Monthly Archives: March 2017

#AtoZChallenge Theme Reveal 2017: Maybe This Is a Big Mistake, But…

As regular visitors to my blog know, I am currently in the re-assessment process regarding my psychiatric diagnosis. Last year, my psychologist removed my autism diagnosis, that I’d had since 2007. I initially went along, because her reasoning – that I had some type of brain njury instead – seemed plausible at the time. Besides, I wanted to spare myself the emotional rollercoaster of yet another assessment. I had several since my initial diagnosis after all, though most of these reports disappeared. After my psychologist decided to diagnose me with just a personality disorder and depression though, I decided to seek an independent second opinion anyway. I’ve never had an assessment more thorough than this one, I must admit.

I participated in the #AtoZChallenge twice already. In 2015, I had autism as my theme. In 2016, I went with general mental health. This year, I’m still in doubt even as I write this post. Brain injury, premature birth and disability rights crossed my mind, but I have a hard time thinking of topics for each letter that are relevant to these themes. Since I don’t know yet what the outcome of my re-assessment will be, I am rather daring by picking “neurodevelopmental disorders” again. This is broader than autism, so I can have an excuse and write on unrelated topics if it turns out I’m not diagnosable as autistic after all. Neurodevelopental disorders are still a major (special) interest of mine. However, I don’t know yet how I will handle the outcome of my assessment, so it might be I’ll be so depressed I’ll stop blogging. My blog has been rather inactive lately anyway. If it turns out I’m not diagnosed with autism, I’ll hopefully finish the challenge and then close the chapter. I contemplated skipping A to Z and choosing this theme for #Write31Days in October (if that challenge stll exists) should I be diagnosed with autism again. However, maybe my blog will have died of inactivity by then. In an attempt to kick it when it’s down, I’ll take on the #AtoZChallenge anyway. Wish me luck.

Psychological Evaluation

Last week, I would’ve had my ten year Aspieversary/autiversary or the anniversary of my autism diagnosis. I did realize this and even started writing a blog post about it, but it didn’t feel right to celebrate an anniversary of something that no longer is. After all, I’m no longer diagnosed as autistic. I was also quite shocked when it dawned upon me that I’d been institutionalized for almost the entirety of these ten years. I then started thinking about the ten years before that and how much longer they seemed to have taken. Time flies when you’re getting old(er).

I then started writing a post on the psychological evaluation that I had the day before my would-be-Aspieversary. That was hard too – both the evaluation and writing about it. For the first time that I had a psycholoigical assessment, the personality testing was in fact the easiest – or least difficult – part. I just can’t get past the fact that I did rather poorly on some of the neuropsychological tests and didn’t seem to score as great on the intelligence test.

The neuropsych testing consisted of a couple of memory tests. Most went okay, but with one, I kept losing focus. Then there was a test for semantics, the way words and their meanings are formed and articulated. I had to name as may words starting with a given letter or in a given category (animals, occupations) in one minute as possible. In the animals category, I started blurting out donkey, squirrel and Brazilian wandering spider, which are three words I use repetitively, and then I got stuck. I don’t know what the average score is of course, but some of my staff tried this one and did much better than I did. Of course, they weren’t in an actual test setting.

Then I got what I think is the verbal part of the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale. Older versions of this intelligence test consist of a verbal and a non-verbal (performance) part, but the performance part isn’t possible for me because I’m blind. The current version does not provide a verbal or performance IQ score, but it still consists of verbal and non-verbal tasks. I did okay and still seemed to have the same strengths (similarities, arithmetic) and weaknesses (compreheension) as when I last had an intelligence test twelve years ago. I don’t think I scored as mind-blowingly high as my parents would want me to though. When I told my mother so, she said I just don’t want to know that I’m gifted. I don’t know whether she meant that I didn’t try my best or that I underestimated my actual performance.

I also got some tests that seem to be specific to autism. One of them was a kind of weird test that seemed to measure theory of mind. I heard these little stories and then had to say whether a character had said something inappropriate. Then there were follow-up questions abou thow each character would feel, whether they could know that what they said was inappropriate, etc. I got rather frustrated with this test.

Some of the questionnaires also seemed to be relevant to my possible autism. One was some kind of systemizing/empathizing test. I once took a similar (or the same) test online and scored below-average on both scales. I mean, I am interested in systemizing, but I can’t actually do it right in daily life. For example, I can’t balance a checkbook, but I do take an interest in random strings of information, such as share prices (yes, I did at one point perseverate on that). There was also this test that asked about the ability to read one’s own feelings. This was a rather weird one to me, but that may be because I barely understand how anyone would be able to tell the difference between for example feelign excited and feeling enthusiastic.

Lastly, I got a coping sytles questionnaire and several personality tests. I scored high on avoidance twelve years ago when I got the same coping styles questionnaire and I think that has only gotten worse. After all, all I’ve learned in the mental hospital is to distract or take a tranquilizer. This is the worst coping style according to my college psychology professor. I did okay on the personality tests. I mean, it’s likely I have at least some personality disorder traits, but that’d show in my behavior too anyway.

A week has gone by since the psychological evaluation. My husband had to fill out another questionnaire about me again over the week-end. It was some kind of executive functioning questionnaire and I felt rather awkward at how many boxes my husband ticked. I also got a call from the student doing the evaluation on Monday with one more questionnaire. It seemed to be the other half of the systemizing/empathizing thing. I got to do that over the phone. The student also asked for my E-mail address, so that the psychologist could contact me regarding some questions and concerns I had written down and taken to the assessment.

I have mixed feelings about the possible outcomes of the assessment. I mean, I don’t even know whether I want to be autistic after all. Of course, you’d think, most people wouldn’t choose to be autistic over neurotypical. That’s not what’s at stake here though, since I won’t change neurotype if the psychologist diagnoses me one way or the other. I still think I need the validation that my impairments are real. Realizing these impairments makes me feel a little inferior to the people I love, and in that sense, it’d be great if I made them all up. Of course, that may be internalized ableism.

The Other Kind of “Pushy Parents”: My “Mind-Blowingly High” IQ and My Need for a Disability Label

I originally intended to write a post on my experience of the other kind of “pushy parents” when the “Hooked on Labels” report first came out. However, I felt somewhat kept from disclosing my parents’ take on what might or night not be wrong with me, because after all I’m still in the assessment process. A rather hurtful comment by my father last Friday made me want to write about this anyway.

By the other kind of “pushy parents”, I mean parents who deny their child a disability label or services for special needs children when the child needs this. Of course, I do have a disability label – I am blind -, and of course, I did go to special ed. It was clear to my special ed teachers and professionals that I had social, emotional and behavioral problems, among other issues, for which I needed help. Most of them however denied my high IQ. As a result, my parents fought for years to get this recognized and to get me an academically challenging education. They eventually won, only to have me go back into the care system after six years of mainstream secondary school.

My parents are incredibly disappointed in me. My father last Friday even went so far as to say that, in a contrived kind of way, I alwasy manage to end up in institutions. Somehow, with my mind-blowingly high IQ, I manage to always manipulate professionals into providing me support I don’t need.

Never mind that my IQ isn’t as mind-blowingly high as my parents would like to believe. My verbal IQ was once measured at 154. This is within the highly (not exceptionally) gifted range. This IQ score was measured exactly once. Other times, I scored much lower, usually around 130. My performance IQ can’t be measured on the Wechsler scales, because I am blind. There is a non-verbal intelligence test for visually impaired children (unfortunately there’s no adult version). I got it administered when I was eleven, but had so much trouble and was so easily frustrated that the ed psych couldn’t finish the test. Of course, my parents likely reasoned that this wasn’t due to poorer non-verbal skills but due to my refusing to do tactile assignments because I didn’t accept my blindness.

And of course, there is no reason for that low frustration tolerance and all the social, emotional and behavioral challenges I’ve ever had, except for my refusing to accept my blindness. My parents say I didn’t have behavioral challenges at all until I transferred to the school for the visually impaired. Makes me wonder why I had to transition at all, since it wasn’t because I had to learn Braille. After all, I transferred in the middle of Kindergarten and didn’t start Braille lessons till second grade.

However, even if I didn’t have obvious behavioral problems – ie. aggression or self-harm – as a young child, I definitely did show signs of social and emotional weaknesses and sensory issues. I was intrigued by strings of information, had trouble relating to other children and had stims and sensory aversions. These may not be problems a parent pays attention to when 1. the child has low vision and 2. the parent believes the child is mind-blowingly intelligent.

I understand some peculiarities in a child can be cute. I remember, for instane, my father bringing me the home supermarket’s peanut butter in the hospital because I wouldn’t eat the hospital’s brand. I was about five then. I remember my mother searching every clothes venue in town because I would only wear seamless socks. My parents were proud that, at age two, I had memorized the underground stops. My parents didn’t mind that, at the same age, I made this crawling-in-one-place movement in bed. They were surprised when I still did it at eight, frustrated when I still did it at twelve and outright angry when I still did it at eighteen. (For those who wonder, I stopped this behavior when I went to independence training at age nineteen.) All of these are potential signs of autism or similar disabilities. I wouldn’t have minded my parents denying that these are potential signs of a disability if they’d always accepted me for them. But they didn’t. Instead, they grew increasingly angry with me for my idiosycrasies. In fact, my self-discovery process relating to autism started with my father using “autistic” as an insult. He should be lucky that I cared to google the DSM criteria before self-identfying with a disorder that he’d insulted me with, or I’d have far more self-diagnoses than I ever had.

And here I am at age thirty, nearly fifteen years into my discovery process with regards to autism. Suddenly, somehow, the behavior that my parents found cute when I was two but were desperate for me to change when was eighteen, is no longer a problem. My mind-blowingly high IQ is, because I use it to con people into believing I deserve a disability label and services that I don’t need.

One last point. Suppose I do really have as mind-blowingly high an IQ as my father claims I do. So does he. Suppose I could use that mind-blowingly high IQ to manipuulate every single professional around me. So could he. So who out of us is the one who is being manipulative? Think on this.

Spectrum Sunday
Hooked on Labels - responses & other relevant posts linky