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Is anyone here parent to an adult child with Asperger's/roleplaying addiction?
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<blockquote data-quote="GoingNorth" data-source="post: 605507" data-attributes="member: 1963"><p>Playing the social game and faking "normal" is darned hard work. I was very lucky in that while I didn't find out officially about my autism until I was in my early 40s, to my family (riddled with spectrum folks_, I was "just another one of those".</p><p></p><p>I got a lot of support from my parents socially. I still have trouble. I'm good on the phone because I can read voices, but have a hard time with facial expressions and human body language.</p><p></p><p>Oddly, I can read animal body language like a book, perhaps because animal behaviour is one of my obsessions.</p><p></p><p>We didn't have supports when I was little. In fact, the only form of autism that was recognized was the non-verbal regressive kind, and those children were institutionalized as a norm.</p><p></p><p>It's hard to explain to neurotypicals just what it's like to have to think about/over every single tiny give and take in an interaction.</p><p></p><p>I found my niche in Information Technology, where I worked with a lot of spectrum co-workers, and bosses were willing to trade a bit of oddness for sheer brilliance.</p><p></p><p>I've gotten to the point where I can handle a short casual conversation and hold up my end. I don't like it, but I do it because it's part of being a member of society.</p><p></p><p>My mother is an Aspie. I was diagnosed so late and so well--compensated by that time, that no one is really sure if I'm an Aspie or High Functioning Autistic.</p><p></p><p>Probably an Aspie as I spoke very early, but I have the hypotonia and stimming of a High-Functioning Autism (HFA). I've learned to tone down my stimming to the point where when I do it in public it just looks like I'm fidgeting.</p><p></p><p>My sister is bipolar as I also am, and her two children are both Aspies. My brother in law is neurotypical though suffers from depression.</p><p></p><p>I was a wreck as a child, never raged until I hit my teens and the BiPolar (BP) kicked in. Before that I was a "runner". If I got overstimulated and stressed out, I bolted. </p><p></p><p>As a child, I literally bolted. I was dug out of many a clothes rack at the department store and once was found hiding under an overturned kiddie pool at a lawn and garden place.</p><p></p><p>My BFF is autistic, and I love visiting her because we can be ourselves and not worry about offending each other. It's no big deal if she picks up a video game, or I dive into my Kindle. It's our way of saying, to quote BFF, "I'm worn out from talking. I need a break!</p><p></p><p>My parents used to take me to "lie down" in whatever room at parties was being used for coats and jackets. I always carried a mini flashlight and paperback book in my little purse. I would "take a nap" in the dark with my book and my flashlight and come out when I felt ready to shoulder the burden of socializing.</p><p></p><p>When I was working and husband was still alive, he knew to give me an hour to de-compress when I came home from work. I was so wound up and so tired from being "normal" all day that I couldn't deal with talking to him. </p><p></p><p>He'd bring me a beer, kiss me on the forehead or cheek, and say, "I'm here when you want to talk about your day." and then, bless him, he'dleave me alone.</p><p></p><p>he and I were involved in LARP sort of activities with the Society for Creative Anachronism. I found it very easy to fall into my persona where I was who I was and my persona had been designed to take my innate behaviors into consideration.</p><p></p><p>It's possible she NEEDS this outlet. </p><p></p><p>husband and I left the SCA when events started turning into drug soaked underage drunken orgies. I smoked weed or hash occasionally, had a couple of drinks here and there, but the idea of getting so toasted that I lost control of my actions terrified me. It would be like being blinded all of a sudden.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="GoingNorth, post: 605507, member: 1963"] Playing the social game and faking "normal" is darned hard work. I was very lucky in that while I didn't find out officially about my autism until I was in my early 40s, to my family (riddled with spectrum folks_, I was "just another one of those". I got a lot of support from my parents socially. I still have trouble. I'm good on the phone because I can read voices, but have a hard time with facial expressions and human body language. Oddly, I can read animal body language like a book, perhaps because animal behaviour is one of my obsessions. We didn't have supports when I was little. In fact, the only form of autism that was recognized was the non-verbal regressive kind, and those children were institutionalized as a norm. It's hard to explain to neurotypicals just what it's like to have to think about/over every single tiny give and take in an interaction. I found my niche in Information Technology, where I worked with a lot of spectrum co-workers, and bosses were willing to trade a bit of oddness for sheer brilliance. I've gotten to the point where I can handle a short casual conversation and hold up my end. I don't like it, but I do it because it's part of being a member of society. My mother is an Aspie. I was diagnosed so late and so well--compensated by that time, that no one is really sure if I'm an Aspie or High Functioning Autistic. Probably an Aspie as I spoke very early, but I have the hypotonia and stimming of a High-Functioning Autism (HFA). I've learned to tone down my stimming to the point where when I do it in public it just looks like I'm fidgeting. My sister is bipolar as I also am, and her two children are both Aspies. My brother in law is neurotypical though suffers from depression. I was a wreck as a child, never raged until I hit my teens and the BiPolar (BP) kicked in. Before that I was a "runner". If I got overstimulated and stressed out, I bolted. As a child, I literally bolted. I was dug out of many a clothes rack at the department store and once was found hiding under an overturned kiddie pool at a lawn and garden place. My BFF is autistic, and I love visiting her because we can be ourselves and not worry about offending each other. It's no big deal if she picks up a video game, or I dive into my Kindle. It's our way of saying, to quote BFF, "I'm worn out from talking. I need a break! My parents used to take me to "lie down" in whatever room at parties was being used for coats and jackets. I always carried a mini flashlight and paperback book in my little purse. I would "take a nap" in the dark with my book and my flashlight and come out when I felt ready to shoulder the burden of socializing. When I was working and husband was still alive, he knew to give me an hour to de-compress when I came home from work. I was so wound up and so tired from being "normal" all day that I couldn't deal with talking to him. He'd bring me a beer, kiss me on the forehead or cheek, and say, "I'm here when you want to talk about your day." and then, bless him, he'dleave me alone. he and I were involved in LARP sort of activities with the Society for Creative Anachronism. I found it very easy to fall into my persona where I was who I was and my persona had been designed to take my innate behaviors into consideration. It's possible she NEEDS this outlet. husband and I left the SCA when events started turning into drug soaked underage drunken orgies. I smoked weed or hash occasionally, had a couple of drinks here and there, but the idea of getting so toasted that I lost control of my actions terrified me. It would be like being blinded all of a sudden. [/QUOTE]
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Is anyone here parent to an adult child with Asperger's/roleplaying addiction?
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