Thinking in Pictures

This guest post is by Miles DeMaria, a young man with autism who attends Penn State University. Miles is applying for the Spring 2023 Making a Difference Autism Scholarship via the nonprofit KFM Making a Difference started by me, Kerry Magro. I was nonverbal till 2.5 and diagnosed with autism at 4, and you can read more about my organization here. Autistics on Autism: Stories You Need to Hear About What Helped Them While Growing Up and Pursuing Their Dreams, our nonprofit’s new book, was released on March 29, 2022, on Amazon here for our community to enjoy featuring the stories of 100 autistic adults.

Hello! My name is Miles DeMaria, I am 17 years old, and I am on the autism spectrum. I grew up as a child actor, and I spent a lot of my time in New York for auditions. I play bass, guitar, drums, I sing, and on top of all that I make my own music.
About a couple months ago, I was describing my thought process to a friend, and I explained that I “think in pictures.” I came up with this in the moment, and I thought it was my own idea. A little bit later, I looked the concept up, and apparently, it’s a universal experience for people on the spectrum. This was the most comforting thing I have ever experienced. Knowing I’m not alone in this concept that I thought I made up, was the most groundbreaking discovery I have made while trying to understand my own autism. I’m terrible at vocalizing my thoughts. If I’m in a disagreement or a debate, or even simply trying to explain something, I get so exhausted because I’m using my entire brain power just to captivate a single thought. If I feel a certain way, I’ll think of every possibility surrounding that topic. I know why I feel something, but I have no idea how to explain it.

Having autism is like having two brains. One that is miles ahead and one that is miles behind. I describe it the same way to every person I meet. If given the choice, I wouldn’t choose not to be autistic, because it makes me who I am. But it does get tiring. Sometimes I feel like my head is racing so fast I won’t be able to catch up with my own thoughts, but occasionally the opposite is true. I often feel like my body is separated from my mind. I have strange internal battles with myself that only I can see. The thing is, it gives me a sense of pride being able to still accomplish my goals even though I think differently than the average person.

I used to loathe the feeling of being odd, or out of place. It was revolting. I always had to do what was socially acceptable or else I would begin to internally panic. I’d rather be in pain than embarrass myself in public. The world felt like a constant repeat of “do this, do that” and I would just think to myself, “why can’t everyone just leave me alone?” Being overstimulated was just an everyday occurrence, especially when I was in New York for auditions. My eyes were constantly scanning the streets, and darting around so fast they might as well have been spinning out of my head. Sometimes I worry myself more by having intrusive thoughts, picturing scenarios in my head where I’m in danger. The entire time during the walk from the bus station to wherever the audition was, my head would be repeating the words “Just get through this part.” I’d be fidgeting any way I could think of. I often crack my knuckles and pull on my fingers when I’m overstimulated, so I can focus on something and calm myself down. (sorry for the arthritis, older self.)

I love attention to detail. I enjoy finding hidden meanings and patterns in places where you’d least expect. Personally, I think fractals are extremely interesting. Fractals are the visualized concept of a never ending shape. I will occasionally sit at my computer and watch videos of fractals over and over. They have a pattern like rhythm that really captures my attention. In that separate area of attention, I’ve noticed that I am often very spatially aware and generally good at inferencing. It feels so simple to me sometimes, and my brain snaps to the most logical answer. I would also say that I’m a logical person. I tend to think very black and white when I’m distressed, but when I’m calm, I tend to give an answer to anything that I can.

Sometimes I fixate on odd things. I love otters. They are my favorite animal in the entire world. If you asked me about them, I could talk your ear off for hours and hours, and I’d most likely end up roping you into watching a YouTube video of otters with me. Asian small clawed otters are my favorite kind, and I even have an otter calendar as well as an otter plushie. I sometimes get quick bursts of other interests that pop up throughout the month. I enjoy having special interests, and it really does disappoint me when people don’t understand, or don’t reciprocate my interest. It feels like a punch in the gut. I’ve learned to accept the fact that most people will just acknowledge it, and move on. I understand that I might annoy people with how much I talk about them, but at the moment I don’t even realize how into it I’m getting. When I tell someone about something I like, it just all spills out as if my mouth is separate from my brain. Once again, there’s the correlation between the two brains.

As a child, I would obsess over the thought of me not being normal. If someone felt bad for me and said “But you are normal!” to comfort me, I technically wasn’t, so why should I believe them? How would that comfort me? As I grew up, I have come to accept the fact that I am not normal, but nobody is. There are 8 billion people on our planet, so there is statistically always going to be an average of anything. Technically, most people in the world are average/normal, because we all do the same things. The only thing that changes that, is the fact that nobody is wired the same way. We all have our own brains, and our own voice, and I think that is enough to say that everybody is different. I enjoy that.