* food sensory issues
I have difficulty swallowing roast meat and end up chewing until it is like cardboard - the muscles in my throat simply find it very difficult to swallow it. I hate the feeling of jelly (jello) in my mouth. I do tend to lose my appetite if I become too aware that I am eating.
* sexuality
Totally heterosexual. I have never had any leanings or desires otherwise.
* gender
Male.
* interests/obsessions
Collecting, watching, reading about, and helping in the making of films. I also compose music, and have scored several films. I enjoy reading and have written since the age of 11.
* the diagnostic process
I was lead to suspect I was on the spectrum by an internet friend. When my wife was pregnant with my daughter, I knew Autism can spread in families, and so sought a DX so that my daughter would be closely observed. I went through a long process of evaluations for other conditions before I was referred to a speciallist and diagnosed.
* co-occurring conditions (e.g., ADHD, OCD, etc.)
Nothing diagnosed, however I suspect I am mildly dyscalculiac and mildly prosopagnostic. As a child I have reason to believe that I was hyperlexic, though I had delay developing speech (vocal communication not present beyond words spoken out of joint before after fifth birthday). Due to my personal history, I have moments of hypervigilance.
* your talents
People have considered me a talented composer, writer and artist.
* social phobia
Quite possibly. I like mixing with people but find it so stressful I often avoid it. I tend to get very cross in crouds and my wife kindly aborts trips to the shops if there is too thick a croud.
* high school experiences
Not being understood (Autism was hardly heard of back then, especially in the High Functioning). I was bullied by both pupils and some teachers. I found it very difficult to bring myself to complete or even start homework, even though I knew I would be in trouble the next day. I was considered a classroom clown and often punished... but I was always polite. I got caned only once: for missing French homework. In PE I did not see the point in cross-country running... on one occasion I decided to really try (I do not remember why, but perhaps a teacher had been nice to me)... I came among the first back... and was punished for cheating - I hadn't cheated. I was considered near the bottom of class in art, until one day, I hurridly scribbled a tree for homework - the teacher, not believing I had done it, asked if I could do it again under observation in class from a photo of a landscape - I agreed and did it again... I went to being considered one of the top pupils in Art almost overnight.
* college experiences
Art College - I disagreed with what they were trying to teach and did things my way. They failed me on my course.
Further Ed College - I started suffering from depression and, for the first time in my life, played truant... it was very school like after the relative freedom's enjoyed by Art students.
* Disability
Autism. Rheumatoid Arthritis.
* friendships
Several on-line friendships. Outside of family, one real world friendship - although I also consider my wife and children to be my friends also. I tend not to trust friendships... I cannot understand why anybody would wish to be my friend. Before we were married, I advised my wife to break up with me because I was not worth her... she didn't agree. I do not understand why she loves me, but I trust her word that she does.
* relationship with parents
Father, dearly departed. Mother is an absent grandmother. Used to think we were a really close family, however feel very disappointed that she doesn't appear bothered as to whether my children know her or not.
* autism in your family
I have two cousins once removed that are Autistic. I am Autistic and both my two children are Autistic. We believe the Autism came down through my maternal grandfather. I suspect my sister is Autistic, but she won't talk about it... I think she is insulted by the notion.
* Broader Autistic Phenotype/Autistic Cousin/Shadow Syndrome
Mother. Sister.
* autism research
Since my diagnosis I have read some books and joined some fora. Before diagnosis I stayed away from learning about Autism since I was worried about projecting the part on myself at diagnosis and answering the right questions... I now know of course that the diagnostic process is not like lying on a couch.
* health care
I live at home with my wife and children. Being in the UK I am under the NHS.
Aaryk Noctivagus
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Re: Aaryk Noctivagus
by Noctivagus on Mon Jul 21, 2008 9:28 pm
Writing About Myself
I find writing about myself very difficult. I find myself really dull and I never seem to do much that is interesting in the least. Other's seem to have no problems, but for me it is just irksome. Is this part of my Autism or is it simply just me? I think the latter rather than the former. I know I have issues with self-esteem and self-confidence, and I have spent most of my life disliking myself, and at times hating myself. I used to hit myself and urinate on myself to try and grasp my own self-dislike and contempt. The realisation of my own contemptability just seemed slightly beyond my reach... just a bit more hitting, or urinating, and perhaps I would be able to grasp the awful fullness of how disgusting and hateful I was.
I find writing about myself very difficult... indeed, this post isn't motivated by any wish to write about myself, but just to put another post in this thread in the hope it might be helpful. Maybe more Autistics feel this way about themselves, and maybe not. I can write about the things I do, such as composing or my writing, and I can write about the things that interest me and my obsessions. I write a lot of awful puns a lot of the time. However, I find it a real chore to write about myself.
People in the past have thought me interesting. I cannot for the life of me think why. Others have thought me to have a sad life because I seem square and inept to them and they cannot understand my obsessions - admittedly I have contempt for pubbing and clubbing and crowd related activities and sport, which these sorts of people find precious... so the scales are balanced I suppose.
What else? Well, I suppose I will never write my autobiography... unless its a pamphlet rather than a book - lol.
If this thread doesn't progress beyond this post... sorry. I will see if I have anything that interests me enough to post it, but until then I'll stay in guilty silence
Edit: I've looked through this folder and realise I am far from alone in length of thread... so that is some comfort.
I will try and write more.
I find writing about myself very difficult. I find myself really dull and I never seem to do much that is interesting in the least. Other's seem to have no problems, but for me it is just irksome. Is this part of my Autism or is it simply just me? I think the latter rather than the former. I know I have issues with self-esteem and self-confidence, and I have spent most of my life disliking myself, and at times hating myself. I used to hit myself and urinate on myself to try and grasp my own self-dislike and contempt. The realisation of my own contemptability just seemed slightly beyond my reach... just a bit more hitting, or urinating, and perhaps I would be able to grasp the awful fullness of how disgusting and hateful I was.
I find writing about myself very difficult... indeed, this post isn't motivated by any wish to write about myself, but just to put another post in this thread in the hope it might be helpful. Maybe more Autistics feel this way about themselves, and maybe not. I can write about the things I do, such as composing or my writing, and I can write about the things that interest me and my obsessions. I write a lot of awful puns a lot of the time. However, I find it a real chore to write about myself.
People in the past have thought me interesting. I cannot for the life of me think why. Others have thought me to have a sad life because I seem square and inept to them and they cannot understand my obsessions - admittedly I have contempt for pubbing and clubbing and crowd related activities and sport, which these sorts of people find precious... so the scales are balanced I suppose.
What else? Well, I suppose I will never write my autobiography... unless its a pamphlet rather than a book - lol.
If this thread doesn't progress beyond this post... sorry. I will see if I have anything that interests me enough to post it, but until then I'll stay in guilty silence
Edit: I've looked through this folder and realise I am far from alone in length of thread... so that is some comfort.
I will try and write more.
- Noctivagus
Re: Aaryk Noctivagus
by Noctivagus on Sat Jan 17, 2009 6:11 pm
I've made a bit of an essay elsewhere and thought it might be a waste not to put it here (with some changes) also as it may possibly be of interest perhaps to a researcher.
I did not use spoken language until after I turned 5 years old... and that because of a particular teacher. My parents had tried anything they could think of, including not giving me things if I only indicated that I wanted them and trying to force me to ask... it didn't work. I was able to vocalise and form individual words, but I did not communicate vocally.
That first teacher, Miss Stock, was the one who finally got me using spoken language (Peculiarly, I was also probably a bit Hyperlexic since I was very advanced in reading, and had started reading at a very early age). I wet myself right up until the age of 7 or 8... regardless of being hit for it and causing my parents to tell me afresh how disappointed and ashamed they were of having a child that still wet itself at such a late age.
However, as I progressed through the school, the school became aware that there was something the matter with me. First they tried putting me in a remedial reading class... however I soon got taken out of that because my reading was excellent and beyond my years. Then they had my parents take me to a child psychologist. He told my parents that I was very intelligent and had a hyperactive mind (I think he diagnosed me as Hyperactive but am not 100% sure). Since that was the only result of it, the school decided that I was simply naughty. They did observe that I was a 'loner' and would often be found sitting peacefully in 'out of bounds' areas away from the crowded playground - but only consider me only more naughty for repeatedly going to areas that were 'out-of-bounds'.
I would get punished for being naughty (often mild corporal punishments, like a ruler across the knuckles and the slipper across the buttocks and upper legs). My parents often informed me of how ashamed they were of me following reports from school. I understand I was considered disruptive (for clowning - which was how I handle social situations even to this day) and lazy in class... though always strangely polite towards teachers and not violent.
In senior School, I seldom did my homework (I felt very uncomfortable doing work associated with school when I was actually at home - different places are like different universes... how I wish Homework clubs had been suggested). I was often punished, Lines, Detention (which I actually rather enjoyed because the school was quiet and uncrowded after-school), Slipper... even the Cane, which was administered across the palm of the hand). It all did absolutely no good. Some teachers did realise that I responded well to positive praise and yet was quite passive when criticised/punished... these were the teachers who had the best results with me.
My parents were always feeling ashamed of me, and I was unpopular among fellow pupils and considered lazy/naughty by most teachers. The teachers did not know that I enjoyed listening in class to what they said, but of course noisey classrooms meant I was not always able to listen. Senior school had my hearing and eyesight checked... both were fine, even though I had difficulties hearing in noises places and tended to squint in bright light. (I have sensory sensitivities). So I was always being punished at school and my parents were always telling me how very ashamed they were of me, and that they felt like crawling under the nearest stone on the journy home after every school report day.
I was just a lazy naughty irritating embarrassment who got hit a lot by teachers. I hated me. Not 'being me'... it was 'me' that I grew to hate and continued to hate right up until my late mid-30s and the May of 2002 when I was officially DXed as having a 'High Functioning Autistic Spectrum Disorder'. Now I just dislike myself... I realised that some of my failings were because of Autism and not because I was naughty and shameful. I fear it when some tell me that they like me or that I have done well, because I know that sooner-or-later I will disappoint them and shame myself. When people like what I have accomplished, I figure that they simply cannot know what they are talking about if they like something I have done... I get somewhat confused when musicians and fellow (proper) composers tell me they like my musical compositions, and tend to think they are lying out of misplaced ettiquet. I find it difficult to understand why anybody would like me, and I have problems with accepting that my wife loves me (even though we have been happy together for over 20 years of marrage) - I simply trust her enough to believe her totally.
Throughout my school, work and leisure life, I have been bullied and mobbed by those around me, I am ashamed to say - to this day I cannot comfortably refer to myself as a 'man' even though I am a 43 year old male and father of two. At home as a child and young man, I was a severe disappointment and source of shame for my parents and younger sister who's journey through school I made more difficult because of my bad name... even though she was a good girl and hard working. At work, I have been regularly mobbed by groups of other staff, and disappointed those in authority over me (sometimes because I wouldn't lie for them - even clients have complained that they found me evasive, without realising that I simply was not prepared to lie to them, and yet was trying to avoid dropping the management into a whole world of do-do). I always and repeatedly fail and am almost always disliked. The only exception is my present immediate home... and even there, I find it hard to accept that I am loved and also liked.
My heart can only dislike me, regardless of how my head reasons... I have continual conflict within between 'heart' and 'head'. I continually fail in everything I do. I am never good enough. Never. Anything I do cannot possibly be called good for one reason... its something I have done.
I did not use spoken language until after I turned 5 years old... and that because of a particular teacher. My parents had tried anything they could think of, including not giving me things if I only indicated that I wanted them and trying to force me to ask... it didn't work. I was able to vocalise and form individual words, but I did not communicate vocally.
That first teacher, Miss Stock, was the one who finally got me using spoken language (Peculiarly, I was also probably a bit Hyperlexic since I was very advanced in reading, and had started reading at a very early age). I wet myself right up until the age of 7 or 8... regardless of being hit for it and causing my parents to tell me afresh how disappointed and ashamed they were of having a child that still wet itself at such a late age.
However, as I progressed through the school, the school became aware that there was something the matter with me. First they tried putting me in a remedial reading class... however I soon got taken out of that because my reading was excellent and beyond my years. Then they had my parents take me to a child psychologist. He told my parents that I was very intelligent and had a hyperactive mind (I think he diagnosed me as Hyperactive but am not 100% sure). Since that was the only result of it, the school decided that I was simply naughty. They did observe that I was a 'loner' and would often be found sitting peacefully in 'out of bounds' areas away from the crowded playground - but only consider me only more naughty for repeatedly going to areas that were 'out-of-bounds'.
I would get punished for being naughty (often mild corporal punishments, like a ruler across the knuckles and the slipper across the buttocks and upper legs). My parents often informed me of how ashamed they were of me following reports from school. I understand I was considered disruptive (for clowning - which was how I handle social situations even to this day) and lazy in class... though always strangely polite towards teachers and not violent.
In senior School, I seldom did my homework (I felt very uncomfortable doing work associated with school when I was actually at home - different places are like different universes... how I wish Homework clubs had been suggested). I was often punished, Lines, Detention (which I actually rather enjoyed because the school was quiet and uncrowded after-school), Slipper... even the Cane, which was administered across the palm of the hand). It all did absolutely no good. Some teachers did realise that I responded well to positive praise and yet was quite passive when criticised/punished... these were the teachers who had the best results with me.
My parents were always feeling ashamed of me, and I was unpopular among fellow pupils and considered lazy/naughty by most teachers. The teachers did not know that I enjoyed listening in class to what they said, but of course noisey classrooms meant I was not always able to listen. Senior school had my hearing and eyesight checked... both were fine, even though I had difficulties hearing in noises places and tended to squint in bright light. (I have sensory sensitivities). So I was always being punished at school and my parents were always telling me how very ashamed they were of me, and that they felt like crawling under the nearest stone on the journy home after every school report day.
I was just a lazy naughty irritating embarrassment who got hit a lot by teachers. I hated me. Not 'being me'... it was 'me' that I grew to hate and continued to hate right up until my late mid-30s and the May of 2002 when I was officially DXed as having a 'High Functioning Autistic Spectrum Disorder'. Now I just dislike myself... I realised that some of my failings were because of Autism and not because I was naughty and shameful. I fear it when some tell me that they like me or that I have done well, because I know that sooner-or-later I will disappoint them and shame myself. When people like what I have accomplished, I figure that they simply cannot know what they are talking about if they like something I have done... I get somewhat confused when musicians and fellow (proper) composers tell me they like my musical compositions, and tend to think they are lying out of misplaced ettiquet. I find it difficult to understand why anybody would like me, and I have problems with accepting that my wife loves me (even though we have been happy together for over 20 years of marrage) - I simply trust her enough to believe her totally.
Throughout my school, work and leisure life, I have been bullied and mobbed by those around me, I am ashamed to say - to this day I cannot comfortably refer to myself as a 'man' even though I am a 43 year old male and father of two. At home as a child and young man, I was a severe disappointment and source of shame for my parents and younger sister who's journey through school I made more difficult because of my bad name... even though she was a good girl and hard working. At work, I have been regularly mobbed by groups of other staff, and disappointed those in authority over me (sometimes because I wouldn't lie for them - even clients have complained that they found me evasive, without realising that I simply was not prepared to lie to them, and yet was trying to avoid dropping the management into a whole world of do-do). I always and repeatedly fail and am almost always disliked. The only exception is my present immediate home... and even there, I find it hard to accept that I am loved and also liked.
My heart can only dislike me, regardless of how my head reasons... I have continual conflict within between 'heart' and 'head'. I continually fail in everything I do. I am never good enough. Never. Anything I do cannot possibly be called good for one reason... its something I have done.
- Noctivagus
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