At 32 years old, I was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder. It took 32 years of struggling with things that even I couldn’t even understand. 32 years of managing overload, meltdowns, social ineptitude, and serious executive dysfunction.
At 32 years old, I am starting this blog. I’m not writing because I want everyone in my life to know my innermost thoughts and feelings. In fact, I’ve spent most of my life hiding my thoughts and feelings. The idea of suddenly sharing all of that with everyone is enough to make me want to hide underneath my bed with my cat.
I am writing because after my diagnosis I began searching for information and resources. I wanted to learn from others. What I found instead was a mass of countless articles for parents about children with Autism. There is very little out there about adults with Autism, and even less about the every day experiences that adults (let alone women) with Autism have to contend with.
I am writing because if this blog helps even one person feel less alone, then exposing the outwardly logical, apathetic person I appear to be as the emotional wreck I actually am will be worth it.