Hello, everyone! Once again, happy Autism Acceptance Month! :D
Sorry that this post is late, I was kind of sick yesterday and unable to do much. Unfortunately, next week's post may have to be delayed as well, as I'm going out-of-state for the weekend for business.
As I mentioned in the first post this month, I have PDD-NOS (Pervasive Developmental Disorder Not Otherwise Specified), which is on the Autism Spectrum. Today, I will be talking a bit about my condition and my experiences with it.
The first thing you should know though before I begin is that PDD-NOS is the most vague of the three major ASDs. It's basically, in my opinion, a dump bucket for those who are on the spectrum, but don't met the criteria to have Autism or Asperger's. Due to time constraints, I can't go into full detail here, so you can Google the condition if you're curious.
Anyway, now to start my story (Note that all names have been changed to protect identities)...
I was always a quirky person, but was considered a fast learner. I learned how to read very quickly (even before I could speak...my first word, according to my parents, was "book"), and tended to be a fast learner in several other subjects. My parents saw me as a bright, fantastic little child who could be quiet from time to time. So, when my daycare called my parents to set up a meeting, they went in high hopes, thinking my teachers would be talking about how smart I was.
However, the meeting was something different. My teachers informed my parents that I was having trouble interacting with other kids. I wasn't being bullied, but they saw that I didn't seem to know how to interact with the other students, as well as not knowing how to answer to "why" questions (Basically, I would be able to answer a question like "Do you want a glass of milk?", but I would break down if someone asked "Why do you want milk?") and some other stuff that made my teachers think my parents should be informed.
Thankfully, my parents were not the kind of people to brush this off and took me to a doctor to get tested for some things, and my parents were told that I had PDD-NOS. As I result, I began to see a speech therapist (whose name I do not remember). Because of the therapy, I was able to gain the confidence to come out of my shell. I made quite a few friends in preschool, I became a pretty happy child, and everything was really looking up for me.
Then, when I was 4 1/2, I moved. I'm not saying how far (in your eyes, it could be any kind of move, from New York City to Houston or from Austin to San Antonio), but I moved far away from the friends I made and had to make some new ones.
So I did. I made several friends that I could fondly remember: Like Lisa and the fact that broccoli was her favorite food or the Johnson twins and their love of Superman. People tended to be quickly fascinated by my quirks, and I easily befriended everyone there. I even became a lot more creative at this point in time, and began to write stories (though they weren't very good, considering the fact that I was 4...). Things were once again looking up.
However, Kindergarten was the point where things started go go wrong. A lot of my friends from preschool didn't go to the same school I went to (For example, Lisa moved to the U.K). I also ended up having the new teacher, and she never believed a single word I said about my social life. Yeah, I had some friends, like Jake and Debbie and Ayana, but Kindergarten was the time I began to become a victim of bullying. That was the first time people weren't as accepting as others towards me and my quirks, and they went out of their way to try and avoid me as much as possible. I told my parents, but all my teacher did about it was say, "Oh, I know so-and-so would never do that!"
First grade was worse. I had only two real friends that year (one of which moved to another city at the end of the year), and a lot of the kids I had in that class hated my guts. They didn't like that I was verrrrry close to the teacher (Who was such a sweet and caring lady!) or...again, the fact that I acted differently than most of the other children. I tended to turn a blind eye towards those kids, but there was one girl that I as an older person didn't think deserved it: Samantha. Samantha was a bit of a bitch towards me at the beginning of the year, but she soon became a nice person, and even tried to become friends with me. However, I tended to group her with the other bitchy children and she received my scorn even when she did nothing wrong. I remember one time that she invited me to a party, and I outright told her I wouldn't go because one of my best friend's parties was on the same day, without even considering her feelings... Samantha (you know who you are), if you're reading this...I'm sorry.
During second grade, the bullying became worse. One kid put chewed gum in my hair after another kid (who didn't like me) dared her to do it (Thankfully, a nice girl told me about what happened), kids made fun of me when I cried about my group having to go last for a project once, et cetera. I had some friends, but at this point, I tended to have a preference towards being alone, which was something that bothered my parents. So, they tried to give me a new best friend named Alanna. Alanna was nice, but she moved away after second grade, so the friendship didn't last very long.
During third grade, the bullying was still persistent, but I did have a new best friend: Regina. I absolutely LOVED Regina. We had similar interests, similar personalities... we were kind of interchangeable. Yes, other kids got to make fun of me by telling me to smile my weird smile or hug random kids, which was something I thought was kind of normal (my mindset was: "They're laughing, so they must be friendly!"), but I still had Regina, and that was okay for me...until the summer. I went to a Girl Scout camp with Regina, and she completely changed. She pushed me around, insulted me until I cried, the works! I ended up cutting her from my life afterwards, and she moved to Arkansas about a year later. I haven't heard from her since.
Weird enough, during fourth grade, most of the bullying stopped. I don't know what happened with most of the kids, but a lot of people just began to accept me for who I was. I made some new friends, and I was able to tolerate a strict teacher. I was completely happy, and life couldn't have been better.
However, the summer before fifth grade, I had an epiphany. I realized that during all of the years I was bullied, everyone was laughing AT me, not WITH me... and realizing that made me really angry, angry to the point where I changed. I began to talk differently, dress differently... act differently. I was upset at myself for not realizing that I was always to oddball, that I was the laughing stock.
Fifth grade was the time where I became a pretty snappy person. I didn't start fights or anything, but I always watched my back and hated anyone that I thought was talking down to me. I made new friends because I wasn't the "weird" kid that I used to be, but I didn't really know that I still retained my quirks, like my preference to be alone and my, well, "weird" interests (Like manga or older cartoons). I thought I was becoming normal, and that was what I wanted to be at the time: normal, so I wouldn't be made fun of again...and that was what I still wanted to be when I made it up to middle school.
I won't talk about my middle school experience yet, though, since I want to incorporate that into another blog post this month. Thank you for reading this week! XD
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