Eight Months Later
Eight months ago today, I was diagnosed as autistic. And some days I feel like I’m still processing that diagnosis. It’s something that, for so long, I had thought/suspected about myself and I thought, because I’d thought it for so long, that that knowing wouldn’t change anything. And in some ways, most ways, nothing in my life has changed except that I know now and so do other people. I mean, I’d started accommodating myself before that diagnosis – I got a weighted blanket for when I was experiencing anxiety or restlessness or just couldn’t sleep; I bought Loop earplugs to help with noise and started wearing them to things like concerts or hockey games or even the plays that we go to; I keep fidget toys at my desk at work; hell I even started keeping my hair short so it wouldn’t be touching me because I hate that sensory experience so much – so in my head, I thought it would be the same, I’d just be more knowledgeable about myself....