When being Autistic means hiding from the world. 

It’s hard isn’t it ?. 

Hard being you. I know it’s hard being me so I’m presuming it’s hard being you. Sorry if it’s not. Okay, not sorry, that’s not the right word more, envious ?. 

I’m so tired of masking. Tired of many things right now. Life. Yeah that’s a big sucky one right now. But let’s not dwell on that, it brings on dark and disturbing thoughts. 

But masking eh ?. Pretend. Being something you aren’t. Acting. 

I hate it. 

Hate it because it’s draining. It tires me out. Wears me out and, well I hate to be picky here, there are no rewards. Zero. Nada. Nil. 

But it gets you through the day I hear you cry. 

Sure it does that. But at what cost ?. 

What cost to me, this sense of normalcy ?. This facade of neurotypical behaviour ?. 

It’s damaging. It leads to thinly veiled criticism of being “mildly” Autistic or, condescendingly “not that bad”. It’s like I’m faking Autism because I’m faking being neurotypical ?. That would, I suppose, at least make me a genuine fake!. FFS!!! (Which stands for For Fakes Sake)..

There are so many times in the day when I want to break free. I want to yell at a colleague for using their chair to wheel around the office (sensory hell), ram a fist through my totally inadequately powered PC at work (useless, unpredictable and prone to spontaneous meltdowns at inopportune times), either open or close doors as the buildings too warm/close/stuffy/smelly (back to sensory issues), change the horrid ringing tone on the phones (did I mention sensory issues ?), call a colleague a stuck up bitch or send a heartfelt email asking one of our “expert” advisors to never darken my work email account again due to the illogicality of their response to the question “Did you use 100% or 90% ?” (Their response being “100% of the 90%” which I took to be 90% but, on further investigation turned out to be 100% of the 100%!” ). 

I want to be me. More me. 

But I can’t. 

Bits emerge. Real bits because I can’t masquerade all the time. Playing pretend is hard work and deeply unsatisfying, at least to me. And, of course, if I show too much of me then there’s the old lose job because you’ve upset everyone and you’re a liability concern. 

But I always feel I’m hiding. 

There’s nowhere I can be genuinely me. Even at home there are dangers. The danger of not being taken seriously (That’s not Autism, that’s just you being a man) or being too rigid and inflexible (You’re the reason we can’t do nice things. You always say no) or the sarcasm (Look, it’s ten o clock. Isn’t it your bedtime ?). 

Hiding is so tiring. 

But what else can I do ? 

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