Yesterday was fun. I showered, wore my favorite shirt, and watched the first movie of LOTR in the movies. Tonight I watch the second, tomorrow the last! Today I ate a cheeseburger. I also cleaned my room.
You know, this week I've come to a very profound realization. Recently, I made a neuropsychological evaluation ... Which ended up being essentially solely an IQ test. You see, the result was high, and that's what I talked about last time. But here's an interesting fact: High abilities/giftedness actually shares a lot of things in common, to the point they're often mistaken for one another.
There is just one problem with this. In an IQ test, people with autism spectrum disorder usually have a pattern in things they'll display better performance. If someone were to be of the 2e (twice exceptional) profile, that is, having both Ha/G and some disability, in this case, ASD, their high IQ performance could hide the autism pattern, and therefore, they'd be unable to get diagnosed for autism. In cases like this, there's two possibilities:
1- A (neuro)psychologist and a psychiatrist help the diagnosis by analyzing patterns of behavior in therapy, in addition to someone applying a test specifically made to check or discard the diagnosis of ASD, like the ADOS 2 and questions to the school, the patient and the patient's family.
2- Your parents refuse to acknowledge that there is still a possibility that you may have a disability, ignoring the fact your brain works in a higher performance, which would make the individual able to successfully mask, even if it caused extreme distress in daily life, which would explain the years of depression, «attempts» and self injuring behavior that the parents question themselves about so much.
The second option is my current situation. You see, that made me think... And I don't care. At all. When I turn eighteen years old, I'll try and get my extremely late diagnosis by myself, without the need of my parents lies and shaming reprehension.
You see, I've lived most of my life being told by my father to stop certain behaviors of mine (yapping about my special interests, stimming in any form) and performing certain acts in front of a mirror so I could be less... Awkward.
It never worked. Nothing ever worked.
Then, in 2022, when I was first told by a psychiatrist there's a big chance I have autism spectrum disorder, I researched so much about it, it even became an actual hyperfixation of mine. It felt freeing, knowing that I wasn't weird, that I wasn't alone, that I belonged at least somewhere. There was nothing wrong with me, nothing to fix, I was simply wired differently. With that, came the freedom to happily flap my hands and rock back and forth on the car when listening to music, talking nonstop about my interests to my friends who were willing to listen.
But my dad kept reprehending me, for things that didn't bother anyone but him. He shamed me for it, he made me feel like an outcast once more. He tells me things such as «You shouldn't do that. People stare, they think you look retarded. Stop it. It irritates me. Stop trying to act stupid, stop wanting to be sick, you're not insane, dont pretend you are.»
I didn't mind my dad's words. I didn't mind his judgement. My resentment towards him simply grew each and everyday more and more, but I was used to it, and I didn't care. I never cared for his opinion, much less for others...
But school is a different environment. You see, not having an official diagnosis made me feel like I should hide those traits, because if people asked me something, I couldn't say I actually was autistic, and people would think I'd be faking it for attention....
So I hid once more. The distress has become unbearable to this point, and I've decided I cannot take it anymore. I can't mask. Sure, maybe around my parents, so I don't get yelled at, but not anywhere else... I hate forcing myself to speak. To not hum, to not flap my hands, to not rock side to side, to look at people's faces even if not in their eyes, to accommodate others for their comfort instead of caring about myself.
So I've decided, with or without a diagnosis, any diagnosis, I'm still allowed to be me. And I know how ridiculous, and how corny this shit sounds, but it never made any sense to tell myself that until now. I'm allowed to do whatever the hell I want, it's not like I'm disrupting anyone.... And if I am, I don't give a damn.
For a while, I feared that if I abruptly unmasked after summer break in front of my friends, they'd think I'm faking, making myself worse, for attention. But, now that I think about it, they're all so sweet, so supportive, it didn't matter what... So I figured that if they truly are my friends, they won't mind seeing me unmasked, right? And if they do bother with it, and don't want to see me unmasked, then I don't want to see them anymore.
And in February I'll pretty much put it up to test, see if people can stand being around me. Like, actually me. Myself.
It's very likely I'll share this message specifically to my friends, solely so they can read and understand if I start acting different... Because, in the end, it's just me. And it's just them. Me and my friends, until the end.
Hopefully my mental will improve as I stop hiding myself.
Goodbye, until my next entry. I have to go to the movies in around two hours.
P.S.: I started learning LIBRAS (Brazilian sign language). Thought it'd be a good thing to share. Hopefully I'll write more about it later. It's very fun, y'know?
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