Living On The Spectrums

I probably have autism. I feel both stupid and relieved for having written that down. I suspect my ADHD is partially fueled by my autism. When I think about expanding on the reasons why I think I am autistic, I feel completely trapped. I don’t think my autism is a medical problem. I don’t think my autism needs to be treated. I think my autism is a personal journey of self discovery that no medical professional could possibly understand.

I am biased here. As a trans man, I have experienced a lot of harm from the medical community. I have had medical professionals refuse to perform procedures on my body because it made them too uncomfortable. A body is a body and this is your job. But fine, I will give myself this ultrasound, go ahead and tell me what to do.

It’s deeper than that. I was raised with a healthy dose of medical skepticism. Yes, go to the doctor when you are sick. Maybe once a year for preventative care. But in the grand scheme of things the best way to be and stay healthy is to not need the doctor. I’ve relocated my own knees, removed my own stitches. I do my T injections at home and still rely on whiskey for most minor ails.

Transitioning was exhausting. Not only are you required to meet with a therapist regularly, you suddenly find yourself needing to be in the doctor’s office every 3 months. There is constantly something to be checked, or some concern to follow up on. Plus the ever present fear that if you don’t do exactly as they say they won’t give you access to your medically necessary hormones. I had it easy. My hiccups were typically one off encounters with obscure specialists. The scrutiny has let up some in moving to the Netherlands, but how much of that is the pandemic keeping everyone out of the office?

Why would I want to start another process just like that? As an adult with potentially undiagnosed autism, what actual benefit do I get from having some person that doesn’t know me tell me whether they agree with me or not? Even if that person is a medical professional, I know enough to know that we have no idea what autism actually looks like. We don’t know how many people fall on the spectrum, we don’t know what the full spectrum even entails. I do know that social interactions have forever eluded me. I do know that I’m “an acquired taste.” I do know that when Hannah Gadsby got to the line “What if the penguin ate the box?” a small child inside me cried and cheered.