Since diagnosis I see quite clearly that, growing up, I masked everything. I knew that I had no voice. I knew I was terrified. I knew that if I tried to speak I would cry. This was not a time in Australia when boys were allowed to be afraid or to cry. There was something terribly wrong with me, which could only be my fault, and I had to hide it. The handful of times I was seen to be upset people assumed it was over something sporadic and recent. If ever I tried to tell anyone what was happening (very seldom, usually adults who had noticed, quite suspiciously, that I was a little off) then I was wrong or overly dramatic or a liar or to be laughed at. I masked in terror throughout all of this, only my pain, my crying myself to sleep, knew the depths of my patience. No-one knew the depths of my despair.
Wow, I think I could go novel-length with this......... just to wrap up, these days, following the ASD discovery, I have a very real problem being believed (even by professionals in psychiatry) that I have severe attention issues, and even that I'm ASD, because as a boy I wasn't supposed to be this good at suffering unseen, at masking, and if I had attention issues it is assumed that I would have been in trouble more. It's a tough slap in the face after all. I wonder if anyone relates?
Wow, I think I could go novel-length with this......... just to wrap up, these days, following the ASD discovery, I have a very real problem being believed (even by professionals in psychiatry) that I have severe attention issues, and even that I'm ASD, because as a boy I wasn't supposed to be this good at suffering unseen, at masking, and if I had attention issues it is assumed that I would have been in trouble more. It's a tough slap in the face after all. I wonder if anyone relates?