the things i do
how neurodivergence makes me not an idiot
I’ve had a lovely but busy couple of weeks. Last week, I saw the wonderful Trudy Ward talk about neuroinclusion at AOTB. Every time I listen to someone talk about neurodivergence, I realise how much of my life has not been me being an idiot.
Trudy described the lack of consistency that drives others mad and how it drives her mad, too. That she would love to be the amazing version of herself all the time, but it takes so much energy from her that it’s impossible to stay there. I understand this, and maintaining a sustainable pace has always been a difficult thing for me to do. In my middle-aged years, I am finding myself recognising when my energy is depleted and I try to make restoring it a priority. I’m learning to put the FOMO away when I’m drained; next is to put it away before I am drained.
I travelled to London this week with a list of paperwork I needed to bring with me. When I was sitting in the office waiting to deliver the paperwork, I realised I had left it in the West Country. Thankfully, my partner could mail it to me before I returned home. The day I went in again to deliver the paperwork, I was so singularly focused on the task that I forgot the documents that gained me entry into the building I was going to. I had to sit in the foyer and wait for someone to turn up who could verify I was allowed entry because I had arrived two and a half hours before the office opened. Whilst sitting there, I realised I had forgotten to eat breakfast. I spent the time contemplating the impression I was making and that if I were these people, I would already think quite low of me.
When I interviewed to work at HSBC six or so years ago, I was about to leave the house when I had a conversation with my partner about the time of the interview. While talking, I confused myself by switching between 24-hour and 12-hour time formats. Although I needed to leave at the point I was leaving, I then believed my interview was an hour later than it was, so I didn’t leave the house for another half hour. When I popped out of the tube at the other end, I had an angry recruiter calling me to find out where I was as I was now very late for the interview. I made up an excuse on the spot (because, at this time, I didn’t realise this was an effect of my neurodivergence) that was clearly untrue. He rearranged the interview for me later in the day. I got the job.
When I’m buying socks, I always avoid the ones with writing on them, especially if that writing is the day of the week. I don’t understand how you can buy socks that you can only wear once in seven days with the overhead that comes with ensuring you’re putting on the correct socks or wearing socks that aren’t meant to be worn on that day. As you can see, I can confuse myself enough without having items of clothing lie to me. I bought a pack of socks a couple of years ago that had a nice stripey pattern on. When I got them home, I was horrified to find out they were day-of-the-week socks. I have since given these away, unworn.
When any of these stories are considered in isolation, most people will be able to relate to and have a similar story of their own. It’s important to understand that the behaviours we weirdos exhibit are human behaviours; we are human, after all. What makes life difficult for us is the amount of times these behaviours come and smack us in the face. No matter how many systems I put in place, there’s always another opportunity right around the corner to live another moment that’s going to make a great story for me to tell in the future.