So, over the last couple of weeks I talked a lot about some of my experience with hypersensitivity. I think I could talk about it forever, because this is one of the fundamental differences between me and everyone else. Me, a woman with Asperger’s, and everyone else – literally everyone else. Even other people on the spectrum might experience things differently. That’s the great thing everyone knows and yet, most people ignore: we are all different.
And you know, that was my point all along. Being on the spectrum isn’t a disease or being broken, it just means that we experience life in a different way from most people. The world is not structured for everyone, but only for some. If we behave in a way that those around us don’t expect, then we are punished for not fitting in like they do. If everyone is a puzzle piece, our piece is from a different puzzle entirely.
I don’t believe people treat us badly because of any ill intention. I believe they don’t understand and, how could they? They see the world differently from us. But that’s okay too.
The problem is not that we live in a world that isn’t built for people like me, but for a majority of the people, who happens to forget sometimes that the norm isn’t the only way to live. They often say everyone should be treated the same, but how true is that really? If someone is blind, should they not be allowed to bring a guide dog with them? Should they not get that different treatment if it makes life easier for them?
I don’t think that sentence use the right words. It should be: ‘Everyone deserves the same opportunities in life.’. Some people need different treatment, but when we give them that different treatment, they may very well outperform us all. People like me, we need to be treated differently, because then we can do incredible things. We just need someone to give us a chance – we need to be given the same opportunities.
So, I told you about a lot of the issues we face on the spectrum, and you might be thinking it seems highly unlikely that we are able to focus and to exist in the world – maybe you think it’s highly unlikely that we can even work an ordinary job. You might even be thinking that I don’t seem autistic, or that people you know don’t seem autistic. You’d be wrong and let me tell you why.
I’m a mimic.
It’s all about life as mimic. A lot of us, especially women and girls, we mimic. You might know this from my last article, Practice Conversations, but let me just explain briefly.
Those of us who live life as mimics, we realise at some point in our childhood that we are different. We know something isn’t right. Other people probably didn’t see it yet, but we do. The other kids have easy time with things that are constantly a struggle to us. We see ourselves excluded, different, broken, stupid and we blame ourselves. We know we are to blame for be broken. So, we start observing other people. We see who has a lot of friends, and who doesn’t. We analyse it. We learn how to mimic, whether it be body language or words, and we mimic what the popular people do. We lie if we have to, but never to hurt anyone, only because it’s part of the mask. The mask that we create isn’t us, it a lie. It’s a lie we use to blend in.
If you know what to look for, you’ll see it too. Movements are a little too stiff, perhaps? Facial expressions don’t match entirely. The words are correct, but somehow not fluid. It’s like we are wearing someone else’s skin and it doesn’t fit properly, but because people never look too closely, we fool you.
It’s painful. It’s lonely. It’s detrimental to one’s sense of self-worth.
When we put on that mask, we are thinking we are not good enough as we are. Even when you stop wearing that mask, the feeling of not being good enough stays behind.
Now that you know about the hypersensitivity and the practice conversations, you might wonder how we can possible survive doing all that. I can promise you, none of us has it easy. It’s a challenge just staying alive. But what you need to remember is just that. Staying alive is challenge, and most of us don’t realise just how powerful and strong we are inside to be able to just live every day. If we allow ourselves to see just how strong we are, we can do so much more than any of us ever dreamed of.
We have a lot of difficulties with the little things, but we can compartmentalise like no one else. In case of an emergency, I am anything but weakness. I am great addition to the team.
I generally think of my brain as a bit similar to a computer. You give me a set of commands and I perform one task after the other until the end. I don’t add things on my own, because I don’t know how. I do what is asked, and I do it very well, but I can’t just make up random tasks to do as well.
In case of an emergency, my brain switches to emergency mode and the tasks I have do changes to an emergency list. My brain is always constantly observing, analysing and processing what is happening, therefore, in case of an emergency, constantly updating the emergency list.
When I started learning about first aid and stuff like that, I was really bad at it. My working memory is ridiculously bad, and learning new things can seem close to impossible. If I stay with it, however, I know it. I just do. At my last first aid course I was one of the best. I was one point short of a perfect score on the practical exam. I believe it’s because I don’t panic or get worried. I simply switch my brain to emergency mode and follow the list. It’s something I learned do already as a child. I do it every day when I mimic. I observe, analyse and process the information into action.
You see, when you live life as a mimic, you can’t break down in front of people. If you do, you failed. You failed as a mimic and they see who really are. So, we don’t break down. We hold it all in and the moment you close the door behind you or we have escaped to a place where we can be alone, that’s when we break down. It’s like super power. We can hold anything in for a very long time. Of course, we fail once in a while, but in 99% of my meltdowns, I was alone because I held back until no one could see. So, we can be in extreme suffering and you won’t be able to tell.
Why? Because we are mimics and because we are stronger than most believe.
There’s a lot of people on the spectrum out there who are different from us mimics, and those are often the ones you hear about. If you say I don’t seem autistic, it’s because you don’t see it and you don’t see it because I make it so.
I lived my life as a mimic since I was a child. Now, while writing this, I am 31 years old and two years ago I had a major burnout. Being mimic is not easy, it hard and traumatic, and those of us who do survive as mimics should be respected for the intense work they have done to survive. If you meet someone like me, don’t feel sorry for them or refuse to believe they are autistic, you ought to feel a deep sense of respect of the strength they have to survive.
We can’t live as mimics, not really. We survive, but we don’t live.
I have never experienced as immense a breakdown as my burnout and my senses have been even more hypersensitive since it happened. I thought perhaps it would get better, but now I think it won’t. My senses have been heightened and my heart has become more fragile, but mind has become stronger. Not to live as mimic, but to move on from that. I no longer live as mimic, but as me. It’s is scary and lonely, but I feel lighter and my suffering is a lot less.
Now, I can still use my skills from living as a mimic in case of emergencies, and therefore I handle crisis situations very well. In fact, I think a lot of us on the spectrum would do well in careers that are not open to people like me, because we can think clearly and act purposefully in difficult situations that challenge the neurotypical mind.
Sure, if the coffee machine doesn’t work and morning coffee is ruined, I can have a meltdown. But, if you break your leg, I won’t have a meltdown nor will I panic. I will do what I can and what is needed and get help. I might not say the exact comforting thing you want to hear, but I will protect you and help you. And in the end, isn’t it more important than comforting words? If you had to choose between comforting words and proper treatment, what would you choose? I am not saying that neurotypical can’t do proper treatment and comforting words, sure, they can do both and they can do it very well. But, just because we can’t say what you want to hear, or because a coffee machine gives us trouble, it doesn’t mean there aren’t things out there that we do very well indeed.
Life as a mimic is very hard, but it takes an immense force to keep that mask – the illusion of normalcy – up. So, remember that in the future. Give people the respect they deserve and help them let go of the mask most of us cling desperately to. Show them that they are loved and cared for as who they are. That’s what we want. It’s really all we want. A mimic wants love, just like you do.
