Weekly counselling is more intense. There's less time to fill inbetween sessions and it being over the phone has meant that there are less visual distractions. It works for me.
Yesterday was my third session with J and I finally, properly dropped my guard and told her exactly what had been troubling me this week. I'm analysing everything. But mostly, is Peter abusive or is Peter autistic? Of course, autistic people can be abusers too.
I told her how my Dad was autistic and also abusive, how my recently diagnosed autistic friend insulted me only two weeks ago and how, when I pointed out that she had insulted me, she expected ME to comfort HER. I told her that I can not separate autism from abuse and cruelty. I told her how guilty I feel for this, because my daughter is likely autistic herself; many of the children I work with are also autistic. I thought she'd be horrified. What if my counsellor is autistic, I asked myself? She wasn't horrified at all. She responded with empathy, said she had heard this story before. She asked me "are you angry with autism?"
"Yes" I said.
As I spoke more, I explored people I know who have autism who show empathy, are not as self entitled, who care. I know an autistic counsellor even; she's not like these other people in my life at all. But I also told her how autism translates as "selfism" and that it's difficult to have so many autistic people in my life because I can not keep on looking out for people who don't look out for me. These relationships feel one sided and I am burnt out. She understood that. She said it sounded reasonable that a lot of autistic people in one person's life would pull on their reserves, on their energy. She asked me if I blame myself that I have several autistic people around me? I said yes.
Why?
Because I attract them.
She pointed out that I never attracted my Dad into my life; I had no say in that.
Yes, I know.
It seemed ok for me to be angry with autism. She didn't judge. Just accepted it. I told her how confused I am because I also have SO MUCH compassion for autism! I will push and pull and clamour for support for the autistic children that I work with- I'd walk over hot coals to help them get through school life. I disagree openly with other professionals when I don't feel these children are receiving the appropriate support that they so need. Then I wonder if the reason I work so hard for the children is because I know the impact it has on their relationships when they get older? From personal experience of being at the other end of this behaviour. Also, they never asked for autism did they?
I feel like two different people.
Professional me and personal me. Personal me is tired of autism, tired of the impact on my family, me, my relationships, my life. So, I'll accept the anger for now and work through it, but the first step is acknowledging it. So, laying myself bare, here are my reasons for feeling angry with autism:
1) I hate that it gives people an excuse to be selfish when self-centred personality disorders don't come with any excuses at all. So, I find myself wondering, what's the difference?
2) I hate that if I speak out about how this disorder affects me and my life, I'm labelled "ableist" as if my wants, my needs and feelings don't matter.
3) Autism appears to affect more men than women, which adds a whole other layer of domestic inequality to a world which is already geared towards exploiting the energy and time of women.
4) When my undiagnosed autistic Dad raged at me for disrupting his predictable routines as a child, he gave me fears, insecurities and a level of self consciousness which still lingers and impacts on my life and relationships today. His challenges shouldn't be my wounds to carry.
5) They say that love breeds love, but for me, autism has bred autism. No matter how much I said I'd never marry a man like my Dad, I selected a partner who is also autistic, whose father is autistic and now my daughter is likely autistic. My compassion for autism is being eroded by the neglect for my own needs as a result of the condition in the people I have loved and love.
6) To have compassion for a spouse with autism, one has to decrease their expectations and minimise their own self respect because you can't have both where there is autism. There is no balance in selfism.
7) With autism there comes a stubbornness and a reluctance to change, yet a relationship can only thrive when the autistic partner commits to inner work and openness to change. We therefore spend our time stuck in a catch 22 because they won't leave either.
8) It operates in secret. Behind a mask which most people don't see, we're left wondering if we're imagining our battles and challenges? Am I unreasonable? We gaslight ourselves and it makes us sad and eventually, ill.
9) Autistic individuals often have a helplessness about them, which for men, often attracts helpful women. It attracted us once. As our executive functioning appears more intact, we get blamed for any discord in our relationships, for being too feisty, too controlling. We can never win.
10) It anatagonises our good intentions.
Autism rebels against our plans, our communication, our love. It enjoys opposites and uncertainty, ambiguity. It dislodges our safety.
11) It makes us invisible.
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