Emotional outburst

I had an unexpected emotional explosion thirty minutes before my video appointment. I have spent my whole life hiding my autistic traits, particularly in official environments, such as doctor appointments, job interviews etc. I suddenly realised that I needed to show all the sides of me I have always thought would get me into trouble or lead to someone judging me as odd and having something wrong with me.

I can’t do it!

I very rarely say these words and anyone with a divergent brain will relate. I can’t do it! The reason I struggle with these words is not down to a strict childhood or due to being proud. I just very rarely feel that way because all my life I have made the impossible happen.

Every day, the simplest of tasks feels impossible and every day I do them. I keep coming back, each day; the difficulty doesn’t get easier and the practice makes no difference but I never give up.

A strange feeling

There I was saying “I can’t do it” but the reason I felt this way was because I was facing something that I had never considered an option. The option to own up to those challenges I still face as a nearly 40 year old adult. The habits I still have that most people grow out of as a child. And worst of all, I was going to say it to someone who would make notes on it and put it in black and white.

Every day, the simplest of tasks feels impossible and every day I do them

The most vulnerable a neurodivergent person can be is talking openly about their challenges. Not the big ones, like for me, learning to drive or ride a bike. It’s the little things, the things that help us to function on a day to day basis that we still struggle with as an adult. Even though I knew I would be speaking to someone who deals with ASD assessments everyday, it didn’t help. I knew my story would be completely different to whoever else they had heard that day.

I knew I had to drop the mask and own up to my difficulties in an environment where I have become so hard wired to perform in a certain way

One of the areas that first made me realise I am Autistic is my social awkardness. I can handle a job interview and attend a formal board meeting with relative ease but ask me to go for a casual drink after work and I am filled with dread and desperately trying to make my excuses. It was this social skill with formality which was causing me the most discomfort when facing my video assessment. I knew I had to drop the mask and own up to my difficulties in an environment where I have become so hard wired to perform in a certain way.

The call

Having gone through all the things that I felt demonstrated my neurodivergent brain with my husband, I readied myself for the call.

Here comes the good news. As soon as I started opening up, I could see the understanding and empathetic eyes of the doctor in front of me and I immediately felt encouraged to continue.

Not only that, but she took some of the examples I gave, and helped me expand on them. She supported me to do this in a way that showed me this was not the first time she had heard it and she understood the reasoning behind this behaviour.

Seeing that nod of understanding when talking about my social awkwardness was the opposite of what I am used to. More often than not, it gets greeted with a look of surprise. This is the down side of masking so convincingly, it’s hard for people to understsand something that they can’t see.

Feeling more confident

I actually found that the more I revealed about myself, the more things came into my head that I hadn’t considered before. It was empowering to say it out loud and no longer hide it, like it was something to be ashamed of. As I was explaining my challenges, the doctor could put it into the context of all the things I have achieved and how could they not respect me for that?

I still had loads of points left on my list but the doctor seemed to be bringing the call to a close. She then gave me the option to add anything, so I worked my way through my bullet points. My talking got faster and faster as I saw that she wasn’t noting anything down. In the end, I gave up. I could see she didn’t want to hear anymore and that was that.

As simple as that

What happened next may not be the same for others but I had heard it can happen. The doctor said I had given her more than enough information and that she liked to let people know her answer straight away.

My stomach started doing somersaults and my brain was racing. I started to think about how I was going to cope if she didn’t diagnose me. Then she said it:

“you meet the criteria for a diagnosis of autism”

Delayed response

I didn’t respond at first as I almost couldn’t believe she had said it and was waiting for a but or a “this has to be approved by my colleague”; that didn’t come.

She then said that someone had cried when they told her and my eyes filled up and the emotion came gushing out. I even made a joke that this is a good example of my delayed processing time. I was still trying to prove my diagnosis even after it had been confirmed!

As soon as the call finished I shouted down to my husband who couldn’t understand what I was saying through my emotional voice. I then balled my eyes out while my husband hugged me.

Huge relief

On reflection, the main cause of my tears was relief. Ever since my lightbulb moment that “I am autistic” came (over 2 years ago) I have been building up my case for this assessment. As you will see from my previous articles, I have used this period of self-diagnosis to explore what it means and how you can start to make changes in your life before you even have an official diagnosis.

I have found writing and engaging with social media a great place to find people who are having the same experience as me. There are plenty of people out there who are self-diagnosed. I have also felt accepted by those who are diagnosed who see self-diagnosis as completely valid.

I didn’t want to make people feel uncomfortable with the strength in my conviction

However, I really wanted it to be official. This could be down to my nature. I have always felt more at ease with authority and things being official. It helps with my confidence. I was still a little shy about claiming my self-diagnosis. There was only so far I could go with my claims before I felt I had to add on words to tone it down. I didn’t want to make people feel uncomfortable with the strength in my conviction.

Autistic writer

I write children’s stories, so for me personally, having an official diagnosis means I can identify the characters I write as Autistic as I am Autistic too. I can only really write Autistic characters and I know they are very relatable but giving them that specific label is important to me.

It is important because it puts the name to it that may help other people to identify with it. It is so easy to go down the “a bit autistic” route when you have been masking all your life and you have got so used to the official version of you that you start to believe it yourself.

I would love more children, particularly girls, to learn of their neurodivergence as young as possible. This will help them be themselves and explore their gifts and talents without having to put all their energy into masking the other traits that don’t fit so well in a neurotypical dominated society.

My overall emotion from being diagnosed was relief and a feeling of validation. I was proud of being autistic before, but now I feel I can say it out loud with confidence. That, for me, is what it was all about.

ADHD next?

My diagnostic journey does not end here. I was advised to pursue an ADHD diagnosis next. Unfortunately, I have to go back to the GP for a referral but have been told the waiting list is not as long as it was when I joined it last time.

My next article will be all about my follow up appointment from this ASD assessment. This was a lot more positive and life affirming than I had expected! Watch this space…