“Pleased to meet me..”

Hello, I’m Annie and welcome to my blog.

As a child I would often greet new people by wiggling my  NHS spectacles at them from behind my ears while holding out my hand and exclaiming “Pleased to meet me”. I thought it was hilarious because I’d seen the TV comic Eric Morecambe do it and he always got a laugh. However, what I failed to understand was that people didn’t find it just as hilarious when I did it. I was an odd kid then and now I’m a self-confessed odd adult who’s writing this blog for anyone of any age who has ever felt like an outsider, a freak, an oddity or even (as many autistic people often describe themselves) an alien.

I’ve been through some very emotionally painful times in my childhood, teens, twenties, thirties, forties and hope that by sharing these experiences I can help people feel less alone in their own difficulties with feeling different from others and maybe struggling with issues such as anxiety, depression, OCD, ADHD and Autism Spectrum Condition (a.k.a Asperger Syndrome). I’m going to be talking about the difficulties I’ve encountered at all stages of my life; from childhood and teenage years to the present. Therefore, I hope there’ll be something here in future blogs for all ages to relate to.

So…pleased to meet me!

This year I turned 50 years old. A new decade hopefully bringing with it a new perspective and an understanding of why my life has turned out like it has; because this is the year I’m to be assessed for Autism Spectrum Condition (or Asperger Syndrome to call it by its old name) . It’s a contentious and often controversial condition with much written about it in books and on the internet. To summarise very simply it’s a condition which affects the way a person communicates with others and how they understand and process the world around them.

Autism Spectrum Condition isn’t something you catch or develop over time. It’s a lifelong condition with no known cure and it’s present right from birth. That means there are signs in childhood. These need to be taken into consideration as part of a diagnostic assessment and looking back I did show signs. However, because I’m female, because I’m verbal and reached all the normal developmental milestones (such as walking and talking), and because not much was known about autism being a spectrum condition in the 1970s when I was a child, it went undetected. When people think of the word autism they either think of a genius savant such as the character in the film Rainman, or they think of a person who is severely learning impaired who talks very little. In some ways they are right as autism can look like that when it is more extreme. Nowadays autism is seen as a spectrum and people without a severe learning disability or impaired verbal skills are more likely to be diagnosed with Autistic Spectrum Condition. However having ASC can be extremely debilitating. At best having ASC can prevent a person from enjoying meaningful relationships, holding down a job, finding love, having a family and at worst it can lead to chronic low self esteem and anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and even suicide itself.

Autism may be a spectrum but to be recognised as a ‘Syndrome” or “Condition” it stands to reason that there needs to be symptoms/traits that are common to all those with autism. Those traits put simply are difficulties with people (communication), change and sensory issues. This triad of traits may look like this :

In a person with severe autism- They may have great difficulty communicating with others and constantly scream or lash out in frustration and cannot live independently. They may live is assisted living or have a full time carer. The tiniest of change in their day such as discovering the local shop is out of their favourite biscuits or a cancelled appointment could send them into a complete meltdown. Thirdly, they could also have a similar meltdown reaction to a loud unexpected sound such as that of an engine backfiring.

In a person with ASC – Their lack of communication skills may have resulted in them being bullied at school and then in the workplace. It may also have resulted in them leaving or being sacked from a multitude of jobs. Maybe they are unable to find a partner in life and may have been through many failed relationships including friendships. Or this lack of communication skills results in relationship problems with their spouse or partner. Then added to this are the change issues. Maybe they get aggressive when they are interrupted from doing a task, maybe they have a meltdown in the office because a change has happened which they can’t cope with. Then added to this are the sensory issues of maybe feeling overwhelmed in shops and supermarkets because there is simply too much visual and audio information coming into their brain all at once. Maybe they will only eat a very restricted diet or maybe they have difficulty processing speech from background noise which just makes their social difficulties worse. It’s also important to understand that all these traits- difficulties with people change and sensory issues-have to be present from birth as no one develops autism or ASC over time.

So, how were ASC traits evident in my own childhood? I’ll start by telling you a little bit in this blog but I will talk in much more length about it in future blogs. I’ve called my blog Baggy Trousers because as a child I obsessively wore huge baggy riding britches (even though I rarely went horse riding). Therefore these strange pantaloons sort of encapsulate the very essence of my oddness from a very young age when most of my peers wore pretty dresses and “girl stuff” .When I wasn’t wearing my school uniform or pyjamas I was in these huge beige unflattering Y shaped things. After much pestering, cajoling and coercion from me, my mother conceded as she thought them practical and hard wearing. I can still remember the day we went to the local equestrian supplies shop and my mother dipped into the second hand tub and pulled out a pair several sizes too big. (The thinking was I’d grow into them and get maximum wear). This local shop was a sort of Horsey Mecca for the equestrian crazed me and was a place I often frequented to stroke and sniff the new leather bridles, saddles and other horsey wares. I was a child who loved the sensory pleasure of smelling things and even now as an adult I love to smell certain things too like new books and stationary. (Nothing quite like a visit to WH Smith for a good sniff). Anyway the smell of the leather was utterly intoxicating, thrilling and addictive for this child who rarely got to ride and was the next best thing. As a family we were neither rich nor poor but riding lessons were quite an expense to fork out each week. Just as well because to be honest I was a terrible rider and couldn’t stay vertical on a pony for very long! In fact, the instructor at the local riding  school told my mother I was the worst “rider” she had ever taught and maybe another hobby would be more beneficial for your daughter? But come rain, shine or public humiliation I still wore the britches whatever I was doing, whether I was running errands to the shops or going to Mass on a Sunday.

As a child people described me as a “character” a “crazy mixed up kid”, “in a world of her own” but I never understood why. I thought by wearing the britches I looked aristocratic and people would think I owned my own pony and won rosettes at Cheshire gymkhanas. Everyone has hobbies and interests but those on the autistic spectrum indulge in them in quite a driven, obsessive and sometimes unproductive way to the exclusion of everything else. As a child I constantly talked about horses, watched TV horse racing, show jumping and any horse related drama such as “Flambards” “White Horses” and “Black Beauty”. I also collected toy horses, horse books and pictures, played at riding horses at every single school break time, scoured the school and local library for every horse book I could find and even bought horse accessories such as grooming equipment for my non existent pony. Some kids have imaginary friends, I had those but I also had an imaginary pony called Peanut. Also, if  anything had four legs or could even remotely resemble a horse I sat on it or patted it. There’s a picture in the family album somewhere of me in a bright orange cagoule, obligatory britches and wellies slapping the flank of a stone lion and another one of me sitting on it during a holiday in North Wales. I was about ten at the time. I also used to strap my Sindy doll and saddle to the back of our Jack Russell terrier and make him jump over makeshift hurdles in our back yard. No wonder he used to bite me quite frequently. No four legged creature was safe around me. It would get saddled up and turned into a horse before you could say tally ho!

My life ambition then was to be the first woman jockey to win the Grand National . So how exactly was I going to achieve this with my very limited equestrian skills? I hadn’t really thought it through. I still do that a lot. Not dream of being a jockey  but think up wild elaborate plans and ideas without really thinking them through. A bit like this blog really. This is my first attempt at writing one and instead of reading up on how to do it like a sensible person I’m just diving in writing it and learning as I go hoping that my experiences might help and resonate with others. I’m not sure how long a blog should be and I have a lot to tell so I’ll divide it into small manageable chunks just like a Toblerone. Actually that’s not a good analogy is it? The smallest Toblerone comes in tiny manageable chunks but the largest one has massive chunks that sometimes need to be surgically removed from ones mouth. Confectionary aside, manageable chunks will help both you and me – it will help me to get my thoughts in order and it will help you the reader if it’s boring the socks off you at times. I’ll write more in future posts about how I think ASC has affected me over the years and the diagnosis (if I get one) plus I’ll talk about other mind/mental stuff like anxiety and depression etc.

I write this on my iPad sitting on the sofa. The iPad is being supported underneath by my little Yorkshire Terrier who likes to sit on my lap. Luckily for him I have grown out of my horsey phase and you’ll be pleased to know I don’t strap a Sindy doll to his back. I do however dress him in little jumpers when its cold. Told you no four legged creature was safe around me!

Thanks for your company today!

Love Annie x