Diagnosis

I am 32 years old and for the first time in my life I have come to an understanding about why I am different to everyone else. It has taken 32 years for both myself and my parents to realise that I am on the autistic spectrum………and I'm not alone. In fact it is very common for women not to realise until they are in their 30s and even 40s that they are on the autistic spectrum.

This is because women on the spectrum seem to be better at mimicking social norms than our male counterparts, and quickly learn to fool, not only the world into believing that we are ‘normal’ (although a little quirky), but also ourselves. Often it’s not until will have a child, usually a son, diagnosed on the spectrum that we come to the realisation that we ourselves are also on the spectrum. It is through our quest for knowledge to better understand them, that we arrive at a better understanding of ourselves.

Many are happy with a self-diagnosis – but not me. There are a number of reasons why I want an official diagnosis. Firstly, although I am absolutely certain that I am on the spectrum, I need it to be confirmed, because then the question ‘why do I feel different to everyone else’ will have been officially answered and I can be at peace with my different self. Secondly, I want to write about this experience, as I am doing in this blog, to help others in the same boat, and to spread the awareness, and I will have more credibility with a diagnosis. Thirdly, there is a theory that autism affects four times as many men/boys as women/girls and I believe the stats are out because high functioning girls are better at hiding it, and there are many women out there on the spectrum that don’t even realise that they are.

So how to get a diagnosis? It’s not as straight forward as it was for my son. For him it was easy. I had to do a lot of pushing to get him moved up waiting lists, but as soon as anyone saw him they were straight away in complete agreement that he was on the spectrum and in need of additional support. His paediatrician even said that he could tell he was on the spectrum as soon as he met him because he has an American accent, despite being proudly Welsh. I knew it wasn’t going to be as straight forward a process for myself, being a full time working mother and wife who has learnt quite well how to appear ‘normal.’

A couple of months ago I had a GP appointment to request an assessment for diagnosis. My mother came with me to fill in the background of my childhood and a referral was made to get the processes moving. It was a gruelling appointment that focussed on everything that has ever been wrong with me, but it was a necessary first step. The GP was completely on board with my self-diagnosis, but she was doubtful that the psychiatrist I was to see would be equally supportive of an adult seeking a diagnosis who was already ‘functioning’ in the world. She didn’t think I would be taken seriously.

Thankfully she was very wrong. Last week I had my first appointment with the psychiatrist and she was lovely. This time both my husband and my mother came with me, and again we went over all my life problems, and she was both receptive and understanding. Surprisingly she told me that she has as many as two adults a month coming to her for a diagnosis on the autism spectrum. I found this very encouraging, as I think it shows that awareness is spreading, and more and more people are going to be getting the help and support they need. Unfortunatly she also told me that I was only the second woman she had seen.

We covered a lot of the same ground that we did with the GP, but it was a little easier this time round. My mother filled in my childhood, I told her how I feel, and my husband told her what a nightmare I am to live with. I will be seeing her again in a couple of weeks to talk about the anxiety and depression I suffer from as part of the condition, and she has referred me to someone who has a special interest in the autistic spectrum to be assessed for a diagnosis. I was thrilled with the way the appointment went, because I am now actually on my way to getting a diagnosis.

However, what really surprised me was that at the end of the session she said ‘I just have one more burning question for you…where does you’re accent come from?’ Throughout my life people have questioned my accent, always failing to place it correctly, and often identified it as being either American or Australian. The psychiatrist could not have been more shocked when I told her I grew up in South Wales. I attribute this to the way I become extremely engrossed in my TV shows and films to the point that it becomes more real to me than the real world. So much so that I pick up the accent (and anyone who really knows me knows 'I don't watch British programmes)........and my son is the same….so I guess things aren’t going as differently for us as I thought they would!