2024 is ending, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it has been my favorite year in a long while.

While it contained its own stressors, overall I feel so good to be at this stage in my life.

I love my home, I love my little life and “fur family” I have created with Aly, and I love my routine. On weekends, I look forward to the weekdays. I look forward to my weekly therapy appointments, and I look forward to my job. Stability and consistency has been so good for me, and most of my life never looked this way.

For a while I have viewed my life in chapters. I am a visual thinker, and I see the stages of my life as a linear process, and a new chapter with a new theme.

Recently I told my therapist that I believe I am in a new chapter of my life. She asked me what it is called. I told her that it didn’t have a name, but that it’s a really important chapter.

For the past 4-5 years my life has been associated with healing C-PTSD and depression. I’ve done SO much trauma work. I give myself a huge pat on the back for the intensity of the therapy I engaged in to work through some really dark stuff.

This past year, things have calmed down. Less flashbacks, no depressive episodes, no more depersonalization or derealization. Anxiety used to be an every day experience, and it’s not anymore. Not to the same extent, and not very often.

It was unfamiliar, and the unfamiliar can be scary. What does this mean that I used to have flashbacks and now I don’t? This should be a good thing. Feeling far removed from my trauma almost makes it harder for me to feel validated that it is real.

I talked about that in therapy a bit too, but now I am able to acknowledge that my trauma will always be my truth- even if it isn’t running my life.

This year’s theme was a continuation of something I was starting to come to terms with last year: I have masked a lot of struggles for too long.

This led to different assessments from July- October and receiving a diagnosis that actually explained a lot more than trauma had.

There was validation in this, but it’s not all “yay”. I had an idea of what my story was up until this point, and now I’m looking back and rewriting that story in a more accurate way. I’m left with grief that a big part of my experience and struggles were missed as a kid when I could have received support. I’m left with imposter syndrome, as I don’t fit the stereotyped traits that the world believes I should have. I now have a name for things I resented about myself since childhood.

However, I am also learning about this name through positive resources. It has corrected my negative self-perception as the topic is not as taboo as back then. I am finding community. I am also accommodating myself, and educating myself and others. I am embracing and appreciating the qualities I have, rather than trying to fight them.

I last wrote about self-acceptance, and a big part of accepting myself comes from understanding myself.

I don’t want to do things that most people my age like to do, and that’s okay. I’m tired of pushing away the things that made me happy as a kid because I told myself I needed to “grow up”. I want to prioritize my needs, even if they are different from others. I want to listen to my body, and say “no” when things don’t feel right for me. I want to enter the spaces that accept me, and leave the spaces that don’t. I want to embrace my comfort items. I want to bring back my American Girl dolls, keep sleeping with my teddy bear at night, and talk to my imaginary friends when I need to sort out my thoughts. In the past, I would have been embarrassed to say that. I needed them then, and I still benefit from them now.

I don’t need to force myself to fit into places that I wasn’t meant to fit into. I don’t have to feel inadequate because I think and communicate differently than others. Many things are really hard for me, but I also have many strengths.

Last holiday season I was very overwhelmed and sad. This year I am limiting the events I attend, taking quiet space when I need it, and finding time for the little joys of the holiday season that are more comfortable for me.

These changes sound so easy and simple, but I have never done these things with intention.

I feel lighter, I am thinking clearer, and I’m not using up as much energy anymore fighting against my challenges.

These challenges were never less important than my PTSD, and I should never have treated them that way.

For 2025, I don’t have any resolutions or goals. I want to take things day by day, week by week, and see how this “new me” evolves. I have a feeling it’s actually not new at all. This is who I’ve always been, and who I’m supposed to be.

I’m really really proud of myself. It is such a good feeling to have reached this place.

When I was young I developed this habit where I would close my eyes really tight when I thought of something I didn’t want to remember. Most of the time, it was related to something I said or did that embarrassed me, or how someone else at school treated me.

At this point in my life there is nobody bullying me but myself. I sometimes find myself straining my eyes closed at my work desk when I’m feeling hard on myself. In front of me are all of these positive messages from my friends/coworkers, but in these moments I’m too absorbed in my shame to look.

I wrote this in a support group recently:

“All of my life I have felt like an alien, like I don’t fit in this world or among others. And I’m realizing after my late-diagnosis that I still have those feelings among the autistic community. Can anyone relate to this? I have people I can relate to, and yet, I feel like I don’t belong. I wish I could stop seeing “there’s nobody else like me” as a bad thing.”

I received many comments from people confirming that they feel the same way. It was reassuring to know that I wasn’t alone in this, but I’m also a problem-solver and it has bothered me that I haven’t figured out how to change this within myself.

I read positive quotes, I write myself letters to build myself up, I attend therapy, I surround myself with good people. How can I make self-acceptance stick in my brain?

When you’ve had this habit for so long, it’s not easy to change. I’ve made progress, and that is worth something. It helped me to understand neurodivergence because I saw myself in a new light. There was nothing wrong about me, my brain just works a different way. However, there are people who do feel and think similarly to the way I do. I don’t want those people to feel alone either.

It’s hard to feel good about myself at work sometimes. I’ve needed a lot more accommodations, and while I’m grateful to have them, I also feel like I shouldn’t have them. I feel like this is temporary and that one of these days I need to give them up. I feel like these things make me stand out, and not in a good way.

When it comes to advocating for yourself, you first have to realize you’re worthy of it. You then have to find courage to ask for it, and then you accept the ways you are accommodated. I believe there is another piece to this. There is guilt, there is imposter syndrome, internalized ableism, and comparing yourself to everyone else.

This year I made progress in recognizing, “this is why this is hard for me!” instead of “why can’t I do this?” When I compare myself to others, or struggle at work, I hear the voice again that says “you should-”. “you should be able to do this” “you should suck it up” etc etc.

Haley! Be kinder! Haley, give yourself grace! Haley, it’s ok to be exactly how you are.

When things are hard, it doesn’t always mean I have to change. It might just mean I have to accept those parts of me.

Recently I celebrated 150 days of no added sugar. That was something that was entirely self-determination and the work began in my mind. Sometimes you have to want something badly enough before you can make a change happen. If I was able to make the commitment to quit sugar, it has to be possible to attain more self-acceptance and self-compassion. I know it isn’t that simple to make it happen overnight. I know I might not be able to do this entirely on my own.

I may feel different, and I may always feel that way, but it doesn’t mean that everyone else is completely ordinary. Everyone has their gifts and struggles and not all are visible. Mine are visible to me. At the end of day, I’m the one at my desk with my eyes tightly closed. I’d like to leave them open a bit longer.

This post is a bit uncomfortable, but also freeing in a way. I have this blog to be honest with myself, so this is something that I don’t want to hide.

My last post talked about my neuropsych evaluation and my language disorder diagnosis. I had shared that I was getting referred for another assessment to look a bit deeper into things. I got more answers on October 17th, when I was diagnosed autism spectrum disorder. People are usually diagnosed as children, so you can imagine how this might feel to learn this in your mid-late 20’s. Actually.. there isn’t just one feeling.

I’ll be honest, I had done a lot of research for months once this was suspected. I did not understand how I could possibly be autistic when my understanding of what autism looked like was based on stereotypical presentations and those with higher support needs than me. Knowing autism stereotypes can be beneficial to identify some people who present with commonly known characteristics, but for others it can be harmful and lead to a missed diagnosis. It is a spectrum because when you know one autistic person, you literally know one autistic person.

When it was disclosed to me that I had ASD, I was asked how I was feeling. I didn’t know. I had done my research to prepare myself for the possibility, but I still had no idea how I was supposed to feel.

What I learned is that autism (and even ADHD) is much harder to diagnose in girls. One reason for this is because it can present differently, and another reason is that girls & women are more likely to mask their behaviors and struggles to fit social norms/expectations.

Of course my diagnosis is happening at a time where autism is being taken both more and less seriously. I don’t watch TikTok, but I hear more and more people are being diagnosed or are suspecting they are autistic. I see this a few ways. I see this as just like any misunderstood diagnosis, when more research comes out and people learn more about it, of course diagnoses increase. We saw it even with covid, or endometriosis. Social media can be educational just as it is entertainment. When someone shares their story, others pay attention and relate. However, there are also people who make jokes about autism and think “well maybe I’m autistic because I relate to this meme, trait, etc”.

There is a difference between someone relating and saying “well everyone is a little autistic”, to someone who relates and then spends a great amount of time researching, reading books, and seeking out professionals. It’s not just about memes, it can create challenges in one’s life. No, not everyone is a little autistic.

Why am I sharing this? The belief that autism is becoming a “trend” is making it harder for people who are diagnosed to be taken seriously. I am looking back at my life and sitting with the fact that things I could have gotten support around were missed. Yet, I have an incredible amount of imposter syndrome for not meeting stereotypes or others believing you have to “look autistic”. It’s easy to minimize my struggles when I do not struggle immensely in every way.

I wrote in a previous post that this was hard for one provider to confirm because I also have trauma. This provider was particularly trained in trauma, so it made sense she would see things through this lens only. I needed to find the right professional who could adequately explain why my results showed autism, and to explain how trauma looks alike and different from autism. I was told both were true for me.

A psychologist told me that due to the fact that I was quiet and “well-behaved”, a lot of my struggles were likely missed in school. However, for me, I knew they were there. Growing up I had sensory sensitivities and shutdowns. I had social struggles and anxieties despite having friends. I had strong special interests and hyper fixations I kept to myself. I was bullied and better in low maintenance friendships where we were okay not talking every day. I had a strong need for routine and order, which also brought me strengths such as being detail-oriented and great at picking up on patterns. I would often find myself in situations of misunderstanding and miscommunication. As a kid I would be told I’m stubborn to apologize, but I often didn’t understand what I did or why I needed to. Or I would be unintentionally irritable because I was experiencing sensory overload. My facial expressions were either very easy to read, or really hard. For years I’ve been told I look sad, mad, or I’ll be asked what was wrong. If I was social and smiley that was normal, but if I became silent and in my own head people were concerned. I didn’t know why my resting face was so confusing for others, when I was just being myself. I didn’t know why I was told I was giving a tone or attitude, when I didn’t feel like I was. I had bigger emotional responses to change. I would get upset if I was interrupted when I was very focused on something. I wanted things to be done the way I wanted them. My mom would tell me that as a child there were times where she and my grandma would say my name, and I had a delayed response after being called multiple times. These are just some examples. There were many ways I met DSM criteria, and a lot of them presented in childhood.

Some of the traits I experience could apply to many others. Some people may say, “but you give eye contact.” However, if giving eye contact induces stress and energy and effort, that’s a problem. As a kid I would record myself or make faces in the mirror because I didn’t know how I came across to other people. I absorbed the communication and adapted to the behaviors of others. I gathered my sense of humor from characters I loved on tv. People in my life knew I could be shy and anxious, but I was also called animated and silly depending on my comfort zone. I felt that there were two versions of me and one others didn’t understand the way that I did.

When you spend a lot of time telling others “I feel different” or “something is wrong with me” and they assure you that you’re okay the way you are, their good intentions can often miss what you are trying to communicate. I didn’t mean that I was inherently flawed or broken. I was trying to communicate that things felt harder than they should be. Sometimes what people see, is very different than what is going on inside. I am the only one in my body.

I often love my quirks and differences. I’m not just trying to focus on my difficulties here. Being my unique self has led me to find some of the most true and genuine friends, and people I can relate to. I know what makes me happy and I have held on to those things my entire life. I challenge myself despite things not being easy. I prove to myself I can do many things. Though sometimes, I wish I knew I didn’t always have to try to leave my comfort zone. Sometimes it hurts me more than it helps me grow.

In my life now, I have a full time job, a serious relationship, and I am independent and on top of things. I thrive in my routine, so people don’t assume otherwise. However, when my routine changes I have emotional breakdowns or depression.

I originally sought testing because despite me doing well in many areas, I also struggle a lot at work and in my personal life. I knew I needed support. The people who notice this the most are my girlfriend, my supervisor at work, my closest friends, and my therapist of course. When I’m too overwhelmed or struggle with someone misunderstanding my words, my feelings grow so intense I feel like I could explode. It’s like I’m speaking another language. I’ve thrown things, I’ve unintentionally hurt myself, I’ve had full meltdowns. I will spend hours sitting on the shower floor. It’s not depression, it’s an entirely different thing. As a kid I turned everything inward, and as an adult I’m noticing myself handling things in the opposite way. If you don’t see me every day, I can look like I’m thriving.

Being diagnosed with autism doesn’t mean I need fixing. There isn’t anything to fix. This is just how I am and how my brain works. However, a diagnosis means finding the right support. I’ve already been making adjustments in the way I do things or accommodate myself. Even changes that feel so small have actually made a huge difference. Maybe I will do a post on that too.

One friend told me she believed I was autistic years ago. While pursuing the assessments, my old supervisor, my old roommate, and another friend believed I was as well. These people are either autistic themselves, work with people who are, or know someone who is.

Other people in my life don’t know as much, understandably. I for sure didn’t, and in many ways am still trying to learn. The small bunch I first shared this with have been supportive no matter their level of understanding.

Unfortunately, this diagnosis has made me so absorbed in what everyone else might think. Because of this, I haven’t taken the time to truly process how I feel about it. My therapist brought up the idea of me also working with an autism specialist/therapist so I can be educated in that way as well. I received this diagnosis and now I’m like “now what?” Who can I ask these questions to? It might be useful to have someone to check-in with once in a while who can help me understand autism better, as someone who is late-diagnosed. At the same time, I don’t want to be overwhelmed with more providers.

For some, a diagnosis/name doesn’t matter. For me, it always has. Whether it was my heart condition, endometriosis, arthritis, depression, ptsd- a name led me to the right support and guidance. Despite it taking a bit to truly accept this, I know that this is only a part of me. It’s still a part that matters a lot, and impacts how I think and see the world.

If it makes sense to me, that means I’ve completed a missing piece to my puzzle. I no longer need to ask the question “why am I like this?” I can’t explain how much that means to me to better understand myself. I’m having a lot more self-compassion.

Some things may always be hard, but if I can learn to make things a little easier, I will continue to be proud of the person I am and the person I will be.

I went to return to this draft to find that I never saved it..

That is one of the worst, if not THE worst things that can happen when blogging. I’m a bit less motivated to rewrite this now, but we will give it a try!

I wrote a post about my experience with neuropsych testing this past summer. This post is going to be about my results.

My results were confusing, upsetting, and disappointing, but I do believe I grew from this experience.

I thought that neuropsychological testing would give me the final, defining, complete answer about how my brain works.

Here is where I was wrong. There isn’t one answer, not always. Not when you have complex things going on. It does bring results, it does bring answers and explanations- however, it is just one person’s interpretation of the data you provide. Other providers may interpret the data differently. Someone who doesn’t live your life or live inside your body, will only evaluate you on several days (or however long) of testing. The tests are specific and truly provide information on how your brain works, but it doesn’t always mean the results will sum up the answers to your problems. At least, they didn’t with me.

I was referred for testing with ADHD and a sensory processing disorder in question.

What stood out in my testing from the very beginning was my trauma history. This makes sense, as it certainly does stand out when people hear my story. Where things got complicated is that because PTSD symptoms may overlap with other disabilities, it can be hard to determine what is going on. My trauma became the focus of my report. I did not seek testing to find out if I had PTSD. I knew this. I have been in therapy for years doing intensive prolonged exposure therapy. I have made huge progress. Still, I believe there are things I struggle with that will always be there despite how much therapy I do. I am aware that my brain works differently. The tests revealed this as well.

The scores conflicted with the reasoning.

• I scored highly for sensory issues, but did not receive a diagnosis for a sensory processing disorder.

• I scored highly for ADHD (inattentive type), but did not receive a diagnosis.

• I scored highly for ASD, but did not receive a diagnosis.

My new diagnosis were:

• mixed receptive-expressive language disorder

• social anxiety disorder

Here is the thing.. language disorders and social anxiety are common signs of ASD. I was not diagnosed because the symptoms can overlap with trauma, and trauma was what she was most confident in.

My results did not explain nor mention any answers to the struggles I sought testing for. It only confirmed I have trauma. I ask myself why I did all of the testing if she was going to question the results in the end. I shared my report with my psychiatrist. When she read the “attention and executive functioning” part of my report and also was confused that her description of the results sounded like clear-cut ADHD.

I cried for many days after receiving my report. Not only was it disappointing, it also was dismissive, and stated things about me that were not true (which reflected that the provider did not listen intently to me). It was not at all strengths-based.

When I went to my feedback appointment, I was honest with the provider that while some things did resonate, many did not. I for sure have social anxiety. It also would make sense that I would have a language disorder as it is really difficult for me to comprehend language in groups and keep up with a conversation. I also struggle with reading comprehension and auditory learning since I was a kid. I learn best visually. Those things explained a lot, but I still did not understand how that explained my other struggles. Why do I relate to an ASD diagnosis, and have to settle with the provider’s “uncertainty”? The provider said, “you’re allowed to disagree with me. I have humility. I can be wrong.” She said “All this is, is my best guess. I gave you my best, but you need to trust yourself. It’s not about what I think right now, it is about what feels right to you.” “I am providing you with part of an answer from my view, from my opinion, but it should never invalidate what you feel is true for you.”

This was nice, however..

How do I trust myself when what I believe is going against what a professional tells me?

This has been a question I have been asking myself since. I went to see someone for their opinion, and they want me to trust my own?

It is one thing to get a diagnosis that surprises you, but to have the explanation bring clarity and hope.

It is another thing to get a diagnosis that surprises you, and for it to not even resonate with your experience.

I decided to seek another opinion.

I want a chance to get a report that does resonate, and to have an idea of the best ways to support myself going forward. I am not doing a full neuropsych evaluation again. I decided that what I want to understand the most, is my scores around ASD. I am going to get assessed by someone who solely does ASD assessments. I found a place that is knowledgeable about trauma and autism, and how the diagnosis can be missed in high-masking adults (especially women). It was advised to me to seek another opinion and I decided that it is worth it. I have started to accommodate myself in my life, but I want to make sure I’m getting the right support. My struggles may be psychological, but there is a neurological component I need to understand as well. Life is hard enough, I don’t have to make things harder for myself.

The next updates to come will include my autism evaluation. I didn’t go through all of the exhausting and difficult tests just to “accept” a report that didn’t provide a thorough explanation. I don’t want a provider to make an educated guess just because I have a trauma history. I want someone to hear me, and what is happening for me, not what has happened to me.

I realized that my brain might be more different then I believed… (and that’s OK)

About a year ago I became curious if I had something wrong with me. I didn’t mean “wrong” as in personally flawed. By “wrong” I meant that I knew I was struggling and wanted to know why. I struggled in school as a child. I loved writing, but reading was hard. I could read at a good pace, I could pronounce and understand words, but I struggled to comprehend words when they were organized together. If I read a paragraph and then was asked what I just read, I wouldn’t know. Once I finished a sentence it had left my brain. With standardized testing, when it came to reading I would lose track, get distracted, and circle random bubbles in the multiple choice answers. My 4th grade teacher even reported to my mom that I drew lines and connected the dots.

In 6th or 7th grade I was put in a special reading class when all of my friends were assigned to take Spanish. I honestly enjoyed that class because it came easy to me, we didn’t have homework, and it was a smaller class so I felt comfortable to participate more.

I did well in school, but school never came easy to me. I loved writing (of course) and creative assignments, but I needed to work extra hard in many other areas. I felt like I took longer than my peers to understand things. I was not a good test-taker, I often forgot my homework, and I would cry because I felt so badly about myself.

My grades weren’t bad, I was well-behaved, and so I went under the radar for most of my teachers. Nobody could see how much I was truly struggling and how much harder I had to work. When they did see me struggling, they misunderstood what was happening. My teachers thought I was just shy and anxious, but they didn’t know why I had so much anxiety. My brain was working overtime.

Years later, I went to college, I was on the Dean’s list, I graduated on time. I needed support at times, and some tutors, but I did OK. Still, there were other ways I have struggled throughout my life that nobody seemed to understand. I would get overwhelmed with bright lights, loud noises, and have trouble following conversations when too many people were talking at once. I would get so overwhelmed at social gatherings I would shut down and get spacey. I have explained this away to be trauma-related, but I believe it was more than that. I didn’t realize how much sensory struggles I had until much later.

There is this thing called “masking” and I believe it is what I have done my entire life. I have struggled with eye contact, but would force myself to do it so I didn’t look rude. I never threw tantrums over my sensory struggles, I just held my discomfort inside. I didn’t ask for help in school, because I believed I “should” just be able to do what was expected of me.

I grew up in a chaotic environment, so while my body was always in fight or flight, it was understandable I didn’t take time to really reflect on things that were hard for me. I always just pushed through. My jobs following school were always stressful as well. I worked in busy restaurants, and then a psych hospital. I didn’t have “think time” I just had to dive right in.

until I got my dream job…

Almost 2 years ago I got a job that has been perfect for me. It is fairly predictable, it is supportive, and my body feels at peace at work. I love what I do, which consists of supporting adults at a mental health clinic. While the most important parts of my job I seem to excel at, I found myself struggling in other areas. I have been struggling in team meetings. I have trouble following the flow of conversations. When a question is asked I realize I take longer than others to process my thoughts. By the time I go to share, the conversation will move along or my voice will be drowned by others. I had this huge realization. I always thought my struggle in groups was due to social anxiety, but I think it has more to do with my processing speed. I either cannot judge when to chime in, or I lose my thoughts before I speak them. I started participating in virtual meetings by writing my thoughts through the Zoom chat. Writing comes easier to me, and my thoughts feel more structured. I was finding myself having a huge drop in self-esteem following these meetings. I have so many things to share, but either I can’t or I am afraid to because I worry it will not make sense. I would be called on which made me panic inside as well. I know people were trying to include me, but I couldn’t gather my thoughts as quickly. I would force myself to say anything so I didn’t look bad, and then I would be overthinking whatever it was I had said. Even if others told me I had made sense, it didn’t matter to me. I knew that still wasn’t the way I wanted to say it.

This isn’t the only reason why team meetings are hard. The office lights can be so hard on my eyes that it would give me panic attacks and sensory overload. I went to an eye doctor thinking my sensitivity to light had to do with that, but he said my eyes were fine. I bought these light sensitivity glasses meant for indoor & outdoors, and for a while I was ashamed to wear them at work. People think they’re sunglasses. I had to get over the fear of what others will think and I needed to accommodate myself. My anxiety dissipated once I wore them, because I was much more comfortable.

My therapist wondered if I have ADHD or a sensory processing disorder. She explained that maybe that is why I struggle in meetings, and that people with ADHD can also struggle with sensory things.

At one point in the year my supervisor introduced us to this new way of charting on Excel. I couldn’t understand her template, so I made my own chart. She told me there was a reason why I needed to use hers, and this overwhelmed me. I would stare at it for weeks. She explained it so many times and I just didn’t understand. It was making me irritable and angry. I wasn’t angry with her, she truly wanted to help me. I was angry at myself. I felt like a little kid who was frustrated that they couldn’t do something. I got so upset to the point of throwing a book in my office, behind closed doors. Was this a processing thing? A struggle with transitions when I had been used to a certain way of doing things? I realized that all of these ways I struggled as a child in school were showing up for me in my adult full-time job.

steps to neuropsychological testing..

At first I was told there was no need to get a neuropsych evaluation as an adult. I later heard that many seek it as an adult (even very very late in life) because they did not receive the right support as a child and it stayed with them. For some, getting answers later in life improved their self-esteem, helped them to understand their strengths and weaknesses, and find ways to support themselves now in life. While I can’t go back in time, this felt important to me to get more answers now. I am open to receiving a diagnosis, whether it is ADHD, or a learning disability. I know that some things shouldn’t be this hard, and I owe it to myself to get some answers so that I can stop being so hard on myself for struggling to meet my own expectations.

My therapist referred me to a neuropsychologist who also believed that I likely have a disability of some kind. I went through 3 days of hours-long testing with her. Before testing, the neuropsychologist gathered an entire history. One of my concerns and confusions is that because I have PTSD, symptoms can overlap with other disabilities. This woman had a great understanding of trauma and did separate evaluations to determine which symptoms can be related to trauma, and which could have been an existing developmental disability.

The tests were extensive and some were easier than others. There were tests that induced panic in me, and several times I had to pause to calm my tears and nervous system. I could hear the same voice in my head that has been there all of my life, “this shouldn’t be this hard!” The woman also recognized that I would go into freeze response, and that some things I really did know but would have trouble thinking when overwhelmed. She also picked up on the fact that I struggle with self-doubt immensely, to where I was comfortable saying “I don’t know” instead of giving a wrong answer. She encouraged me to take a guess. When I got the answer right, she gave me a look that implied see, you can do this! She said, “I’m starting to figure you out!”

These tests aren’t fun. It may sound cool to be able to get an evaluation of how your brain works and to be given some challenges, but it’s serious. It’s long days and it’s hard to transition from one test to another. I was incredibly burnt, and emotionally exhausted for the rest of the day.

The neuropsychologist included one last test which was for ASD. This is something I never told anyone I had been curious about for the past several years. There are many myths and stereotypes of an autistic experience, but they call it a spectrum for a reason. I have learned that autism is incredibly under diagnosed, especially in women and girls because it presents differently than it does in boys.

One of the neuropsychologists other assumptions throughout the testing was that I may have an auditory processing disorder. When I read about it online, I did resonate to it in many ways.

I have been waiting over a month for my results, but I appreciate how thorough my provider is being. She has to analyze every piece of data and write a full report.

I’m proud of myself for doing it, but now is the waiting game. I’m trying to tell myself that if I do receive a diagnosis or a new name for things, it is just for the purpose of getting the right support! This is a positive thing, not a negative thing. In a way it is kind of emotional. I wish I did this as a child. I think it could have prevented years of school anxiety and wondering what’s wrong with me. Perhaps I wouldn’t have seen it as something being wrong with me, but have seen it as, this is why this happens! There are ways to support and nurture your inner child as an adult. This is one thing I’m doing for little Haley, but also the person I am today. My supervisor is understanding and willing to work with me if I need any accommodations. Aside from work, I need to stop masking as well. I will always try my best, but I need to stop pretending to be someone who is confident and comfortable all the time. I need to start unmasking, and become confident saying, “this is what I need.”

But first, I have to learn what that is.

Stay tuned!