Published on 12, July, 2020
Looking back over my childhood and considering various experiences within my wider family, I can trace not only what I believe to be the "path of autism" but also a fair amount of poverty, to varying degrees.
Now I'm not suggesting that there's a straightforward link between autism and poverty - certainly I can see many positives to my neurodivergent mind which have enabled me to make a fair living over the years - but the patterns do seem intertwined. I can see lots of issues with anxiety, depression and addiction too but increasingly I suspect these might be related to undiagnosed (and therefore unsupported) autism. The patterns seem to involve difficulties in the workplace (choosing and staying in jobs), education (especially higher education where independence and social factors seems to become increasingly important), accessing healthcare and applying for benefits (a stressful process in itself).
During my teenage years in particular, we went through a lot of poverty and our living conditions were quite poor, to the extent that we didn't dare invite people round and our social isolation became ever worse. Dad did what work he could, but was trapped in a low paying job and neither of my parents had much knowledge of the benefits system (I was quite shocked recently when my now elderly mother said that we probably could have claimed something to help).
And going back a generation, my grandmother's house was something of a disaster. No housework ever done, not much with which to do it, no repairs carried out, not much washing, a LOT of hoarding, alcohol consumption and gambling. It was like that with my uncles too, although they were very intelligent people and obviously quite talented in many ways.
Is this all necessarily to do with autism? Probably not. But I'm suspicious. Especially now that my sons are having major difficulties making their way in the world and a lot of our money seems to go on false starts in education and work. There's some good stuff in there too no doubt, but I'm worried.
Any thoughts?
Are we talking of just financial poverty here, or all flavours? I.e emotional, psychological self
I was thinking specifically about financial poverty in my original post but I also feel these can be strongly interlinked.
During my teenage years, for example, our poverty impinged on just about everything else. If, for example, you'd like to go on a school trip but there's no money for that, then you simply can't go. Likewise, any extracurricular activities or family times away from the home. Plus, if the home is in an atrocious state of filth and disrepair, you probably won't be inviting friends home either. And you'll be reluctant to accept others' invitations, knowing you can't return the hospitality. This all impacts on you psychologically, particularly if you're already finding it difficult to connect with others and make friends.
There was no shortage of love in my family home, so in a way many might compare and see me as having enjoyed great wealth. But I can remember feeling as a teenager that nobody should have to put up with this level of poverty and I wanted to involve social services (whilst not, of course, knowing how to go about this). It was a huge puzzle to me as well as a source of considerable distress - along the lines of, well, if I'm so loved why am I denied basic necessities and effectively excluded from most activities?
Now, as an adult, I can honestly say that my psychology has been deeply affected by this. I don't think of myself as poor, psychologically speaking. In fact I have a rich inner life. However, there are clear areas of damage that have had a long term effect.
As it stands, I find that when my finances are secure I feel buffered in the world, I can buy myself out of some difficult situations, my confidence levels increase and my general relationship with the world and other people is altered. It definitely has an impact on my sense of self.
Totally agree, when financially secure, it's much easier to have self-esteem and to feel a sense of security and wellbeing. I had the inverse of your childhood 'balance' - my father came from poverty but we were 'petty bourgeouis' (he went to night school) and the home was orderly and comfortable if shabby - but I didn't feel loved, on the contrary. I was made to feel like some sort of monstrous embarrassment and disruptive burden on my parents. I went to a posh grammar school and was bullied by teachers and other girls alike, I've never been able to separate to what extent I was bullied for AS or for being lower-class. I always thought that being loved and accepted was far more important than material things but I also see how pulverising it is to be socially excluded because you can't afford restaurants etc and to have people look down their noses at your home, and to get sneered at because you don't know 'the form' - and the incredible value of being able to 'buy yourself out' of practical/emotional crises. Poverty is relative, as they say. If everyone lives in a mud hut that's just normal.
It's impossible to separate the emotional fallout from the grinding pressure of insecurity when it comes to poverty. But as long as you have food and a warm place to sleep, it's really all about whether you can relax in a basic sense of security (will there be food and shelter tomorrow?) and of social pressures/casual bullying.
Some people will have an easier time than others in some areas of their lives but then they may struggle in areas where others may have an easier time. Some will win running races without any legs while some with perfectly good legs won't even walk to the shop. It's all a matter of how we see the world and our beliefs.
I agree - there's plenty of evidence of seemingly happy and successful people struggling in private. But I do also think that some people do have an easier time of things than others.
I'd be prepared to consider that nobody is ever prepared to thrive in the world. Some people can appear to thrive in the world but that's down to our perceptions. It's like when you walk down the street and see people smiling happily, having a laugh, holding hands with their partners & family. It all comes together to conjure up an image of a happy family who are enjoying life, which from that starting point we make assumptions about their lives and lifestyles. It's so easy to create these false images of others, which we create in our own minds, which then fuels our own problems of how we see ourselves in comparison to what we've just created in our minds of how wonderful the lives of others must be. We don't actually know what's going on with the lives of others.
Are the people we label as thriving and successful really thriving and successful?
Maybe there are those who don't consider themselves as having been equipped to thrive in life as they may have their own bad experiences, their own mental health issues, etc. Yet, maybe they're just more adept at covering such things up in the way that photoshopping images of models in fashion magazines, which presents a false image of some models, helps fuel issues around people feeling depressed over their body image as they compare their own bodies to these images.
People try too hard to strive for perfection as we are bombarded by so many messages from the environment around us that we should strive to be this or that or whatever it is that defines the expectations of what it is we should be. I'm certainly not perfect and I never will be.
I 100% agree with this sentiment. It's not our fault but we still have to find a way to learn to live in this world and that's certainly not always an easy task, especially when we have to find our own way of coping by going through a lot of bad experiences without adequate support to help prepare us.
Exactly. It's totally horrible and I don't want it in my mind. It kind of pops up when I'm feeling particularly low so it's in there somewhere unfortunately. :(
I'm finding it easier to feel more compassion towards my parents lately so I'm hoping such thoughts will retreat. I guess it's born of resentment at not feeling equipped to thrive in the world. However, there are so many areas in which I wouldn't want to thrive anyway and others to which I can happily migrate. I'm hoping my forays into the literature on neurodiversity will foster that and also that this has a knock on effect on what I'm able to offer my sons.