Changeling: The Ongoing Journey of an Aspie: Exhaustion

This week's post is a topic that hits very close to home for me, as it has only recently come to my attention: Executive Function. This is a very difficult subject for a lot of people on the spectrum, especially women, as it turns out, because issues with executive function are perhaps the least "glamorous" part of being autistic. For many of us, it is a source of shame, myself included, because these seem the simplest and most commonplace of human functions. So why do we have so much trouble with them?

What is Executive Function?

In brief, executive function is the administrative assistant part of your brain. It regulates organization, memory, and even emotions to some degree, with a little bit of drive to get things done. Executive function is the part that makes sure you get up on time, groom yourself, complete tasks in a timely fashion, don't have wild emotional swings, and all around stay motivated and productive.

What Does It Have To Do With Autism?

A lot, in point of fact. Diagnostic criteria lists impaired executive functions as one of the markers of someone on the spectrum. How this manifests in each individual may be vague, but the difficulty it causes for Autists (yet another moniker for someone on the spectrum) is no less real.

I've been an autistic feminist since birth. Sounds a bit hyperbolic, doesn't it? After all, one can't make decisions about their philosophical ideologies as an infant, and you'd be right to be skeptical of anything said by anyone who really believed they had. No, what I mean is that I was part of a feminist household. My mother is a feminist, and she raised me with the ethics and philosophies of feminism. Long before I knew what philosophy was, or that feminism had a political presence, I believed that everyone is, and should be perceived as, equal, despite any differences, real or imagined. Today, I proudly state myself to be a feminist.

Likewise, while I didn't know growing up that I am autistic, I was already expressing myself as an autistic person. I tended to be tomboyish, not in a sports way, but in a climbing trees and collecting rocks kind of way. I generally disliked wearing skirts and dresses, preferring comfortable pants and overalls which had pockets to put random weird shit into that I found on the ground. I was fascinated by science, especially astronomy. I had numerous special interests. I had food sensitivities that sometimes resulted in dramatic scenes (I recall an incident with a macaroni and bean salad). I had a lisp, which I viciously corrected on my own. I became so stressed in middle school, that I got ulcers, and generally suffered from other stomach issues. I was rather solitary. I didn't have a lot of friends. And I had the distinct sense that I was different. The list goes on. But I had no idea that some of the things I experienced could turn out to be a link between autism and feminism.