30 Days of Autism Acceptance Challenge - Day 3: My diagnosis/discovery story

So I kind of covered most of this in Day 1; I'll elaborate a bit more, but there's not much else I wish to disclose for privacy reasons. If you read Day 1, it's pretty much the same here.

I was diagnosed 17 years ago, at age 17; growing up I felt the most secure by myself, but had a lot of trouble fitting in, reading other people, making friends, and some executive function issues, along with sensitivity to being in claustrophobic spaces and around loud noises.

As a kid, autism was not a word tossed around a lot; in fact, aside from the errant Rain Man reference, autism wasn't brought up. The image conjured up in most people's heads was a non-speaking white male child who rocked, hummed, hit themselves and generally was treated more as an NPC (Non-Playable Character for those unfamiliar) than a human being with thoughts, dreams, wishes.

So when my family and I considered being diagnosed, the first couple of trips to psychologists and psychiatrists for my diagnosis didn't go as planned.

The first doctor declared that it wasn't me, but my parents who were the problem - a welcome endorsement for a then-13-year-old. However, this was not the case; even at that age, I knew my parents were not the cause of my difficulties, my issues ‘fitting in’ or making long-term friends, among others. They loved me, worked to provide for me, and always had my back.

The second doctor, honestly, probably needed to go back to college. After describing issues I had, he declared that what I needed wasn't medication, nor some sort of therapy, but BOOT CAMP. Why? Well, because it worked for his son. Apparently bias and control groups were not something he learned while getting his degree.

Fortunately, my dad considered this to be a non-starter and a clear indicator of what he called “sub-standard bullshit not worth the co-pay”. He made it clear that while I had difficulties, my behaviors didn't warrant something as drastic or radical as being sent off to boot camp, and found such a suggestion completely unacceptable.

Finally, the last doctor we talked with diagnosed me as Autistic (at that time, I fell into the DSM-IV category of Asperger's Syndrome), and instead of the usual doom-and-gloom lectures given by most medical professionals, he told me what I and my parents needed to hear most: “You have autism. You will be able to grow up, get a job, live on your own, get married if you want to, have kids if you want to. Autism is a part of who you are, and you have always been autistic. There are some things that you may need help with, but having autism in no way means you cannot have a life you choose.”

Afterward, my mom took us out for ice cream - this was a time of joyous discovery, finally an answer to the questions that lurked around me my entire life - why do I feel so different from other people, and why is it so difficult to understand them? Why am I different? Is there something wrong with me?

We had something to research, to explore, a major facet of who I am to seek out and study. Despite societal pressures, the way my doctor and my parents handled my diagnosis made a major positive impact on how I viewed autism, and how I viewed myself.

We had something to research, to explore, a major facet of who I am to seek out and study. Despite societal pressures, the way my doctor and my parents handled my diagnosis made a major positive impact on how I viewed autism, and how I viewed myself.

Nearly two decades later I realize I was incredibly fortunate to get such a diagnosis; imagine how we would be treated if this was the way most diagnoses went!

- Leo Jones