Temet Nosce

I first came across the above Latin phrase over 25 years ago in The Matrix. A film I still consider to be my favourite to this day, for its mixture of Sci-Fi and philosophical ideas.

It translates as "Know Thyself". It's a phrase I've come to appreciate more and more over the years since Neo stood in the Oracle's kitchen and had the sign above the doorway and its meaning pointed out to him.

Especially over the past 5 years.

As most of you may be already aware, I've been a self-diagnosed Autistic person for the past 5 years. My journey began due to my sister. She has mental health struggles, and it was suggested to her by her social worker that she should speak to her GP about an Autism referral, as she was showing signs that were consistent with female autism, in which a lot of her mental health issues might be rooted.

So we talked about it, and it was recommended by her social worker that I should probably look into it as well, because if one sibling is diagnosed with autism, it's much more likely other siblings are autistic as well.

So I began researching Autism. The signs of it, what autistic people's lived experience was like, the things they felt, thought and went through, the common symptoms, their struggles, looking into all the aspects of the condition.

It was a light-bulb moment. Every time I read through a new website with a list of common symptoms and difficulties autistic people have, my first thought was: Are they sure? Are these not things everyone goes through?

Turns out, no, not at all.

• Neurotypical people tend not to have difficulties with social interactions to the level autistic people do.
• They don't get overwhelmed by sounds and/or lights, or smells, or taste, or irritated by clothes that are too tight or scratchy or labels poking them in the neck.
• They don't replay social interactions they've had, incessantly, dissecting each sentence wondering if they said the right thing or not.
• They don't repeatedly rehearse conversations they know they're going to have in their head for hours on end prior to making that phone call to the Dentist/Doctor/broadband provider etc etc.
• They don't have trouble multi-tasking, doing several things at once.
• Conversely they don't get hyper-focused on one specific thing for hours on end, only to be angered when they're pulled away from it.
• They also don't get annoyed when they can't do the one or two things they really love doing.
• They don't get upset when their routine is suddenly changed and they have to do something at short notice, usually tying into the previous issue...

Among many, many other traits, these were all eye-opening realisations that I was actually very likely Autistic. And from that point on that's how I viewed myself. These traits were all present in me. They're not things that everyone experiences regularly. They're issues I have, symptoms I exhibit, struggles that I've felt my entire life.

So we both went to our respective GPs, got our referrals, then began our long wait to see about a diagnosis, as the waiting list for Autism assessments on the NHS were over 4 years long at that point...

5 years later...

And yes, that is both factually accurate and a cheeky Avengers Endgame reference 😉

My sister went for her diagnosis in November last year, and 3 weeks later received her phone call to say she was judged to have met the criteria for a successful Autism diagnosis. That's one autistic sibling down, one to go...

Then in December I went for my diagnosis. However, due to Xmas and New Year I had to wait an extra week for my result. I mean I'd waited for 5 years at this point, what was another week?

Agonising. That's what.

Then the phone call finally came a couple of days ago, a much shorter one than I was expecting. I thought it would've been like a 30 minute call, but no, it was done inside of 5 minutes.

Just like my sister, I was also diagnosed as meeting the criteria threshold for a diagnosis.

I am now officially Autistic.

What now?

That's the big question, isn't it?

After I got the diagnosis my head was in a whirl. I didn't really take in much of what the Dr said on the rest of the phone call. I felt a mixture of relief, panic, dull anger, clarity, sadness and umpteen other things which I probably couldn't identify, ironically another symptom of autism.

I will get my full diagnosis letter out in the mail within the next week or two, giving me a full breakdown of their assessment and diagnosis, with any recommendations that they have in terms of support etc, before forwarding that onto my GP.

Personally I don't feel as though I need any support, but then again I have no real concrete idea of what types of support are out there for late-diagnosed autistic adults in Northern Ireland, so I guess I'll see.

I've been living with it my entire life, and 90% of it was lived entirely unaware that I was autistic. For 45 of my 50 years I had zero clue I was anywhere on the spectrum. For a starter when I was growing up in the late 70's through to the early 90's, autism diagnoses were not a common thing.

What was common while I was growing up:

• More effort needed
• Pay more attention
• Fit in
• Don't act up
• Be quiet
• Don't be so cheeky
• Don't be so lazy
• Don't be so weird
• Stop procrastinating

That's how my life as a kid went. Generally I was a quiet kid. I liked school, but was frequently bored by it. It was only the science subjects like Physics or Chemistry that engaged my interest, or Maths.

But the above admonishments forced me to become a version of myself that was more "acceptable" to neurotypical others. To fit in and be more normal. So unknowingly I began a life living a masked existence.

Made worse by my brain's other trait: I have an IQ of 170*, and masking as a high-IQ autistic individual means the ability to mask is increased, but also has increased downsides. The main one of which is worse constant fatigue.

*Measured by British Mensa using an SD of 24. Unsurprisingly I was a member...

"It can obscure the signs, delay diagnosis, and sometimes even convince that they “should” fit in effortlessly"
Daniel Dashnaw

Masking is the term used when an autistic individual modifies their behaviour, either on a conscious or unconscious level, to appear more "normal", to suppress their inherent behaviours and quirks to fit in with the neurotypical majority.

Essentially the normies don't like it when people are different from them, it makes them uncomfortable, so the rest of us are expected to make ourselves uncomfortable to keep them happy.

And as I mentioned above, it carries a weight. Extra energy expended to constantly calculate behaviours, actions, words and wear that invisible mask. It's tiring as all hell.

And so over the course of 45 years I lived my life masking, appearing normal, like a good little boy. A graceful nerdy swan gliding across a lake, with the neurodivergent mess below the water line invisible to everyone. Most of the time including myself.

I've lived this masked existence for so long, I don't even know if I could begin the process of unmasking. Hell, I don't even know who I would even be unmasked. I've not seen that person since I was very young. I've completely forgotten who they are and they'd be a complete stranger to me now.

But the realisation on getting the result that my life could've been different, less stressful, less tiring, less difficult... It makes me sad, and a little bit angry, and that is a common feeling amongst late-diagnosed adults. The life not lived to its fullest.

At least future generations won't have to wait until they're in middle-age like I am, before realising their neurotype might not be typical.

Final Thoughts

I'm officially autistic. And legally speaking, as a result of my diagnosis I'm also now a member of the disabled community. And proud to be both.

So I can now relax, and try to kill the tiny nagging imposter-syndrome driven voice at the back of my head that kept whispering "I'm not really autistic", that I was "lying to myself" etc. I can also begin the process of working out where I go from here. Learn more about others who've had a late-diagnosis and what things they did to help shed that constant anxiety, the burden of constantly masking, and figure out how to improve my mental health as a result.

Books, YouTube videos, podcasts and so on, all by people who were similarly late-diagnosed I think are on the menu over the coming days, weeks and months. All to begin the post-diagnosis journey of self-discovery, and figuring out how to do the singularly most important thing for me right now:

Know Myself.