I’m autistic.
It’s a label I didn’t know applied for me for a very long time. But one I embraced when – following a spate of mental health issues and a lifelong curiosity about why certain thoughts, feelings and actions and seemed different in my experiences compared to how others did them or described them – I sought a diagnosis… and got one in 2021.
It sure was a better term then some of the other labels applied to me from others who had no clue as to what was going on with me internally: my whirlwind of endless, spaghetti-thread, overlapping thought processes whirring around in my brain; the constant burning sensations caused by sudden, out-of-nowhere on-rushes of adrenaline and anxiety; an inability to latch on to any single conversation in a crowded room because I could hear every one of them at the same time.
And so on.
When it was confirmed, it was the first time my entire life, in context, made sense.
I devoured (not literally) books on the subject: mainly memoirs by autistic authors, and for the first time discovered narrators who described accurately my lived experiences; I discovered that sometimes rather than masking my true feelings and unquestionably finding myself deteriorating under working or personal conditions that were sucking all my energy away, it really was OK for me to ask for the music to be turned down, or for the lights to be dimmed. Or to simply not go to that event if I knew attending would do more emotional and physical harm than good.
It also meant I embraced my love of board games, which I’d mainly discarded for years, erroneously believing that it was a childish pursuit.
‘If no one around you is taking part in the pastime you love, it’s harder to get involved in it’
Autistic individuals can be monotropic with our passions, often to the point of obsession – with all the net positives and negatives that such a condition of hyperfocus can entail.
As such, our special interests are often particularly niche and sometimes to the detriment of friendships, if you haven’t found your tribe – while anyone, neurotypical or otherwise, can easily bond over hobbies that are seen as age-appropriate (running, fine dining, golf, whatever floats your boat, but pastimes that ‘fit in’ more with what others around you are enjoying) it’s harder if you don’t even know much about a scene that actually exists out there.
If no one around you is taking part in the pastime you love, it’s harder to get involved in it.
Previously, I’d written in Senet about why tabletop games not just complement my wellbeing, but feels essential to it, helping meet my communicative and sensory needs – well, in the right circumstances. But certainly getting round the table means I feel more on an equal footing with others – everyone in a room focused on the same goal means there’s less opportunity for sensory-hell background distractions, or confusing cross-chat that untethers me from the moment.
In particular, during lockdown, embracing this interest rather than leaving it behind to my youth gave both me and my daughter a shared hobby and passion that we could develop while we were locked away from other friends and family.
That article can be read below.
So that’s why I love board games as an autistic adult ticked off. This month I’ve got to focus on the ‘what/which’ aspect. Thanks to Tabletop Gaming magazine, I’ve explored how autistic people can make the gaming experience easier – and how non-autistic gamers, publishers and producers can improve access, whether that be to enjoy as a hobby, or to open doors as a professional in the industry.
The articles goes into which playing conditions as an autistic gamer help benefit me? Which will lead to sensory overload and/or meltdown? what accommodations can be made so that autistic gamers can really bring the relaxed and happy version of themselves self to the table?
Obviously, all autistic people are different, so needs will be different for each individual – a point made clear by Mansions of Madness, Legacy of Dragonholt and Artisans of Splendent Vale designer Nikki Valens, who provided some truly inspirational and thought-provoking insight when I spoke to them for the article.
The feature is in the January 2024 edition of Tabletop Gaming magazine and can also be found on Readly.
Review round-up
This week, me and the kid have mostly been playing…
Lost Valley of the Dinosaurs
Going slightly over the top in my praise for the 1980s nostalgia fest – but I can’t resist a game with a volcano.
Read the full review
Pyramid of Pengqueen
As with Lost Valley of the Dinosaurs, more tomb-robbing. This time with penguins in this hidden-movement magnetic board game.
Read the full review
Mario Kart Wii Grand Prix Race Pinball
A Nintendo classic in ball-bearing, analogue form.