Kelly, neurotypical: When I met Josh, he lived a highly structured life. He had a regimented daily schedule, exercising at the same time every day and eating simple, repetitive meals. Josh was preparing for a bodybuilding event and worked as a personal trainer at a local gym while completing his undergraduate degree in exercise science - so the daily routine made sense and I didn't question it.
Josh had a roommate, but they both kept to themselves, and Josh seemed very focused on his work, his studies, his personal goals, his dogs, and me. His home was peaceful, with very little disorder that I could see and possessions well cared for. I enjoyed spending time with him there.
Now that I understand him better, I know that Josh had insulated himself from those things that are triggers for him. He didn't do work that required him to socialize with large groups of people. His home was quiet and peaceful. He kept a strict daily routine and there were no surprises or disruptions. And then I came along...
After we got married and had lived together for a few months, things started to go downhill. Or rather, I demolished Josh' way of life. I didn't understand (and therefore, didn't properly respect:
how crucial quiet time / sensory detox time was for Josh and I constantly talked, had music or the TV on, made phone calls, etc.
the importance of his dietary habits, I filled the pantry and fridge with carbs and delicious things (I'm Italian), and corrupted his clean eating.
how crucial a regular and dependable schedule was to him. I'd complain if he wanted to go to the gym and I wanted him to stay home and do something with me, etc.
...To be fair, Josh had lived in the bubble of his own making for so long, I don't think he really understood his own needs. He certainly wasn't able to articulate them, then, the way that he is now able to (after lots of therapy, introspection, and research). And when he did try to tell me what he needed (routine, dependable schedule, alone time, quiet), I didn't respect those requests the way that I should have. I didn't understand the fact that they were true needs, and a requirement of his wellbeing.
In essence, trying to cope with cohabitating with me led to his first major meltdown during our marriage.
In 2017, Josh had taken a job that wasn't a good fit to try to alleviate some of our financial concerns. We were constantly fighting and seemed to be unable to enjoy each other's company anymore. We rarely conversed and were never affectionate, and we didn't do much of anything together other than to watch TV. Josh didn't want to go out socially with his friends or family or mine. At the time, I had no idea what was wrong, but I was fixated on what I thought was hostility that I felt coming from Josh, and I was angry, too.
Finally, on Christmas Eve of 2017, we returned home from my parents' festivities (where Josh was sullen and quiet, and I was angry), and Josh broke down and admitted to me that he was experiencing suicidal ideations.
Fortunately, with the help of family, we quickly found a therapist, and the first one we found was a good fit for Josh. The combination of her expertise and guidance and Josh's hard work (and mine) saved Josh's life and our marriage.
Josh didn't proceed to a diagnostician for his ASD until 2019 (over a year and a half after he hit what was rock bottom at the time). They were a brutally hard few years filled with self-doubt, resentment, anger, and grief - but, ultimately, they led to a fresh start.
This photo was taken in November of 2017 at an event I dragged Josh too, shortly before he finally shared with me how unwell he truly was. This picture breaks my heart because I see no life or spark in Josh' eyes and I remember how lethargic he was at the event. I thought, at the time, that he was pouting because he didn't want to come. In reality, he was suicidal and trying his hardest to mask it, or to be and do what he thought I wanted from him. I'm so grateful that I have had the opportunity to learn about ASD so that we can be better to each other than we were then, when we didn't know how to take care of each other (or ourselves).
What I wish I'd known (Josh): When I hit rock bottom, I wish I'd known that it never had to be that way. If I'd understood myself and ASD I would have known how to cope with a big life change like marriage all along. It probably still would have been a rocky transition, but I would have at least been prepared. I was completely blindsided.
Josh, neurodivergent: For as long as I can recall I have struggled with depression. It was at its worst about a decade ago. My neurologist (for epilepsy) suggested that I should consider testing to see if I was on the spectrum. I saw it as my only option left, and I had hit rock bottom. If this could make sense of anything I was all for it. I didn’t want to feel how I always had, and knew it was no longer tenable.
The process of testing was rough at times, but I was optimistic that this was the best option for me. After months of testing and sessions I had my final meeting to go over findings. I remember clearly how gently he tried to explain everything and really went out of his way to prepare me. In all truthfulness, I was unphased and unbothered by anything. To me, a label has little meaning. I am what I am, and what you call me has no bearing on that. Being told I was on the spectrum was a breath of fresh air I can’t begin to properly explain. By the time I left so much guilt, shame, and depression was alleviated. It really was that impactful and immediate. To me, I finally had a reason why my entire life had been hell. It wasn’t that I didn’t fit in, but that the world didn’t fit me. I found it all very humorous and felt as if I had just gotten the punch line to a monumental joke. I had been willing to end my own life to be free of it all, more times than I prefer to admit, and this replaced that. I guess in my head, on that day, I ended the life that I had created for decades to try to fit in and embraced what I am.
I have never been one to have tons of friends, but tend to keep very select close friends. It wasn’t long before I shared my diagnosis with many of them. I have never been a good judge of character, I think because I am too literal and this really showcased that. A friend from high school, one of the only people I stayed in touch with from that time, stuck with me the most. She was my best friend for so long and knew me maybe better than anyone has in my entire life. When I told her, she laughed and said “sweetie, I know. I always have. It’s probably why I love you.” Most people were really cool about it, but not all. One, after I told him, essentially told me I shouldn’t expect special treatment, which took a while for me to understand. While it was strange that those who acted negatively did, I was glad for it and that I finally saw their character which in a few cases was the last time. I cut ties and moved on. I am better for it.
To anyone who has recently been diagnosed or has not been tested yet and probably should, look at your mindset. To me, that is really all autism is. I could continue to look at the world as rejecting me and something I just couldn’t make work. Or I could see it for what I believe it is and that the world doesn’t fit me. When I became aware of my limitations I left the negativity behind and began to focus on not what doesn’t fit, but what does and damn my life is so much better for it.
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