“Autism, you? No way!”
As an adult, why breaking the news to close ones can be more distressing than accepting the diagnosis yourself
Over the course of the past six years, I was first diagnosed with ADHD and some time later with Asperger’s Syndrome. The following days, I went through various states in the same way many affected persons described it: Skepticism, denial, realization, and finally relief.
Letting family and friends know about your condition, though, is a challenge on its own.
It was a great relief, and I was certain that my family and close friends would feel the same.
It was very clear to me that something about me was “different” compared with others. Since earliest childhood days, there were so many things I had difficulties with. Seemingly succinct activities could wreak havoc in my own little, meticulously organized world. But still I wasn’t entirely convinced of this ADHD/Autism spectrum stuff, and I refused myself of being “labelled”. The more I researched, though, the stronger grew the feeling of finally having found “my” diagnoses, finally having an explanation for many of the woes I had to go through, and still go through.
As my neurologist provokingly put it during the assessment: “Did no one actually take notice that you’re a little… nuts?” I replied: “I always knew that I am, I just never knew which brand of nuts.”
Learning the “why” was a great relief, and I was certain that my family and close friends would feel the same, once they were being educated about this important insight.
Far from it.
“You were a perfectly normal child!”
When I told my family, they said something I should keep hearing many times: “Autism, ADHD, you? No way! You were a perfectly normal child!” Sure was! Just a bit shy, as in: I never really wanted to leave my safe home. Just a bit of an introvert, as in: I never actively engaged with other children, rather watched them from a safe distance. Just a little whirlwind, as in: I could never focus on something, my attention bouncing from one thing to another like fireflies on cocaine, never being able to sit still, and so much more.
My school reports clearly reflected the above, as did reports from my then physician. Now, as an adult, I underwent extensive, hours-long testing by specialists to gain certainty.
And my family just plainly rejected the fact: I have a condition that’ significantly impacting my life. I didn’t see that coming.
How much of a different life could I have led?
Why can this be possibly devastating for an adult who got diagnosed just recently?
The most important point to note is compensation strategies.
In order to get along with life, adults were forced to develop workarounds over time. That means, we learn how to hide some of the ramifications of ADHD and/or Asperger’s, explore ways to live undercover in every little detail we feel divergent from others. And we do so every day, for years, even for decades. Eventually learning what exactly made and still makes life so hard, that this “something” has a name and there is help available, is rising questions: Why wasn’t this noticed earlier? How much of a different life could I have led, if I was diagnosed during childhood? How much trouble, ruined friendships, failed job interviews could have been avoided if I just had known earlier?
With many affected persons, thoughts like these invoke grief for a life how it could have been, anger about potential fulfillment and happiness they have missed, and experiences they never made. If a person in this state of mind now turns to you, opening their heart and seeking your support, is denial really what you would deem a proper reaction?
All it takes is being understanding, and comforting a soul that is hurt and disoriented on how to proceed. Your support can make a great difference.
