Notes From A Tricky Brain

According to the National Autistic Society “at school, autistic girls may be more likely to be part of a friendship group and this could be a reason that teachers don’t notice their differences. They may also be missed if their academic achievement masks difficulties they are facing in other areas.”

I wasn’t lucky enough to know I had autism while I navigated my adolescent years. But that was more than 20 years ago, so I doubt I would have gotten much support if I was aware of why I felt like I was crawling inside my own skin.

My entire secondary school career, I knew I was “different”. I had few friends, and those I did “hang around” with weren’t the sort of people I could count on to have my back (I found that out on more than one occasion). These feelings of not belonging were perpetuated in their seeming transparency, because people caught on and I became a target in my final two years at school. I never uttered a word of it to anyone until years later; I just put up with it all. In truth, I blamed myself for being unable to conform to the things my peers were doing; getting dressed up, doing my hair and makeup, going “out”, developing an interest in having any sort of intimate relationship. I just wanted to be at home. Today, I can say that – “I just want to be at home”, or “I want to go home now” and those (carefully chosen) around me accept it just fine. Back then it was just another thing that made me odd.

Of course I know now that I was masking; I was getting up every morning, pushing my emotions all the way down to my boots, and catching the bus to school. I put my head down, worked hard and got decent grades. I would continue to operate like this until my mid-twenties.

I formed an attachment to a couple of teachers, both what you might consider “mother figures”, in that they were about the age of my own mum. I used to hover around after class, pretending to be slow in finishing my work, and pray that they would just ask “are you OK?”…but they never did. I would use the library instead of the busy common room and I would attend short masses at lunch times, thinking maybe I’d find some peace in religion (I never did; in fact my relationship with my religion is still something I grapple with).

I never recall being asked if I wanted to attend university, it was just assumed on the basis that I was a high-achiever in terms of academics. One of the guidance teachers wrote me a glowing reference, warning those who may read it something along the lines of “do not be fooled by the calm, quiet exterior because underneath lies a fierce determination to succeed”. To take that out of context, I really, really wish that someone wasn’t fooled back then.

As a side note, there were certain, perhaps more extraneous, factors that made my time at school difficult. I had a Catholic education, and was once told by a NUN that “no one likes people like you”. What had I done? I’d scored 100% on an essay for my Higher Geography. Way to kick a person when they’re down, missionary of God! Of course, I added this mostly for humour, but it’s stayed with me for more than 20 years so maybe it did do damage...?!