involve social interactions outside of the usual (dancing, games, buffet style food).  Giving and receiving presents and cards also involves certain etiquette ASD kids might not be aware of (acting grateful if you receive a gift you don't like can seem like brain surgery to them).  Then, there's the big bearded man in red.  A lot of kids on the spectrum won't even sit on their parents' laps, let alone some stranger.

And let's face it: some depictions of Father Christmas
can be pretty creepy.

And the sheer quantity of socialisation expected is overwhelming.  Whether it's relatives visiting, carol singers calling round, nativity plays, Christmas fairs...there's people everywhere.  People talking and expecting eye contact and gratitude.  It's extremely draining.


4. Waiting

Ah, childhood.  Remember when summer holidays seemed to stretch out before you like an eternity?  A week seemed like a month and a year might as well have been infinite.  That sense of time is great when you're doing something you enjoy as a child but when you have to wait for something?  It's agony!  I already mentioned my advent calendar to count down to December - I always felt like I was waiting for Christmas for years (now it seems I blink on Boxing day and another Christmas is imminently looming).

Well, children with ASD struggle with waiting even more.  Autistic children often find it really hard to fill their time.  It's not unusual for them to find 'playing' quite a difficult thing to do and so they get bored very easily.  Add to this the obsessive nature of many kids on the spectrum and the fact they're not good at judging time that's passed and when future points might be reached and waiting for Christmas becomes a nightmare.



I started writing this post before Tyger had a huge - and public - meltdown after his preschool nativity play.  It's one of those occasions where hindsight's a wonderful thing.  I'd put him down for both the Christmas party and nativity because I didn't want him to be left out but I knew it might be tough.

Tyger seemed to cope pretty well until right near the end of the play.  He asked to get down from the stage.  The preschool had made it very clear this was supposed to be fun for the children and they weren't precious about everything being perfect at the expense of the kids' comfort.  Whether the children joined in, wore costumes, stayed on stage, took a parent on stage with them were all down to the children and what they needed so I knew nobody would mind me stepping forward and getting Tyger (he'd asked to get down several times by that point).

Now, what I should have done is take him away completely for some space and some quiet (I even had his ear defenders with me and should have offered him those).  But, I wasn't sure if he wanted to join in with the remaining songs and would be upset to be taken away completely and there were a lot of parents filming the play and I didn't want to get in their way anymore than I had.  So, I sat with him on my lap in the aisle.  He seemed okay.

Then came the raffle.  At that point I really should have left but I had a strip of tickets.  I think Tyger thought they were handing out presents for everyone.  I tried to explain about raffles and prizes but this prompted him to say he couldn't wait for his 'surprise'.  When it ended and we left sans prize (or 'surprise') he started crying...and crying...and shouting.  We got to the car and he refused to get in.

All the other parents traipsed by with their tired but happy children and Tyger cried and wailed and begged me to take him back for his surprise.  I tried to soothe him, I tried being stern, I tried bribery.  But a meltdown is not so easily stemmed.

Cakes!  You can have all the cakes!

I managed to force him into his car seat.  Once home, he refused to get out of the car but - again - I just about managed to force him.  He carried on crying for sometime and I knew the meltdown was starting to ebb when he sobbed, 'Mummy, I can't calm down.'  That's always a sure sign he's ready to stop but doesn't know how.

I blew in his face.  That may sound stupid but when he was younger and had a meltdown he'd hold his breath and I was advised to blow in his face to make him breathe again.  He remembers that and sees it as a way for me to 'stop' him these days.  It only works once he's ready and I always ask his permission.

It was like a switch and he was okay.  It was all out.  The build up of all the noise and lights and people, the strange feel of the costume and the disruption to routine, the anxiety and the frustration and even the excitement and the joy.  It had been let out and he was tired but calm.

I love Christmas.  I love the over the top, gaudy, brightness.  I wouldn't ask anyone to give any of that up.

What I would ask, though, is that you reserve judgement.  When you're out Christmas shopping and a child is throwing a tantrum about their parents not buying them something, please don't tut and roll your eyes.  Perhaps they're some 'spoiled brat' or perhaps they're a child who is tired and overloaded and just can't cope with the crowds and the lights and the noise (autistic or not).

If there's a child at a Christmas party who's hanging back from the merriment, don't immediately try to jolly them into joining everyone else (as well meant as that may be).  First, maybe check if they need a moment away from the noise to calm down.

If you're holding a little Christmas get together and your neighbour's niece is refusing the buffet you've laid out she might not be rude.  Maybe she's struggling with everything and she can't handle the thought of strange flavours and textures on top of everything else.  Offer to put a round of toast on for her or see if she'd have a couple of crackers instead of getting annoyed.

For many autistic people it's the build up of lots of little things that culminates in a meltdown.  A couple of small kindnesses can mean the difference between hours of crying and shaking and a happy memory.

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Who's More Autistic?

I wrote about my growing certainty Bear has ASD in a post a few weeks ago (What If There Was a Cure For Autism?).  It has thrown up some interesting considerations for me.  The cubs are brothers with not even two years between them and both have ASD/Asperger's but there are some significant differences in how their ASD presents.

Tyger doesn't 'appear' to be autistic to the untrained eye.  His language has always been ahead for his age and whilst that's not actually uncommon for kids with Asperger's, a lot of people still only know about non-verbal ASD kids or, at least, those with a language delay.

Bear, on the other hand, is clearly very bright but struggles with his language.  He's come on leaps and bounds in the last week or two but still struggles to enunciate and often resorts to grunting, a string of vowel sounds and calling everyone 'Daddoo' or 'Daddy' (though, he has attempted other names - including Mummy!).

Tyger holds in a lot of his more autistic traits whilst around anyone he doesn't live with and a lot of his autistic behaviours are slightly a-typical.  He does his 'verbal stimming' but very few people would actually realise this was an autistic thing, even if they were vaguely aware it was a bit 'off'.

Bear's ASD behaviours are both more visible and typical.  He flaps his hands a lot when he's excited or frustrated and he walks around on tiptoes a lot of the time.  He licks the wall, stove and flagstones and scratches and hits his own face when upset.

Basically, Bear currently looks 'more autistic'.

So, what does this mean?  Will Bear have a harder life ahead of him?  Is his ASD more 'severe'?

I actually suspect it might put him at a slight advantage.  Getting Tyger a diagnosis proved to be a challenge because, whilst the medical professionals recognised his autistic behaviours, other people involved in his care (who were consulted in his diagnosis) didn't see any ASD behaviours from him.  Bear has an older brother with a diagnosis alongside his more 'classic' autistic behaviours so will hopefully get that piece of paper more easily.

But it's not just the diagnosis I suspect might be easier.

Tyger is highly anxious and that's why he 'masks' his ASD when around anyone outwith the family (because he desperately wants to fit in).  He moderates his own behaviour outside the house but it's very tiring for him and often means he's exhausted by the time he gets home and more likely to have a meltdown.

Bear only seems to show anxiety when something in his usual routine or placement of things/people is off (and, even then, it's often anger more than anxiety!).  I hope as he gets older he'll actually be able to cope quite well as long as he has a good routine in place.  I don't think - though, it's obviously early days yet - he'll be as likely to hold everything in as Tyger.  If he's able and willing to do whatever he needs to in order to help stop him becoming overloaded (like the hand flapping or any other stimming) he might find things easier than Tyger.

It's interesting to think about what people consider to be more or less 'severely autistic' and how that translates when it comes to the quality of life the person with ASD actually leads.

The temptation is to think of ASD as a linear scale.  I mean, the 'spectrum' in autism spectrum disorder brings to mind a rainbow and the use of 'high functioning' and 'low functioning' (which many people find offensive, anyway) suggests it's as simple as starting at red and working through to violet.  Perhaps red is a non-verbal child who spends their day doing one repetitive activity in between meltdowns with lots of stimming and no eye contact.  That makes violet the slightly quirky but highly intelligent individual who is able to progress in a prestigious career and live totally independently.  Then all the other colours progress through from one to the other.

The truth is, it's not as simple as that.  That non-verbal child might start talking at the age of seven and end up living alone whilst holding down a job.  The employable aspie might have meltdowns nightly from the stress of their job and self harm from the anxiety it causes them.  Who, in this scenario, is 'more' autistic?  And who has the better quality of life?

Of course, those are extreme examples but not unheard of.  A very common scenario is for autistic school children to have what's known as 'spiky profiles'.  This means they excel in some subjects and areas whilst being far behind average in others.  In other words, they are unpredictable and hard to fit into a box.

Many non-verbal children do end up communicating.  Some start talking, others use picture cards, some use sign language and some find they can type (sometimes incredibly eloquently).  Many apparently 'high functioning' autistic people are never able to live independently, struggle with seemingly simple tasks and have a host of mental health illnesses almost certainly linked to their ASD.

Many people on the spectrum tick boxes at either end of the scale or simply a range in between.

I'm not saying there is no point in terms like high and low functioning ASD (though, I am more comfortable using 'Asperger's' and 'classic autism' as these seem to be far less offensive terms).  Nor am I even saying everyone with ASD has the same severity of autism.  I'm simply pointing out it's not black and white (of course not - it's a spectrum!) and that trying to determine 'how autistic' people are is not important.

Linked with:

What If There Was a Cure for Autism?

About five months ago I wrote this blog post about Baby Bear and my growing suspicion that he - like Tyger - has ASD.

So, have I changed my mind in the interim?

No.

I am surer and surer with every week that passes.  Baby Bear is autistic.

There are many reasons I'm so sure Bear (I really need to stop calling him 'Baby Bear' at some point given he hasn't technically been a baby for almost eight months now) has ASD.  He walks on tiptoes a lot, he flaps his hands when he's excited or frustrated, he has some slightly 'odd' mannerisms like walking around with his head pressed against his shoulder as if he's keeping an imaginary phone in place without using his hands, the way he talks in mostly vowel sounds with very few consonants, he's funny about textures and has become more and more fussy with regards to food, and he has huge tantrums where he screams and screams for half an hour or more and scratches his face and hits himself and...you get the idea.

In the last few days I've been pondering how I feel already knowing Bear has ASD when he's still so young.  How do I feel about having two autistic children, what does it mean for Bear in the future, when should I start trying to get him a diagnosis?  But the main thing I've caught myself thinking over and over is, 'Does Bear do that because he's autistic or would he do it anyway?'

Bear can be quite violent (he might run over to me when I'm sitting on the sofa and suddenly bite me so hard it draws blood) and a week or so ago I pretended to cry after he'd hit me.  He seemed concerned and brushed my hair out of my face.  It was very sweet and it seemed to make sense that he wanted to study my face to figure out what was going on and how I felt.  But, a couple of days later, he hurt me again and - again - I pretended to cry.  This time I had my hair back in a ponytail...so he grabbed some of the loose bits and put them in front of my face before brushing them aside.  I can only assume he has seen me brush the hair out of Tyger's face when he's upset and Bear has decided that's just what you do when someone's crying.  Copying and repeating a social action without actually understanding the reasoning behind it?  Hmm...that's very autistic.

Or is it?  Maybe he did it that first time because he really did want to see my face and liked the fact I smiled so tried to recreate that sequence.  It doesn't really matter whether he did it because he's autistic or not but the fact I wonder so often is interesting and reminds me of a recent conversation I had with the Wolf.  He asked, if a 'cure' for ASD was discovered would I give it to Tyger.  Without really thinking I said 'yes'.

I suppose, at that point, I was assuming a 'cure' for ASD would be akin to taking antidepressants.  When I take antidepressants for my depression (which, incidentally, I wrote about last week) they help with the negative symptoms of depression but they don't change me as a person.  I do quite often feel a little 'spaced' for a week or so but past that I still quote Firefly and Game of Thrones at people, I still drink copious amounts of tea, I still feel socially awkward about strangers holding the door for me but I don't cry whenever the slightest thing goes wrong, I don't take hours to get to sleep.

I know highly you all regard my MS Paint skills.

But would it be the same for ASD?  If there was some 'antiautisant' would it simply take away Tyger's need for certain routines and distress at their change, would it just remove his anxiety, would it help with his sensory issues?  That would be great.  That would be Tyger without so much stress and worry and with fewer - if any - meltdowns.

Or would it stop all obsessive behaviour completely so he wasn't interested in hoovers anymore?  Would it reduce his anxiety to the point where he'd stop telling me he loved me all the time (I strongly suspect he tells me so often for the reassurance of hearing me say it back because of his anxiety)?  Would it mean his unique way of viewing the world would disappear along with the autism?

Would Tyger still have put the old, broken Dyson attachment on his
toy Henry Hoover if he wasn't autistic?

And would he still have decorated one of his Halloween cupcakes with
a Henry Hoover (that's apparently what you're looking at here...)?

Would it, as the Wolf put it, essentially 'kill' Tyger and leave us with a stranger in his place?

Because that's a chilling thought.

This is actually a very controversial debate among a lot of autistic people and the parents of autistic children and understandably, too.  It's unsurprising anyone with ASD who thinks their personality and identity are inextricable from their ASD would be offended by the very idea of something that would remove it.  On the other hand, it's equally understandable someone who feels every day is a battle because of their ASD would be in favour of making things easier.  Then there are the parents of children with 'regressive autism'.  Children with regressive autism often start talking and communicating and developing like their neurotypical peers but they suddenly stop talking, laughing, smiling and engaging in any social interaction at some point as a toddler.  When this happens, the parents - especially if they don't have any knowledge or experience of ASD - can feel like they've 'lost' the child they had.  Like that child has disappeared and been replaced by a different one.  Can you blame them for wanting the child they feel they've lost back, if only fleetingly?  In actuality they have not 'lost' their child but it's not surprising if that's how they feel at the point of regression.

Of course, whilst ASD is still so little understood it's impossible to say exactly what a 'cure' would entail and what it would actually do.

There's no way of knowing whether 'getting rid' of his ASD would stop Bear from brushing the hair from my face when I pretend to cry.  Or take away his cheekiness or his love of his favourite toy and his current obsession with the anime film Totoro.  Maybe it would just stop his violent, half hour tantrums.

Or maybe it would stop him from hiding when he's doing a poo.

It might make Tyger a better eater so he could have his food touching and would consider trying vegetables...or it might stop all his fascinating and quirky questions about how the world works.

Perhaps it would make it easier for my sister to attend college without becoming completely overloaded but it could completely change her interests and hobbies and all the things that make her...her.

To be honest, there's probably no point arguing over it right now because the truth is we just don't know.  That doesn't stop me analysing everything the cubs do, though, and wondering whether they do it because they're autistic or because of their personalities...or whether there's even a difference.

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Where Am I Going Wrong (or Right)?

Edit:  Thank you for all the responses and I have made a few changes accordingly.  If you would still like to comment you can give feedback on the current colours/background.

I was really pleased with last week's post where I interviewed my Aspie sister on what it's like to have ASD and her experience of meltdowns.  I was unsure how to top that this week.  A Halloween themed post?  An interview with my dyspraxic, colour blind sister?  Nah, I've decided to enlist your help instead.

At some future point I might self host my blog but for now I'm sticking with Blogger.  However, I am still a technophobe and still a bit clueless when it comes to this blogging business and I'm also hugely indecisive.  Picking what to have for lunch is often an angst-filled process so deciding on the look and content of my blog is just too much and I generally try to avoid thinking about it lest I have a break down.

It's okay, though, I've thought of a way round this!  I'll do what I often do at lunchtime and ask other people what they're planning to eat...or I'll ask other people what they think I should do with my blog (although, lunchtime is coming up so I'd be open to hearing your lunch options too).

Here we go.  I should warn you I am utterly useless when it comes to terminology for...websitey, bloggy stuff.


The Stripes

So, there should be tiger stripes down the sides of the blog.  You know, the backgroundy bit.  This is an example of my awesome MS Paint skills.  I know, I know, I said I was a technophobe then I drop this bombshell on you but I did indeed make those incredibly artistic and sophisticated stripes all by myself.

I actually quite like the stripes.  They fit with the blog name, they're kind of unpretentious, fun and childlike.  I don't like the fact they're not very symmetrical and sort of cut off at the right hand side but I'm not sure if that's dependent on the device you access the blog from and I'm sure it's fixable if I really put my mind to it.

Anyway, whilst I quite like them I'm open to other suggestions.  Or open to the idea of keeping stripes and making them a little more...realistic.  What are your thoughts?


The Horrid Colour Scheme

It's very...brown.  I think pretty much all other blogs I read have white behind the text and on the side bit where all the stuff about Facebook and Twitter go.  I have brown.

It's left over from when I first made the blog and didn't have the stripes and it looked a bit different (not very different, granted, because...all that stuff I said about decisiveness).  I did ask what people thought of the brown on my Facebook page and a couple of people said they liked it but this was going back to when I only had a few page likes - pretty much exclusively friends and family - as opposed to the still fewer than 100 many, many I have now.  White would mean I wouldn't have that annoying white border around photos and badges and...I want to say widgets or something (the Facebook and Twitter bits on the right...or, at least, on the right on a laptop or computer) but would it be too boring?

Do you like the brown with the off-white text?  This is the one thing I'm most likely to change but if it turns out everyone actually does genuinely love the brown I'd suck it up and keep it.  If not brown then what?  White?  There must be a reason it's the choice of most other bloggers out there!  Or a different colour?


Pictures

I imagine there's a way to get a photo somewhere here (other than in the actual blog posts).  Lots of other people do it.  I try to stay relatively anonymous on here because I'm writing largely about other people and predominantly about Tyger and Bear's lives so I won't put up a big picture of my face or anything.  However, I did get my lovely mum to take this photo for me to use as a profile picture for Facebook, Twitter and comments on here:

Do you think I should have this photo (or some other photo) somewhere at the top of the blog?


Content

I don't really have any hard and fast rules when it comes to the content of my blog posts.  I tend to write about ASD a lot and Tyger is often my protagonist but I also write about Bear, myself, other issues (like gender stereotypes and breastfeeding in public) and anything that happens to pop into my head.

So, if you have read a few of my posts, which do you prefer?  Is there anything you'd like me to write about more often?  Or something you'd like me to cover that I haven't written about yet?


Other Things I Don't Really Think About

Any other thoughts?  I lazily use the 'default font' on all my blog posts.  Should I pick something else (more decisions!)?  Should I add more photos to my blog posts?  Should I branch out more on social media (I know how to use Facebook and Twitter - everything else scares me but I'll give it a go if I really should)?  Does anything about my writing style really annoy you (I use parenthesis and ellipsis a lot, for one thing)?  Should I try to figure out how to have actual pages like an 'about me' section and all that jazz?  Or are there any other pieces of advice or criticism I haven't covered you'd like to throw my way?


I genuinely am - possibly foolishly - asking for honest opinions so please don't worry about offending me.  I'm not quite happy with the blog as is, which is why I'm addressing this in the first place.  I'd love answers in any form: in the comment section of this post, in the comment section on Facebook, as tweets to me on Twitter or even face to face if you're one of the lucky people who know me in real life.  Whatever's easiest for you!

*Sits back and awaits tumbleweed.*

Linked with:

Interview with the Aspie

I use this blog as a platform to raise awareness and understanding of ASD pretty often but - as I covered in my blog post here - I'm not autistic myself.  One of my sisters is, though, and she kindly agreed to let me interview her to allow me to fully communicate the perspective of someone on the spectrum.  My sister is only 16 and was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome just two and a half years ago.  On here I call her 'Aspie Sister' (with her full support - she doesn't see 'Aspie' as a negative term) so that's been abbreviated to 'AS' for the interview.

_________________________________________________________

Me:  I wanted to do this interview to give people a slightly better idea of what it's like to have autism and especially to have a meltdown because I think it's quite hard for people to imagine or to empathise with.  You got your diagnosis quite late, which is often the case for girls.  So, did you realised you might be different to your peers before then?

AS:  I think I always realised I was different.  Thinking back to year seven - I don't know why but I was going through a really weird phase - I'd always tell people I was insane and my password was always like 'iaminsane'.

Me:  I remember, actually, getting a text from you once saying, 'Am I normal?'

AS:  That rings a bell.

Me:  And I kind of brushed it off at the time.  I just said, 'Oh well, what is normal anyway?  Is anyone really normal and is being normal really such a good thing?'  Now - knowing - it shows you did have an idea you weren't neurotypical even if you wouldn't have known to phrase it like that.

AS:  Yeah.  I think one of the reasons I would always be like 'I'm insane' and I'd try to make a joke of it was because I was quite scared.  Because, I was like, 'I'm different.  I don't know what this is.  Why am I not like everyone else?'  I just tried to put this front up and I was all, 'Ah, I'm insane!  I'm so funny!'

Me:  Yeah.  'I'm just the crazy one.'  Like...the 'quirky friend' because that's obviously a 'thing' in TV shows so I guess you thought if you could embody that then it was still an accepted role in society?

AS:  Yeah.

Me:  How did you feel about the diagnosis, then?

AS:  I was so relieved.  Most people are like, 'It's not a good thing you've got a diagnosis.  Why are you happy you've got this label?'  But it is such a relief when I've been thinking I'm from a different planet.  I thought no-one was like me.  To have that and know there are other people like me is just such a relief.  It also meant I could get help.

Me:  You've had a lot of various support and it's worked to different degrees depending on how well the person trying to support you understands ASD.  There are some misguided attempts to help.  People quite often think they're helping by telling you to tell them when you're having problems, don't they?

AS:  Yeah.  Also I'm not good at speaking in person and teachers often say, 'I don't like emails much.  Just come up to me and talk to me about it.'  And I'm like, 'No, just let me email you.'  It really annoys me when they don't email back but then they come up to me and just start talking to me about it and I'm like, 'No!  No.'

Me:  Would you like to explain what having ASD actually means for you and your everyday life?

AS:  I don't know because it's quite hard when you have it and...it's just your life.  People always ask me, 'What's it like to be autistic?'  But, I don't know.  It's just how I am, how I see the world.  For me, I can't imagine anyone else seeing it in any other way.  It's like me asking other people, 'What's it like to be normal?'  I don't know.

Me:  The big thing I wanted to cover was meltdowns.  I was wondering if you could talk me through what triggers them.

AS:  For me it's usually something social.  If something goes really wrong in a social situation that can trigger it for me.  Or if something to do with my routine gets wrecked, especially if it's a routine I've had for a long time.  Like when I always used to have to have spaghetti on a Sunday and then I remember coming home one Sunday and Dad said, 'We're going to have a barbecue tonight.'  I was screaming and Mum and Dad didn't seem to understand why.  They were like, 'But you like barbecues.'  I think they struggled to understand why it was such a big thing for me.

Me:  Can you remember from meltdowns how you actually feel?

AS:  I guess you just feel very overwhelmed.  A lot.  It's quite hard to describe and it depends on why you have the meltdown.

Me:  So, it's not always the same feeling?  It varies?

AS:  Yeah.  And when you start to go into a meltdown you do start to lose control.  And there's this part of you that's like, 'No, stop it.'  You can see it's just silly and you shouldn't be doing it but it's just this tiny little voice and the rest of you is like, 'NO!  This is so important.'

Me:  So, there is a bit of you watching yourself from outside?

AS:  Especially if I'm in a group of people it's like, 'Stop it, stop it.  Everyone's going to look at you.  Stop it.'

Me:  But you can't?

AS:  I cannot.

Me:  It's not something you're doing out of choice.

AS:  No.  And I've noticed I have a lot of actions I just cannot control.  They just happen.  I often just randomly shake my head quickly - especially if anyone tries to talk to me.  I'll just shake my head: 'No.'  Obviously, there's that part of you that knows it's bad that then starts to get frustrated and then that comes out so you get angry and upset and everything.

Me:  So, it's like a loop?  It feeds into the meltdown?

AS:  Yeah and that's when, I think, other ASD people can get quite aggressive.  I don't tend to get aggressive but there have been times where I do get a little bit aggressive.

Me:  It's more just anger at yourself for not being able to stop it?

AS:  And then I can't control the anger and it sort of goes into this horrible cycle.

Me:  Do you typically cry?

AS:  I usually cry.  Usually there's lots of grabbing at myself and my hair - that's something I do a lot - and various shaking and tapping.

Me:  And I know you sometimes pace?

AS:  Pacing: definitely.  And then when the anger starts to build up I start to like, 'Argh!' (clenches her fists) And that's when I'm grabbing even more and sometimes I'll just be like...

Me:  And as you work through the meltdown you often collapse, it seems.  Does that happen a lot?

AS:  Yeah.  I think it all gets too much and I just can't seem to function anymore so I just collapse and cry.

Me:  It's interesting because you lose control but there's a part of yourself that says, 'Don't do this.'  When you're coming out of the meltdown does the voice gets louder or is it that you cry yourself out or...how does it end?

AS:  I usually just run out of energy.  When I was in year nine I used to say I'd run out of tears.  I'd just get to the point where I...couldn't anymore.

Me:  So, is there anything that can bring you out of a meltdown once it's started?  Or is that it and it's just going to run its course until you run out of energy?

AS:  I guess it depends on how bad the meltdown is.

Me:  And maybe where you are and who you're with?  Would you be more likely to come out of a meltdown when you're here, somewhere you're comfortable, and with - for instance - Mum?  Or, because you're comfortable, would you be more likely to let go and would you be more likely to hold it back when you're out with people?

AS:  I try to hold it back more when I'm out with people.  You want, so badly, to fit in.  You just hold it all in and that's often when - when I get home - it all comes out.  I used to find especially on Fridays when I'd had the whole week at school I'd often just end up crying.

Me:  So, after you've had a meltdown do you typically feel better than you did before or do you feel worse...or do you just feel numb?

AS:  I think it depends on where I am.  So, if it's out in public or something, I'd feel worse afterwards but if it's at home I usually feel better.  Sometimes it's just nice to let it all out.

Me:  During the meltdown, is there much in the way of thought?  You say there's a small part of yourself that is just thinking, 'Don't do this,' but other than that are you thinking much?

AS:  There aren't many thoughts but it often is a sort of cycle of what sent you into the meltdown but then it can start to reach out to other things so that makes the meltdown even worse because then you're like, 'And there's this wrong, and there's this wrong and this happened.'  I often keep saying, over and over, 'I'm sorry.'  Especially if it's with Mum or my boyfriend.  'I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.'  They'll say, 'Why?'  And I don't say anything other than, 'I'm sorry.'

Me:  Do you think you're sorry because you think you're putting all that on them?

AS:  Yeah.

Me:  Like you're burdening them?

AS:  I always feel like that.  Sometimes when I get upset about something and I'm talking to my boyfriend he says, 'Go and see your mum.'  And I'm like, 'No, I don't want to put another thing on her.  I can't do that to her.'

Me:  Finally, is there anything you wish more people knew about ASD?

AS:  Probably...that we are people as well.  Some people get scared of us.  People know of the ones who are quite aggressive and violent...or just because it's unknown to them so they get a bit scared.  Or some people just get very angry with people who have ASD and they're like, 'They shouldn't be allowed to reproduce.'

Me:  Jesus!

AS:  Just, if you hear one story of an ASD person who's been violent or something then you get so many horrible people.

Me:  (Sarcastic) Yeah, because neurotypical people are never violent!  I guess it's just ignorance, isn't it?

AS:  Yeah.

Me:  Thank you.

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