Autism and depression

As a young teen (around 14 or 15) I was told that I was not depressed, that it was in fact, just my "hormones". Looking back at this, I should have researched depression and given the symptoms to my parents, but in their defense, they already had a lot on their plates. Its no secret that I was a difficult child and teen, I mean, it was no cake walk for me either, so we moved passed it and I learned to mask my symptoms. 

At 25, I've been on depression medication for going on a year, and it's been the easiest transition of my life. Yesterday, I had an appointment to discuss how I'm doing and how the medication is working, and my depression scored moderate to severe, again, so she upped it. Today? I feel a difference. Even if it's a placebo effect (affect?), it's appreciated. 

 I'm finally after several weeks of progressively losing interest in everything, taking my hobbies back up, such as animal crossing. Living with autism can be rough, it can be downright miserable, but having depression coupled with it... I don't have a metaphor for it, but lets leave it at "it can make me want to poke out my ear drums with a fucking pencil". 

Now, I'm not using the word depressed to describe sadness, it's more extreme than that. My depression periods are when I am hopeless, dull, I sleep a lot, don't stim during the day or partake in any of my special interests. It's a dangerous period of time for me, as I've attempted suicide a couple of times (4 years have passed since I last tried, which I'm proud of. This is the longest time I haven't thought of ending my own life). David is always (understandably) afraid for me when I enter these. Much like anyone who has suffered from self harm, or eating disorders (which I have), there's always the chance for relapse. 

Many autistics have described these periods as Burnouts. First of all, what is a burnout? A burn out is when an autistic brain cannot continue the charade of being neurotypical. It goes into revolt. Stimuli become harder to experience, change can throw the person into risk of meltdown, and something they were able to accomplish the week before is now impossible. These periods are different for everyone, unfortunately. For me, I get really depressed, I tend to overeat (trying to rekindle the feeling of happiness), I don't stim as often as I should, I cry a lot more than usual, it's harder for me to get out of bed, and I tend to throw my special interests to the sidelines as they don't give me that feeling of fulfillment as per usual. Thankfully depression medication is helping with that. Aromatherapy also helps greatly, but when things get really bad, aromatherapy just isn't always enough. Thankfully, that's what it's meant for. Like almost anything in this world, it's able to be coupled with something else to achieve the desired goal. 

Not every autistic individual has depression or an anxiety disorder, although it's extremely common. Having depression does not automatically equal autism nor does autism automatically equal depression. Being mentally ill does not make you Hannibal Lecter, nor does it mean you're the villain in your own story. There are going to be moments in your life where you're given the opportunity to be the hero, or the villain, unfortunately there are a lot of times when you need to be both. 

"I can't do that"

Growing up, this wasn't a plausible explanation for not having completed a chore, which wasn't out of the norm, seeing as how I was living in a strict household. See, I was born in '91, where A.D.D was thought of as a "fad" diagnosis, demanded by lazy teachers so they could get away with just booting a child along the "no child left behind" bullshit. It wasn't entirely unreasonable, at that time, for people to not understand, or know much about developmental disorders, especially with the internet just blooming, and still not available in every home, unlike today. 

"I can't do that" translated to "I just want to sit in front of the tv and watch cartoons", now however, when I tell my parents when I can't do something, they ask why. Being able to educate my parents on my limitations and have an open dialogue with them, is truly a blessing. Their understanding and unconditional support (along with my husband's) has given me so much confidence to talk about it publicly. 

Thankfully, since the internet is a free informational resource, my husband and I are able to look up why I cannot do certain things, even if it's as routine as changing a light bulb. 

Executive Dysfunction, in psychology and neuroscience, executive dysfunction, or executive function deficit, is a disruption to the efficacy of the executive functions, which is a group of cognitive processes that regulate, control, and manage other cognitive processes.

In other words... It feels like there's an invisible, unbreakable barrier sitting in front of me, and I can walk along it for as long as I like, but I'll never reach the end of it. I can sit there and stare at it, but it'll do me no good, I could even dwell on it, but that only flares up my anxiety, which then triggers my depression. That'd send me back to bed where I'd get nothing done. Can't you just suck it up? Alright, next time your friend or relative checks their blood sugar or injects themselves with insulin, tell them to get over it. No. I can't do that. This is how my brain works, this isn't new, this isn't made up, I was able to hide it for 23 years, but eventually my brain couldn't keep up the charade and revolted. 

Executive Dysfunction is not permanent. Sure, I can't change a light bulb today, but I can do it tomorrow. This can even change by the hour, it all depends on what sort of day I'm having. If I'm super fidgety, and unstable, I'll sit on the floor and play video games or draw, for hours on end. If I'm well rested, I'm practically super woman, which ultimately effects (affects?) my spoon count* for the following day.

What do you mean by 'spoon count'? I provided the link above, but it's Christine Miserandino's spoon theory, which anyone living with an invisible disability is welcome to use to describe their energy levels. 

Is it just physical activity that can exhaust you? Nope. Socializing is a huge one for me. So if your facebook message goes unanswered for several months, or forever, it's nothing against you. I have always been rather introverted, and with age it's only gotten worse. And now, since my burnout 2 years ago*, I can only socialize a few times a week, or month. That sounds pretty drastic, but it's true. Having a facebook, text, phone, or instant messenger conversation can drastically change my energy levels, only because of my anxiety disorder. Essentially, socializing makes my brain go to war with itself. 

What's a burn out? It's different for every autistic individual, but for me, it's a period of time where I'm perpetually exhausted, depressed, and anxious. I'm still unlearning how to be a neurotypical* adult, and learning how to stim when I need it, learning recognize my overstimulation, and pre-meltdown symtpoms. All of this adds up to, my brain revolts and is unable to cope normally. Anything can set me off, during these periods, and I need to be in an extremely controlled environment with clearly labelled things, routines, and as little negative stimulation as possible. 

Negative Stimuli: Loud and unexpected noises, sudden light, screaming, bright colors, scratchy materials... basically anything extremely unpleasant. 

But life isn't like this, life will throw things you can't control, at you! Yes. Yes it does, and that's called 'coping', and when I'm unable to cope, I keep myself in the house, find the quietest room in the house and wait until I feel safe enough to venture back out into society. 

You said you burnt out 2 years ago? Yep. 2 years ago I woke up the day after a very eventful, taxing, and stressful experience, and immediately melted down. I'd had nightmares all night, which led to very poor sleeping conditions, and just started to sob. I scratched, picked, and hit myself, before eventually curling myself into the fetal position and sobbing it out. Once I was calm (aka, I didn't have the energy to continue), I pulled out my tablet and plugged in what I had experienced into google. Thankfully, I wasn't totally ignorant to Autism, and had experienced (and had even been on the receiving end of meltdowns a couple of times during my own childhood), and knew what to look for. I was entirely shocked when I started reading the Mayo Clinic's Autism Symptom List. Things started adding up quickly, so much in fact that I began to jot down why I thought certain childhood symptoms had applied to me at a younger age. Finding symptoms for adults is harder, as many adults, like myself, had found what to hide during which situations. After about 50 or so hours of research, I'd become absolutely convinced, and began to incorporate positive stimulation into my life. It took 6 months before it'd become a knee-jerk reaction to pull out Rex* when I'm stressed out, scared, uncertain, or feeling unsafe. It also took about a month for me to be able to convince David, but he eventually agreed, and not because I was constantly pestering him. In fact, I'd bring him information, send him excerpts from Nerdy, Shy, and Socially Inappropriate by Cynthia Kim, which is a book about navigating life as an autistic woman. 

After all of that research, David found me an amazing psychologist (who later formally diagnosed me), and I was placed on the wait list. As we patiently waited for the call, we each put my reactions and daily behavior under the microscope. By the time of my appointment, which was roughly 7 months after this, I'd begun carrying small squares of minky in my pockets at all times. We found having that slice of positive stimulation, could easily cancel out the negative, and my psychologist took notice to this. 

Who or what is Rex? 

Rex is a small, orange, extremely soft dinosaur (made by gund) that David and I found at a toystore 3 years ago. He's got blue spines, that is an equally soft, but different texture than his body. He can fit in my pocket and I'm able to rub my thumbs on his spines, or arms or tail in public, and if I'm really uncomfortable, I rub his back on my face. This sort of comfort object is not unheard of or uncommon for neurodivergent people, in fact, I've noticed it's really common. 

It's really simple, he's like a baby blanket, he makes me feel safe, and he provides positive stimuli. 

Can stimming help you recover spoons? No, but they can help me keep the ones I have left. It can help me collect my thoughts, gather my strength, and power through what's left of my day. Stimming can give me more spoons for the following day. 

Should I ever point out when you stim? Asking questions is healthy. Judging someone based on their coping mechanisms is absolutely shitty. If someone pulls something out of the ordinary out of their pocket, like say, a dinosaur, you can absolutely comment on how cute it is, where the person got it, or something positive. But stating that someone is "too old" to hang onto a child's toy, is like saying "your coping mechanism doesn't please me, you must bend to my will and forgo anything that makes you happy". If you've got nothing nice to say, keep it to yourself. If you think your child is too old to sleep with a stuffed animal or blanket, ask them why they still have it in a nice way, don't tell them that they need to 'grow up', let them make the decision to give up their comfort items. Taking something away from someone, that makes them feel safe, births trust issues, and damages them. 

Did your parents ever take your comfort objects? Fuck. No. In fact, they encouraged it. They'd joke that I need another stuffed animal like a hole in the head, but they never tried to take them away from me. I slept with my baby blanket from the time I was just a few months old, up until I was 23, when I replaced it with a sturdier blanket. I still sleep with my original baby blanket by my head. 

Does your husband ridicule you for sleeping with a stuffed animal? Who do you think provides me with them? Lol! On special occasions, he takes me to build-a-bear, we go through the heart ceremony together, and that makes that certain stuffed animal that more special. My recent friend is a black and white super soft dog named D. Og Halliday (Og was James Halliday's best friend in Ready Player One written by Ernest Cline). He's never questioned me, in fact, I remember when he and I had been dating for about a year when he took me to build-a-bear for the first time. He got me a panda, and wasn't at all embarrassed when I did the heart ceremony. He also didn't laugh when I finally confessed that I couldn't sleep without a stuffed animal (I'd never spent the night with him before this). He didn't laugh, in fact he crawled out of bed, undressed the panda and handed him back to me. David said it was extremely adorable when he woke up before me, to see me curled up on his bed, with the stuffed animal he'd given to me. I then spent the next year and a half toting said bear all over the place with me. He even came hiking with my parents and I, and they even didn't tell me not to bring him, in fact, they encouraged me! 

I am 25, almost 26, and I still sleep with a baby blanket and stuffed animal. My husband doesn't judge or discourage me, which is wonderful. He makes me feel safe, doesn't judge me when I want to put up the tent (he bought for me) in the living room and spend all night curled up in it. 

Essentially, 2016 has been a year of growth.

When I tell my parents "I can't do that" they don't try to force my hand, they respect my limitations, and wait until I am able to do what they asked of me. My husband helps when I'm having a rough day, and does so much, that I cannot name every single thing. I will just say this, Thank you. 

Thank you for supporting, respecting, loving, and accepting me. Always. 

Through my life, I have not been able to depend on many people, but I'm able to depend on them (and my bestir Lauren) to always have my back and lend a shoulder to cry on when I've got no other option. They're always in my corner, ready to fight the world alongside me. We've all had rough starts, but life is finally let us be in a place we've all deserved for a very, very long time.