Since I got the results of the assessment last week (now two weeks ago), all I can think about (outside of Xena and Stardew Valley; current Hyperfixations) is seeing how the Autism aspect has played into my life. I started therapy six years ago, looking for answers about…a lot of things. Mainly to cope with the dissociation and time loss. A year into it we get diagnosed with DID. That explained the time loss, some memory issues, and fluid/plural sense of identity. So we started to work on that. Work on cooperation, rebuilding our sense of self around our strengths; and ultimately going from highly suicidal, depressed, and unable to care for ourself to having a toolbox to mitigate depression, recognize ideation as a flag for change, and using reminders to tend to tasks that “normally” should be automatic. Like brushing our teeth or remembering when we last showered, cleaned the litter boxes, did dishes and so on.

The ADHD explains the horrible executive function that medication has helped with. It also explained the reasons why task transition is hard for us. And planning and organizing. And the thing called working memory, which is shot to hell for us. Neurodivergence also explained the poor coordination I had/have with knowing where my body is in space and time. I got hit in the face so many times by a ball of some sort, not just due to poor reaction time, but also being terrible with depth perception. I walked into walls a lot at home, bumped into things, and felt like I had two left feet. And yes I forget I have body needs. I will forget to eat until my body hits near pass out level if I don’t actively pause what I’m doing.

That said, while yes we fidget A LOT (looking at you hyperactivity), it didn’t answer the other aspects. The rigid thinking (at first we thought this was due to trauma), the slew of sensory issues ranging from food textures, to noise and light sensitivity, and the shut downs. My god the shut downs were our meltdowns for most of our life. Overwhelmed emotionally and dysregulated often ended in a shutdown. For years we instinctively knew somehow we were different from other kids, especially as a kid, but could not say why. I remember as early as six having these moments where I didn’t understand how everyone else around me just knew how to act or what to say without having to actively decide it. I had to think about it. Most times if I didn’t and just blurted out whatever I thought, it ended with stares and a sudden feeling of, “oh no I did it again.” So we started masking.

And even then, we were still a System, albeit covert and unaware of how vast we truly are at the time. Also probably because by eight we had already began to bury every unpleasant memory and scrubbed it from present memory. We still switched, loss time, and dissociated from any and everything deemed unpleasant. Some of us tolerated certain sensory stimuli better than others. It was like consistent tag-teaming to get through a day back then. Despite knowing nothing about DID, let alone being diagnosed.

Even still, it was not unusual for us to often be at the dinner table in tears over food. Not because we’re “picky” but we couldn’t cope with the texture of many things. I didn’t know how to tell my parents, “the way it feels in my mouth is so bad it’s really uncomfortable and I just can’t tolerate it.” Cabbage, cooked peppers or onions, tomatoes, squash and zucchini, over cooked green beans, most melons, oranges, pineapple (allergic), strawberries (also allergic), most grapes and berries–The texture lacked consistency. Hell if my cereal got soggy it was unpleasant and often set me in a down mood. I hated meatloaf despite trying to tell myself it was like eating a plain burger. It was soo bad, until I discovered mustard and that made it bearable. Salmon patties were a favorite because it was a nice texture. I don’t care how well it tastes, if the texture is off I will not force myself to eat it. Something in my brain goes off and I literally feel distressed from it.

How we dealt with every sensory nightmare: dissociate, switch, repeat. Or find a part who didn’t have such a sensitivity. Admittedly out of all of the kids, we struggled most with dental hygiene. I hated bubblegum toothpaste. I hated the way the brush felt. Now I use an extra soft bristle, and a nice mint, and have even gotten used to flossing. Mouthwash still triggers the repetitive thought, “don’t swallow” followed by the memory of a kid throwing up in class from swallowing mouthwash. But I have to set a reminder, daily, to do it. It’s twice as hard to do when I really don’t want to deal with the demand, so somewhat PDA?

I’ve had two different therapists tell me and point out that we’re Autistic.

I remember once being 3 or 4 in my cousins lap watching fireworks and absolutely bawling from how loud it was, but blubbering “it’s so pretty!” Firecrackers made me cry and I watched from behind a glass door, still wanting to be part of the gathering but so overwhelmed by the uncertainty of when it would go off. Often calling out the unfairness of treatment at home, and being met with, “life’s not fair get used to it.” Asking why certain things were done in a way out of curiosity, and that being construed as defiance or being stubborn. And my favorite: being told I had a monotone voice from an early age. I still do. I just know how to force inflection and purposely enunciate as a way of masking. And there’s soo much more.

I script orders, phone calls, and even my job has a performative script to manage what is expected of me. We recently realized that we do plan everything we’re involved with, down to our free time. When going out to eat, we plan what to order before arriving. And when things go slightly off script we’re realizing it catches us off guard. There’s a quick flash of anxiety, brain stuttering, and trying to recover without showing the distress. Not to mention the echolalia from movies, TV, music and so on. But the scripting? I understand some people do it automatically without thought, but for me I have to have a script in place to manage social interactions.

Now, food textures aside, when it came to textiles I cannot tolerate micro-fiber. Tags did not bother as much until someone tucked the tag back in, and then suddenly I was aware of it. Nowadays I habitually rip tags out or find shirts that do not have tags. Stretchy pants, whether leggings or the godawful jeggings, are a no in my book. Denim on the other hand? Always. Maybe it’s the weight of the material, and the consistency of it. Jeans will always feel like jeans. I never had the seam of the sock issue given most socks didn’t fit properly. Noise is hyper-sensitivity. In part to trauma, but even without the trauma, I found it difficult to think or focus in loud environments. The overwhelm from noise often made us feel a need to run, to get as far away from the offending sound as quickly as possible. And for years we had to deny the need. Stand there and take it.

Parents yelling in our face? Best not look away, even if the eye contact is distracting and uncomfortable. Bouncing too much? Stop it. Fidgeting a lot? Sit still or sit on your hands. Asking too many questions? Quit being nosy or stubborn. Showing too much excitement over something? You need to calm down. Most of the bullying in elementary school went over my head honestly. I could not recognize when someone said something insulting, as even back then, I struggled with understanding euphemisms. A kid called me four eyes in first grade, when I first got my glasses midway through the year. I just stared at him and was confused by the statement. I didn’t have four eyes, just two. It took another year or so to understand…well even now, I know it’s an insult but I can’t explain why it is. Maybe our dissociative nature also played a role as we weren’t grounded most of the time.

In our teens we’d often felt stifled by routine, yet craved familiarity. These days I’m recognizing the reason for this is due to the contradictory nature of being both ADHD and Autistic. We enjoy predictability and sameness in our day to day, but will feel bored at times from the monotony. We really love loud music, but can’t stand all the noise of the outside world. There’s certain scents we love, and many more we don’t. Touch has a love-hate relationship, mainly due to trauma. Although why do people feel a need to put their hand on my shoulder without asking? It’s gross. It’s only been in the last six years body autonomy clicked for us.

Last week we went grocery shopping. At the check out, I don’t know if it was the cashier or the man behind us, but somebody’s BO was all we could smell. We loaded our cart as quickly as possible, focusing on anything that wasn’t the offending smell. Mentally, we were having a quick back and forth, coaxing ourself through it. All the while I could feel my gut tighten with nausea, my nerves starting to feel frayed, and the anxiety building. One of us wanted to cry, another was getting increasingly agitated, and here I am as Host having to keep it together and appear as “normal” as possible. Once we left I told my partner I hate when my senses get practically assaulted.

Overall, finally having a diagnosis has allowed us to be more empathetic and accepting of ourself. I may have mentioned this before: our last therapist commented that it may have been our trauma and neurodivergence clashing our entire life, so naturally it’s messy figuring out where one issue began and the other ends. The last few weeks have been really enlightening for us. The shame of being “picky” about food is dissipating, and instead we realize we’re honoring a sensitivity to texture. The cringe of embarrassment when we remember being called “captain obvious” for a fair portion of our life doesn’t sting nearly as bad. Of course we pointed out the obvious, it was our preference of communication to be direct. And being “tactless” at times may come from lack of catching social cues, and again, being direct and straightforward.

My twin is a pro with passive communication, and it often leads us to get into fights. Passive communication feels a lot like being baited. Those weird statements of, “Wow I’m thirsty,” instead of asking a partner to fetch a drink. It breaks my brain. I have gotten better about telling her with statements like that I will not always realize it’s an invitation of some sort. It will be just a statement to me. Passive communication often leads to miscommunication, and for us in the specific dynamic with our twin, being projected onto. It can be exhausting on us. Unfortunately, passive communication is something all neuro-types engage in from time to time.

One thing I genuinely do not get is what about direct communication is so offputting to others? I can parse it logically, but even then it still baffles me. Like all of these unspoken arbitrary rules of engagement do.