Posted on March 31, 2021
Since this is my blog, the experiences are predominately from my point of view but I thought it would be really useful, as well as interesting, to get a different perspective on the same scenario. So, with that in mind plus the fact that most resources are aimed at the parents of young autistic children, I asked my Mum if I could interview her about what it’s like to be the parent and often advocate for a young adult with Autism Spectrum Disorder. I came up with a list of questions and she answered them. I had almost no input on her answers, only to ask for more information or detail if I thought she hadn’t fully answered the question or finished a thought. We’re hopeful that this could be of some help to parents with adult children managing a form of Autism.
I’ve talked about what it was like for me to get a late diagnosis but what was that experience like for you?
The process of getting a diagnosis for you was frustrating at best and distressing at worst. You were very clear about your need to know the causes of your difficulties and so refusal from medical professionals to engage with that need was hard to witness. I needed to do the research, follow up possible assessments and/or therapies and talk about your challenges against a backdrop of suspicion of being overprotective and a distrust of my motives. Even when it became clear that your inability to talk for yourself at the outset was a result of Selective Mutism and your experience with those professionals, I was still met with a resistance to engage with me on your behalf.
Although I’m more able to speak for myself now, what has it been like having to do so much advocating for me?
It always felt like it was my role to do this until you were able to do it for yourself. I wasn’t trying to fix things, just get your voice heard, your experience understood so that the problems you were facing could be addressed and the right support provided.
I knew all the answers to questions you were being asked because we’d talked about it all beforehand. Both before and after your diagnosis, it has just felt like I can be the means to you being heard and hopefully understood as and when you are not able to do it yourself.
As in your first question, this doesn’t always work! And I do often feel frustrated by a refusal to accept my intentions, confusing it with a reluctance to ‘allow’ you to speak for yourself/become independent.
Knowing me but having an outside perspective, what would you consider to be the positives and negatives of having Autism Spectrum Disorder?
This is really difficult for me as all I see is YOU, with all your qualities and all your challenges. Combine this with the fact that each person with ASD presents so differently and I do find it difficult to generalise. Understanding more about women on the spectrum now, I see your very singular focus on anything you set out to do as a positive. I think your intense empathy is a double bind, giving you a compassion that can then often be overwhelming. The biggest negative I see is your level of anxiety. This is often debilitating and always massively exhausting and affects most aspects of your life.
How do you think things would’ve been different if my ASD had been recognised when I was younger?
This is a little easier to answer as I think, from all I see now, knowing about it earlier may have enabled us to access support for you and given you access to specialist resources. Having said that, I wonder if a diagnosis earlier might have ended up giving you a label that meant expectations, both your own and society’s, may have been different for you. Increased awareness of and understanding surrounding neurodiversity is relatively recent.
What do you think is the most important skill or trait when it comes to parenting a young adult with ASD?
This question makes me want to ask you what you feel has been most important but my sense is that being there for you, trying to put aside any preconceptions and opinions of my own so that I am able to really listen and hear what you are telling me, leave aside any of my own anxieties or fears, to support and encourage you to do what you want to do; a combination of protection when things are tough and support to push forward when you feel able.
I also feel it has been important to be prepared to read and research for myself and learn all about the condition so I can share this whenever it feels necessary to inform the argument for support. And to be prepared to persist when first attempts are met with a negative response.
I’ve often talked about feeling like a burden for not moving out or contributing more as a young adult. What are your thoughts on this?
In answering this, I would like to reference a quote here, which I think explains how I feel about this. I found this during one of my searches and thought it was a positive recognition of the difference I see and how it affects your life in the sense of the ‘what’ and ‘how’ you contribute and participate. Keri Opai, a Mental Health Service Award Winner in New Zealand, consulted the Maori disabled community in order to develop variants in language that differ from what he called the “sometimes condescending English terms,” and instead emphasised the ‘gaining [of] strength and ability.’ So the word for ‘disabled’ itself is ‘whaikaha,’ which means to “have strength or to be differently able.” He also spoke of people with autism having ‘their own timing, spacing, pacing and life-rhythm’ and so interpreted autism as ‘takiwatanga,’ meaning ‘in his or her own time and space.’ (Te Reo Hapai, the Language of Enrichment by Keri Opai)
I do understand that you feel this way though but I know that you do what you can when you can, and that this inevitably fluctuates according to what you have going on at any particular time. With the anxiety and fatigue you experience on a daily basis, and your focus being studying at the moment, it just doesn’t make sense that you do more than you are able to, nor that you would move out to live independently, with all the extra demands that would make on you, yet. There is plenty of time ahead for that. Until then, I get to enjoy your company and give you the support you need.
I’ve been taking various medications and going to different forms of therapy for years now. What do you think have been the effects of those, positive and negative?
I have always felt that it would be a combination of therapy and medication that would be likely to be the best way forward, and I think we both agree now that this has been the case. It was challenging to find a therapist that you felt able to work with but once we did, we knew instantly that you could start moving forward, in your own time and in whatever way felt possible, something your therapist has always supported.
Regarding medications, I do have concerns about their effects on you physically as well as mentally and appreciate that living together does mean I can help monitor these effects and see patterns and changes that maybe you can’t.
What do you think the hardest part of living with ASD is?
Again, looking at you, I would say that the hardest part for you, of living with ASD, is the sense of feeling different and feeling left behind your peers; and watching you being so exhausted by managing the mental health issues that have troubled you as a result of the late diagnosis.
Do you feel your life is different because I’m autistic?
Yes, my life is different to what I had expected it would be at this point, but then so is yours. But we deal with that, and make it the best we can, for both of us.
What has been or is the hardest part of parenting a young adult with ASD?
I have often felt very isolated, and criticised for continuing to be your voice when you are not able to speak. And I do worry about the barriers you may face in a world that does not always recognise the assets and abilities of neurodiverse people, expecting autistic people to change rather than have society change the many inhospitable or incompatible environments and expectations that may hinder them.
What help/advice would have been helpful to you at any point?
All the way through… someone willing to believe in my intentions and acknowledge that, I, as a parent, only have your best interests at the core of everything I do.
So hopefully her responses to these questions have been helpful or reassuring to the parents among you guys. During this process, she actually realised that she had questions for me so we decided to do the same thing in reverse and that post will be up tomorrow!
Category: about me, anxiety, autism, diagnosis, medication, mental health, quotes, response, therapy, treatment Tagged: advocate, anxiety, asd, autism, autism awareness, autism diagnosis, autism in girls, autism in women, autism resources, autism spectrum, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic adult, diagnosis, disability, disabled, empathy, fatigue, focus, independence, interview, invisible disability, keri opai, late diagnosis, maori, medication, mental health, mental illness, mother, mum, negatives of autism, neurodiverse, neurodiversity, parenting, parenting autism, positives of autism, selective mutism, therapy, treatment, university
Posted on March 13, 2021
As of today, I have been self isolating for a whole year. 365 days. In that time, I’ve probably left the house no more than twenty times: for one morning of work (that had to be done out while the rest I’ve been able to do from home), for medical appointments, for swimming/hydrotherapy. And a haircut (when my Trichotillomania was particularly bad) during a period when it was considered safe to have one. But other than that, as a vulnerable person, I’ve stayed home. I worked out the numbers and that means I’ve spent 95% of the last year in my house. I look at that number and it kind of blows my mind. I’ve always been a homebody but this is so not the same thing.
So, to acknowledge the occasion, I thought I’d make a post about it. I thought about doing a list of good things and bad things, but given that the year has been dominated by the pandemic, that just felt wrong. Like, in general, it feels like the bad things carry so much more weight; a list like that just didn’t feel like an appropriate way to look at the last year. So, instead I thought I’d make a list of some of the things I’ve learned this year. There have been so many new experiences, new approaches to everyday tasks, new thoughts, new emotions, and so on. So I thought that might be a better way of looking at things. I doubt I’ll remember everything but I’ll give it a go.
As I said, I’m sure there are more things that I’ve learned during this time but I think that these are all of the big ones, the big, personal ones. I’m included in the group currently being vaccinated (although I’ve yet to hear anything) so maybe I will be heading out a little more often once that happens, if only to get some more exercise. But to be honest, given how this last year has affected my mental health, I don’t think I’m going to be exactly quick to adjust to the idea that things are somewhat safer (the government certainly seems to think so, what with their plan to come out of lockdown). As desperate as I am to see my friends and family again and get back to swimming again, I don’t think I’m going to feel safe again for a long time: as I said, I don’t cope well with change.
Category: about me, anxiety, autism, body image, covid-19 pandemic, diagnosis, emotions, life lessons, mental health, music, therapy, treatment, trichotillomania, university Tagged: adjustment, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic adult, change, community, coronavirus, covid-19, covid-19 vaccine, diagnoses, diagnosis, essential workers, family, fear, friends, friendship, frontline workers, grateful, gratitude, hand sanitiser, health, helping, independent artist, learning, lessons, lessons learned, lockdown, mental health, mental health in lockdown, multiple diagnoses, online classes, online learning, online study, online therapy, online university, pandemic, pandemic 2020, planning, remote therapy, remote writing session, routine, self isolating, sensory, society, structure, swimming, therapy, uncertainty, unity, unsigned artist, vaccine
Posted on February 27, 2021
Social media is a big part of all of our lives. For me personally, it’s a massive part of my job, of being an independent artist, of getting my music out into the world. It’s a big part of sharing these blog posts with people. And it’s a big part of keeping up with the lives of my family and friends. There’s some really good stuff there. But I also find it really hard; it causes me a lot of anxiety and when I’m in a fragile state of mind, it can contribute to my depression. And since this is the place where I talk about those things, I thought I’d write something about social media and some of the reasons I struggle with it. Maybe you guys will relate.
I’m pretty good at curating a mentally and emotionally safe social media bubble. It still allows healthy debate and differing views, of course, but I’m just really careful about where those views are coming from, i.e. not people who continuously rant and rage but people who share carefully considered thoughts and discuss them with equally considerate people. It’s obviously not that straightforward – it never is with social media – but it is possible to block out a lot of the negativity, the people who are being negative just to be negative. But even then, there are always posts that pop up out of nowhere and knock your feet out from under you.
It was a strange experience, researching for this blog post. While I’m usually writing about my own experiences on this blog (in this case with social media), I often read other blogs and articles to get a broader perspective, get more context, and making sure I’m not missing anything that would be important to include. During my reading for this post, something that came up a lot was the issue of presenting a persona online that isn’t quite the same as your own and to me, that was a surprise. I’ve honestly never felt the pressure to present as anything other than myself – although, I admit, snippets of myself rather than the whole experience (no one needs to know about this boring day or that book I never finished reading). I’ve always seen social media as a reflection of myself, the good and the bad. Maybe that’s an Autism thing – linked in with the commonly occurring need for and sense of honesty. So I can’t really speak to that; I’ll leave that to someone who has more experience with it (I wanted to add a link but I haven’t found one that I think is actually helpful beyond explaining the problem – I’ll add one as soon as I find one that offers something more helpful).
I don’t know what the answers are. But just because we don’t know what the solutions are, it doesn’t mean we stop talking about the problems. That is, afterall, how we eventually come up with the solutions. I need to use social media in order to work and I’m aware that I do get some real good out of it but the downsides can be really hard to handle. So, yeah, I don’t really know what to do. But writing out my thoughts has always helped me and maybe some of you out there will relate to this. Maybe you’ll have some thoughts about it; maybe you’ll just feel a little less alone. I hope so.
Category: about me, anxiety, autism, chronic fatigue, depression, mental health, music Tagged: anxiety, branding, depression, instagram, marketing, mental health, mental illness, social media, social media bubble, thinking out loud, trigger, triggers, twitter

Hi! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder, ADHD, OCD, CPTSD, depression, and anxiety, as well as other health issues including hEDS and POTS.
I’m an alt-pop singer-songwriter (it’s my biggest special interest and I have both a BA and MA in songwriting) and my most recent EP, Too Much And Not Enough, Vol. 1, is available on all music platforms and is the first in the series of works based on my experiences as an autistic person.
Finding Hope