This is another “story from my life” blog post. It will be more serious than usual, but I believe I can make it interesting.

I wouldn’t say I had a bad childhood, but there were definitely things I could’ve lived without. I was often bullied for my weight, social awkwardness and oversensitivity. On the other hand, I wasn’t a saint either. I would often respond in ways that were not proportional to the situation. For example, I once hit a classmate because he kept complaining about me not bringing a pencil. It doesn’t matter what was going on in my head, there was no excuse for that. I don’t remember this myself, but my mom told me I took a psychological test when I was a kid. I had some autistic traits, but not enough to actually count as autistic.

When I got older, I became more well adjusted and it because easier for me to form relationships with people. I’m still having some difficulties, though. A few months ago, I went to talk to a therapist. Long story short, I spent too much time online and started believing the world hated me. I eventually brought up the possibilty of me being autistic. I figured, I should get tested again now that I’m an adult and my brain is more developed. The therapist told me about two instititutions. It turned out that one of them doesn’t test adults and the other charges 140 euros.

I didn’t want to pay that much, so I contacted an autism support group in Croatia and told them about my predicament. They said that diagnosing adults with autism is a relatively new field, especially in Croatia. They couldn’t help me. This is why I don’t complain about American healthcare that much. I’m too busy dealing with the one in my own country. I though, “Screw it, I’ll take what I can get.” I booked an appointment and a few months later, I was on my way to the other side of the city. It took me almost an hour and a half to get to the place. It’s less painful if you pretend you’re on a quest.

I barely arrived on time and started talking to the consultant. I talked about my childhood, my teenhood and my current life. I brought up some of my quirks associated with autism: I can’t always tell when people are joking or being sarcastic, I don’t like loud noises, I like to stick to a certain routine in my daily life, etc. I also had to do a few tests. I arranged blocks in a certain way, I told a story using a pile of small objects, I went through a picture book and talked about what happened in it, etc. The whole thing looked more like a test for a child than for an adult. Then again, I’m not an expert, so maybe I’m missing something.

When the test was over, she told me that I was autistic. She brought up the fact that I talked in a monotone voice with few to no expressions or hand gestures. That’s partially true. I’m stilted when I talk to someone I haven’t met before, but I’m more relaxed when I’m talking to a friend, an acquaintance or a family member. I admit, I probably made my self-insert more expressive than myself. It’s one of the few things he does better than me. I told the consultant about the test I took when I was a kid. She replied that society’s understanding of autism became a lot better in the fifteen or so years since I took that test. It’s good to know that some things are improving with time. You can’t call me a boomer now!

At the end of the conversation, it was time to pay. Fortunately, the price was 100 euros for unemployed people. I gave her my mom’s e-mail adress. She had to answer a few questions too. The next step is to contact a therapist and get an official diagnosis and access to the legal rights for autists. If something interesting happens, I’ll let you know. When I heard from an expert that I was autistic, my reaction wasn’t especially happy or sad. I thought, “That explains a lot.” I was often bullied as a kid, but I also had a lot of people in my life who love me and want the best for me, even if they don’t always understand me. I’m pretty lucky; lots of autists don’t have that privilege. Things are getting better, but we still have work to do.

You may have noticed two symbols of autism in the picture at the top; the golden infinity symbol and the puzzle pieces. I know a lot of autists don’t like the latter. They say it stereotypes them as childish and imcomprehensible. I can see why they feel that way, but I have my own interpretation. Sometimes, I’m a puzzle to the world and sometimes, the world is a puzzle to me. Hell, I can even be a puzzle to myself. Despite all that, every puzzle piece has a place in the picture, no matter how strange it might look. Autists should not be outcasts just because our brains work a little differently. We’re all a part of society.