I know how hard it must be. My family just didn’t know what to do with me. Worse I also have prosopagnosia, my mother was always mortified I didn’t recognize people right away. I can remember one incident where my mom told me one of my dad’s lifelong employees was going to pick me up from school. I cried almost all day because I was afraid I would walk outside and some crazy person would flag me into his car and I wouldn’t know any better.
I cried a lot back then. Teachers not understanding me, my family not knowing what to make of everything I said. Yet they would brag about my art and other things of that nature. They would say “Yes she is so quiet, she plays by herself in her room creating clothes and ideas.” Then they would call me out so I could meet whomever was getting this tripe and then they would quickly whisk me away back to my room before I pointed out a hairy mole or whatnot.
And they wondered why I liked playing by myself
And my mom took my inability to let her in my personal space to hug or hold me.as an afront.
I know its horrible for the family, but my confusion was a minute by minute trial.
Even at almost 66, I still do sing songy recitations over and over or repetitive movements because these things comfort me and allow me to concentrate. But it makes others very uncomfortable, So I almost never leave my studio.
It is people like @DollyPardon and @MaryJane that have made me feel welcome and included, pretty much as they do with everyone. Such an honor to have them in my little part of the world.