When I was small, I didn’t even know that I was a kid with special needs. How did I find out? By other people telling me that I was different from everyone else, and that this was a problem. True enough. It was very hard for me to act like a normal person, and even now I still can’t ‘do’ a real conversation. I have no problem reading books aloud and singing, but as soon as I try to speak with someone, my words just vanish. Sure, sometimes I manage a few words – but even these can come out the complete opposite to what I want to say! (..) How often have the strange sounds coming out of my mouth embarrassed me nearly to death? Honest, I want to be nice and calm and quiet too! But even if we’re ordered to keep our mouths shut or to be quiet we simply don’t know how. Our voices are like our breathing, I feel, just coming out of our mouths, unconsciously.
(..)
In ‘set-pattern’ conversations, we manage much better: although, of course, when it comes to talking about your feelings, these patterns are no use at all. In fact, by relying on them too much you can end up saying the opposite of what you wanted to say. I swear conversation is such hard work! To make myself understood, it’s like I have to speak in an unknown foreign language, every minute of every day. (..) When there’s a gap between what I’m thinking and what I’m saying, it’s because the words coming out of my mouth are the only ones I can access at that time. These words are either available because I’m always using them or because they left a lasting impression on me at some point in the past.
(..)
It’s as if I’m drowning in a flood of words.

//Naoki Higashida, 2013, The Reason I Jump: The Inner Voice of a Thirteen-Year-Old Boy With Autism