Hello you!
It wasn’t an official diagnosis but it felt as good as. This woman has been my therapist for 7 years. She knows things about me I’d never admit to anyone else. Before the ‘I think you might be autistic’ bombshell came a few questions.
I’d been telling her about how I felt taken advantage of in a few friendships lately. She asked me about control and whether I struggled to relinquish it. I thought this was a joke. She knows me well enough to answer for herself - of course I do! Then she asked if I often get so lost in my creative work that everything else disappears - yes. Do I feel heightened senses - visually and sound wise absolutely. How do I feel after social situations? Usually overwhelmed and like I need to disappear for a few days to recover. Do I feel like I can read people intuitively? Like I was reading her right now - yes.
I knew exactly where she was going and what she was going to say before she said it. ‘I think you might be autistic Jess. I’m seeing too many traits to not say anything.’
My first reaction was, well I’m not surprised. I’ve always felt different to most people, like I don’t fit in and as if I’m living in a world that isn’t set up for people like me. Also my uncle is severely autistic and while she’s only been diagnosed with learning disabilities my sister shows strong signs of traits too. It runs in my family to the point where I always wondered if I’d have an autistic child.
So maybe this magical world I live in isn’t a wonderland of creativity, maybe it’s neurodivergence. Perhaps the two are the same? This doesn’t feel important. Where I felt dumbfounded was how this affects relationships, both platonic and romantic. I told her how I’d always struggled with female friendship groups (you’ll remember I started a thread on this here recently) and she said this would explain those struggles - huh.
Jobs and relationships in particular have been a lifelong struggle for me, unless I mask myself and pretend to be like other people or hide my true feelings. I always put it down to my childhood and trauma or my disorganised attachment style, but now I have other avenues to explore. Fitting into the corporate world genuinely feels impossible for me. When people ask what I would do if I couldn’t make a living from my creativity anymore my honest answer is I don’t know because there’s no way I could survive in an office or working for any kind of boss. It just doesn’t work for me. I’m pretty sure I’d get fired within weeks.
Earlier that day I’d had one of my many moments of intense empathy, which was also flagged as a potential trait, on the metro. A woman grabbed the bar above the seat next to me and I heard a man start shouting in distress. ‘Non madame. Non,’ he cried. People looked afraid but I knew instantly he’d been triggered. She’d invaded his personal space beyond comfort zone and he was communicating this is the only way he knew how. Then came the side eyes, the laughs and the smirks. She looked genuinely uncomfortable and a little afraid. I felt deeply for both of them. Him living in a world that didn’t understand him and her feeling unsafe and equally invaded. How complex we all are I thought. How difficult it is to truly co-exist and understand one another. Is it even possible? I didn’t give it much thought after that until the ability to read people and feel extreme empathy was put in front of me as part of this sort of diagnosis.
When I called my mum to tell her she said, ‘well I’ve always known you’re not normal Jessica. It doesn’t really matter what we call it. Anyway I don’t think you’re autistic because you love being touched’. My friends had a mixed response ranging from ‘I’m austistic, welcome to the club. It’s no big deal’ to ‘no you’re not. I conflict with autistic people,’ and ‘I could’ve told you that you’re not wired like everyone else for free’. I’m not really sure what to make of those.
Last night I felt excited, like this might be an explanation and definitely something to explore medically, but this morning as I’m writing my letter to you I feel sad. Really sad. It feels ok but a little strange. I’m not really sure what to do next. Try to get an official diagnosis? What’s the point? What would I do with it? I also feel like it’s another label, one for me to turn into a strength instead of seeing it as yet another weakness.
It’s been a couple of weeks since I started writing this post. I needed that to sit with feelings that came up and process what happened. One of my favourite pieces of life advice is if in doubt do nothing. It works every time. I’ve decided to do very little with my therapist’s theory or observations or recommendations or whatever you want to call it.
It feels pointless to pursue an official diagnosis in my position because I’m not sure what would change. I already know I’m ‘different’ to most people and I’ve known this my whole life. There’s no need for a label in my opinion - though I imagine that can feel incredibly validating and useful for some.
The life I’ve created for myself exists outside the corporate world, which when I did work in it was an absolute nightmare for me, so I’ve already made adjustments to make a career on my own terms. The elephant in the room of course is that I now live in a foreign country with a significant language barrier in place and have no desire to return to the UK right now to use NHS services.
What I will be doing is some reading and exploration. The idea of attaching myself to an identity is something I’m trying to let go of right now so labelling myself with something new, even though yes it could be considered a superpower, feels obsolete. So I thank my therapist for her observation but I decline to go down the route of putting myself in yet another box. I choose to accept myself, right now in this moment exactly as I am. No matter what.
Have you ever experienced an adult diagnosis? Or know someone who has? I’d love to hear about your experience, the feelings around it and actions taken.
Lots of love
Jessica xxx
I was so happy to hear that in the end, you chose to accept yourself, no box, no label. Everything you and your therapist described sounds like me and what my life has looked like so I thought it was just the norm for those of us who are sensitive, often introverted and feel different from others. If that means I’m autistic (it doesn’t) then I’m totally good with that. Also, I do believe those that are considered autistic have a different sense of the world and just because most of us don’t understand it, it doesn’t mean it isn’t true, meaningful and beautiful in its own way. I know autistic children, my son is on the spectrum (also has ADHD) and has worked with autistic children so I come from a place of appreciation. What makes you special belongs to you. I have a feeling you will figure out how to navigate that all on your own.
Jessica, one of the only thing that would change is a better and more clear understanding of yourself. This is absolutely a big deal, and effects every facet of life. I was officially diagnosed in 2013,however an earlier diagnosis would have benefited me greatly (despite being tested and misdiagnosed many times), although I don't think much would have really been different , aside from a revelation and personal revolution...Please also ignore all or the cliche symptoms and known traits that the public understands to be associated with Autism. When you ( others) meet an Autistic person they meet an autistic person. While there are similarities among our tribe, each are individual. Don't let others project what they believe is the case or typical,and females present very differently than males)-or do not want to accept as reality. Their reality is not yours. Accepting yourself and knowing your own truth are where you will find strength. I'm happy to share and talk more with you about this if you'd like, in any way you feel comfortable. Understand too that I am just feeling comfortable enough to "come out" as my authentic self in recent years. I've been using the word "neurodivergent" because nobody understands me when I use the word Autism. Anyone worth their salt will accept, support,and love us as we are, and be okay with that...blessings as always, Jessica.