Shhh…. I have a secret

Dissertation: A long ass research paper based on the writing of other people and research that has, hopefully, been successfully completed. Usually containing a mind-numbing amount of pages littered with repeated references to other writing both seminal (meaning the ‘creators’ or ‘originators’ of certain fields or theories, in the case of Psychology names such as Freud, Erickson, and Skinner) and modern- meaning within the last five years.

Procrastination: Putting off things that you know need to be done until the last possible moment, then hoping for a miracle to complete whatever in time.

Imposter Syndrome: When one feels like they have no idea what they are doing despite having the education or knowledge required to do so. Often felt by teachers, doctors, or other professionals just beginning their careers.

Oddly enough, the three can be easily linked together. I know this because I have the education and the knowledge required to write a decent dissertation. However, I feel like I am just playing at being a psychologist. It feels like a suit that just doesn’t quite fit but should eventually be comfortable. The problem is that the suit doesn’t fit right now, so the procrastination is screaming for me to wait until the suit fits in order to write.

It feels a lot like when you have to have the experience to get a job, but you have to have a job to get the experience.

In my case, it is to research and write about what I know and am passionate about: Autism spectrum disorder (ASD) and the effect that the diagnosis has on the lives of the family.

I may or may not have mentioned a few times that I have kids on the spectrum. The first diagnosis was one that I (we) were not prepared for. But that could be because when the first one was diagnosed, the statistics was one child in 1500 would be diagnosed. Approximately 75-80% of that number were boys and the rest girls (1,125- 1,200 boys to 300-375 girls). This was about 30 years ago. When my youngest was diagnosed, the number had been reduced to one in 150. The ratio was slightly higher for girls diagnosed then, but not by much. This was (officially) 18 years ago. Now, the statistics are around one out of 45-60 children between the ages of 5-18.

I know a lot of numbers there.

But the thing to remember here is that for each of those diagnoses, a family is learning to cope with the new information. The most significant difference now is that it is no longer a diagnosis that means ‘the end of the world is nigh’. We now know there is a broad spectrum: Some kids are high-functioning, others are not. But they all have their strengths. And despite all of the stereotypes, they are individuals.

My youngest has a genius IQ and has always been able to do amazing things with computers. He, and I kid you not, has been drawing schematics for things such as refrigerators and particle accelerators since he was five. Started discussing physics at about the same time. Thank goodness my husband could keep up with him. I sure as hell couldn’t!

However, the day-to-day things escape him. Last time he was tested he was unable to name all of the days in the week, months of the year or seasons, let alone put them in order. Not important to him. However, he can count money and do differential calculus. He is basically academically smart. His social skills and emotional intelligence is lacking. We have always referred to him as similar to Sheldon on the Big Bang Theory.

My elder son has had the ability to solve and beat any video game in a matter of hours. Understands Pokémon, both the video and card games, and can easily teach the particulars to kids. He has empathy oozing out of his skin. Easily gives of himself. So much so that we have to be careful that he isn’t taken advantage of. He would be more than happy to buy anything from food and drink to a new computer if he thinks someone needs it. So, he has emotional intelligence.

Neither have the ‘sure tell sign of autism’ of avoiding eye contact. They did when they were younger but have gotten better at it. It is more that they are ‘face blind’.

Being ‘face blind’ means that they have difficulty pairing names with faces. I mean serious difficulty. They have an uncle that we see often, but the younger one still has a hard time remembering his name, not who he is married to, just his name. To be fair, he has the same issue with the names of dogs/cats he interacts with on a regular basis.

What was my original point? Ummm…

With each diagnosis of a child with ASD, there is the potential for their family to be blindsided by the diagnosis. The statistical probability for the child’s parent to remain married of the diagnosis is not good. I’m talking even worse than parents of neurotypical children- well over 50% of marriages do not last (research puts it at between 60-80%).

It is a large reason why my first marriage failed.

Well, that and his inability to keep his dick in his pants. He didn’t want a ‘broken child’.

Yeah, he’s an asshat.

No longer my circus and definitely not my monkey.

My research is trying to find a commonality with the parents who have stayed married and to understand why they were successful. I think that it is important, especially for families that have yet to have a diagnosed family member. I would like to be able to write a guide or a road map for success.

Anything to help newcomers to this world is stressful, financially and emotionally draining, and yet rewarding in its own way.

Leave the world a little better than you found it, yeah?

Seems like I know what I am talking about, doesn’t it? I do, but that doesn’t stop the little voice in my brain from saying things like, “Do you really know enough? Are you confident enough to submit a paper to academic journals? Are you sure?”

Stupid voices in my head.

I am trying to listen to them less, procrastinate less, and write more. Of course, it is my dissertation that I should be writing, not this or my soon-to-be-released novel. Yeah, another area where the voices are asking if I am sure it’s done…

Sigh. Back to one of the other two!