It’s been a few years since I was on LinkedIn. It’s been a few years since I felt alive. For some time, I felt like I’d vanished from all knowing. No one knew where I was or what I was going through. It was as if I’d become invisible. And in many ways, I had. My identity, my sense of self, was fragmented and lost amid the chaos.
You see, 2017 hit me like a sledgehammer; Allostatic (over)load and an ACE of 10/10 finally caught up with me and I just… crashed. That sentence does not do the horror show of this a proper justice by far. Health, Happiness, and Houses were lost, mental health has suffered, and in the midst of all of it, my neurology was revealed to me – I’m #actuallyautistic – formally diagnosed by two PsyDs over roughly six days worth of assessments and conversations in early 2023. I was self-diagnosed in 2013, so this was no surprise, but the subsumption of my entire life and being?
The loss of my own story? The requirement to completely re-frame it based on what #neuroscience and #neuroanatomy now tell us? The grief of realizing that yes, I am exceptional, but no, not in ways that our culture, our societies, and our collective humanity have ever known, let alone have interest in understanding well enough to actively include me in ways I can healthily sustain?
The struggle to unmask in full knowledge that doing so will make me more of a target?
The anxiety of knowing I have to be who I am, but being terrified that it will only mean I remain unemployed and remanded to weekly stay living?
The pressure of knowing I must work because neither SSA nor EEOC can see how disabled I am (in both legal and medical ways), while also knowing from my doctors that the burnout and the masking are keeping my system so overloaded that it likely won’t be long until either a heart attack or stroke or ideation catch me?
(The absurdity of living in a reality where my medical and mental challenges are dismissed because I happen to have talent with words and can actually speak for and advocate for myself?)
Do I sound angry? I am merely resigned.
I am a blunt communicator as this is simply my neurotype’s communication style/affect. But I had to leave my last job thanks to the overt and aggressive refusal to even try to understand this about me. I believe the way they put it was (paraphrasing), “Your communication issues are your own to solve.”
I always find that insightful, they way people tell you about themselves. You see, for me, the ‘double empathy problem’ is shared between the #neurodivergent and the #neurotypical. Fifty-fifty.
And the problem rests in the fact that the neurotypical half of this problem isn’t being up-taken by neurotypical humans, companies, culture, or society. The reasons vary, really; some are ignorant of the science (be that by preference or lack of access/education), some are reluctant to believe the science because it upsets historically fixed hierarchy, philosophy, and even religious preferences, and some because xenophobia in the genome is a continuum as well, and eugenics is still much more popular than it should be here, in 2024.
I’m sure I could expand the list, but the point I’m making is that we have a weft of thick nuance that most seemingly lack the interest (capacity?) to engage once the tectonic ramifications of actual, emergent, and unique neurotypes and phenotypes begin to unfold in the mind.
I hope I am demonstrating both my blessing and my curse in this post. I am labeled with positive traits, but have often “joked” that I am ok in small doses, but tend to overwhelm otherwise.
I have looked for work for years now, and other than a 6 month blip (mentioned above), remain unemployed.
I still need to do the work I love to do, and which I am genuinely excellent at (e.g., business analysis, competitive analysis, business architecture, requirements elicitation, management, and delivery, product ownership).
But now, to manage burnout and confirmed sensitivities, I must work from home. No travel, and with some accommodations.
I am excellent at putting out fires. I freely admit I will also start them when there’s a need to let something burn to benefit the business, the user, or the world.
Some will call me ‘unprofessional’, but others will see my integrity, honesty, transparency, and commitment to everything I say or do.
Some will call me ‘rude’, but others will see my openness, straightforwardness, and lack of filter as the honing stone for having proactive and progressive conversations.
Many may say many things; all I can say is that I know what I can do, how and why I can do it, and how to teach others to do it, too. This is my baseline engagement goal in everything I ever do.
Other than this? I want to work for a company that not only knows how to appreciate me as I am, but is willing to allow me to do what I do in exchange for a restoration of my ability to provide for myself in this life, hopefully for many decades yet to come (I have epically long telomeres!).
But I am being very optimistic here. You see, not only am I struggling to rebuild my identity, struggling to resolve that ACE 10/10 overload, struggling to maintain my chemistry and health, and oh yes, fully and completely rebooting my entire life history and story so I can know ‘who I actually am’ without masks, trauma, and medical imbalances, I’m doing it without family or friends.
They say everyone is the hero of their own story, and I believe that is true and moreover, that isn’t a bad thing. This world is hard, uncaring, and cold… if you cannot be your own best friend, fan, and family first, you’ll wind up like me. Or worse, I suppose. So don’t be like me.
And maybe engage with me so I can have other humans to share the journey with and learn from. I’m just one, alto voice in a grand, universal reality. Harmonies are so much more enjoyable.
Yes, I am an autistic human. Yes, I am neurodivergent – a part of that vast, often misunderstood spectrum of disorders.
And I’ve come to realize that our community is deeper, richer, and more powerful than just one or two ‘exceptional’ efficiencies. We’re a continuum of abilities, each one unique and valuable in its own way.
The problem is, the world doesn’t always get it. Neurodivergence is still viewed as an outlier, something to be tolerated or accommodated rather than celebrated.
And that’s why I’m writing this post – to share my story, to shed light on the struggles we face, and to advocate for a more inclusive understanding of neurodivergence in the workplace.
It’s not just about accommodating a few individuals; it’s about recognizing the incredible value we can bring to teams and organizations.
It’s about creating environments that support our unique strengths and allow us to thrive while we exponentially improve any area to which we align.
It’s also about including us no matter how strong your neurotypical bias or rejection may be triggering you. Trust me when I tell you that this will put you on the right side of history.
And yes, this will be historic once the publishers catch up and mainstream education is truly accomplished.
As for me, as I slowly regain my footing, I’m learning to unmask and be my authentic self. It’s a process, but one that’s essential for me to heal and grow. And as I do, I’m realizing that my experiences – the struggles, the setbacks, and the triumphs – are not unique to me.
My skills are transferable to many roles. I invite you to consider them as I do. I want to work.
And I want as many of us as possible to come together and work together to change the narrative around neurodivergence. Let’s create a world where we can thrive, where our differences are celebrated, and where everyone has the opportunity to shine in their own way.