“If autism isn’t caused by environmental factors and is natural why didn’t we ever see it in the past?”
We did, except it wasn’t called autism it was called “Little Jonathan is a r*tarded halfwit who bangs his head on things and can’t speak so we’re taking him into the middle of the cold dark forest and leaving him there to die.”
Or “little Jonathan doesn’t talk but does a good job herding the sheep, contributes to the community in his own way, and is, all around, a decent guy.” That happened a lot, too, especially before the 19th century.
Or, backing up FURTHER
and lots of people think this very likely,
“Oh little Sionnat has obviously been taken by the fairies and they’ve left us a Changeling Child who knows too much, and asks strange questions, and uses words she shouldn’t know, and watches everything with her big dark eyes, clearly a Fairy Child and not a Human Like Us.”
The Myth of the Changeling child, a human baby apparently replaced at a young age by a toddler who “suddenly” acts “strange and fey” is an almost textbook depiction of autistic children.
To this day, “autism warrior mommies” talk about autism “stealing” their “sweet normal child” and have this idea of “getting their real baby back” which (in the face of modern science) indicates how the human psyche actually does deal with finding out their kid acts unlike what they expected.
Given this evidence, and how common we now know autism actually is, the Changeling myth is almost definitely the result of people’s confusion at the development of autistic children.
Weirdly enough, that legend is now comforting to me.
I think it’s worth noting that many like me, who are diagnosed with ASD now, would probably have been seen as just a bit odd in centuries past. I’m only a little bit autistic; I can pass for neurotypical for short periods if I work really hard at it. I have a lack of talent in social situations, and I’m prone to sensory overload or you might notice me stimming.
But here’s the thing: life is louder, brighter and more intense and confusing than it has ever been. I live on the edge of London and I rarely go into the centre of town because it’s too overwhelming. If I went back in time and lived on a farm somewhere, would anyone even notice there was anything odd about me? No police sirens, no crowded streets that go on for miles and miles, no flickery electric lights. Working on a farm has a clear routine. I’d be a badass at spinning cloth or churning butter because I find endless repetition soothing rather than boring.
I’m not trying to romanticise the past because I know it was hard, dirty work with a constant risk of premature death. I don’t actually want to be a 16th century farmer! What I’m saying is that disability exists in the context of the environment. Our environment isn’t making people autistic in the sense of some chemical causing brain damage. But we have created a modern environment which is hostile to autistic people in many ways, which effectively makes us more disabled. When you make people more disabled, you start to see more people struggling, failing at school because they’re overwhelmed, freaking out at the sound of electric hand dryers and so on. And suddenly it looks like there’s millions more autistic people than existed before.
“…disability exists in the context of the environment.”
Reblog for disability commentary.
That last paragraph is absolutely important.
There’s also some disabilities that effectively don’t exist in a modern environment. Shitty eyesight, for example, is 99% of the time effectively and easily treated with glasses, and is not a disability at all (assuming you can afford the glasses, of course). I don’t have to go to my school’s disability services and request accommodations because I need glasses, and I don’t have to alter my daily life because I wear glasses, because today’s modern environment is perfectly navigable to a person with glasses. If I lived 500 years ago and had the same shitty eyesight, it actually would cause me problems. If only we build the world to accommodate other disabilities the way we accommodate glasses.
I’m sorry, anon, but I am not a good consult for this. I have almost no knowledge about autism presentations. I rarely work with autistics, and when I do, they’re primarily concerned about the psychosis, not the autism.
sensory sensitivity is not the only way autism presents! people can also be sensory seeking – desiring or requiring much MORE of a given stimulus than neurotypical people do. this is a big part of why weighted blankets are so popular.
basically, iirc, the hallmark of autism is disordered sensory PROCESSING, not necessarily sensory hypersensitivity. so that could be things like:
– having difficulty interpreting sounds when there are too many things going on (i sometimes can’t follow conversations if music is playing, for example -it’s not that it’s too loud, it’s that the sounds get jumbled together in my brain and i can’t sort them out)
-not always noticing when you’re injured (autistics are NOTORIOUSLY bad at applying standard pain scales to their symptoms)
-having unexpected food aversions
-avoiding OR seeking out specific sensory experiences.
and, as an autistic friend of mine once told me, wondering if the presence or lack of a given symptom means you’re not really autistic is something that has happened to every autistic I’ve ever met. it’s practically its own autism indicator. XD
hope this helps! my inbox is open if you want to talk more.
wow, what a gorgeous month to remember autism isn’t a disease and there’s no “cure for autism” and there shouldn’t have to be one just because allistic people can’t get the hell over themselves and realise other people experience the world differently and have different needs and require different accommodations. terrific.
just start now. whatever you’re holding off on, just start now. don’t wait until the mood strikes. start now. working on it for even five minutes is better than nothing. just start now. now
Too much task switching. My autie/adhd brain can’t handle it. Switching from knitting or sewing to weaving and back again eliminates the flow state which is what i knit for in the first place.
@into-the-weeds my phone just tried to correct “executive function” to “executive fiction” and i thought you would find that relatable
me, gently pulling my consciousness back into my body: please keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times
i like clues because they make sense, unlike people, who have legs that go on for days. how can a leg go on for days? i don’t know. help
i got the call late at night: “there’s been a murder on the orient express.” i knew i had to take the case immediately, because that is a TRAIN
i have been told i am “gritty” and “hardboiled”, maybe because i eat so many eggs and crunch the bits of shell between my teeth
“he’s the killer!” i said. “wait, no he’s not. wait, all these people look the same, which one is which again?”
i’m a straight shooter who plays by my own rules, all 376 of them that I have in this annotated binder
i’m a lose cannon, in fact, i have been institutionalized for erratic behavior
my job as a detective is made harder by the fact that i am physically incapable of telling a lie or bluffing but made easier by the fact that i have no emotions about anything but trains. once a train was murdered, and i couldn’t stop crying
she had curves in all the right places. i like curves, because they make sense, unlike people
i like my liquor hard, and my social interactions harder
i’m the best detective around, but my fees are high, and i only take payment in trains
she had curves in all the right places. she was a graph i was making about trains. in the other room, my dad was crying because i wouldn’t make eye contact with him
“you will tell me what i want.” i said. “everyone tells me what i want. i’m tough as nails, and i’m not afraid to display aggressive behavior”
i got into this job because one time in fifth grade i asked my special teacher why people don’t like me, and she told me to be a detective and figure it out. i took that completely literally, and here we are today
maybe i should throw away all my detective memorabilia so that i can hug my dad for the first time
“i know you’re a detective,” my mom sniffled, “but sometimes i feel like the real detective, trying to figure out how to finally help you”
the only mystery i cannot solve is the mystery of why these nice ladies keep making me play with special blocks. i have literally no theories about why this is happening
“i didn’t solve the case, and i let a second train get murdered!” i cried. “i’m a bad detective!” “oh, honey, no,” my mom soothed, “you’re not a bad detective, you’re just special, and sometimes that means things are a little bit harder for you”
he handed me the pictures of the suspects. i crossed out their eyes so i could look at their faces.
i got the call late at night. “TEXT ME” i shouted into the phone
“there’s been a terrible murder.” “that makes 231,” i said, twirling my hair. i like numbers.
she had curves that went on for legs. i reminded myself to make eye contact, like my special teacher told me
“ain’t she a beauty?” i asked. my special teacher had been working with me on saying “isn’t.” “a genuine Horse .75. i got her 12 years and 37 days ago and she weighs exactly 14 ounces. i call her Melissa, after my special teacher. she’s almost as good as a train.”
i took out my bottle of whiskey, and started to read the label aloud
i’m a private eye. that means i think eyes should be private. why do people have to look at each other’s eyes all the time?
the ceiling fan moved slowly in my grimy office, slowly like someone about to give up on the world. i stared up, up, up at it, distracted from my obsessive cleaning. it had curves in all the right places
the whole world seemed black and white, like an old film, or my thinking
i took my gun out of the pocket of my trench coat, which i was wearing because of my sensory issues
with my gun smashed to pieces on the floor and the criminal’s gun pointed right at me, it seemed like just about the right time to elope
Thatadhdfeel when an adhd reddit thread is how you learn that sitting with your legs up on the chair well into adulthood is an adhd thing.
wait seriously? not sitting in chairs properly is an adhd thing?
(i mean i’d guess it could be a thing for many other reasons but…huh.)
I’ve never seen and can’t find any research on this, but my experience both as ND and in the field is that sensory issues (which come with ADHD, ASD, and SPD) usually lead to unusual sitting and/or standing postures.
Think about it though. Think about a regular standard chair, think what it’s like to sit on it. It’s pretty uncomfortable, right? Wrong! Most people actually have no trouble sitting on regular chairs! that’s why they are designed the way they are! most people can sit on them just fine without squirming or feeling pain or feeling the need to fit their legs onto the seat too!
And if this thought, that chairs aren’t just badly-designed discomfort-items, is as mind-boggling a thought to you as it is to me, you probably aren’t all that neurotypical (I won’t say either way about it being ADHD specific since I don’t have ADHD as far as I know, but I’m not neurotypical).
What the heckie?
I mean, I’m also short, so I just always assumed that was my problem with being comfortable in chairs.
But even in the car, I end up scrunching into the pressure stim of having my legs crossed or under me, so!
yeah this is def an autism/ADHD/etc thing. you see it all the time in coded characters as well
…there’s no WAY neurotypicals can possibly like chairs. Can some people without ADHD or autism chime in?
The invention of comfortable chairs/chaise lounges in the 1700’s caused a moral panic because it was finally comfortable to sit and read. Until the advent of modern office life, most people were not expected to sit in chairs while doing their jobs. Thus the stereotype of a tailor sitting cross legged on his table while he works.
Stools were cheaper and easier to make than chairs, which explains the comfort/stimming angle a little bit more. You can scrunch your feet into the rungs on stools, wrap your legs around the stool legs, and rock more securely than in a table chair. Additionally, it’s relevant that archetypal comfort chair is a rocking chair.
TL;DR: chairs have always sucked, but you’re not imaging your sensory issues.