The thing about growing up with undiagnosed autism is that you’re a bad kid. And you don’t know how to stop being a bad kid. But you’re pedantic, you hate hugs, you’d rather be alone than attend a family gathering, you play by yourself instead of with friends or family, you make mealtime impossible, you can’t even look your parents in the face, you lie to get out of going to school and when you’re there you complete your assignments correctly but in a way that is somehow inherently wrong. You’re wrong. There is something wrong with you and you can’t identify it or fix it. You can’t begin to explain it. You pull for justifications and apologies. You were a bad kid and there was nothing you could do to be better.
you can’t be “good” so you overcompensate by being “smart” and then have a stress breakdown your first year of college. you overcompensate by being funny and then get asked why you can’t ever be appropriate or serious about anything. overcompensate by being nothing and then get scolded for your depressing negativity.
