Dear #actuallyautistic and #askanautistic

watchkeyphone:

Talk to me about your experiences with being temporarily and/or partially nonverbal?

I still can’t figure out if I’ve ever experienced it. A lot of the ‘official’ information (e.g. books) about autism doesn’t seem to mention it as a thing that sometimes happens to people who can usually speak – but it seems like the vast majority of usually-speaking autistic people mention it as a personal experience.

The closest thing I can think of that I have experienced is a few different thing:

1. When I get kind of ‘hyper-verbal’ when I’m overloaded, and my speech is very garbled and quick, and isn’t really communicating anything I want to say. E.g. I respond to a question quickly without realising and I say something that is the opposite of my actual opinion.

2. There are sometimes times when I have trouble putting a thought into words or working out how to respond to something (e.g. a vague question), but this doesn’t seem to fit the usual descriptions of being nonverbal? Because it’s normally due to the context and specific to the thing that I’m trying to say (e.g. I can’t explain one specific thing, but I can easily tell the other person that I can’t explain it), rather than a ‘global’ inability to speak.

3. Times when i am very reluctant to speak and it feels like a bit struggle to get words out. In this case its more often to do with the person I’m speaking to- usually when I’m socially tired and I really don’t want to spend the energy on interacting. But it’s not impossible for me to speak – I usually just keep my responses brief to try and stop the interaction from lasting a long time (and I can get irritable if people try to keep going).

So. Tell me about how it feels when you become nonverbal? Are you ever ‘partly’ nonverbal in any of the ways I describe? Would you consider them ‘types’ of nonverbal-ness, or just other facets of autistic communication differences? Is it possible/plausible that I’ve never been ‘fully’ nonverbal? Is it possible to have been nonverbal and not noticed? (infodumps greatly appreciated – reblogs/asks/submissions welcome)

The times I have actually experienced this are:

1. When I’m overloaded/having a meltdown/super frustrated or emotional. It’s like a ‘block’. The words are in my head, or, at least the feeling of what I want to communicate is, but I can’t make my mouth move to say them or translate what I’m feeling and force it out. When the overload or whatever passes, it eases off and talking becomes possible again, though fully unhindered speech may take time.

2. During sex, to a lesser degree. Rather than impossible, I often find forming words really hard when I’ve got all that sensory input, and taking the focus off enjoying myself and putting it into co-ordinating speech is kind of annoying, so I don’t tend to try unless I have to (i’m uncomfortable/in pain, i’m oversensitive, etc), or I’ve been asked a direct question that needs answering, like, ‘am I hurting you?’, ‘do you need more lube?’ or, ‘what do you need? (if something’s not doing it for me)’.

Akiva Goldsman’s mother, Mira Rothenberg, wrote a book that is very, very dated but which I own. It’s about her working with schizophrenic and autistic children back when no one rly knew how the fuck anything worked and it’s actually p. interesting. Both of his parents were psychology professionals, though.

actuallyclintbarton:

aaaah very cool, I did not know that!

Seconding that rec, I own that book, it’s called Children With Emerald Eyes and it’s fantastic. I wrote a long review of it on Goodreads, if you want to know more about the content. It’s hard to read at points because of the difficult subject matter, but it’s a very unusual, quality book about post-world war two child psychiatry by a very ahead-of-her-time professional. Rather than dated I’d call it historical. I own a lot of books about child psychiatry, psychology and special needs teaching/therapy (like, over 50, not even counting any of my dedicated autism books, and I’ve read many more), and I can say without hesitation that it’s in my top ten.

autisticliara:

a little post of cool stimmy things and where to find them

  • thimbles (anywhere that sells sewing or craft supplies)
  • tangle toys
  • space bracelets ( 1, 2, 3, 4 )
  • how to make rainbow suds
  • how to make/ where to buy glitter jars
  • play dough/ plasticine (any where that sells toys)
  • chew bracelets/ necklaces
  • put some craft glue ( can be found anywhere that sells craft supplies ) on your skin and pick it off throughout the day
  • if you go to a place that sells fabrics, find a fabric you like and ask for a sample, you should be able to get a little bit of that fabric free of charge instead of buying a big chunk of fabric that you don’t need (please don’t abuse this though)
  • a calming playlist

neurowonderful:

This photoset is dedicated to the people who have been sending me anonymous asks lately about how cute I am, about how nice my makeup looks in my videos, and about how they feel less-sparkly in comparison. The first two things are really nice to hear and I always appreciate sweet messages, but the last thing is sad to hear, especially from fellow chronically ill people and people with sensory issues.

These no-makeup selfies were all taken within the last twelve months. It’s important to keep in mind that I spend about an hour doing my makeup before filming my Ask an Autistic episodes, so the internet is really only ever seeing the prettiest, least-tired/sick looking version of myself. It’s the same way for lots of youtubers.

Most often I live in pyjamas, Marvin’s old t-shirts, and oversized sweatshirts, with messy hair and without a stitch of makeup to conceal the dark circles under my eyes or lengthen my eyelashes. And even in these selfies I am smiling and posed in a flattering way, so if we were speaking in person right now, I would look even farther from my appearance in my videos.

I am Amythest whether I am wearing makeup or not. Both versions are the “real me”, and I’m generally okay with how I look either way, but my youtube self is carefully crafted to be very feminine and fall in line with societal standards of beauty. I don’t look like that even three days out of the week. Please don’t compare yourself (or what kind of hygiene/beauty regime you can manage) to other people, especially not me. It’s so important to love yourself, or at least not be tearing yourself down. The world will do enough of that for us.

You are all super and great and cute, and I love you!

foundbysara:

“He has autism. I’m really surprised he was playing with you.”

This happens sometimes at work, and I’m never sure how to react. A parent (or other adult) will come up to me after I’ve been playing with their child, and point out that the child’s current behavior is really unusual for them.

Sometimes it’s young kids who just seem overwhelmed by their surroundings, and we’ll just sit together for a little bit. I’ll talk about things—their shoes, the weather, the character on their shirt—for little while, and then listen when they start talking. If they start talking—often, they don’t,and that’s okay.

Sometimes it’s a copycat game. They’ll hide from me, and I’ll hide from them. They peek out, and I peek out. They put their hands up, and I put my hands up. When they realize that everything I do is copying them, their actions get more intentional, silly, fun.

Last week there was a young man in our new Thomas the Tank Engine gallery. I talked with him for a minute, and it was immediately clear that he a.) loved trains, and b.) hated eye contact. So I stopped trying to make eye contact, and we played in parallel, not facing each other, but talking about trains, Thomas, the toys he had at home.

And it happened again, the grown-up coming up afterwards and confessing “He’s autistic, he doesn’t usually talk to people.”

And I smiled and said, “Well, it seems like he’s having fun,” because I didn’t know what else to say. And it did seem that way, and that’s great.

But I never know how to react when parents say that to me. They always seem pleased, grateful, even, and I guess they must mean it as a compliment. And if I made their day brighter, and (more importantly) their child’s day brighter, good. That’s wonderful, and it’s what I try to do with everyone who comes to the museum.

But it’s also weird, because—it’s what I do with everyone who comes to the museum. I’m not a therapist, I’m not a specialist, I’m not some mysterious Autism Whisperer. I just try to connect with kids and make their days better. I don’t have special tactics for “dealing with” autistic kids. I don’t even work in an environment where autistic kids are identified as such, except by their parents, after the fact.

So I’m literally treating these children as I would any other human: with cheer, and with kindness, with gentleness, silliness, understanding.

So when the adult says to me, “he never plays this way!” I worry.

Because I am not an extraordinary person. I am not doing anything special—just paying attention to the child, offering lighthearted interaction, responding to their needs and desires as best as I understand them. It’s how I approach every child I work with—hell, it’s how I try to approach every person I know.

So when I hear, “He never plays like this!”

I don’t really know what to say. But I hope with all my heart that its not because he’s never treated like this.

no more – a letter to suzanne wright

mim-lilly:

My favorite part:

You grabbed an autistic child’s face to make her look at you.

.
And then something miraculous happened. My girl spoke for herself. “I HATE BEING TOUCHED!” she yelled. God, I was so proud of her. So instead of leading, I followed. I loudly praised her for telling you – with words – not to touch her. I repeated her words to make sure you’d heard them, loudly and clearly, “I’m so proud of you,” I said, “for telling Mrs. Wright that you DON’T LIKE TO BE TOUCHED.”
.
It was in the car on the way back home from your house that Katie would explain to her sister that she really does like to be touched, but not without permission by people she doesn’t know. And it was then that she would turn to me, fuming and indignant and say, “Doesn’t that lady run the biggest Autism charity in the world? I don’t get it. Does she even know anything at all about autism?”   

no more – a letter to suzanne wright

I’m not wearing one of my three Neurodiversity shirts, but I am wearing my Irlen tints (always) and my therapy vest. It’s squishy and warm and comfortable, and it leaves my arms and hands free to knit, unlike a weighted blanket or whatever would. And yes, I DO wear it in public. Fuck society and the beauty standard, I’ll wear a squishy pastel rainbow vest if I want to.

Could you talk about autistic Clint Barton, please?? :D

jabberwockypie:

resplendeo:

wolfstarforever:

  • Autistic Clint building nests in high places so no one will mess with them and his carefully arranged textures will stay perfect and he’ll be farther from the noise.
  • Autistic Clint fin ding the perfect texture for his bow’s grip and spending hours rubbing it over his skin.
  • Autistic Clint’s special interest is archer and he knows everything about the different types of bows and arrows and it’s history.
  • Autistic Clint stimming by moving his fingers in complex motions and telling people he doesn’t know well it’s and archer thing when asked about it.
  • Autistic Clint holds back his infodumps to seem professional and not attract attention. At least once a week Coulson asks him if he learned anything new about archery so he can infodump freely.
  • Autistic Clint making little noises to himself as he works without knowing Natasha can hear him. She doesn’t tell him partly to not embarrass him partly because she thinks it’s adorable.
  • Autistic Clint hides in one of his nests when he has a meltdown because he feels safe there. Fury doesn’t know why Coulson is so adamant that he not have Clint’s nests removed or even touched, but complying.
  • Autistic Clint getting really excited when Captain America does a press conference and, when asked about the anti-vaxxers, calls them out on their bullshit.
  • Autistic Clint, man, autistic Clint.

okay, yeah

This makes me smile.

I want to ask Autistic Clint to explain some archery stuff to me. Maybe the history of the repeating crossbow?

Autistic Clint and the intersection between his autism and his Deafness

Autistic Clint stimming with his hands and it’s actually closer to verbal stimming than physical stimming because he’s riffing off sign words he really likes

Autistic Clint humming as a stim because he likes the vibration, not because he can really hear it

Autistic Deaf Clint!