This is the hardest thing I have ever written. I’ve put off doing this for weeks because the story I have to tell is awful, and it’s mine. I suppose I don’t have to tell anyone, I can hold all my truths under cover. The problem is that when I come up to something I really don’t want to do, I typically make myself do it. I’ve always done it and I only recently learned why.

It’s called Exposure Response Prevention (E.R.P.) and it is one way of helping people with autism cope with intolerable people or situations in small doses so they can better manage their day to day lives. I know that because I learned that I am on the autism spectrum. It would be called High Functioning Autism if I had gotten an Aspergers diagnosis as a child. I prefer the term ‘discrete autism’ and the discrete nature of my autism is why I never got a diagnosis.

So what? I’ve lived with it for 38 years so I’m fine right?

In a way, I am fine. In another way, I’m actually better than ever. I finally understand why I never made sense to other people. I understand why I had to tie myself in knots to get through a conversation. I understand why I had to punch myself in the head to stop myself from getting too upset. I understand myself in a way that I never thought possible. I haven’t decided yet if I want to obtain a diagnosis. On the one hand it would be nice to have a piece of paper that I could point to… documentation… proof. On the other hand I do not need to prove myself to anyone.

Learning about ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) has been really liberating. It is actually super useful to have an acronym for the weird shit that I do. Nothing hard to write about there. I’m autistic, get over it.

One of the things I’ve been doing is looking back at my memories and adding the filter of autism. That’s where things get dark. If you prefer your blogs to be horror free STOP READING NOW!!!!!

So I was thinking about one of the times I got in trouble for knowing too much about blowjobs. I had the thought “I wonder who’s dick I had to suck” and literally fell over as decades of repressed memories came flooding back. I was the victim of repeated sexual abuse from about ages 4-8 at the hands of a man who my mother trusted to watch me. I don’t remember a lot of details exactly, just flashes of things. Sounds, sights, feelings. The body remembers. If ever you doubt, please believe me, the body remembers. It’s awful.

I’m still unpacking this knowledge. Still trying to understand myself as a survivor of child rape. In a lot of ways it is useful, it fills some more gaps so that combined with the ASD I can finally start learning not to hate myself. It hasn’t been easy, and it won’t get any easier. I’m hoping to stop feeling like there’s a shot in my mouth someday soon. I think writing about it is a good step forward. Obviously I’ll be getting lot’s of therapy too, but then what?

I need to figure out what sort of man I am, I have a blank slate. It’s pretty daunting. Which brings me to my beloved Toronto Maple Leafs. I have long believed that the better we all feel about ourselves, the better the Leafs will play. I created this blog as a way of feeling good about the Leafs, win or lose. When Coach Babcock got fired, and with all the stuff that came out afterwards, I was so shocked I delayed writing about it so I could gather my thoughts. When Coach Keefe started off so hot I was over the moon, but somehow couldn’t bring myself to write anything. Something was wrong.

Something has been wrong, with me, my entire life. I have started the process of getting better, sharing is part of that process. I don’t know what the future holds for this blog, but it damn well better include a Stanley Cup. 

#iBLeaf #LeafsForever #GoLeafsGo