The Reason I Jump: The Inner Voice of a Thirteen-Year-Old Boy with Autism

by Naoki Higashida

Every single thing has its own unique beauty. People with autism get to cherish this beauty, as if it’s a kind of blessing given to us. Wherever we go, whatever we do, we can never be completely lonely. We may look like we’re not with anyone, but we’re always in the company of friends.

Whether it’s hot or whether it’s cold, I always have a hard time choosing the right clothing, as well as putting extra layers on or peeling them off accordingly. Some people with autism keep wearing exactly the same type of clothes all through the year, in fact. What’s the deal here? What’s so tricky about putting on or taking off clothes as you need to? Well—search me. It might be scorching hot, and we know it’s scorching hot, but it simply might not occur to a person with autism that taking off a layer is a good idea. It’s not that we don’t understand the logic—it’s just that we somehow forget. We forget what we’re wearing, and how to make ourselves cooler.

Clothes are like an extension of our bodies, an outer skin, and so the day-in, day-outers find it reassuring to stick to the same outfit. We feel obliged to do everything we can to protect ourselves against uncertainty, and wearing comfy clothes we like is one way of doing this.

For us, time is as difficult to grasp as picturing a country we’ve never been to. You can’t capture the passing of time on a piece of paper. The hands of a clock may show that some time has passed, but the fact that we can’t actually feel it makes us nervous.