Autism: The Beginning

Hi, my name is Ewan, and I am an autistic man.

Me once again not knowing how to model for a photo

It feels weird to write that online. I mean, I have told people, and people know about my autism, but online it’s a different story. I can be whoever I want to be online. For those who don’t know, for my honours project at uni, I am working on something very close to me, how people with autism relate to video games compared to non-autistic people. I figured I might as well start reflecting on my own experiences with autism and have the means to document my process in creating the project, no matter how good or bad that may turn out. I hope to write something about once a week, although given this is me and I’m working on an honours project, expect a missed week here and there.

My diagnosis came at around age 4, surprisingly young, given I’ve heard about people not getting a diagnosis until later in life. This was thanks to my nursery teacher, who had conveniently completed a course on autistic children sometime beforehand. Had they not done that or given my parents the heads up, I might still be wondering what made me so different. She did change my life, for better or for worse.

So then school comes along, and I won’t bore you with the same old I was bullied for being different story that most people go through. But I will say that I never understood why I was being bullied. I knew I was definitely different, but I think I never understood why. For the longest time, I was kind of ashamed of it. How dare I be born different? Why can’t I fit in like the other kids on the playground? Why does that kid not want to play football and only want to play Mario on his DS? Was it because of my autism? No, because they didn’t know (or at least I thought they didn’t at the time.) Was it because they liked seeing me cry every time it happened? Probably, kids can be mean. To this day, I don’t think I will get it. The only logical conclusion I can conclude is “Kids are mean.” Which sucks. They aren’t mean. They didn’t understand. I didn’t understand.

The one standout moment I remember was my Primary 7 teacher, after another meltdown over something I can’t even remember, gathered the class around and announced to them all. “You should all be ashamed of yourself. Ewan has autism. He doesn’t understand how all of this works.” Well, whatever I was upset about was instantly forgotten and turned into a bit of anger. How dare he do that? Why did he do that? How will the bullies use this against me? The next day he took me aside and apologised. He must have gotten an earful from my mum that day. Looking back on it, however, I’m glad he did do it. Granted, I wouldn’t have done it the way he did, but that experience eventually taught me not to be ashamed of who I am. So what does anyone else think? I’m living my best life and should be proud of myself.

Crash Bandicoot 3: Warped (Naughty Dog, 1998)

Well, while I wasn’t thinking of why I wasn’t worth it, I turned to the one thing that was always there: video games. Even in school, I was waiting to go home and play games. My primary school had a room with an SNES in it, and back in Primary 5, there was a PS1 with Crash Bandicoot 3 on it, so you bet I abused that when I could. And when I got home, oh boy, I could team up with Sonic and the gang, make him fight Pikachu, or solve some puzzles with Professor Layton. To me, they were never just games. They were escapes from reality. I’d spend hours on them, breaking a high score, beating that one level and improving my times. I like to think I got pretty good at certain ones. I had my moments with them (I will forever hate Alex Kidd because I could never beat him at Tennis), but I’ll never forget those moments of bliss away from the harsh realities of life.

Shovel Knight (Yatch Club Games, 2014)

I still remember the game that made me realise I wanted to make games. Shovel Knight. I finally got to play that when it was released on 3DS in 2014. I still go back to it now and then and get reminded of what a perfect game that is. I studied that game hard, listened to the soundtrack and watched countless videos dissecting the game design and interviews with the developers. It even became the first game I ever completed 100% (which is a very rare feat if you know me.) I was about 14 when I first played it, and it still resonates so much with me. If this is what autistic people get when they have obsessions, Shovel Knight was that for me. I’m still short of those magnetic plushies they made.

But after all that, I sit here nearly a decade later, in my last semester of university, doing the course I’ve been dreaming of completing. It’s been a long and hard road, with moments where I thought I’d never make it. But honestly, I wouldn’t change a moment. I’m looking at that kid who thought he’d amount to nothing, with barely a friend in the world, sitting in the playground wandering around Hearthorne City, waiting for people to trade Pokemon with, and I think, “It will be ok.”

Anyway, this has been a very rambly post about a brief look into my life with autism. Who knows what I will write about next? Maybe some details about the honours project, or a bit about my obsessions, or what causes me to melt down. I hope to keep writing something, so please feel free to leave comments or suggest topic ideas. I would love to know your experiences with gaming, particularly if you are also on the spectrum.