Published on 12, July, 2020
Has anyone who has been here a long time got an answer to this question? We all obviously come here for a reason, but how often does it turn out that it ISN'T autism-related?
I'm planning on disclosing to my employer on Thursday that I am awaiting an assessment and explaining some of the difficulties that I have. I know some people disagree with this approach but I have a challenging and unpredictable job and I've just changed employer, and I feel like I need support from the earliest opportunity even if I'm wrong and my needs are anxiety-related rather than autism.
I am prepared for the fact that I may have quite a wait until I am assessed so it is going to be in the back if my mind that they may consciously or subconsciously treat me differently and then I don't get the outcome I expect. I don't want to feel like a fraud.
Interested in any thoughts people have about this.
M said:Has anyone who has been here a long time got an answer to this question? We all obviously come here for a reason, but how often does it turn out that it ISN'T autism-related?
As someone who has been a community member since the end of October 2016, not all that many really, usually involving either having quite a number of autistic traits but not quite enough to be diagnosed with, or else more usually having Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Social Anxiety Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder or a Psychosis Not Otherwise Defined, that I recall.
Although, that being stated, more female and some male Aspie 'stealth troopers' tend rather to need a diagnostic specialist that can spot that social camouflaging and personal masking is being used in an aspergenic manner, which does mean that if diagnosticians are only looking for blatant or really obvious autistic patterns of behaviour, some people don't get assessed or diagnosed on the first or second attempt.
A friend of mine for instance as soon as she stepped the through door into the room of her second diagnostic assessment, was 'instructed' by the diagnostic assessor, "Drop the mask as you don't need it here!" and as a result of so doing she was thereafter procedurally diagnosed as having Asperger's Syndrome.
M said:I'm planning on disclosing to my employer on Thursday that I am awaiting an assessment and explaining some of the difficulties that I have. I know some people disagree with this approach but I have a challenging and unpredictable job and I've just changed employer, and I feel like I need support from the earliest opportunity even if I'm wrong and my needs are anxiety-related rather than autism.
Having a permanent neurological condition (i.e., Autism or Asperger's Syndrome) or a temporary or even long-term mental health condition (such as Social Anxiety Disorder or Psychosis Not Otherwise Specified) should not in either instance be used as a means to discriminate against or fire you or anyone, according to the Equality Act 2010. As long as you can in the first place do the work and they can (according to legal obligation) assist you doing that work for them, that should be the case.
Besides which, I believe it amounts to good conduct in terms of letting employers know one is psychologically divergent as being on the spectrum, or has since employment become aware that it is a likelihood ~ forewarned and forearmed and all that, especially if for your employer you become an in-house 'go-to' on autistic issues or are just perseverantly focused on fully achieving your case load requirements ~ be that in the qualitative and or the quantitative sense, perhaps.
M said:I am prepared for the fact that I may have quite a wait until I am assessed so it is going to be in the back if my mind that they may consciously or subconsciously treat me differently and then I don't get the outcome I expect.
I was first informed that the waiting time for being assessed as having Asperger's Syndrome was two and half years back in 2013, so was quite pleased with that in terms of it giving me the time to get ready for the assessment process and thereafter psychologically adjusting to it (i.e., developmental narrative re-framing and the emotional releases and all that in respect of coming to terms with it all, otherwise referred to as the 'Diagnostic Hangover').
Even though the diagnosis was considered as being the only possible outcome left and therefore a certainty, I kept in mind that I might just be as accused 'someone who seeks therapy for attention but obstructs the process for satisfaction'. The psychologist kept making out that I was doing this wilfully, yet I was absolutely adamant it could only be an unconscious resistance, if in fact there was any resistance at all.
M said: I don't want to feel like a fraud.
In that a fraud is a plan of action orchestrated to make people believe that something not the case 'is' the case ~ so as to unfairly or illegally gain from so doing, would it not be more you actually don't want people to imagine incorrectly that you are a fraudulent person ~ or even falsely accuse you of being one?
As such, consider perhaps the following blog article:
By Zoey Giesberg, MSW
When I first learned I have autism, it felt like a simultaneous blessing and a curse. As I have previously written, I spent most of my childhood feeling like an outsider due to things I couldn’t control and figured I was slowly going mad because no one would give me a straight answer of why I was the way I was. So it’s easy to imagine that the news of my diagnosis was a huge relief in the sense that all my questions were answered. It was, but it also came with the cost of learning that I was not and never will be “normal” because of all the challenges I had. And with not being “normal,” my life would always be harder than most people’s.
In spite of this, I’m often told I’m a “success story.” I made my way through school being fully mainstreamed into honors and AP classes, graduated from college in four years, and received a Masters in Social Work from a prestigious university. I have a good steady job where people appreciate my contributions and have made headway into participating in the disability community of Los Angeles. I live on my own, I don’t excessively struggle with money management, and I have good friends and family I can depend on. At the risk of sounding arrogant, it does seem like I am a “success”.
So why do I constantly feel like I’m barely keeping it together and what I do isn’t nearly enough?
That particular feeling has given birth to one of the most popular terms in pop psychology: impostor syndrome. Coined by psychologists Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes in 1978, impostor syndrome is defined as believing like one is unintelligent, incapable, or uncreative despite evidence of high achievement. This is accompanied by a constant fear of being exposed as a fraud despite high motivation to achieve. It’s basically having terrible sense of self, despite seeming very successful and feeling that despite one’s hard work they’re not worthy for whatever reason. It’s a fairly common phenomenon and leads to a lot of mental health issues, like anxiety and depression. Women and minorities seem to be especially prey to impostor syndrome due to reinforced societal hierarchies . Anyone who isn’t a white male feels like they have to work harder for the same achievements and live in constant fear that their hard work will always be dismissed as being lesser.
And then there’s the case of disability. There’s no doubt that living with a disability presents a lot of challenges that most people never think of having. And that sense that life dealt me a drastically harder hand to play has affected many aspects of my life. Autism affects my ability to relate and understand the world so being able to meet societal expectations in any area is a daunting task. What are the odds of being a “success” when you have a disability like autism? And what are the odds that you’ll keep that “success” going?
For a long time, I felt that I had to prove that I was “better” than my autism. I had such a negative perception of myself when I learned of my diagnosis that I took the idea of having autism as a deficit. Because I was so different from my peers and had social and processing challenges, I had to be better than them in pursuing the same things they were. I believed that I had the right to want the same things as everyone else, so there was no reason for me to get what I wanted. I refused to let autism “get in my way.”
Yet this deficit-based mindset kept me in a perpetual state of panic of what would happen if my autistic challenges did come to the fore, creating potentially negative consequences. I have often been described as “passing” for acting “normal” in many situations. But with that comes the price of that if any of my symptoms were made apparent, I would be in huge trouble. And I have had many past experiences confirming this fear. I was forcibly put on medical leave during my freshman year in college due to meltdowns. I had lost jobs and internships over panic attacks, and lost boyfriends because they couldn’t “handle me”. These experiences caused me to develop a guarded shell to prevent anyone from suspecting my challenges. This in turn made me feel I had to work twice as hard to maintain the veneer of “normalcy”. With that challenge, it’s been difficult to appreciate what I’ve been able to accomplish because I’m constantly afraid it’ll all fall apart should something go wrong.
I’m in the process of unlearning this fear of inadequacy and appreciating what I have through learning self-acceptance. My experiences working with disabled people has forced me to confront my negative perceptions of myself. I believe there’s nothing wrong with them, so why should I think there’s something wrong with me? Autism has also helped me many ways. M y thought processes have always given me a unique perspective of the world that has garnered respect my peers, my professors, and later helped in my work. There is value in that, and I can appreciate that it makes me special in a good way. And I’m increasing taking joy in the small victories, whether it’s a client getting job interviews or getting my projects done with good feedback. They say it’s the small things that keep people going, and I’ve found that approach to be true for me.
It’s hard to feel worthy of good things when you’ve spent a lifetime feeling undeserving and fearing the worst. Yes, I have worked harder to get what I have and will continue to do so, but it doesn’t make what I’ve done any less great. And I encourage everyone to practice celebrating themselves through what makes them unique and taking joy in the small accomplishments. No matter what challenges anyone may have, I truly don’t want anyone to feel like they aren’t worthy of the good things they’ve worked hard for.
Originally appeared on Jumping Out of the Fishbowl.