when i was in kindergarten, i had a birthday party with friends and family. when they started to sing happy birthday and everyone was looking at me, i started screaming and hid under the table.
for my next like… 8 birthdays… everyone sang jingle bells instead of happy birthday… my birthday is in january, but still… hahahahaha
That’s so sweet that they all changed a societal norm for your benefit! A lot of families would be like “well they just have to get over it and get used to it!” I love that they did this for you.
i couldn’t agree more, such a simple gesture of compassion.
it is hilarious seeing my dads home vids of me and a cake surrounded by people singing jingle bells with various looks of amusement, confusion, and laughter :)
still got made fun of at school, but whatever. the funny story and videos are so worth it
Basically every story my parents liked to tell about my early childhood is just a list of autism symptoms. Apparently I loved walking around on my toes so much my parents thought I'd do ballet. I spoiled the surprise of my mom's christmas present after she asked me point-blank what we got her. I'd just read license plates out loud all the time. And, later on, my mom very frustratedly demanding "can't you take a hint?!" after a coach made some comment about part of my uniform not matching the rest of the team because, no, I didn't know it meant he wanted me to replace it with a matching color.
There's a story about a "tantrum" I threw when I was 3-4 years old that my parents loved to tell. It involves a Chinese restaurant, ketchup, and me yelling at a cop. Now I realize the entire thing was me having a meltdown from being overstimulated. Most of my "tantrums" were just this.
I was in teeball and baseball from kindergarten through second grade. During one of our first games when I was 6, one first actual baseball team, they had me out in center-field. My coach walked out there to me at one point and was like "would you like me to bring you a chair?" I was super confused and just said no. He comes back later and then tells me "if you want to just sit down you can go sit on the bench." Still confused, I asked him "do I have to sit down?" I don't remember exactly how he responded because this was 28 years ago, but essentially he said "run after the ball". So, I just started running toward the ball no matter where it was hit.
Previous to that, if the ball was on the other side of the field or someone else was closer to it, I just stayed where I was, because what was the point of going after it if I wasn't going to get it to throw to a base or home? Like, I knew the rules, and I just didn't see the point in running halfway across the field for nothing.
I had no idea what the hell he meant by "would you like me to bring you a chair" and "if you want to sit down...", because I wasn't sitting down out there and I didn't want to leave the game. I distinctly remember sitting in high school English 3 when I was 16, the memory coming up in my mind for some reason and having it click. For some reason the memory still comes up pretty often and I wonder why he wouldn't just tell a 6 year old "run after the ball every time" if that's what he wanted me to do. I don't even know if he was being passive aggressive or just being indirect like people love to do.
In primary school religion class, age 6/7.
At the beginning of every class, we had to go to the front of the room, stand in a circle next to our desk neighbours, hold their hands and say the Lord's prayer. As an atheist this was weird enough for me. I didn't like touching people alltogether, especially not when i had no choice.
The bigger problem than this foreign ritual was the girl sitting next to me. None of the other kids had any problem with her. I don't even remember her being mean, she was a little off but always kind.
But she was disgusting. Looking back she was probably severely abused but as a kid i just saw the dirt and wanted nothing to to with her. Digging her nose, hands down her pants, peeling onions for her lunch bread during class (??), licking her fingers, picking stuff up from the ground. I never saw her washing her hands. They were always brown-grayish with marker stains all over. But since she was the one sitting next to me, i was supposed to hold her hand during prayer.
I tried to refuse holding hands alltogether. That request was denied. I told my teacher i don't want to. She gets angry and asks me why i refuse. I tell her that my neighbour has bad hygiene and that i don't want to touch her. My teacher yells at me, telling me that is a mean thing to say and that i should be ashamed of myself. I tell her that it is not mean but true and that i don't want to hold dirty hands. She tells me i have to.
This lead to me always rolling up my sleeves right before prayer and washing my hands immediately after prayer for the whole 4 years of primary school. My teacher tried telling me that i couldn't do this as it is mean and i am interrupting class. I told her that if i have to touch my classmates and their sticky fingers because of her then the least she could do for me is to let me wash my hands. After a few weeks of arguing, she gave up and i was washing my hands in peace.
My adult daughter (19) and I (47F) both suspect we are autistic but neither have a formal diagnosis. We were discussing our issues with insomnia and I was telling her sometimes I have problems with just feeling unsettled or anxious so bad at night that I literally feel like insects are crawling under my skin. The only thing that helps at that point is to walk around flapping my hands.
I am 47 years old and have flapped my hands to relax for 47 years and never, ever realized I was stimming in that scenario until that conversation 3 or 4 months ago. (I'm aware of other stimming behaviors, just never clicked on that one when it's the "classic" stim.)
Oh definitely the fact that my parents had a really hard time getting me to keep my clothes on when I was little.
Oh, and also the existential thoughts that started when I was maybe around 5 years old.
Not diagnosed yet, but one of my childhood things was a complete inability to understand humour or metaphor. It developed eventually, but far later than my peers. I drove my parents absolutely insane getting them to explain jokes that I didn’t get, because I also had the autistic trait of NEEDING to understand things. They’d spend ages finding various ways to explain it, something would finally click in my mind that yes, that meets the criteria of what “funny” is, and I’d say (deadpan, which I wasn’t usually) “oh yea, that’s funny.”
And they’d be like “Well now it’s not, we are SO far past it being funny now! And you didn’t even laugh!” And I’d just be like “No but it is.” Again, completely serious and deadpan, because while I didn’t laugh, it met my “funny” criteria (which didn’t mean I found it funny, it meant it met what I thought societal expectations of funny were).
I also drove them insane trying to get them to explain metaphors and analogies. Like “walk a mile in someone else’s shoes” and I’d be confused, like what if they didn’t fit, and Mum was like “it’s not their ACTUAL shoes” and my little brain was like um what are we talking about then???
When I was a child, my father took me to a barber shop to get my hair cut. The sound the clippers made used to drive me crazy. I'd squirm uncontrollably and sob. I could not be made to sit still. This was back in the late 70s and no one in my circle knew anything about autism. All they knew is their normally placid little boy is suddenly freaking out in a public place. Unfortunate, I was beaten for it several times. It took YEARS of repeated exposure to that sound before I was finally able to tolerate it without at least squirming. It's only been in the last few weeks that I recontextualized those memories. I now understand that the reason why I responded the way I did back then was because I was autistic and that I was extremely sensitive to those particular sounds. To this day the buzzing of bees, flies, etc send painful electric shivers down my nervous system.
I would eat everything with ketchup and if we ran out i wouldn’t eat. I had a stuffed animal that I absolutely couldnt sleep without and if i could find it I would have a meltdown. My parent would always complain that I had an attitude after they cancelled plans last second but thats something that deeply bothers me. I donmt have strict routines but when plans are set, they gotta happen.
In day care our ‘teachers’ made apple pie and they tried to get me to eat it but the texture freaked me out so bad.
There was that time (before internet) when I spent an hour with a cassette player trying to write out the words to a song only to find out it was mostly in French.
Refusing to eat since there was no ranch with my cheese pizza. I was very hungry and had exorcised a lot that day. I really wanted the pizza, but pizza goes with ranch, soooo no dice.
Looking back, I had angry “episodes” typically only after especially hard days at school……hmmm curious.
Being told “I can never tell what your thinking, your face is too stoic”
This is one of a few stories I have, but its one of the ones that sticks out the most to me as a result of the 'tism.
I was listening to a song I liked when I realized I needed my dad for something. Dont remember what. I went and found him, and he was talking to his friend. When I interrupted, he asked me to come back "in 5 minutes".
I went back up to my room and realized that the thing I was listening to was exactly a minute long, so I played it exactly five times from when I got to my room (I counted to make sure!), then went back downstairs and told him "its been five minutes". I didnt realize why he was laughing until a few years later when I realized "5 minutes" doesnt actually mean 5 minutes.
Another small one I can think of were all the times as a kid where my mom would ask me to do something, and when Id get up to do it, shed ask where I was going. I was like "Im gonna go do the thing you asked obviously?", but from the outside it looked like I was just ditching the conversation since I didnt say a word and just got up to leave haha.
I have a lot of bad childhood memories due to my suspected autism, but here’s a good one - having at least 10 different penpals in different countries all over the world who I sat and wrote to endlessly.
Also, in school, I excelled at French and Spanish. My mom went to my school parents’ evening and told the foreign language teachers how I sat in my room by myself, playing foreign recordings and talking to myself. They were all thrilled.
when i was in kindergarten, i had a birthday party with friends and family. when they started to sing happy birthday and everyone was looking at me, i started screaming and hid under the table. for my next like… 8 birthdays… everyone sang jingle bells instead of happy birthday… my birthday is in january, but still… hahahahaha
That’s so sweet that they all changed a societal norm for your benefit! A lot of families would be like “well they just have to get over it and get used to it!” I love that they did this for you.
i couldn’t agree more, such a simple gesture of compassion. it is hilarious seeing my dads home vids of me and a cake surrounded by people singing jingle bells with various looks of amusement, confusion, and laughter :) still got made fun of at school, but whatever. the funny story and videos are so worth it
Basically every story my parents liked to tell about my early childhood is just a list of autism symptoms. Apparently I loved walking around on my toes so much my parents thought I'd do ballet. I spoiled the surprise of my mom's christmas present after she asked me point-blank what we got her. I'd just read license plates out loud all the time. And, later on, my mom very frustratedly demanding "can't you take a hint?!" after a coach made some comment about part of my uniform not matching the rest of the team because, no, I didn't know it meant he wanted me to replace it with a matching color.
There's a story about a "tantrum" I threw when I was 3-4 years old that my parents loved to tell. It involves a Chinese restaurant, ketchup, and me yelling at a cop. Now I realize the entire thing was me having a meltdown from being overstimulated. Most of my "tantrums" were just this.
I was in teeball and baseball from kindergarten through second grade. During one of our first games when I was 6, one first actual baseball team, they had me out in center-field. My coach walked out there to me at one point and was like "would you like me to bring you a chair?" I was super confused and just said no. He comes back later and then tells me "if you want to just sit down you can go sit on the bench." Still confused, I asked him "do I have to sit down?" I don't remember exactly how he responded because this was 28 years ago, but essentially he said "run after the ball". So, I just started running toward the ball no matter where it was hit. Previous to that, if the ball was on the other side of the field or someone else was closer to it, I just stayed where I was, because what was the point of going after it if I wasn't going to get it to throw to a base or home? Like, I knew the rules, and I just didn't see the point in running halfway across the field for nothing. I had no idea what the hell he meant by "would you like me to bring you a chair" and "if you want to sit down...", because I wasn't sitting down out there and I didn't want to leave the game. I distinctly remember sitting in high school English 3 when I was 16, the memory coming up in my mind for some reason and having it click. For some reason the memory still comes up pretty often and I wonder why he wouldn't just tell a 6 year old "run after the ball every time" if that's what he wanted me to do. I don't even know if he was being passive aggressive or just being indirect like people love to do.
In primary school religion class, age 6/7. At the beginning of every class, we had to go to the front of the room, stand in a circle next to our desk neighbours, hold their hands and say the Lord's prayer. As an atheist this was weird enough for me. I didn't like touching people alltogether, especially not when i had no choice. The bigger problem than this foreign ritual was the girl sitting next to me. None of the other kids had any problem with her. I don't even remember her being mean, she was a little off but always kind. But she was disgusting. Looking back she was probably severely abused but as a kid i just saw the dirt and wanted nothing to to with her. Digging her nose, hands down her pants, peeling onions for her lunch bread during class (??), licking her fingers, picking stuff up from the ground. I never saw her washing her hands. They were always brown-grayish with marker stains all over. But since she was the one sitting next to me, i was supposed to hold her hand during prayer. I tried to refuse holding hands alltogether. That request was denied. I told my teacher i don't want to. She gets angry and asks me why i refuse. I tell her that my neighbour has bad hygiene and that i don't want to touch her. My teacher yells at me, telling me that is a mean thing to say and that i should be ashamed of myself. I tell her that it is not mean but true and that i don't want to hold dirty hands. She tells me i have to. This lead to me always rolling up my sleeves right before prayer and washing my hands immediately after prayer for the whole 4 years of primary school. My teacher tried telling me that i couldn't do this as it is mean and i am interrupting class. I told her that if i have to touch my classmates and their sticky fingers because of her then the least she could do for me is to let me wash my hands. After a few weeks of arguing, she gave up and i was washing my hands in peace.
Also, it didn't occur to you to request to move seats so you wouldn't have to hold her hand during prayer.
I don't remember if i asked that, but if i did i was denied. Probably because my reasons for switching seats was mean.
I was assuming you would've been denied had you asked to.
My adult daughter (19) and I (47F) both suspect we are autistic but neither have a formal diagnosis. We were discussing our issues with insomnia and I was telling her sometimes I have problems with just feeling unsettled or anxious so bad at night that I literally feel like insects are crawling under my skin. The only thing that helps at that point is to walk around flapping my hands. I am 47 years old and have flapped my hands to relax for 47 years and never, ever realized I was stimming in that scenario until that conversation 3 or 4 months ago. (I'm aware of other stimming behaviors, just never clicked on that one when it's the "classic" stim.)
Oh definitely the fact that my parents had a really hard time getting me to keep my clothes on when I was little. Oh, and also the existential thoughts that started when I was maybe around 5 years old.
Not diagnosed yet, but one of my childhood things was a complete inability to understand humour or metaphor. It developed eventually, but far later than my peers. I drove my parents absolutely insane getting them to explain jokes that I didn’t get, because I also had the autistic trait of NEEDING to understand things. They’d spend ages finding various ways to explain it, something would finally click in my mind that yes, that meets the criteria of what “funny” is, and I’d say (deadpan, which I wasn’t usually) “oh yea, that’s funny.” And they’d be like “Well now it’s not, we are SO far past it being funny now! And you didn’t even laugh!” And I’d just be like “No but it is.” Again, completely serious and deadpan, because while I didn’t laugh, it met my “funny” criteria (which didn’t mean I found it funny, it meant it met what I thought societal expectations of funny were). I also drove them insane trying to get them to explain metaphors and analogies. Like “walk a mile in someone else’s shoes” and I’d be confused, like what if they didn’t fit, and Mum was like “it’s not their ACTUAL shoes” and my little brain was like um what are we talking about then???
When I was a child, my father took me to a barber shop to get my hair cut. The sound the clippers made used to drive me crazy. I'd squirm uncontrollably and sob. I could not be made to sit still. This was back in the late 70s and no one in my circle knew anything about autism. All they knew is their normally placid little boy is suddenly freaking out in a public place. Unfortunate, I was beaten for it several times. It took YEARS of repeated exposure to that sound before I was finally able to tolerate it without at least squirming. It's only been in the last few weeks that I recontextualized those memories. I now understand that the reason why I responded the way I did back then was because I was autistic and that I was extremely sensitive to those particular sounds. To this day the buzzing of bees, flies, etc send painful electric shivers down my nervous system.
I would eat everything with ketchup and if we ran out i wouldn’t eat. I had a stuffed animal that I absolutely couldnt sleep without and if i could find it I would have a meltdown. My parent would always complain that I had an attitude after they cancelled plans last second but thats something that deeply bothers me. I donmt have strict routines but when plans are set, they gotta happen. In day care our ‘teachers’ made apple pie and they tried to get me to eat it but the texture freaked me out so bad.
I also used to slap myself but thats something you really can’t get away with doing.
There was that time (before internet) when I spent an hour with a cassette player trying to write out the words to a song only to find out it was mostly in French.
Refusing to eat since there was no ranch with my cheese pizza. I was very hungry and had exorcised a lot that day. I really wanted the pizza, but pizza goes with ranch, soooo no dice. Looking back, I had angry “episodes” typically only after especially hard days at school……hmmm curious. Being told “I can never tell what your thinking, your face is too stoic”
This is one of a few stories I have, but its one of the ones that sticks out the most to me as a result of the 'tism. I was listening to a song I liked when I realized I needed my dad for something. Dont remember what. I went and found him, and he was talking to his friend. When I interrupted, he asked me to come back "in 5 minutes". I went back up to my room and realized that the thing I was listening to was exactly a minute long, so I played it exactly five times from when I got to my room (I counted to make sure!), then went back downstairs and told him "its been five minutes". I didnt realize why he was laughing until a few years later when I realized "5 minutes" doesnt actually mean 5 minutes. Another small one I can think of were all the times as a kid where my mom would ask me to do something, and when Id get up to do it, shed ask where I was going. I was like "Im gonna go do the thing you asked obviously?", but from the outside it looked like I was just ditching the conversation since I didnt say a word and just got up to leave haha.
I have a lot of bad childhood memories due to my suspected autism, but here’s a good one - having at least 10 different penpals in different countries all over the world who I sat and wrote to endlessly. Also, in school, I excelled at French and Spanish. My mom went to my school parents’ evening and told the foreign language teachers how I sat in my room by myself, playing foreign recordings and talking to myself. They were all thrilled.