Not so much about what I CAN do (though I've had to prove myself a few times, yes), but more about what I can't. They don't seem to realize that my absolute terror when it comes to crowds of people or loud noises coming from places I can't see is not something that I can control, and that my being socially clueless around people my age and coming off as unsociable is NOT a choice, but rather a loss in translation and, after many years of trying to fit in, a despair on my part about ever feeling like I belong. It's not as bad as it used to be, like I don't get forced to eat things that make me feel sick anymore, but no matter how vividly or specifically I describe my perceptions and frustrations to them, they still don't get it and think that it's just me "trying" to be different. Very annoying. >>
Also forgot about Dad: probably not a very good teacher about emotions, not very good at developing emotions in two sons, did not provide necessary psychological treatment for them in 1990 when it seemed necessary, seemed unconcerned about their trials and tribulations (more concerned to get them through college and rid of them).
Having let me go back to college without psychological treatment for active depression, I might have been 20 years old, but that is still conceptually neglect, and there wasn't anything I could have done about it without his help. And then complain about my grades?
When aircraft carriers like the Saratoga were damaged in World War II, they were taken home for repairs.
I don't suppose I would have gone off to high school a few years earlier with a broken arm untreated.
Who is the parent, or who has the resources and the insurance?
Who is the young adult and who needs help?
The more I read about "emotional literacy"...... I wonder if I had learned EL at home, maybe I would not have been confused or wishful thinking when the first attractive woman from among my peers decided that I needed to stop studying so hard, shutting people out (unhealthy), and having a misconception about what Christianity was about.
I can't say anything about my parents as I was diagnoised as an adult, but my daughter was in the car with me when we heard the mom of an teenage aspie boy talking on the radio. The woman decided which CDs her son could or couldn't listen to because she didn't feel he choose them for himself. My daughter was being assessed at the time (she's NT) and she just freaked out.
My parents were generally great. There was the odd issue, but compared to the horror stories I've read across the forums they were nothing. They accepted me as me - and that's the way it should be in a truly loving household.
Same here. My parents accept me for who I am, as well.