I got a formal ASD diagnosis last year, several years after my second informal diagnosis. I had thought that getting that piece of paper would be validation of how I have experienced the world throughout my life. I’d begun the process of reframing my earlier experiences through the lens of neurodiversity and letting go of some of the shame I have been carrying about who I am. What I hadn’t expected was how big of an adjustment it’s been to wrap my head around the fact that I have a disability.
A disability is an impairment which reduces a person’s ability to do certain activities and interact with the world around them. No matter how hard I try (and believe me it’s a lot) I will never experience the world the way a neurotypical person does. Some of my autism related impairments can be worked around, but these work arounds have costs for me. Some of my impairments would be less of a problem if the world was set up in a way that worked better for me – for example accessible design in public spaces would reduce sensory impact on me – and society had more understanding of autism and acceptance of difference.
Recent MRI imaging studies have found that the brains of people with ASD have differences in anatomical structure, local neuronal circuitry and the function of brain regions. I couldn’t work out for quite some time why this upset me when I knew that autism was a difference in brain wiring. Tonight I was mulling this over again and I realised that while I thought I was “at peace” with being different, I had internalised the idea of neuroplasticity. Neuroplasticity is the brain’s ability to reorganise itself by forming new neural connections. It has been fundamental to the treatment of my depression and borderline personality disorder, as the psychological treatments I have worked my way through have been about creating new responses to trigger thoughts and events.
However, with autism, no amount of work on developing new neural pathways is going to make it go away. I am stuck with a brain which has developed differently and will continue to look and function differently to the majority of people.
In one way this releases me from the burden of searching for the right therapy to solve all my autism related problems. On the other hand, I’ve realised these differences will be with me forever and it is not something I just need to work harder to solve. I am disabled. No matter how hard I work
- My senses will always be more finely tuned than yours
- My hearing will work differently to yours
- I will always have to work harder to process speech than you do
- I will always struggle to stay organised and manage my day to day life
- Transitions and change will always be a challenge
- I will be prone to overstimulation, meltdown and shutdown
- My ability to follow conversation is not going to improve
- I will still spend much of my social interactions smiling and noding while hoping that isn’t an inappropriate response because I have no idea what is going on
- Face blindness will continue to be a problem for me
- Social rules will always be a mystery to me
- I’ll always have to be prepared in case I become overloaded and non verbal
- Almost nothing about the way neurotypical society works will ever be natural to me
I think I had always assumed that diagnosis meant being able to be “fixed”. This is the medical model of disability, where you figure out the problem, you “fix” the problem and the outcome is a normalised functioning member of existing society. Despite knowing that autism could not be fixed and would not go away, I had held the belief that somehow I would remain autistic and yet be fixed and function like a neurotypical person in a neurotypical society. I can see now how that doesn’t make any sense but I’ve been living my life with the knowledge of my diagnosis thinking that I just need to fix myself and all will be fine.
However, knowing that my brain is fundamentally different and accepting I am disabled means also acknowledging that I am not going to be “fixed”. This is who I am and because I can not fix myself, I need to ask society to remove the barriers that keep me from being part of it. It is ok to acknowledge who I am, to ask for understanding and acceptance, and to request the accommodations I need.
It is my hope this will also alleviate some of my depression. If I am prepared to acknowledge that many of my struggles are due to the ways in which I have coped with a society which expected me to adapt to it, then I can start letting go of the guilt and shame I have for failing in this. I was set up to fail, and that failure has taken a terrible toll on me. My mental illnesses are a product of this.
Ka Kite