So first of all, I thought I would do a little introduction and explanation on the name of this blog.
I’m autistic and I am a Brony. Well… that took all of five seconds. Actually three seconds since I timed myself speaking the words. Hope I didn’t put anyone to sleep.
Ok, so that was a very simple explanation that I am sure most of you have grasped from the title.
Below is the more in-depth version. I have decided to break this up in two parts. The first part will focus on the Autistic part of the title.
I am twenty seven year old woman. I guess that would technically make me a pegasister, but autistic brony rolled off the tongue better, but more on that later.
Ahem, where was I? OH, yes I am twenty seven and the last time I looked at my chest, I was most defiantly a female or an overly obese man with man boobs.
I have Asperger’s Syndrome which is on the autism spectrum disorder, but on the mild end. Rain man I am not. I’m the more social awkward type you see reading a book in the corner while everyone else is partying and wishing I were in the middle of Antarctica with the penguins.
No, I didn’t diagnose myself on the interwebz, a genuine certified ponified (see what I did there) psychiatrist did that when I was in the 11th grade.
I’ve always had issues growing up. I never fit in and people could always tell there was just something off about me. I was bullied horribly to the point of wanting to kill myself at times. I had two left feet, I pushed when it said pull took two steps back and no steps forward and forget marching to the beat of a different drum. I had a whole damn marching band.
It just wasn’t until I was seventeen that we had a name for why I never fit in or why I never could grasp holding a pencil correctly or why I couldn’t stand to have tags in my shirt. Back then we had never even heard of the term before nor had anyone else around us. It hasn’t been until a few years ago that it has gone more main stream really.
Now everyone seems to have heard about it and formed an opinion about it. There are characters with it on tv and it is brought up on the media. Kids as young as three or four are being diagnosed and are getting help.
I sometimes wonder what might have happened if I had born ten or fifteen years later. Would I have gotten more help than one year and one class in rescourses that were more study hall than anything? Would I still be unemployed and living at home on SSI?
I could go on really but it doesn’t change anything. I am what I am and I am learning to accept that.
Now we shall move onto the Brony part of the blog. I can already picture the trolls now, drooling in rabid anticipation of some fresh meat
Hmmm, that reminds me, I'm hungry.
