First memory of being autistic

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The thread about eye contact sparked this. Was just curious about people's first memories of autism awareness in general.

My first autistic related memory, as far as I can tell:

i have a vague memory of sitting in perhaps a kitchen, young, i want to say five but i have no idea really, but quite young. im doing something. my mom walks by. I look up and say "hi!" she says hi. i go back to what im doing. maybe this time im standing up, i dont know, she walks by again only a few min later . I say "Hi!" again ,she says hi again sounding a little irritated. this scenario repeats itself one moe time with me saying hi when she walks by. finally she gets mad "you're not supposed to say hi evwry time i walk by!! !" i think, oh, i didnt know that. i think, oh. how are you supposed to tell when you're supposed to say hi and when you're not? they told me to say hi when someone you know walks by, what if they walk by and come back 20 min later do you say hi then what is the time interval that has to elapse

i was way too young to be thinking of these things

it might sound inconsequential, but what i remember is even at that young age feeling so scared because i didnt understand something that seemed to be so simple to everyone else, and already i could see my lack of understanding was going to cause me trouble, ie, my mom was mad at me

Most of my early memories have to do with not understanding the world around me and being scared of it. Of having to be on the defensive and fight people around me. Of kids picking on me from the earliest grades. Of a babysitter telling my parents when I was 8 or 10 "she argues like an adult." The crushing feeling of me against the world. The glass-like feeling of isolation and otherness. Sometimes, I was able to shut out the world and be oblivious. I was happy alphabetizing my Babysitter Club books or playing board games with babysitters. The games were played the same way every time. I could understand them. The babysitters gave me attention and weren't going to hurt me like the kids at school. The alphabetizing had an order to it.

Nothing else in life had an order to it.

I'm 22. I'm tired of feeling like this. I want my life to make sense.
I want to fit into the world around me.

Anyone else want to share what they can remember about their first feelings of ever feeling what we would now define as autistic?

Kate

I remember walking around the clothesline over and over as a kid - it was one of those round rotating ones. When I came back in my parents were talking about me walking around in circles, and how this was one of many weird things that I would do. When they confronted me about it I got very defensive, and told them that what I was doing was benign and they were being idiots thinking it was evidence of anything wrong with me.

Another thing I remember is telling my parents to back off a lot, because I didn't like them knowing about my emotions or experiences. I didn't want them to emotionally support me or anything like that.

There are other things but I can't remember them off the top of my head. I guess one other major thing is that I used to have huge anger outbursts at times. This continued up until my late teens (and increased in their seriousness), but now it's not a problem anymore. I remember my first employer even knew about these outbursts as he spoke with my mother about them. He concluded that I hated women??? - and took me out once to tell me to change my ways. Well I don't know how he concluded that I hated women, since back then I pretty much hated everyone equally.

I think my first memory of showing signs of AS was when I was in primary school. Before then I had problems in preschool too, particularly with not being able to relate to the other children, but the first time I specifically remember was one of the first times I went into morning assembly in primary school. All the children in the hall were talking at once, and to me it seemed like just a mush of sound. I told the girl sitting next to me that we should probably do what the other children were doing, and then started to try and imitate the noise I heard, which obviously must have seemed very strange to her. Still, I didn't know that the others were all chatting with each other, having not seen children chat like that before, so at the time I just thought they were making random noise.

(At least I think this was to do with AS, I have to admit, I still often find that a lot of things I do I didn't even realise is to do with AS until I read about them here. Being here is definitely a learning curve for me... )

I remember being in grade one. The teacher gave the class some colored blocks to play with. We were supposed to line the blocks up to make patterns. You know, three small blocks lined up together equaled one larger block. I remember being totally confused as to why we had to do this stupid pointless thing. All the kids around me seemed happy doing it and it was as though they knew something I didn't, and I was the only one not catching on. I remember that I felt frightened by this.

We were learning to read and everyday I would take one of the first grade learn to read books home. I remember the Dick and Jane readers. To my six year old mind, these books were pretty damn interesting. I would take the reader back to school next day and tell the teacher I'd read it. I was really enjoying myself. One day the teacher refused to give me anymore books. She took me to her cupboard where she kept the books and explained that I had read all the grade one readers and there wouldn't be any more until I went to grade two. I felt confused and afraid. That day I ran home from school.

Apparently many schoolboards today still have a policy of keeping children at their grade level in terms of learning by refusing to give them the next year's curriculum in cases where they are learning ahead of their peers.

I think I started realizing I was different at about 5. Before that I was sort of in a fog, though I remember people telling me to quit making odd noises over and over. My older sister and I both were plunked into a strict Catholic school at 5. First grade, no kindergarten. She was a good student, I didn't have a clue what was going on around me or what I was supposed to do. I didn't understand a lot of what the teacher said. I was in trouble all the time. I guess the teacher complained to my parents that I didn't know my letters or how to count. No one had shown me. They were quite upset with me and that's when I really started feeling like a bad person. My parents didn't try to teach me what to do although my sister did. About mid-year they just took me out of school to get my tonsils out and didn't send me back. They told me it was because of my tonsils but later I found out the school said I wasn't ready. After that I always hated myself. That was about 1968, and I wonder sometimes if they should at least have tested me for learning problems, though they didn't know what Asperger's was. I don't like to think about those years too much, but it's a bit cathartic to be able to tell someone now. I remember how I had worshipped my mother, but I stopped trusting her around that time because after that she always seemed angry at me, but wouldn't talk about it.

i didnt think i was different from any other children until i was about 12 or so. before this point i didnt reall think about it. i had friends in primary school becuase they had a no tolerence for bullyung and the teachers had it under control - my mum was and still is a teacher at the school.
i do remeber when i was little, say 4 or so, playing with one same toy every day at play school, and slapping any other children that even touched the toy.
i made no attempt to play with them. i didnt know you were supposed to involve other people in your games.
i was also adopted, and my adoptive mum tells me now that my biological mother did not attempt to socially integrate me when i was reall little. i used to play by myself and that is how i thought you were meant to.
i still enjo playing by myself nowadays but i like to play board games and online games involving other people and im 21 (22 in 2 days)
i started collecting football stickers for the world cup and i have an album to put them all in. i enjoy swapping them with the kids on the caravan park. (i work in a shop on a caravan park and when the kids come to buy the stickers i say that im collecting them and they can come and swap with me)
my boss asked me if i thought i was too old for football stickers and i said no.

the other day i had o wait for somebody at band practise... its asamba band with all ages in, so i went on the swing park with a 6 year old lass who is the daughter of the person i was waiting for... i absolutely loved the swings and i went on the obstackle course aswell. i thought to myself maybe im too old but then i thought who cares. i want to play so i did.

A couple of memories that this discussion jogged:

I failed Kindergarten. I'm the only person I've ever met who had to repeat Kindergarten. Something about being "too immature" to proceed to Grade 1.

Interestingly, once I did reach Grade 1, I read through the readers in that first year to a grade 3 level. At least they let me do that...

I remember in the 1st grade on the playground one day all the kids started pretending to be bees.
It amazed me how they all adopted the same fantasy quickly and they were running around buzzing.
I just could not bring myself to do it, and couldn't understand the appeal.
I stood there watching them all, the teacher was the only other person not participating.

My earliest memory of being autistic involves a chandelier. Those of you who have been reading my posts for quite a while might already know that I was terrified of a chandelier in my apartment. Anyways, the memory goes like this. I'm lying in my crib, looking up at the ceiling. I see the chandelier hanging off of there, casting a grayish shadow on the ceiling around it, while the dusk outside casts the room in an eerie glow. My heart is racing and my eyes are filled with terror. Meanwhile, I can hear my parents' voices, as they stand near my crib, talking. I can only catch random fragments of the conversation: "Why is he scared? ... Is he seeing something? ... I don't know. ... There's nothing scary on the ceiling?" (Or is there?) Eventually I fall asleep, only to be jarred awake by a nightmare.

The earliest memories I had of being autistic was 1983 at daycare.

It all began one morning during the days of late spring and early summer. It involved the battle over the tricycles that the kids would race to get during time spent in the play area outside. On this morning I had gotten a tricycle and riding it around by myself when another kid who asked me if he could have my trike approached me. Any other kid, as I found from the times I would ask would just scream “NO!! !” at you and pedal off. I on the other hand passed up the opportunity to scream at this kid, and I instead went into lengthy explanation as to why he couldn’t have the trike – plus I promised him to give it to him when I got bored with it, very diplomatic indeed!

Almost at the same moment that kid left to go do something else, I thought to myself how odd it was for me to not to act the same as the other kids. No matter how many other times the opportunity came up for me to emulate the other kids in that manner, I just could not do it.

I could also remember that I couldn't play like the other kids too. Every so often they hauled out this water table which they would fill up and put toys in. The other kids would engage in imaginitve play, but I remember not knowing how to do that.

I recall once playing a game of musical chairs. The prize that particular day was pack of post-its. I remember thinking to myself "How lame of a prize is that!"

I also remember being in trouble a lot too at daycare.

My first memory really is from preschool, now that I think about it. We were on a field trip, to some museum, I believe, and I was facinated by a fossil exhibit in the back of the room. I kept touching it, and the teacher kept repremending me. "Brandon, don't touch that."

All that registered in my mind was "touch, touch, touch, Brandon touch, touch, touch..."

_________________

It is always better to say what you want someone to do than what you don't want them to do. For instance, in stressful conditions if you want someone to hold on to the rope - it is better to say "hold on" or "keep hold" than "don't drop it" because chances are they'll only hear "drop it".

My earliest memories that I'd link to aspieness - though I had no clue at the time.

In pre-school/kindi, I guess I was 3 and a bit, I couldn't tie my shoe laces and I remember the teachers would not help me. I also remember at the same place, the other kids would not let me on the playground equipment and they wouldn't share or take turns, and I'd already been taught that was wrong, and the teachers didn't care about that either. I don't think it occured to me to tell my parents. I think I did tell them I was miserable there.

What made my mum realise there was a problem was at the Christmas function - I wanted to sit with my mum and couldn't understand why I wasn't allowed to, and the teachers wanted me to sit in the "choir" with all the other kids even though we weren't doing anything at the time like singing. The teacher said to me in front of my mum, that my mum wouldn't love me if I didn't do what the teacher said. My mum was furious - and we left immediately. After that I had a new pre-school/kindi which I liked much better. I wasn't tortured by the teachers or other kids.

hmm, this is a hard one as i am not entirely sure i am even aspie / autistic but i can think of lots of things that would point to it.

I have always loved sitting under tables and spent most of my early years sat under a table.

I never use to be able to play properly and use to end up getting frustrated and hitting the other child, this lead to me just sitting at the corner of the playground all lunch waiting for the teachers to come back. i preferd that tp trying to play with the other people though.

i always use to love runnoing in circles. and i still do it alot now :d

and lots of othe thingies toooo.

jammie

My first memory of being Autistic was when I was watching the Evening News, in the Summertime. They were showing some footage of London, England and I saw the Routemasters and Black Cabs. I kept playing back the images in my Mind, for 3 Months.