#BehindTheScenes 64 - Neurological Deficit

It's difficult being neurodivergent and understanding a world you do not belong to. It's worse when you thought that you weren't neurodivergent, were raised with high expectations, and then smashed yourself through exhaustion, only to find out the opposite was true. This week's #BehndTheScenes reminds everyone that your life can turn out much differently than you imagined...and it might have been the better route, despite the bumps.

When I was growing up, high expectations were thrown on me.

My parents had me and my siblings young. They were in their early/mid-twenties and both of them had no formal schooling past high school. When they were growing up, the only guarantee in life was getting a college degree and working at a good job. They did not have it and they experienced life the hard way, they claimed. We would do better.

More than anything else, they wanted to prove it. I cannot remember the extent of pushing we received, but it was much more than I recall off the top of my head. I remember being yelled at the dining room table because my story was not good enough for my teacher (according to my father). There was also a third grade teacher who liked to call me an "airhead" and told me parents about it, and they, in turn, yelled at me about it. The shame still resonates in my soul right now. It's a reminder that the brain will always remember the trauma, even though you cannot.

I was an intelligent and witty child. I also had a habit of just bursting out the silliest things or the truth nobody wanted to say. Well, that's how I saw it anyway. I was always told to shut up, to the point where, after aged ten or eleven, I learned that it would be much easier if I never spoke much. It meant no bullying and abuse, right? And nobody wanted to either, right?

That was the role assigned to me in life...or, so I thought. The quiet, helpful person who stayed out of the way and apologized for existing and always worked almost 24/7 just to exist. It meant issues with my social interactions, allowing people to run me over. And if my parents had been emotional immature to begin with, I would not have good communication skills either.

I titled this blog post as "Neurological Deficit" for a reason. Let me begin with the dictionary meaning. According to the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke (2024), neurologic disorders refer "to a neurological condition caused by changes in how brain networks work, rather than changes in the structure of the brain itself" and they affect speech, balance, cognitive skills and more. Autism is defined as such, being a neurological deficit (or lacking) in many ways - lack of coordination and awkward movements, delays in verbal speech (or none at all) and even a lack of understanding in social interactions.

Now, many authors have different methods of writing and find their inspiration in certain things, or even dream them. Creativity in autism means many things. It could be savant in music. It could be the touch of a pencil or a brush. Or, it could be the imagination of worlds painted by words.

I lack many things as a person who was forced to mask her autism. I am completely shy around people I do not know (even at events and crowded spaces) and talking to someone in a regular conversation is painful. Sometimes, I stutter and say the wrong word, or utter something so blunt everyone goes quiet. If I don't watch myself, my limbs go in a different direction than what I tell them. I do take things literally and, like any autistic person who was traumatized, will take you at your word unless I force my mind to work in overdrive - who the person is, what they are talking about, etc. It feels like a show to me, having to act normal, and I panic often.

The only way I can tell the world how I feel is through my books. Situations and feelings in all of the books, even John Ronald in Revolution, are put into those books. I can organize them and put them in order so someone can understand.

Because of trauma and past experiences with other equally traumatic people, I am not keen to allow many into my inner circle. As a mother, and especially one trying to break cycles, I am careful with who enters our home and who is exposed to our son. Autism is about repeating, and I never want our son to carry the weight of others, especially the same expectations I had.

Through my books, I can tell you about my world.

And I've been through a lot. Rivalries between siblings. Overbearing and lying parents. An oppressive system. Narcissism. Psychological warfare. Having to move because of unfair circumstances. Being the person always blamed. Denying my identity. Marriage troubles and wondering if trust was worth it.

Would you consider it a deficiency, though? To have so much happen and to imagine it all differently through fictional characters and plots? Or would you see an adult playing with pop-ups and clicking magnets in my pocket as a child who cannot cope with the real world?

Neurodivergency is a rainbow, and we all touch its different colors.

Namaste, everyone! Have a great day!

#Autism #Spectrum #DifferentWays #TalkingToYou #BookSeries #FIction #Fantasy