Can't tell what is me and what is the mask. Unsure of who I really am

I think it becomes evident to me when I consider how I behave in a social context, such as at work, and how I behave when alone.  I work with autistic people, and have worked for 13 years in general special needs care.  I feel much more 'natural' in my behaviour around such people.  In many senses, they bring out the child, the performer, the entertainer in me - which, really, is the natural me.  That 'me' also crosses over in my interactions with my NT colleagues, many of whom are much more - how should I put it? - reserved in their ways!  In fact, it's been said to me by people that they're surprised I'm autistic because I'm quite extrovert, always ready to make a joke, always singing, always behaving light-heartedly.  That's because of the service users, though.  I couldn't be like that in any other context, really.  Next to being on stage, it's a perfect working environment for me.  When I was a civil servant, by contrast - working with a lot of very buttoned-up people in an office - it drove me to despair.  There was no room for me to express myself naturally.  People simply thought I was odd.  As has been the case for much of my life in other areas: school, work, social activities (which have been generally kept to a minimum).  I always feel awkward in such circumstances.  In some ways, I suppose, my childish approach to life is a way of trying to gain acceptance.  If I can make people laugh, I'm succeeding.

At home, I don't socialise.  I don't go out unless I have to - to shop, or for a cycle ride, or to get to appointments.  I have no friends, nor do I especially want any.  They're too much of a distraction, and friendships are something I've never succeeded at or felt comfortable about.  It sounds odd and contradictory, I know, but I like to be highly thought of and liked... but I'm uncomfortable with the idea of people liking me, and I don't really like compliments.  Someone at work said to me 'You're a really great guy - others have said so - and it's always great to work with you.'  I should feel flattered by that.  But really, I'd rather not know.

I'm not really sure if I'm getting anywhere close to answering your question.  The 'me' I show at work is, by and large, the real me.  When the service users arrive in the morning, I'm like an actor going out on stage and giving a performance - and that performance is where I actually live.  I was reading that the late Peter Sellers, a great comic genius, was very unhappy and insecure being Peter Sellers.  His life was the characters he played.  Another seeming contradiction for me, then: the 'act' I seem to be putting on around the service users is the real me being expressed.  It isn't actually an act at all.  The act is when I have to be serious, grown up, adult - as I'm supposed to be at my age.  That's what I really have to practice at.  I've gotten better over the years.  But it's always exhausting.  Which is why my weekends are more about mentally and physically recharging myself than they are for most people.  I need the isolation.  I need to switch off from all people.

I think it becomes evident to me when I consider how I behave in a social context, such as at work, and how I behave when alone.  I work with autistic people, and have worked for 13 years in general special needs care.  I feel much more 'natural' in my behaviour around such people.  In many senses, they bring out the child, the performer, the entertainer in me - which, really, is the natural me.  That 'me' also crosses over in my interactions with my NT colleagues, many of whom are much more - how should I put it? - reserved in their ways!  In fact, it's been said to me by people that they're surprised I'm autistic because I'm quite extrovert, always ready to make a joke, always singing, always behaving light-heartedly.  That's because of the service users, though.  I couldn't be like that in any other context, really.  Next to being on stage, it's a perfect working environment for me.  When I was a civil servant, by contrast - working with a lot of very buttoned-up people in an office - it drove me to despair.  There was no room for me to express myself naturally.  People simply thought I was odd.  As has been the case for much of my life in other areas: school, work, social activities (which have been generally kept to a minimum).  I always feel awkward in such circumstances.  In some ways, I suppose, my childish approach to life is a way of trying to gain acceptance.  If I can make people laugh, I'm succeeding.

At home, I don't socialise.  I don't go out unless I have to - to shop, or for a cycle ride, or to get to appointments.  I have no friends, nor do I especially want any.  They're too much of a distraction, and friendships are something I've never succeeded at or felt comfortable about.  It sounds odd and contradictory, I know, but I like to be highly thought of and liked... but I'm uncomfortable with the idea of people liking me, and I don't really like compliments.  Someone at work said to me 'You're a really great guy - others have said so - and it's always great to work with you.'  I should feel flattered by that.  But really, I'd rather not know.

I'm not really sure if I'm getting anywhere close to answering your question.  The 'me' I show at work is, by and large, the real me.  When the service users arrive in the morning, I'm like an actor going out on stage and giving a performance - and that performance is where I actually live.  I was reading that the late Peter Sellers, a great comic genius, was very unhappy and insecure being Peter Sellers.  His life was the characters he played.  Another seeming contradiction for me, then: the 'act' I seem to be putting on around the service users is the real me being expressed.  It isn't actually an act at all.  The act is when I have to be serious, grown up, adult - as I'm supposed to be at my age.  That's what I really have to practice at.  I've gotten better over the years.  But it's always exhausting.  Which is why my weekends are more about mentally and physically recharging myself than they are for most people.  I need the isolation.  I need to switch off from all people.