不惑之年的意外之“禮”

Watching my mother’s sleeping body 1）strapped to a hospital bed， carried downstairs and put into an ambulance， was like watching a silent movie in slow motion. My mind tried to make sense of the situation. Why were they taking her away？ My father was convinced she was “mental” and had signed her into a psychiatric institution. My mother had always been different. She was socially awkward， had no friends， and didn’t like to be touched or hugged. Years later， comments my father made about her unfeminine ways would finally make sense to me.

After three days we were allowed to visit. A 1980s UK psychiatric ward is not something any 14-year-old should experience. It was incredibly frightening and sad. Mum was happy to see us. “I have done everything they asked of me， and I can come home now！” she exclaimed. I’ll never forget her face when they refused. Her mistake was a huge meltdown. She was dragged away， drugged， and her true spirit was gone forever.

Over the next 15 years， she was permanently drugged as they tried to find a combination that worked. One such combination made her psychotic and she jumped from the roof. She became lost in her own world after 18 sessions of 2）shock therapy. Eventually， her life ended tragically when they gave her a toxic combination of medication. She was finally gone from the tormented world of institutions， and I grew up with an enormous fear of mental health organisations and professionals， and that I could also have schizophrenia， 3）manic depression and 4）paranoia （as they misdiagnosed my mother）.

Throughout my life， I struggled to fit in. Social situations overwhelmed me， and making eye contact was painful. I was labelled as stuckup， but the reality was that I just had no idea how to carry a conversation. I didn’t understand the world， and the fear of being locked away constantly made me fearful.

In the mid-1990s， I met Paul， who is now my partner. He understood me （and vice versa）. Years later， an advertisement about Tourette’s made me wonder whether there was something different about us. Modern technology meant that it was now much easier to search for such things， and I soon realised Paul had a form of autism， and a lot of the symptoms were ringing bells with me.

The word autism had previously brought to mind images of a non-verbal person flapping hands and rocking in the corner， shut off from the world. I never realised that the Autism Spectrum could be so diverse. Days of researching the internet， reading books from the library， and even watching a movie called 5）Mozart and the Whale about a couple with Asperger’s， was an emotional 6）rollercoaster for both of us.

Paul collapsed in the middle of cooking dinner one night. His legs went weak from the sheer enormity of it all. In some ways it was like going through the five stages of grief： disbelief， grief， anger， despair and acceptance. We both went to see a psychologist. Paul was quickly diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome， however I was initially misdiagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. My fears were ignited； I was going to end up in an institution for the rest of my life. I left the office in despair. I didn’t know then that women and girls with autism or Asperger’s are often misdiagnosed with bipolar or a personality disorder. As time went on Paul flourished， finally able to understand himself， but I felt doomed. I could not make the connection to my misdiagnosis of bipolar.

Six months later， we saw a new 7）GP. She quickly confirmed I did not have bipolar. She watch the odd interactions between Paul and I， and sent me to a psychiatrist. I was videoed， filled out questionnaires， wrote an essay about my childhood， and completed reading and tracking tests which showed I had a learning difficulty despite having an IQ over 150. My final diagnosis was Asperger’s and 8）ADHD.

At the time of testing， it was explained that my Asperger’s was “different”， however now a female profile of Asperger’s is emerging. A new diagnostic tool designed by Professor 9）Tony Attwood has improved the diagnostic process， sparing girls and women from damage caused by misdiagnosis. Finally I also had acceptance in my life. We both now understand who we are， which gives us personal empowerment. We no longer listen to naysayers. More importantly， we now have a direction and a purpose to our different， but no less important， lives.

Barb and Paul are embarking on a year-long motorcycle ride around Australia to film a new documentary， Autism All Grown Up， which will investigate the difficulties faced by adults on the spectrum.

目睹母親熟睡的身體被綁在擔架上抬下樓，并被放進一輛救護車里，我感覺就像在看一部慢動作的無聲電影。我試圖搞清狀況。為什么他們要把她帶走呢？我的父親堅信母親“瘋了”，并將她托付給了一家精神病院。我的母親一直都與眾不同。她不善交際，沒有朋友，也不喜歡被觸碰或是擁抱。多年以后，我終于懂得了父親對于母親不夠女人的評價。

三天之后，我們被允許探訪。二十世紀八十年代的英國精神科病房并非一個14歲的孩子該體驗的地方，那里令我極度害怕和沮喪。母親見到我們很開心。“我做了他們要求我做的一切，現在我可以回家了！”她大聲喊道。我永遠都忘不了母親被拒絕時的神情。她的錯誤便是大鬧了一場。她被拖走、灌藥，她真正的精神也一去不復返了。

之后的15年里，母親一直都在吃藥，因為醫生試圖找到一種有效的藥物組合。其中一種組合使得母親精神錯亂并從樓頂跳下。在經歷了18期的休克療法之后，母親迷失在了自己的世界當中。最終，在服用了醫生給她的一種毒性藥物組合之后，母親的生命悲劇收場。她終于得以從精神病院的折磨中解脫，而我則懷著對心理健康組織及專家們的深深恐懼逐漸長大，而且我害怕自己也會患有精神分裂癥、躁郁癥或是妄想癥（就像他們誤診了我的母親一樣）。

我這一輩子都在努力融入社會。社交場合讓我不知所措，而眼神交流則令人痛苦。我被貼上“高傲自大”的標簽，但事實是我只是不知道如何與人交談。……