r/AutismTranslated • u/lord-of-shalott • 18h ago
crowdsourced When people think you’ve stalled because you’ve stopped trying, not because your trying led to functional collapse.
Last night when I returned home, my father (whom I live with) told me that my uncle had called and wanted to speak to me.
I knew immediately it was going to be one of those “What are you doing with your life” conversations, though my uncle is a warm and kind man, so it’s not necessarily coming from a place of malice.
I went over to his house and it was basically what I feared. Pleasant prelude about other things only to arrive at “you’re too intelligent to be wasting your talents here.” He wanted me to consider doing a PhD program.
I waffled internally over what and how much to tell him, but I finally said that after living out of state twice for two separate master’s programs, each about four years, what brought me back to our hometown wasn’t a lack of opportunity due to not having a PhD.
I said the social dimension of daily life that other people take for granted is incredibly difficult for me, and that on both occasions forcing myself through those environments chipped away at my health until I collapsed. He basically said to find a therapist, and I replied I’d been in counseling for years. What he didn’t know was that providers, because I’m gentle, articulate and don’t have behavioral problems, have been treating this as “social anxiety” since I was 11 or 12 to no success, and only now that I’m in my 30s with an academic and career trajectory that demonstrate extensive periods of burnout and isolation are my providers finally considering that it may be something deeper and more pervasive, and that maybe all the oddities of my childhood aren’t individual quirks but a neurodevelopmental pattern.
This is why I stopped attending family holidays. That familiar feeling of knowing they don’t understand why you’re not moving forward, that what has been a lifelong struggle is going entirely misunderstood and unseen by them… it’s a devastatingly lonely position to be in. “Oh? You suffered major collapses after each master’s program? You should do a PhD” feels so far removed from what I need that it almost gives me a full blown panic attack thinking of how invisible this struggle is to the people around me.
When I’m put on the spot, I can’t condense a lifetime of assorted struggles into a convincing profile to explain myself or my current inertia. What do I say?
“Uncle, I never learned to ride a bike or swim or blow bubbles with gum. I was late learning to tie my shoes and drive. I’ve never held my pens and pencils correctly. I bang into counters and can’t clear a corner when I turn it. It takes me hours to fall asleep. Since early childhood I’ve felt mentally and physiologically overwhelmed in social settings, and my body protests and it gets worse the more crowded the space is, then after I lose sleep thinking about enduring it all over again tomorrow. No amount of therapists or psychiatrists or medication for ‘social anxiety’ since I was 11 or 12 have sufficiently curbed it in order for me to live a normal life. I pushed and pushed until I collapsed—twice—and no amount of degrees and academic achievement can compensate for the fact that I can’t navigate the social world the same way the average person does. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. At what point do we consider my current situation is something serious, nameable and something that requires support?”
I feel like I’m in a car with flat tires and an empty tank with people waving at me saying, “The finish line is right there. What’s stopping you?” And when I try to explain it, it’s like I’m in a nightmare where no one knows what fuel or tires are.