I was brought here from an article I was reading on ASD and non-ASD relationships. I was diagnosed with ADHD last year, with the suspicion that I might also be on the spectrum. After picking up a book over Christmas recounting the personal journey of an author coming to terms with Aspergers, I felt like I had gone to the future, written the book for myself, and placed it upon the shelf, for me to pluck up on my religious pilgrimage to the UK bookstores every time I come home; to see what I might find.
As the conversation with the psychiatrist has continued, it has become clear to us both that I am indeed, ASD. After doing the AQ, and the EQ self-assessments - I have a fairly clear picture. Doing a formal diagnosis with the psychiatrist would really just cost a lot of money - though I am unsure whether to pursue something I feel quite sure about, just to be 100%, when I feel 100% already.
I am 29, soon to be 30, and I have a partner, with a 1 year-old son between us. I love him, in greater proportion than I ever thought possible. I also love my partner, and have done for a long time - even before we were together.
I have since my first diagnosis, in some part, felt I have deceived her in some way. That perhaps if she had known the 'private' me better beforehand (and me too), that she might have made different choices.
Fundamentally, we are different. But I want to embrace those differences, but also work as a family unit. She is fast, clumsy, and impatient, driven only by the motor in her head that says 'go, do, go, do', and I am slow, measured, and slow to anger, though the frustration inevitably comes.
I often say to her, that she shines as bright as the sun, only that she might travel slower across the sky to share her warmth with those around her.
I try to explain, that if every day a human being runs a 100m race, I might start the day at -20, or less. She says she is tired. I try to explain that being at 0 and tired, is not equivalent to -20...-40 etc. I validate her tiredness, but also explain that by saying 'I'm tired too', it hijacks the conversation and stops me from expressing how I feel.
She admitted to a 'be happy or go away' mentality, of which I find difficult. I must first thing in the morning race the extra distance as soon as possible to be at '0' meters, so that I don't experience the rejection, or impatience, and have the tolerance to deal with possible immediate environmental things. I don't want my son to see me in half-done state, so I isolate myself, getting up an hour before everyone else to try and 'put myself together' for the day.
I try my very best to make things work - but as of late have become exhausted of wearing 'camouflage' in my own home. When I do not have it, the patience my partner exercises seems minimal, and she flits from task to task, and we move into 'transaction' mode. This leaves me feeling abandoned, and I only wish I could be accepted.
She says she does love me, and I believe her. But, alas, I do not think she truly understands. How could she, when I don't entirely know myself either? It is not her fault, I know this. In truth, it is nobody's fault. But I am not accustomed to apportioning blame to a party, and far more interested in finding a solution *together*.
I am trying to shed this *false*, previous, me in order to be a better parent; because it is clear to me that my son and I are alike in many ways, and I want him to grow up in an understanding and nurturing environment, that acknowledges, understands, and accepts his differences. I want to catalyse his interests into something that will send him off into life with a passion and a dream to chase; to have an understanding of himself, and the world around him, and to know that he does not have to bend to the will of the world, but rather reshape *his* immediate world, around what will make him successful and fulfilled.
In truth, I want this relationship to work. Yet at each corner I shine my torch looking for salvation, they tell me that an ASD/non-ASD relationship is 'doomed to failure'.
I send out a beacon here, hoping to find some way to reverse this tide and stay together as a family.
I have come to a place of understanding where I replaced the word 'happiness', with 'contentedness'. Most refute this as a 'joyous statement', yet for me it provides some comfort. It seems to me that the relentless pursuit of something that is impossible to always achieve, is fruitless. "Happiness" is fleeting, and rather moments of 'joy', are what are to be experienced. I have my rituals of breakfast, made the same way every day, and it is a small part of the cathartic, yet exhausting, staircase I must climb each morning in order to be at 'zero'.
For me, it is also a small act of love I practice, no matter the weather in our home. 1 coffee, 1 porridge, and a glass of water, born of kindness and love.
Right now, we are trying a new initiative, which is to sit down every week, and write down the things that went well, and the things that did not. We summarise them and celebrate the successes, and we address head-on, the things that need work.
But the underlying principle here, is that we run at two different speeds. How on earth can I catch up, or not be bogged down in the weight of the world. And I do not want to put out her fire.
For the sake of my son, my partner, myself, and my sanity - I am here.
Hello.
16 Mar 2020, 10:42 am
. A relationship involving couples of any neurology with a one year old, will be going through their paces, so don’t be too hard on yourself. Differences in nature and neurology will of course add challenges. It’s going to be hard at times, only natural. Sometimes it might even seem impossible to stay together, but making sure you have quality time together with something to look forward to, even if it’s an indoor picnic or game or movie together, can make a difference. Respectful communication, and discussing future dreams and goals, reminding each other of your love and determination to make things work, can go a long way. It’s easy to get into a loop of negative thought and behaviour toward each other when you’re struggling to be on the same page, but little things can make a big difference. No relationship is easy ... hope you can get through the difficult times and grow stronger together as the years go on. Hang in there. There are better days ahead ... though it might not feel that way at times. Good to have you with us.
