u/Exitmaus

Do you have a favorite animal? If not, will you allow me to persuade you with a series of facts worthy of your consideration? This is a thread where we will all attempt to convince each other of the merits of our own viewpoint.

So what animals do you love and why? What are your all-time most awesome facts about them?

I’ll go first!

Sperm whales are the largest toothed predator in the world, with each tooth weighing about 2lbs.

A full third of their body weight is the spermaceti organ, which is made up of a waxy substance and whose full purpose remains mysterious to scientists.

They produce the loudest sound of any animal on earth at 230 decibels, twice as loud as a jet engine and enough to rupture your eardrums.

They sleep vertically and no one is quite sure why.

They have complex social communication called a coda. Baby sperm whales “babble” like human babies and eventually learn the family coda.

They use certain patterns of coda to identify themselves and others, which means they each have a name (!!!) like we do.

They dive as deep as 10,000 feet to hunt colossal squid in total darkness.

In conclusion, the sperm whale is the modern day T-Rex. Thank you for your attention to this matter and Happy Thursday! 🙂

I’m a newly diagnosed adult at 41, but unlike some folks here, my journey of discovery was relatively quick, and in hindsight inevitable.

I was flagged for a special education assessment when I was six years old. They took months to come to a conclusion, eventually landing on an auditory processing disorder and a sensory condition. The assessor emphasized that I was a highly unusual case, with very high aptitude but also acute limitations and frankly they weren’t sure what to make of me. They gave me an IEP/504 plan, and over the years my mother would repeat back to me the pronouncement she received at the end of that assessment.

“His entire life he’s going to be a square peg in a world of round holes.”

School was a series of challenges (most awkward, many painful), but I excelled academically. I used the assessor’s words as motivation. I was one of one. I was a square peg and no one else was like me. I was never meant to fit in, I figured. That mentality pushed me toward educational and professional achievement. From a distance, things looked fine, but inside I was anxious, isolated and at times quite lonely. There was an imperceptibly thin pane of glass between me and the rest of the world. They could see me, and maybe they didn’t even notice the glass. It’s a well-worn cliche, but it’s the only way I know to say it.

About a year ago my wife asked me if I thought I was autistic. I didn’t take it well. Not that I knew anything about autism, but I was certain it didn’t include me. This didn’t come from malice but rather from profound ignorance. Also my wife is not autistic (though she is uniquely compassionate and perceptive), and we make an amazing team. I’m a great father and husband, I just need help sometimes like with routine changes, like when the car needs to be taken for an oil change and also she does the shopping at Costco for us because I just can’t with that place 😭). Anyway, I finally worked up the courage to get a formal assessment.

I had read an article about how to prepare for an assessment, but I didn’t feel prepared for the emotional revelation that comes with it. It was devastating. All the signs were there. No one had noticed, or at least no one had said anything. I didn’t sleep well and lost much of my appetite for a few days. I did my assessment over two weeks (I’ll save the review for a later time), but the end result was not terribly surprising given the evidence. I was given a diagnosis of ASD Level 1.

At the end of the process, the psychologist said something that I hope I to remember for the rest of my life. She referenced back to my original assessment, but with a surprising twist. She said “I think there are other square pegs out there waiting for you.”

I nodded, as usual not picking up on the implication. She later clarified that she meant the autistic community. Of course! For the first few hours, I was filled with happiness and validation that are difficult to put to words, but soon overtaken by a resounding grief. Why had no one told me? Why had I needed to spend half my life thinking I was alone?

To my fellow square pegs, I want to tell you this: Maybe you’re doing well or maybe you’re struggling. But you are precious and I am filled with such pride as I read stories of small victories and grace in struggles. I’ve been searching for you my entire life, I just didn’t know where to look. You are a blessing and it means so much to me that you exist at all. And I just hope I have the opportunity to make up for all this lost time.

I’m so happy to meet you all! My name is Exitmaus. My special interest (going on 30 years now) is Earthbound. I am writing a fantasy mystery-triller novel whose charming and effervescent protagonist (I have now come to understand) has been unintentionally written not just with autism, but with my specific signature of autism. I have a wife and daughter. I have synesthesia too. I am told I talk at people, not with them but I am trying to get better with that. I can’t go into Costco without risking a melting down (quite a story, and also the inciting incident of my first trip to therapy) and I love Scrubs (the only TV comedy from my teen years without a laugh track, and thus the only show that didn’t make me feel self conscious for not getting a joke).

I’m a newly diagnosed adult at 41, but unlike some folks here, my journey of discovery was relatively quick, and in hindsight inevitable.

I was flagged for a special education assessment when I was six years old. They took months to come to a conclusion, eventually landing on an auditory processing disorder and a sensory condition. The assessor emphasized that I was a highly unusual case, with very high aptitude but also acute limitations and frankly they weren’t sure what to make of me. They gave me an IEP/504 plan, and over the years my mother would repeat back to me the pronouncement she received at the end of that assessment.

“His entire life he’s going to be a square peg in a world of round holes.”

School was a series of challenges (most awkward, many painful), but I excelled academically. I used the assessor’s words as motivation. I was one of one. I was a square peg and no one else was like me. I was never meant to fit in, I figured. That mentality pushed me toward educational and professional achievement. From a distance, things looked fine, but inside I was anxious, isolated and at times quite lonely. There was an imperceptibly thin pane of glass between me and the rest of the world. They could see me, and maybe they didn’t even notice the glass. It’s a well-worn cliche, but it’s the only way I know to say it.

About a year ago my wife asked me if I thought I was autistic. I didn’t take it well. Not that I knew anything about autism, but I was certain it didn’t include me. This didn’t come from malice but rather from profound ignorance. Also my wife is not autistic (though she is uniquely compassionate and perceptive), and we make an amazing team. I’m a great father and husband, I just need help sometimes like with routine changes, like when the car needs to be taken for an oil change and also she does the shopping at Costco for us because I just can’t with that place 😭). Anyway, I finally worked up the courage to get a formal assessment.

I had read an article about how to prepare for an assessment, but I didn’t feel prepared for the emotional revelation that comes with it. It was devastating. All the signs were there. No one had noticed, or at least no one had said anything. I didn’t sleep well and lost much of my appetite for a few days. I did my assessment over two weeks (I’ll save the review for a later time), but the end result was not terribly surprising given the evidence. I was given a diagnosis of ASD Level 1.

At the end of the process, the psychologist said something that I hope I to remember for the rest of my life. She referenced back to my original assessment, but with a surprising twist. She said “I think there are other square pegs out there waiting for you.”

I nodded, as usual not picking up on the implication. She later clarified that she meant the autistic community. Of course! For the first few hours, I was filled with happiness and validation that are difficult to put to words, but soon overtaken by a resounding grief. Why had no one told me? Why had I needed to spend half my life thinking I was alone?

To my fellow square pegs, I want to tell you this: Maybe you’re doing well or maybe you’re struggling. But you are precious and I am filled with such pride as I read stories of small victories and grace in struggles. I’ve been searching for you my entire life, I just didn’t know where to look. You are a blessing and it means so much to me that you exist at all. And I just hope I have the opportunity to make up for all this lost time.

I’m so happy to meet you all! My name is Exitmaus. My special interest (going on 30 years now) is Earthbound. I am writing a fantasy mystery-triller novel whose charming and effervescent protagonist (I have now come to understand) has been unintentionally written not just with autism, but with my specific signature of autism. I have a wife and daughter. I have synesthesia too. I am told I talk at people, not with them but I am trying to get better with that. I can’t go into Costco without risking a melting down (quite a story, and also the inciting incident of my first trip to therapy) and I love Scrubs (the only TV comedy from my teen years without a laugh track, and thus the only show that didn’t make me feel self conscious for not getting a joke).