Dear Past James,
This may be hard to believe but this is the 24-year-old version of your current 4-year-old self, contacting you from 2018 (that’s 20 years away). Right now, you’re probably getting ready to start Primary School in September and you are, no doubt, spending every living minute being forced into GAP kangaroo hoodies with pyjama pants (a compromise, as you would rather be naked) whilst discussing Mr Men with every living soul that comes into your perimeter (by the way, the whole pretending to be Mr Topsy Turvy and saying everything backwards non-stop, gets old real quick!).
I’m writing to you today as I am just about to start a new chapter in my life (our lives?) and I thought that, before I branch off in this new direction, I could impart the lessons I have learnt, which helped me and so will, hopefully, help you through some of those tough moments which are right around the corner.
(Me discovering my Christmas present in 1998)
First things first: as I said, you will be starting primary school this year and for you and everyone around you, it is not going to be easy. You’re going to punch and scratch your way through every lesson and you’re going to feel compelled to climb up on tables every day, so that you can jump from one to another and kick anyone in the head who tries to pull you down (not cool).
During your time away from school you are going to do everything humanly possible to remain away from the public; hibernating with a Gameboy or box of Lego and live on a diet of bacon, Shepherd’s pie, bacon, cups of tea and, yes, more bacon – also, you’re going to be pretty much naked this whole time, but let’s ignore that for a while as we tackle the more pressing issues (besides it makes for some hilarious home photos when you grow up).
When you start school, you’re going to find that, at best, people will describe you as ‘troubled’, whilst, more often than not, you are going to be (rightly) described as a ‘little s***’.
The thing is, I know that this isn’t because you are a naughty kid, but because you are sad. The world doesn’t make sense to you right now and the things you want to do will always be deemed as inappropriate – even though, to you, they seem totally natural (and I am not just referring to your naturist lifestyle).
Unfortunately, these things aren’t going to get better for a long, long time because, as bad as things get over the next year, things get much worse as you grow up; especially for the people around you who have to deal with a 6ft pre-teen brawler.
The pinnacle of these ‘bad times’ is going to come at the end of primary school/the beginning of high school, when the home that you have grown up in and made hostages friends out of the local neighbours, is going to be sold and you will have to move to a new house.
You’re going to spiral pretty hard after this; decide that the only thing you have control over in life is your diet and, not long after that, you’ll be drastically underweight and hospitalised because, as it turns out, taking control of your diet is a pretty bad idea, when you can’t even make toast.
(Me showing those ugly curtains where they belong)
I understand this sounds tough (and trust me, it is), but things will start looking up after this. It might be the shock from starving yourself into a 2D figure or it might be that something just clicks after years of therapy, but during your teen years, you will develop the skill to see the bigger picture and understand the consequences your decisions have.
This will make you a bit more likeable and you will start to make friends who understand your flaws and ridicule you for them anyway (but hey, that’s what friendship in high school is all about).
You’re still going to be inappropriate and mix up social cues, but your better awareness of the world will make you see the fun side of your failings and, as it turns out, these quirks will become a large part of your personality and people will enjoy seeing your steadfast and silly determination making, what might have been humiliating in the past, become a hilarious anecdote that you can share on your blog later (oh yeah, you will also develop a blog and choose an awful shade of brown to be your trademark, but as I said you learn to embrace your shortcomings).
After school, things continue to get a lot better for you, which is bizarre considering that, after all the struggles you went through when moving house, you somehow manage to take part in and enjoy an exchange programme to study in Germany for a few months (something which you won’t shut up about for the rest of your life).
(Me with only a handful of the awesome people I met in Germany)
As I said up top, I’m writing to you today to give you some advice on how to make these better times come sooner and how to make the hard times less dark, but the answers that are already around you. In fact, one of them is probably right next to you reading this letter to you because, for some reason, you refuse to read anything, other than cereal boxes, for the first 14 years of your life.
What I am referring to is your family and friends; the ones who don’t write you off as just another naughty boy and instead spend hours, which accumulatively make up a lifetime, taking you to appointments, listening to your wordless woes and trying their best to make you happy.
In particular, pay attention to your mum. She is your life preserver through all this and the one who will fight your battles after people try to wash their hands of you for getting into far too many battles of your own. She loses countless hours of sleep because of you, both figuratively and literally – as, for years you are going to routinely wake her up at 4 in the morning to, yet again, rewatch Thomas the Tank Engine on VCR.
Also, be nice to your sister, as she is often going to be caught in the crossfire. I have to hand it to her, she does make the most out of a bad situation by running cake sales for autism charities and presenting autism awareness talks at her school. However, you’re still going to torture her by pushing toothbrushes under her door late at night (maybe I shouldn’t mention that she has a phobia of toothbrushes here, it will probably give you the wrong ideas far too early).
(Me, Lizzie and a rabbit which was soon to become a fox’s dinner)
If I had to share some knowledge with you though I would say 3 things:
1. Don’t avoid telling people about your autism as you grow up:
Throughout life, there are going to be times when you look at your autism as a drawback and, as such, you will try to hide a big piece part of who you are from some of the closest people to you. Don’t. Do. This.
If nothing, this is going to make people think that you don’t like them as, you will constantly cancel meet-ups without warning and, eventually, some may get tired of this and disappear. On the other hand, the people you do tell will always understand your seemingly erratic behaviour and, as such, they will either leave you to recharge your batteries when you politely decline an invitation out or they will drag you with them anyway – where you’ll no doubt have a great time.
Also, whilst we’re on this note, don’t try to hide your quirks and autistic traits from your friends as, when you do, you will quickly realise that, without them, you’re kind of dull.
2. Don’t be afraid to ask for help:
Towards the end of high school, throughout the whole of college and during the first few years of university, you are going to refuse to ask for help as, for some reason, you will have it in your head that getting help is a sign of weakness (an idea you will later go on to reject in a blog post).
This thought process honestly gets you nowhere and you are going to quickly regret your decisions to not get help, especially after you realise how much of a difference it makes – like in the final year of university when you go from scraping a pass due to misinterpreted assignment briefs to graduating with flying colours!
3. Don’t let your sister donate her Beanie Baby collection to the local charity shop:
Just trust me on this one, and especially take care of that limited-edition Princess Diana one!
(Also, try not to destroy your collection in anger. They might not become quite as valuable as Lizzie’s but they still become one of your first obsessions and you will miss them when they are gone)
I think that about sums up everything I have to say so, for now, I will let you get back to your 100th rewatch of the music video of Eiffell 65’s ‘I’m Blue’. I hope this letter finds you well and maybe, just maybe, we can have another catch-up in 20 years.
All the best,
James
Twitter @AutismRevised
Facebook AutisticandUnapologetic
Email AutsiticandUnapologetic@gmail.com
(ermmm… nope, I’m lost for words on this one)
