At the end of April, I found out about a late-diagnosed autistic woman in her 20s who was also diagnosed with PTSD. What caught my attention was that she struggled with similar career indecision as I did at the same age. In our next session, my counselor screened me for PTSD, and the results were favorable. This made me suspect that my late autism diagnosis was traumatic, and I was in denial of it.
Based on my experience as a suicide survivor, I know denial is unhealthy to ignore. So, from June to mid-July, I coped with my late diagnosis by writing my Autism & Denial Series. I have not been the same since. Coping with the denial set off a chain reaction of seeing autistic life more clearly because I had unmasked the truth. For most of my life, I was helpless to stop my failure to integrate into society because my autism was ignored.
My career indecision and inconsistent work history ruined my employability. I failed an untold number of job interviews because autism was not accommodated. I lost my last job for behavior I later learned was due to autism. Without knowing I was autistic, I failed at dating as well. So I do not have a relationship that could provide a dual income for support or meaningful companionship. The damage is permanent.
My counselor asked if I was angry that experts and healthcare providers had failed me. I looked her in the eye and gave her a silent expression filled with ire and sorrow. I am struggling more each week because I see the trauma of my ruined life everywhere I look. Giving up is easier, but it would waste irreplaceable experiences with autism. Instead, I am going to prove that I should be hired to resolve our lack of integration into society.
This unconventional approach to employment begins by sharing what I have learned. I was scrutinizing generic mental health services when I realized an incident from two years ago should be re-evaluated in a broader context. On August 31, 2021, I was unintentionally put at grave risk of self-harm while under the care of your services. In a pre-scheduled meeting, a health care and social service provider accused me of misconduct.
One of the supervisors from your facility was present but did not act to safeguard my mental health. As a result, it quickly triggered a suicide episode before I left the parking lot. Without my known autism or suicide background being prioritized by my care provider, I was lucky not to get hurt. In hindsight, I have learned key lessons about understanding autism, improving safety, and mental healthcare.
Now that I see my autistic life more clearly, I have made additional observations. If you recall, last September I gave my presentation on autism resource needs. I realized that autism neurologically affects my thinking and has a big impact on my life. Then, in November, I nearly discontinued counseling because I felt that my thinking was incompatible with my counselor’s approach. She insisted that I try the counselor I have now.
As it turned out, this counselor was instantly more supportive because she actively encouraged advocating for my autistic needs. But why was this so helpful compared to what I had before? Until two weeks ago, I was masking too much to see the pattern. Modern mental healthcare must not accommodate an autistic person’s actual thinking. Why else would I consistently conflict with the way I was expected to function?
More becomes clear when you look at my life in general. My diagnosis in 2019 was the culmination of trying to figure out why I had an employment decision-making problem since before high school graduation. I had various jobs. Yet I was plagued by such a strain on my mental health that I feared I would relapse into suicide. Meanwhile, despite my best efforts, I did not integrate into society soon enough.
The pattern of incompatibility persists if autism is taken seriously. Case management cannot compensate for my monotropic interests. Psychiatry tries to medicate my natural thinking. It took my third counselor for me to realize why I had made no progress after four years of trying. I am expected to function like someone who is not autistic, while I struggle and mask my incompatibility with neurotypical care and employment practices.
Using meticulous observations, four-dimensional pattern recognition, and imbalanced higher intelligence, I must conclude that healthcare services and unaccommodated employment practices are affecting our ability to integrate into neurotypical society. For example, I requested accommodations with the talent acquisition application process and was ignored. Not too long ago, people in wheelchairs were treated the same way.
Thanks to the director of the local Center for Independent Living, I was recently reminded about the importance of the Americans with Disabilities Act. If you needed to use a wheelchair, you were not allowed into buildings or hired for jobs. That is similar to the Civil Rights era. I told him about this presentation to my health care provider. What he said shook me to my core. The fight for equal opportunity is not over.
If I had not been masking my neurodivergence for so long after failing to integrate into society, I would have realized this sooner. What else can explain being a capable 41-year-old who is still struggling other than the lack of and need for accommodations? Society is designed for your neurotype. So I recognize that the Double Empathy Problem influences your judgment. But I did ask for support. I was ignored. Case in point.
Back in April, your superiors regarded me as “an advocate” they did not want. Did they stop to consider that I know divergent thinking because I have been autistic all my life? We know what autism is like because it affects our lives every day. You cannot get this kind of primary-source experience unless you are autistic. You got to where you are because you are good at what you do. Autism will always be our specialty.
My parents raised me to work hard, be objective, and use critical thinking. So I would not ask for support unless there was proof it was actually needed. I have observed many autistic people from virtually all walks of life with similar time-sensitive needs as me. We also have the highest disability unemployment rate. This cannot be possible unless rigid social structures and a lack of support are keeping us from prospering.
Fortunately, you have a golden opportunity. I can advance existing autism research, but only if I am employed and supported in a workplace with efficient accommodations. I choose to persist and confront these formidable challenges because people are counting on a leader to get their needs addressed. We can help improve the quality of autistic lives in my lifetime. Where to go from here is forward by working together.
I am not the only late-diagnosed autistic adult whose societal integration has suffered from developmental setbacks. There are also minority demographics comprising millions of people who are suffering far more than I have. We need our issues to be addressed. Not five years from now. Not after the next fiscal year. Not after the next quarterly budget meeting. Now. Lives and livelihoods depend on my success.
We just want to live happy and fulfilling lives. Not to struggle with masking the non-confrontational aspects of our neurodivergence at the cost of our mental health. Not to be fired from jobs for behavior we might not know is from undiagnosed autism. Not to be discriminated against or have our reputation ruined. Not to have our legitimate needs dismissed as if we are a lower class of people. We are human beings.
It is time to bring the Americans with Disabilities Act into the intellectual age for all autistic people. This care provider has the chance to help make that happen. Thank you very much for your time and consideration. I am more than my autism, but I am me because of it.
Sincerely,
Jim Irion
Autistic Primary Source
Writer, Presenter
