Latest news with #Asperger'ssyndrome
Daily Mirror
16 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
I'm A Celebrity star says 'I don't think I'd want to be here' as they open up on health
Darren Day has spoken out about his mental health and addiction battle, as he revealed that he was misdiagnosed with a number of different conditions before being told he had ADHD. Darren Day has opened up about the significant difference his ADHD diagnosis and subsequent treatment have made to his life, after years of battling with misdiagnoses. The West End actor, 56, who has candidly discussed his addiction and mental health challenges, shared his experience of being diagnosed on Good Morning Britain last Friday. Discussing the matter with Rob Rinder and Kate Garraway, he said: "I talk openly about it because when I do talk about it on social media, I get so many people asking me and I can point them in the right direction now." Day explained how he had been labelled with various conditions: "I was diagnosed with a lot of different qualifications, I call them." During the interview, he disclosed past diagnoses of borderline personality disorder, bipolar type 2, high scores for Asperger's syndrome and indications of autism. Admitting the difficulty with his condition, he remarked: "All of them, my head is wonky." Kate weighed in on his comment, noting: "You say wonky, but that is what neurodiversity is." When Kate queried whether his many conditions were perhaps inaccurately diagnosed, Darren acknowledged: "Perhaps, some people think that." He went on to reveal how desperate things had become: "In November last year I was taking about 17 pills a day, and I'm going to be level with you, I thought that if it wasn't for me being a dad and having a great partner and great family, and the devastation it would cause my loved ones, I don't think I'd want to be here anymore." He shared the extent of his frustration: "It got that bad, I was thinking, 'I'm taking 17 pills a day so I shouldn't be feeling like this'." Following advice to check for ADHD, Darren found that he scored a staggering 96 out of 100. In February, Darren started on ADHD medication and claims it revolutionised his life in just five days. "It changed my life, my head was quiet for the first time in 20 years, I'm focused," he revealed. The I'm A Celebrity star also noted that it had a significant effect on his stage presence and couldn't overstate the transformation the medication brought about. "I've probably had it forever, but then things happen in our lives, traumas and stuff, that make the symptoms worse, but I promise you, I know there's people that are sceptical about it, I probably was if I'm completely honest," he continued, emphasising the positive impact of his diagnosis and treatment. "I want to try and give people what I've got - a peace and quietness in my head that I've not experienced in so long, maybe ever." Darren also opened up about his battle with addiction and a 2018 relapse that led to Robbie Williams "saving" his life. "I was in a really bad place," he recounted, recalling a moment when he broke down while driving. After reaching out to the Take That star, who assured him, "Leave it all to me," Darren emotionally acknowledged: "Here I am today. I wouldn't be here without Rob." Reflecting on his journey in a recent chat with The Express, Darren spoke about how his ADHD meds have supported his sobriety. He commented: "I'm very strong in my sobriety now, and there's quiet in my head, there's less chaos. It makes sobriety easier. I don't feel the need to self-medicate. "Everything has changed. In last three months I've been in the best place I've been in for 25 years. I thank God every day I get up. I love going to work, I love being with my kids, I love speaking spending time with my partner Sophie – we live in Brentwood, Essex, now. "I feel like a weight has lifted, I'm in a good place and I'm really happy people still want to come and see me. I put everything into what I'm doing." Good Morning Britain airs weekdays from 6am on ITV1.
Telegraph
06-05-2025
- Health
- Telegraph
Chris Packham: People who call ADHD a fad are prejudiced
Chris Packham has claimed people who call attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) a 'fad' are 'prejudiced'. The naturalist and BBC presenter, 64, said progress for people being diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia had not been made in the same way it had for those with autism. He told Radio Times: 'There has been some vile and misplaced prejudice prominently voiced recently about ADHD, suggesting that it's a fad and has been wrongly or over-diagnosed. 'That very urgently needs countering in this time of divisive culture wars, with assaults on inclusivity and diversity.' Neurodiversity campaigner The Springwatch presenter, who was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, a form of autism, in his 40s, said he 'once hid my autistic traits' while he struggled with the then undiagnosed condition in his youth. He has now become a prominent neurodiversity campaigner, which often extends to discussions about ADHD and dyslexia. His comments came as a recent study revealed that the Covid lockdown fuelled a near-doubling in the number of prescriptions for drugs to treat ADHD. Prescriptions per 1,000 people in England rose from 25.17 in 2019-20 to 41.55 in 2023-24 as lockdown was found to have exacerbated symptoms of the disorder. ADHD symptoms exist on a spectrum of severity ranging from mild to severe and affect 2.6 million people in the UK, 694,000 of whom are children and 1.9 million adults. The symptoms depend on the individual, but in general, people with ADHD have trouble with attention, organisation, time management and self-control. Researchers suggested there was an increasing awareness of the disorder through social media platforms, such as TikTok and Instagram, which is likely to be encouraging more people to seek diagnosis and treatment. However, it is warned that 'misinformation on these platforms may lead to misconceptions about symptoms, diagnosis and treatment'. 'Positive and challenging impacts' In 2023, Packham released a two-part BBC Two series titled Inside Our Minds, which attempted to explain the autistic world to allistic (non-autistic) viewers. He said he was still thanked by strangers 'on an almost daily basis' for the series, with people saying it 'gave them a better understanding of themselves or one of their relatives or colleagues'. The 'logical next step', Packham added, was to apply that same storytelling format to other neurodiverse conditions. His two new documentaries, Inside Our ADHD Minds and Inside Our Dyslexic Minds, will be aired by the BBC later this month. Packham's stepdaughter, Megan, has dyslexia, meaning the presenter has 'experience of the positive and challenging impacts of that'. He added that 'thinking about ADHD is a bit like holding a misty mirror up to myself, because there is often an overlap between the traits of autism and ADHD'.
Time of India
01-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Terrifying for the guy, for me ...: Bill Gates daughter Phoebe Gates on her experience of bringing men home to her Dad
Microsoft founder Bill Gates ' daughter Phoebe Gates recently offered a glimpse into her personal life. On a podcast show Phoebe talked about her father's personality, including what it's like to introduce romantic interests to him. Speaking on the "Call Her Daddy" podcast, the 22-year-old shared candid anecdotes about her dad's socially awkward demeanour and how it impacts her dating the same podcast appearance, she also revealed that her father has Asperger's syndrome , a condition now considered part of the autism spectrum disorder (ASD). She described him as socially awkward. Phoebe Gates: "Terrifying for the Guy, For Me..." During the podcast Phoebe Gates shared her perspective on what it's like to bring men home to meet her father. She described the experience "terrifying for the guy" but "hilarious" for her. The host of the podcast, Alex Cooper inquired Phoebe Gates about her experiences introducing male partners to her responded that it was "terrifying for the guy" but "hilarious" for her because her father is "pretty socially awkward" and has said he has Asperger's. 'For the guy, terrifying. For me, it's hilarious because my dad's pretty socially awkward. Like he's said before, he has Asperger's. So, like to me, it's so funny,' said Phoebe. She explained that her father, who has previously acknowledged being on the autism spectrum, often leaves her dates feeling uneasy. Recalling a high school incident, Phoebe shared how her dad once drove her and her date to a school dance. During the 30-minute drive, Bill Gates insisted on listening to NPR and even called her date by the wrong name, leaving her mortified. Phoebe now views these interactions as a way to gauge her relationships. "Depending on how he reacts, that's how you know if he's gonna be a good guy or not," she explained, adding that her dad's quirks often serve as an unintentional test of character. Beyond her family's fame, Phoebe is carving her own identity. She recently co-founded Phia, an AI-powered shopping app , and is determined to establish herself outside her father's shadow. AI Masterclass for Students. Upskill Young Ones Today!– Join Now
The Guardian
25-04-2025
- General
- The Guardian
Why does RFK Jr want to put my family on an ‘autism registry'?
I always knew my parents operated on a different wavelength than most. For one, they are both exceptionally smart. My mother is a former mathematician, who studied the various levels of infinity as part of her master's thesis. My father is a computer programmer who, at 17 years old, was one of the youngest people to ever be able to communicate with ships in morse code. They met at a party for members of Mensa, a club for the highly intelligent. But their gifts have come with challenges. My dad struggles with eye contact and can become easily overwhelmed in social settings, where emotion and nuance can short-circuit his systems. My mother has difficulty with executive function, and finds it tough to stay neat and organized. Regulating their emotions and reading social cues don't come easily to either of them. My father was first diagnosed with what was then known as Asperger's syndrome in his 20s. My mother has never been officially diagnosed as autistic, but identifies as such. When I was a child desperately wanting to fit in with others, I found their neurodivergence to be embarrassing. I wanted what I thought other kids had: parents who got them to school on time, who didn't have unpredictable, emotional flare-ups or constantly messy homes. Now as an adult, living in a time when neurodivergence is more openly discussed and understood, I've come to see their quirks not as flaws but as unique features of who they are. I'll call my mom when I'm struggling across a tricky math problem, knowing she'll light up with excitement at the opportunity to assist me with her expertise. I love watching my dad pour himself into his ham radio community, where friendships are forged without the pressure of eye contact. That's why, when I first heard RFK Jr vow to the Trump administration to find the cause behind the so-called 'autism epidemic', describing it as a 'cataclysm', I got scared. Was the person in charge of the federal government's healthcare apparatus really describing my parents as victims of an illness that we, as a society, have let get out of control? Later that week, he doubled down, calling autism spectrum disorder a 'preventable disease' that 'tears families part', citing the growing rates of ASD among children: one in 31 kids in 2022, compared with one in 36 kids in 2020. 'These are kids who will never pay taxes. They'll never hold a job. They'll never play baseball. They'll never write a poem. They'll never go out on a date. Many of them will never use a toilet unassisted.' Autism is, in fact, being diagnosed more than ever before, but scientists largely attribute this to increased awareness and a broader diagnostic criteria for the disorder. 'When I started in this field in the late 60s, autism was a last resort diagnosis,' says Dr Catherine Lord, a clinical psychologist whose primary focus is ASD. 'It was primarily given to kids with intellectual disabilities.' It's also true that people in my generation have more autism diagnoses than our parents. But there are plenty of us out there who suspect our parents may have been on the spectrum, even though they were never formally evaluated. 'It's rare for a parent first to be diagnosed with autism, and then a child realizes they are also autistic,' Lord says. 'It's much more common for a parent to realize they're on the spectrum after their kid's been diagnosed.' RFK Jr's blanket description of 2% of the population fails to take into account the wide spectrum of symptoms that people with autism experience. Some have higher needs than others. Many are able to mask their symptoms. Some are non-verbal – about 30%, according to the National Institutes of Health. All deserve to live in a society where they are understood, recognized and supported – not categorized, as RFK Jr describes, as a 'tragic' aberration that needs to be snuffed out. The federal government says it's committing resources to finding the cause behind ASD (a condition that has been studied since the 1940s and is overwhelmingly attributed by scientists to genetics) and that it is starting an autism database to track the private medical information of numerous Americans. At the same time, it is also poised to cut funding for autism research and support. Slashes to the Department of Education and National Science Foundation mean less money for special needs kids and intervention programs. Reduced funding to the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration means autistic people, who are particularly vulnerable to mental illness, will have less access to mental health services. Meanwhile, there are concerns that Congress will cut Medicaid coverage, which would lead to less behavioral support for autistic people, especially children and low-income families. 'It just seems so contradictory,' Lord says. By saying autism is a 'preventable disease,' rather than a complex neurodevelopmental disorder, RFK further stigmatizes an already vulnerable population and threatens to set back a decades-long effort to bring ASD into public awareness and acceptance. Schools already struggle with how to incorporate autistic children into everyday learning, and few programs exist (let alone are publicly funded) specifically for neurodivergent kids. An infinitesimal percentage of workplaces recognize the unique needs of their neurodivergent employees, making it difficult for people with ASD to find and keep employment. Neither set of my grandparents understood their children were autistic, and so the support my parents received was limited. My mom's parents shrugged their shoulders and categorized her as weirdly obstinate. My dad's parents treated him like a prodigy, which, although a kinder approach, fostered a superiority complex and a host of anti-social behaviors, making it tough for him to find friends. As adults, both my parents struggled to hold down full-time employment at office jobs, presumably in part because their workplaces probably adhered to a rigid social compact and failed to recognize their unique needs. These days, my parents have learned to mask their autism to varying degrees. My father eventually taught himself how to sustain eye contact with others, and can now hold a conversation with minimal downward glances. They both, to a degree, have become more socially aware and work for themselves. So, no, autism did not ruin my family, as RFK Jr claims. If anything, their conditions have made me a more empathetic, understanding adult, which I believe makes me a better journalist, friend and daughter. But, I sometimes wonder: what would my parents' lives have been like if society had made more room for them and others like them? I suspect that in a less ableist world, they would have led happier childhoods. And, I think, so too would I. Deborah Bloom is a text and video journalist who covers breaking news and human interest stories about gender, culture, mental health and the environment
Yahoo
20-04-2025
- General
- Yahoo
A Furious Stranger Called Out My Son In An Airport Bathroom. What Happened Next Horrified Me.
As my daughter and I stepped out of our respective stalls in the airport bathroom, I saw my son standing in the corner waiting for us, having come in after he had used the men's room next door. He has a habit of eloping at airports, so I was relieved to see him. 'Love,' I told him. 'Thank you for coming in and waiting for us.' The three of us moved to the sink to wash our hands. That's when things got weird. My son has high-functioning autism, what used to be called Asperger's syndrome, now called autism spectrum disorder, level 1 support. When people look at him, they notice nothing different. When they hear him speak, they are often impressed at his verbal comprehension and articulation (indeed, his IQ is very high in this area). His challenges lay in perseverations (obsessions or ruminations), recognizing social cues, and having spatial and environmental awareness. He received his diagnosis at age 7, in March 2020, days before the COVID shutdowns. Suddenly every resource in our small town was unavailable. We started homeschooling and would continue it long after schools reopened. My son loved our home routine, probably because he got to see the family dog whenever he wanted. He's always had a special connection to animals (music too). He's a seasoned and easy traveler, having taken his first flight at 2 months old, which I'm thankful for. Still, traveling is not without stress. He tends to wander away at airports. Over the years I've had several moments of pure fear when I didn't immediately know where he was. One time, after landing and coming into the airport, he bolted for the bathroom without telling me. Another time he proceeded to try and leave the airport because he didn't want to wait in the TSA line. Over the years I've accepted that most of the time he lives in another world — his inner dimension. While it's rich and creative and weird and wonderful, there have been moments where I've begged him to live in our world more often, not for my convenience but for his safety. Since, on this day, we were in Los Angeles International Airport, one of the busiest airports in the world, I was on high alert. Because of his relatively young age (11), I didn't think it was strange that he was in the crowded women's bathroom with us. My son also has a fascination with sink and toilet holes. He studies the shape of them, talks about them, wants to see as many of them as he can, both in people's homes and in public places. It's always been his way. And, according to him, this particular sink hole in this bathroom at LAX had a unique shape — it was less round and more square than most sink holes. After retrieving his phone from his pocket, he took a photo of it. That's when an older woman — one I'd noticed had been watching us — snapped. She was washing her hands in the sink next to where my son was, and I saw her look over at him. She started yelling, 'This boy took a picture in the women's room!' She repeated this loudly for everyone to hear as she dried her hands, as she grabbed her luggage, as she followed us out the door. I felt a combination of embarrassment and anger at the scene she was making, trying to call attention to my son's odd but harmless behavior. She was still repeating it as we all walked out the door: 'He took a picture in the women's room!' Her posture was menacing and meant to be intimidating. We separated from her and moved to the side of the hallway to regroup. My son and daughter, not fully comprehending what was happening, stood close to me with their suitcases. Even though we were now a few yards away from her, I could still feel her eyes on us, particularly me. I could sense her judgment for allowing such behavior from my child. I could tell she was waiting for me to berate my son for taking the photo. What happened next was horrifying. I did exactly what she wanted me to. Against my gut feeling, which told me my son was innocent, against my understanding of his diagnosis, against my hard-won advocacy of him at school and with medical providers, against my purported assertiveness with strangers and others who may not be conscious of why he behaves the way he does, I scolded him for his actions. I asked him, not in a friendly way, why he chose to take a photo of the sink, even though I knew exactly why. I told him it was inappropriate and that he knew better, even when I knew it wasn't true, that he didn't know. I made sure the woman was within earshot. As I went on, my son looked stunned, confused and hurt. The worst part is that I love his innocence, his youthful quirkiness, his sweet naiveté that sometimes comes with autism. And here I was chipping away at that, all because a stranger assumed the worst of him. I was doing the opposite of what I've always done. The woman's gaze was gone. She had folded herself into the crowd and disappeared. My son, overwhelmed and teary with emotion, bolted toward our departing gate, which fortunately wasn't far. I took a breath, took my daughter's hand and followed my son to the gate. It was there, in our seats waiting for the boarding call, that I apologized. I cried. Never in all of motherhood had I felt so low. I told him I was aghast at my behavior, that I should have stood up for him, that I knew what he had done was innocent. I asked for forgiveness. I told him to take his time. I am perpetually grateful that I got it. An hour later in the air, I was still brooding, replaying the scene over and over in my head. I found myself looking for the woman, imagining, relishing in what I'd say to her in a raised voice: that she had no right to yell at us, to shame us, to treat my son as though he was a pedophile. That she had been bullying an autistic boy. See that boy over there?Do you know he has autism? You should be ashamed of yourself. That last thought gave me pause. Would I really disclose his diagnosis? To what end? Is it her business? Would it have made a difference? Would I be hoping to better explain his behavior or to make her feel bad? And as my children grow older (my daughter also has autism), I find myself regarding their privacy more, wanting to protect them. Because I constantly wonder if the world will be too much for their sensitive souls. Or perhaps they will be too much for the world. The diagnosis of 'autism' first appeared in 1980 in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, the bible for all things psychological, under the category of Pervasive Developmental Disorders. Before then, it was considered to be part of schizophrenia. In 1987, the DSM was revised (as it is every five to seven years), and the criteria for the diagnosis was broadened to include more mild symptoms of autism. That, coupled with improved early screening tools and an increased awareness, have led to a perception of a significant rise in the disorder, though it's actually that we've gotten better at recognizing it. In the latest DSM, it is listed as autism spectrum disorder, typically followed by the level of support needed (1 through 3). My children are both level 1, which include accommodations such as extra time to transition between activities, managing perseverations and inflexibility in routine, and navigating pervasive and narrow interests (such as sink holes). In the end, I arrived at the conclusion that no, I would choose not to disclose his diagnosis to this angry stranger. She didn't deserve to know. She didn't deserve an explanation. In a different setting, where emotions weren't so charged, I might have a different answer. With my son's blessing, I wrote this essay to give voice to the fine line that parents of children with autism walk, the line between advocating for our kids and guarding their privacy, the line between explaining and keeping quiet, the line between supporting a need and excusing behavior. It's within these nuances where we live day by day, sometimes hour by hour. Sometimes I don't get the answer right, but all answers come from a place of care and love. For people who may not have or even know children like mine, I wrote this to encourage more empathy in the world. These days it is too easy to rush to conclusions about a child's behavior, judge another's parenting and shame what is not acceptable to us. I encourage everyone to lean into curiosity and compassion as much as possible, know that we are doing the best job we can, and that our children are amazing people. As my daughter and I stepped out of our respective stalls in the airport bathroom, I saw my son standing in the corner waiting for us, and I was so proud of him. Going forward, I refuse to feel anything else about him — and I'll make sure he and everyone else know it. Lorna Rose is a Pacific Northwest writer and speaker. Her writing has been recognized by Pacific Northwest Writers Association and the Oregon Poetry Association, and has appeared in About Place Journal, Jellyfish Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, Writers Resist, and elsewhere. Previously she has written about raising children with autism for Scary Mommy and Motherwell. Currently an MFA candidate at Augsburg University, Lorna is at work on a memoir about going from L.A. party girl to trail worker in rural Alaska. When not wrangling her two children, she fantasizes about being interviewed on NPR's 'Fresh Air.' You can find more about her at Do you have a compelling personal story you'd like to see published on HuffPost? 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