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Two band quotes.
I was diagnosed with autism last year. I discovered autism, it discovered me. Whatever. But fairly regularly people will ask me what difference a diagnosis has made to me.
It gives me the grace to accept who I am.
I can't make any purposeful positive change without that. And I accept that too.
That...idea...that mental holding of something tricky. I'm embracing that. I took my kitty for surgery yesterday (a whole 'nother post) and it was stressful and high on admin. I tried to take the easiest road and do a direct charge to pet insurance, but there was a stinking administrative charge. Which I did not grok until payment and collection time. I was waving my arms randomly, when some bitch walks past behind me and tells me, it is on the paperwork yaknow?
And I felt really inadequate. In the past I would have accepted that yeah, I'm pretty retarded with forms. They just form a swimmy blur every time I look at them. When I did expend energy to pick it out, yes. The admin charge is a sentence in bold font.
In two A4 sheets of packed 10 point font of defensive gibberish. And that's the form, I get it. But it isn't exactly user friendly and to be honest, I think that's a them problem.
I think I have some combination of distracted menopausal mum aspect that means some dickish much younger people assume I'm stupid. I'm not. I just gave up on active engagement with a noisy complicated outside world that drains me. My spoons are my own personal currency that I get to choose to use. And "being autistic" cements that.
One thing I really love about this is how much my daughter has my fucking back. She's 15 and a bit of an arse, but she utterly defends my right to be who I am right now.
An example. We went for burritos recently. I love burritos but the ordering process turns my brain to beige. When it came to pay, I wanted to scan my loyalty card and the till scanner was being awful. The lil male douche behind the till kept mansplaining how to scan a QR code to me. And I think he probably misinterpreted me wrestling with feeling like I wanted to punch him with actual genuine confusion about hwo the scan The Thing.
Suddenly the vibe changed. He came round from the till, looked at the scanner, wiped it clean and scanned my card for me. He didn't apologise, but he seemed bent over. Incidentally, I really pity the women who work for him.
What changed?
I just got this weird sense that some 6 foot strip of brick shithouse was becoming pissed at her mum being patronised and had loomed over my left shoulder to stare him down.
I love that she calls me out on shit, but utterly has my back
I was diagnosed with autism last year. I discovered autism, it discovered me. Whatever. But fairly regularly people will ask me what difference a diagnosis has made to me.
It gives me the grace to accept who I am.
I can't make any purposeful positive change without that. And I accept that too.
That...idea...that mental holding of something tricky. I'm embracing that. I took my kitty for surgery yesterday (a whole 'nother post) and it was stressful and high on admin. I tried to take the easiest road and do a direct charge to pet insurance, but there was a stinking administrative charge. Which I did not grok until payment and collection time. I was waving my arms randomly, when some bitch walks past behind me and tells me, it is on the paperwork yaknow?
And I felt really inadequate. In the past I would have accepted that yeah, I'm pretty retarded with forms. They just form a swimmy blur every time I look at them. When I did expend energy to pick it out, yes. The admin charge is a sentence in bold font.
In two A4 sheets of packed 10 point font of defensive gibberish. And that's the form, I get it. But it isn't exactly user friendly and to be honest, I think that's a them problem.
I think I have some combination of distracted menopausal mum aspect that means some dickish much younger people assume I'm stupid. I'm not. I just gave up on active engagement with a noisy complicated outside world that drains me. My spoons are my own personal currency that I get to choose to use. And "being autistic" cements that.
One thing I really love about this is how much my daughter has my fucking back. She's 15 and a bit of an arse, but she utterly defends my right to be who I am right now.
An example. We went for burritos recently. I love burritos but the ordering process turns my brain to beige. When it came to pay, I wanted to scan my loyalty card and the till scanner was being awful. The lil male douche behind the till kept mansplaining how to scan a QR code to me. And I think he probably misinterpreted me wrestling with feeling like I wanted to punch him with actual genuine confusion about hwo the scan The Thing.
Suddenly the vibe changed. He came round from the till, looked at the scanner, wiped it clean and scanned my card for me. He didn't apologise, but he seemed bent over. Incidentally, I really pity the women who work for him.
What changed?
I just got this weird sense that some 6 foot strip of brick shithouse was becoming pissed at her mum being patronised and had loomed over my left shoulder to stare him down.
I love that she calls me out on shit, but utterly has my back
