The Education Punchline

The title says at all as I’m a good example of why the United States public education system is a joke. Being autistic and ADHD in the 90s and being undiagnosed was such a weird time mainly because accurate information wasn’t out there and then there was the “Ritalin epidemic” which probably only hindered my opportunities at being diagnosed. I had so much to navigate and little to no support… How did I make it to 31 safely and seemingly turned out okay? How did Autistics before me and/or less privelaged than I manage? It’s a lot to think and worry about especially when you consider things aren’t much better today.

The first day of school. I remember watching kids shows and seeing commercials where kids looked excited to go to school and was excited to go. I had been in preschool but it wasn’t even for 1/2 a day and I was home, which was the schedule I expected and seemed okay with but boy was I wrong. We tackled the letter “A” of the alphebet people the FIRST DAY. I can remember trying to join in on playtime with others like playing house but they didn’t like me playing the dad, tried playing with Dino’s and trains with the boys but my calling out types of dinosaurs lead me to be asked to leave that group too. By the end of the day, I was at my desk drawing by myself and little did I know then that this establishment of where I was going to be socially in school.

A couple years in only got worse. I was sick a lot from ear infections and sinus stuff which sucked but got me out of school. I hated school already by this point and embraced feeling shitty to go home and get away from the hell that was school. Different kids and different teachers never helped which only told me the problem was me. I didn’t do well in school. I can remember being requested to be held back in first grade and My parents refused for reasons I can’t remember. Teachers would say things like “she draws on her work too much. It’s messy. That’s why her grade got knocked down”, “all she wants to do is daydream. She never listens to anything I have to say!”, “She goes to the beat of her own drum.”….. I hated that one. Hated. I didn’t want to go to the beat of a different drum. I wanted my drum beat to not make me so different for adults and other kids to say things. By 2nd grade, I was sitting against the wall just drawing while everybody else played. I had tried to play many times but it resulted in being made fun of until I cried (calling me fat, stupid, and scary) and pushed off of playground equipment until it knocked the wind out of me. After enough times, I’d gotten the message that I was different and not welcome and to avoid that, I did my drawings against the wall during recess. I was always drained and tired and wanted to go home but couldn’t.

I got into comics a little bit. There were a couple of other kids against the wall as well for either in trouble or were just reading. I remember being shown comics like spawn, spiderman, and X-Men. I REALLY gravitated to the X-Men and felt like I looked like mystique to everyone else but when I looked in the mirror I looked normal. How they fought to be included and ACCEPTED and it really set the groundwork for me accepting my undiagnosed young autistic self. Wolverine was one of my favorites and loved the name Logan. Nightcrawler was my all time favorite.

I made my first group of real friends in 5th grade. People that I didn’t have to force myself to play dolls with or be directed by other kids in play. We just genuinely hung out and had similar interests. “This is what friendship should be” I told myself after not having that experience before. Some kids were nice to me in my younger years but I think ditched me to keep their place in kid elementary society. I don’t blame them either. They were just kids like I was and there were times I did the same thing until I figured all of that out.

While socially I was doing better than I had at that point, my grades were worse. I was officially not passing instead of just getting D+’s and at best was getting a D-. I had dragged on through the system for 4 years. My mom got me a tutor and I’d spend HOURS after school doing homework to try and catch up and pass. It was hell for everyone involved but especially me and my mom. It got to a point where she’d end up doing 90% of the assignment because it dragged on and I was already drained from school and didn’t have it in me to continue after school to do more schoolwork. I ended up barely passing that year. A D-. I should’ve been held back but I wasn’t. This same year, I had the worst bully of them all and started having black out spells (ended up being absence seizures but didn’t know until adulthood either). This bully would use my seizures as an excuse to volunteer to be my bathroom partner Incase I had a seizure in the bathroom. She’d copy my work which contributed to my bad grades (either we got caught cheating and both got in trouble, I’d purposely give wrong answers cuz she was cheating, or eventually gave up and didn’t care to do the work because of the above scenarios). When we dissected things she would take the knife and cut my legs under the table with it. My mom was constantly in the office bickering with them about doing something about this girl because she was so brutal to me. Nothing was done by the school system and on the last day of school she was messing with me at lunch and I told the lunch lady and we both got sent to the office… Which was a huge mistake but this time, it wasn’t in her favor. She grabbed the big gymnasium door as I was walking through and pulled it against and on me, squeezing me between the door and the frame. I was DONE. After a whole year of no one protecting me or helping me, instincts kicked in and I leaped onto that girl and started hammer fisting and punching her face. The next thing I remember is being dragged into the office by 3 teachers treating me like a wild animal along the way and scolding me.. until we got to the office with my mom who just so happened to be talking to the principal about this girl AGAIN.. saw me and saw her face and said to the principal “this is what happens when you ignore a child being bullied for an entire school year. And if my child gets in any trouble for this after everything she’s been through this year, we can have at it in court.” And I never heard a word about that scenario or that girl the next year in Jr high or ever again

I don’t remember much about my first year of 6th grade outside of one of my oldest friends. We met because I was drawing a Pikachu in math class. I had caught mono really early on in the year and was really sick that whole school year. Even after 6 months I could only do half days and I think with school being draining for me as it already was while still recovering from mono, I drained super easily. I had missed so much school they weren’t even taking doctors notes. Luckily, my parents were moving and we were getting out of the city and into the country. It was the perfect opportunity to be held back and I’m so glad my parents finally agreed to do it. I shouldn’t have been excited it for it but it had been so long of me falling further and further behind, I knew I needed it.

The next year of 6th grade repeated was the best school year yet at that point in my life. I made sure to be more outgoing in this school system so hopefully kids wouldn’t hate me so much. I also started actually passing classes and getting a couple A’s! Still got some D’s but it was mainly B’s and C’s which REALLY boosted my confidence after having D’s for so long. Due to missing so much school the year prior and moving to a new district, I never learned cursive as they had learned cursive already in 5th grade. Luckily, I’ve never ever used or needed cursive so I’m so glad I didn’t needlessly learn that.

The rest of Junior high was fine. I loved art and my art teacher was probably the best teacher I’ve ever had in my life. Our last year of Jr high, a student had committed suicide and it is an understatement to say it affected the entire school. Unfortunately, due to my home life and being taught emotions are bad, I didn’t handle this properly. I shut down and couldn’t even verbalize half the time. I couldn’t cry despite wanting to. I had my mom was there for me but when my dad calls my friend who’s just passed away a “pussy”, I wasn’t allowed to express my grief at home either and it started to swallow me. I’d always been depressed in my life but this was probably the second biggest pit of my life. I began to bang my head on lockers just to drown out as much as I could. I barely spoke to anybody. My art and science teachers were the ones who not only recognized something was wrong but they gave me safe spaces out of class when I needed them during the mourning process and called my mom on days where I shouldn’t have even been sent to school and needed to go home. My art teacher really encouraged my art when up until that point, I’d just been drawing just to draw. I didn’t have any confidence in anything I was doing or any reason to do it other than I enjoyed it but getting A’s in her class meant a lot to me and my teacher taught me the value of slowing down “just a little bit” and giving my art that little extra love and care it deserves instead of rushing something and completing the assignment the first run through. Id never visually seen patience pay off until this point and it really helped me even more in school in general… I didn’t have to rush on an assignment to get it done by the Bell in art and it was sooooooooooo nice.

Now, in high school, I academically did fine. However, the principal and the assistant principal failed me multiple times and we’re gonna get into that. I’m also going to say that I failed art in 9th grade and it killed my desire for art. I’m sorry but I thought I’d get that out of the way first before we get into the real bad stuff. Also, TRIGGER WARNING FOR SEXUAL ASSAULT. I was heavily failed by the heads of my high school on multiple occasions. The first time was on school grounds in 9th grade. My mom got the cops involved for “justice”. I just wanted to be left alone. When it went to court, all I asked for and ever asked for was the boy to get counseling. My mom tried to go to the school about it first to which they told her that “he’s an A-B, student and she’s more of a C-D student” and they weren’t going to do anything plus told the cops that when they interviewed the heads of the school. The incident hit a forum for our county at the time where adults and other students bashed me online. They didn’t even know my side… It was a million reasons why it was my fault and I was a piece of garbage for doing anything about it. I lost all my my friends over it. I was ashamed and because of everything that had transpired with the whole online forum caused me to where I couldn’t come out when someone who claimed to be my friend tried to do more than just assault me 3 years later after inviting me at his house to play video games with him and a bunch of our friends (he lied there were no friends there). I didn’t feel like I could tell anybody and not when it happened 3 days before I was moving to another state and not when this 6’3 football playing freshman used me just turning 18 my senior year (cuz I was held back and such) to silence me. It was a horrible situation to be left in and no child should have to feel like they can’t tell their parents or ANY adult at school in fear of what would happen especially after something like that.

I was also expelled for posting song lyrics on my Myspace page. I got called to the office during lunch like a month before the last day of school my junior year. My parents were already there in the office and as I sat down, the principal and assistant principal smuggly whipped out a 3 page printout of my Myspace page like they’d REALLY caught me being as bad as they thought. They had highlighted random things from my myspace printout and pointed to each one and was told that because of these, I was a threat to the school and was to leave and not come back the rest of the year. What did they highlight? Various lyrics to various metal songs from bands I listened to. I’m not even joking. These clowns even dragged the city police down and the police said there was no threat AND THE PRINCIPAL STILL TOLD ME TO LEAVE THE SCHOOL. My father was furious but because he was so disengaged with aspects of our lives for so long that he didn’t realize that’s how the school systems were and had been for me this whole time. I wasn’t even going to fight them anymore. Had I lied about a few dumb things here and there like students who get caught doing stupid dumb teenage things do? Yes. Id never deny that but they treated me like an animal. A girl bullied my friend and they did nothing so I tried to talk to the girl who decided to punch me in the face instead and I retaliate and who’s in trouble? Me. Guy slings girls books across the hall daily but my friend stands up to them bullying people and this guy and his sack of potato friends circle my 1 friend and I GRAB THIS GUYS SHIRT TO TELL HIM TO LEAVE PEOPLE ALONE and who gets in school suspension? Me. I didn’t look for fights or start them but I didn’t like seeing others getting bullied or ganged up on either and would absolutely finish them. They even called me a liar for saying I try not to judge people based on how they look based on how I’d been treated. I was called a liar daily when I had returned for 2 months my senior year during lunch for not moving. We were supposed to move over the summer and the house didn’t sell so we were stuck for a couple months longer. Every single day it was “I thought you were moving?”, “You’re not really moving”, “stop saying you’re moving”, etc until in October when everything was ready for us to move.

Two months into my senior year we moved to the south. My new school in the state we moved to couldn’t figure out which classes I did or didn’t have credits for so they moved me all the way back to a freshman. Yeah. You read that right. I was 2 months in my senior year and reduced to a freshman because they couldn’t figure out how to disperse the credits I earned from my old school into their system. I tried by doing catch-up classes but I had surgery that December that same year which left me 2 months out of school and held back again. I had enough at that point, was old enough to drop out myself, signed myself out of school, and immediately went and started GED classes that same day. I went to those for a month and took my test, graduating my senior year with a GED and scoring within the top 10% of graduating seniors that year. Many people may frown upon a GED but I’m so incredibly proud of mine.

So, that’s my long journey of 13 years in public school. I think getting older and just maturing helped a lot and I was able to focus easier once I realized I learned different ways and how to learn to remember things that worked for me. I had a great group of outcast friends in high school that really helped me out and I came out of my dark depressive pit at around the middle of 10th grade. I couldn’t have asked for a better group of kids to spend my high school years with! Overall, I think if more teachers were equipped to teach kids who learned in different ways and recognized the worth of every student and shows them what they’re capable of matter how disinterested they seem… We’d be seeing a decline in the dropout rate and we would see kids passionate and excited about school again.

The Gender Experience

I’ve never ever really opened up about this aspect. It’s an idea that was shunned in my home growing up to an extent. It’s confusing but I’m going to try. I am non-binary. My father has conservative views on gender identity. I have always been and felt different… Since I can remember (which is before my youngest sibling was born). The best way I can explain what I’m like… I see myself as neither male or female. I can be masculine or feminine but I don’t think intentionally or directly which one I want to be. I don’t even remember I having my lady parts unless they’re affecting me, weird to hear for some.. right? Let’s start diving.

At a VERY young age I PROTESTED wearing dresses. I fought until I got to an age where my mom couldn’t fight me to get dressed anymore so she FINALLY gave up slowly but surely. It took almost all my life for my mom to fully let go of the little girl she expected to have and my father and I have NEVER discussed this. I wanted short hair since I can remember too but I was NOT allowed to cut my hair above the shoulders even well past 18 but because I lived at home they called the shots. I distinctly remember it being the early 90s and riding by our local ice cream store/putt putt golf place down the street from ours and I saw 3 people wearing all black, piercings, tattoos, mohawks, etc and fell in love. I’ve been obsessed with the style since. In elementary school I begged my mom relentlessly for years to change my name. I didn’t want a last or middle name just one singular name. I gave up when “we’ll discuss it when you’re older” became “when you’re an adult you can do as you please”. It felt disappointing and as if my parents would only accept me if I was the me they thought I was/should be.

As I got older the urge got stronger. I was clearly into way more boys stuff than girls. I remember having a sleep over with my cousin and opening up to her about not “feeling like a girl” but when asked “do you feel like a boy?” I had no answer. I didn’t feel like either. I felt like a soul and this body is just a “mechanical” shell for that soul but how was preteen me able to explain this? I couldn’t. my cousin held her hand up and asked me to do the same and said “see? Your hand hangs like mine and it’s very feminine.” Well, how could I argue that? I didn’t know how or understand. I had no one to turn to to talk about these things and anytime I tried, scenarios like this happened constantly… To discredit me and to reassure themselves that their perception of me isn’t tainted. It was lonely.

Teenage years got better. The first person I really looked up to as a teen for my gender identity was P!nk. She had short hair and didn’t take crap. She wasn’t Britney Spears or Christina aguilera and as just as an obscure popstar as I was an undiagnosed non-binary autistic female. I remember being mad I wasn’t allowed to play football. I still had to have long hair but I felt like I embraced that more as a teenager. I got to wear all black (no piercings though cept when I pierced my lip in class with a thumb tack like an idiot and had that a couple of days… DO NOT DO THIS, BTW. IT HURTS AND LEAVES A HORRID SCAR. SAVE YOURSELF) and I got to dye my hair this nice burgundy color. Dating was weird. I was too independent and masculine for most guys my age (I was one of the guys but didn’t put up with their shit either) and was intimidating. I had a few girl crushes but they never went anywhere mainly out of judgement.) I felt like the girls embraced my true self at this age more than the guys.. where I basically expected to… Act like one of the guys. It was confusing and draining. But I got through it. I remember watching Constantine and seeing Tilda Swinton as Gabriel for the first time when I was like 15 or so. This was the first moment I’d ever been in awe to see someone who represented how I felt internally and physically representing that flawlessly and who I desperately wanted to be like on the outside. It’s how I felt.. who this person inside me is despite the shell I’m in.

Pregnancy. That’s such a weird concept when you truly think about it. A tiny human grows from something so small you cant see it with your eye into a whole baby. Incredible.. and I got to experience it. It wasn’t planned at all but I welcomed it just as I did everything else that came into my life.. unexpectedly or not. I remember feeling him move for the first time. Pregnancy felt weird. I didn’t feel like it was MY body going through the changes despite there being quite obvious mental, hormonal, physical changes. It’s so hard to explain. Plus with so many other things going on it’s really hard to paint the whole picture of what pregnancy was like. Even when they cut my son out of me, the reality of “this is happening to me. My body. I have the uterus that grew this beautiful baby” but I couldn’t understand it or fully wrap my head around the gravity of that entire experience. I’ll go more into this in another blog.

Now, we get to the last 11 years or so. I’ve had peace. I’ve cut my hair into a mohawk with 9 or so piercings and plenty of tattoos. I’m happily married to my husband, whom I adore. Our sex life is fantastic and probably fairly average and not as weird as I assume most would think when they read this. (I might be wrong, idk. Never opened up about this or me like this before). My husband is very accepting and embracing of my gender especially only getting answers as to what it’s called and finding out others had other experiences in the last 5 years or so and we’ve been together for almost 16 years. As of right now, I still haven’t settled on a singular name (but Im trying to go by Valkyrie so I can still go by my actual name for a short version and it’s easy for me and them… for the time being while I think on it more and it’s okay if I change my mind) but it’s still a desire I have so I’ve accepted and embraced the singular name concept, something that was shunned a loooong time ago and forgotten about… Finally embraced and it feels so nice and relieving.

I could point out my masculine traits all day and I still think my dad would deny me or say it’s made up or dismiss it with something. He won’t see how masculine (or unfeminine) I was. Sadly, I was not a planned child and my parents wanted a boy. My youngest sibling was born male and my dad spent so much time focusing on how masculine my male born sibling wasn’t that he didn’t see the masculine son was there all along.

At this point, I’m beyond trying to prove myself. Whoever can see me how they want nor do they have to understand me because I’m done trying to explain and justify myself. I FINALLY understand myself and it’s sooooo relieving to have validation and it’s just one more aspect this lonely soul discovered about themselves as an adult that’s been super incredible and helpful. Would it have beneficial for me to have answers and support sooner? Absolutely. It would’ve helped my confidence problems at the least, I think. Maybe someday my dad and I can have this conversation… But right now we need to get past giving thumbs up responses when I send a 150 lb weight loss update to him. I’ll keep y’all updated but don’t keep up hope anything positive or good will happen.. which is something else I’m slowly coming to peace with. We will save that for another time though.

#nonbinary #gender #genderidentity #neurodiversity #adhd #autistic #actuallyautistic #lgbtq #neurodivergent #thoughts #blog #blogging

The Introduction.

I wanted to start off by introducing myself. I’m going full steam ahead at being middle aged and I was only diagnosed as autistic 4 years ago. The answer was absolutely life changing but maybe not in the ways most would expect. I was also diagnosed just last week with ADHD on top of it which has given me even more paths to navigate. I opened up this blog mainly to get all these thoughts out of my brain and on turning it into something creative and maybe (hopefully) beneficial… Things that I’m processing now and in my history and things that were impacted in my life due to being undiagnosed for SO LONG. How “severe” could I be if I went undiagnosed for so long? Let’s start diving.

I guess painting a picture of my family would be a good start. I’m the middle offspring of 3. My older sibling has unexplained (to me) intellectual disabilities and my younger sibling was born cleft lip and pallet. My mom cared for the 3 of us and our needs and my dad was the provider. My siblings and I and my father are all autistic (but none of us knew what it was called. I was the first in my family to be diagnosed). I used to think we were as perfect of a family as was depicted in our family pictures… Even now… But we are horribly dysfunctional. Despite my father physically being there, there is 0 emotional connection between my father and I and it’s always been that way. My mother singlehandedly took care of our needs as best as she could but with my other 2 siblings needing very visible needs, I was partially neglected.

I have several examples in ways I was neglected but I’ll start in this blog with something that came up only recently. A suppressed memory, one that came up and started playing like an old movie reel on loop on my head. TRIGGER WARNING. IF YOURE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MOLESTATION, PLEASE SKIP AHEAD. I went to my doctor to explain what I kept “remembering” but didnt feel like I was actually remembering it. I couldn’t shut it off or forget it. It was of my sister molesting me. Now, she’d been through an incident with a bus driver and that’s her own story to tell… My story involves what my sister brought home to me from that bus driver. My sister would hit me relentlessly and would touch me and show me where to touch myself. I don’t even think to this day my parents know the severity but after briefly mentioning it to my mom, she confirmed that was something that did happen. I don’t remember getting help or seeing a counselor for that but I also didn’t remember this happening until recently. It was before my youngest sibling was born so I was under 5 and it’s possible I suppressed those memories too. I’m not mad at my sister for it. She went through way worse and didn’t understand due to being young also. I KNOW she didnt mean to hurt me or do it on purpose so I’m thankfully able to forgive my sister for it. Honestly, if she hadn’t done it to me my mom might’ve never known what was happening to my non verbal sister. (My mom claims she didn’t speak until she was older but I distinctly remember her speaking to me well before my youngest sibling was born!)

School was absolute hell for me from kindergarten all the way to 12th grade. I struggled in school in general but I was also heavily bullied in elementary… So much so that I had the wind knocked out of me multiple times and remember passing out once and waking up with a teacher and students surrounding me on the ground. By 3rd grade I just stood by the wall and lunch ladies and did drawing. I drew a lot. I felt like I could express myself and my brain and thoughts more when I would draw. I could pay attention more when I’d draw too.. sadly, drawing on your school work makes it messy and your grade gets knocked down for it. I was never academically inclined and the strict rules in class rooms and in school systems in general made it even harder for me to succeed. My mom tried tutors to help me get organized and with homework but it still didn’t work. I was FINALLY held back in 6th grade after years of barely passing but it was only due to mono and missing so much school. We moved the following year and did much better in a rural area with smaller classrooms. I can only think of a handful of teachers who saw potential and just had a different way of doing it and helped me and I thrived in their classes. They didn’t complain about me like the other teachers who said I “daydreamed” and “wasn’t interested in school”. These special teachers saw I wanted to learn, saw how defeated I’d been, and showed me I did have potential and that I wasnt stupid and that I could do the work just had a different style in learning and putting what I learned on paper. The world needs more teachers like this. If it wasn’t for them, I don’t know where I’d be.

I don’t wanna make this too long so I’ll wrap up with current stuff for now and write another blog in depth on some things more at another time. I’m now 31 and what lead me to my diagnosis was a mental breakdown. A burnout. I had worked and forced myself to act and pass as normal as possible cuz I had no answer or reason not to. I felt like an alien left on Earth and meant to survive amongst people and failing. All I could say at the counter of the mental health facility I went to was “I’m broken please help me”. I first got diagnosed as autistic with PTSD. I’d spent so many years and so much energy and effort trying to pass and be normal that it literally broke me. So I’ve spent the last 4 years relearning EVERYTHING (even speech) and working with my brain instead of against it.. and it’s been wonderfully eye opening.

I dunno if hashtags work for this but I’m going to try anyways and apologize in advance if I’m doing this wrong… which I probably am. #actuallyautistic #autism #adhd #autistic #neurodivergent