Exploring the Complexity of Autism and Identity

5 a.m: - Coffee…. check. - Make the bed… check. - Feed the pets… check. - Administer cat medicine… check. - Start the diffuser and play music… check, check.

5:30 a.m: - Review sleep and health data… check. - Read horoscope & daily affirmations… check. - Take a shower… check. - Manage laundry… check. - check, check, check, check, check.

Over the years, I have been told that I am hard to comprehend. People say I can be unrelatable and overly organized, suggesting that my way of functioning is neither "normal" nor sustainable. They often perceive my structured approach as rigid, with expectations that are too high.

I’ve frequently heard that my unconventional existence makes me seem unapproachable and intimidating, which can leave others feeling judged or inadequate.

Yet, that’s never my intention.

Just as I understand that others may not intend to hurt me when they remind me of how unlikable or misunderstood I am for simply being myself.

In the neurodiverse community, many are familiar with the concept of feeling like an alien.

> The sensation of being an alien on a foreign planet, surrounded by others who never truly connect.

Reflecting on my childhood, I recall often feeling like a different entity, believing I simply didn't belong.

I remember lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, counting and tracing the patterns of the asbestos tiles, my mind oscillating between rhythmic stimulations and deep existential musings about my identity and purpose.

> In hindsight, it’s no surprise that feeling extraterrestrial was one of my explanations for my profound sense of alienation.

30 years later, that feeling persists.

At times, I find myself revisiting those alien-like childhood fantasies, playfully pondering my origins and why no one has come to rescue me yet.

> If I were to receive a call from the government or a DNA testing service revealing a connection to extraterrestrial lineage, I would feel validated rather than surprised.

However, as an adult, I describe my existence more as being akin to a robot.

As I transitioned into adulthood, my traits and behaviors have evolved.

By "robot," I don’t mean I’m completely detached or dissociated. I’m not viewing myself from an outside perspective, feeling empty or separate.

> Although, under the right circumstances, that sensation can creep in.

When I refer to "robot," I’m describing the systematic and efficient processing unit that resides in my mind—the structured, compartmentalized engine that drives my thoughts.

I might attribute the chaotic speed of this engine to ADHD, but even with medication, the processing continues—it just slows down to a manageable pace, helping me avoid overwhelm and fostering focused thought instead of chaotic mental noise.

For insights on my ADHD and Autism traits, see my article:

Distinguishing Autism from ADHD

A + B = C

My brain is perpetually engaged in receiving, analyzing, and computing. It’s constantly assessing strategies, considering timing, and anticipating outcomes, establishing routines to replicate successful results.

This can feel like navigating a pre-planned maze, always operating several steps ahead while accounting for potential errors and devising solutions without derailing the final goal.

> If my ADHD is unmedicated, it transforms this daily navigation into an exuberant adventure, with loud music and dizzying spins as I pursue my destination.

This constant systemizing influences nearly every facet of my life—personal, professional, and relational. It serves as the foundational operating system of my existence, functioning like a "Windows" system in a "Mac" world.

If A + B = C…

I encountered an intriguing article from the National Library of Medicine that delves into hyper-systemizing and its relationship with Autism Spectrum Disorders. The piece highlights sensory processing sensitivity and attention to detail as contributing factors to the development of hyper-systemization.

> In essence, neuro-pathways adapt to support a "Windows" system amid a world of "Macs."

Talent in autism: hyper-systemizing, hyper-attention to detail and sensory hypersensitivity

The article outlines that talent in autism manifests in various forms, particularly through the ability to identify repeating patterns in stimuli. This process, known as systemizing, involves analyzing or constructing systems governed by specific rules.

Some examples of systems include: 1. Collectible systems (e.g., categorizing types of stones or wood) 2. Mechanical systems (e.g., understanding a video recorder) 3. Numerical systems (e.g., train timetables) 4. Abstract systems (e.g., language syntax) 5. Natural systems (e.g., weather patterns) 6. Social systems (e.g., management hierarchies) 7. Motoric systems (e.g., sports activities)

It turns out that my intense systematic approach to life is not just a personal quirk but a common trait among autistic individuals.

> Who knew?

For 36 years, I believed I was simply an intense, intimidating, and unrelatable robot-alien.

So, what’s the takeaway?

If you identify as a natural systemizer, a complex thinker, or an awkward, alien-robot-like individual, know that your operating system isn't inherently flawed, unhealthy, or unsustainable. It may very well be the essence of who you are, essential for navigating a world that often misunderstands you.

In conclusion?

The more I explore, the more I recognize my true autistic identity. I still see myself as an alien robot, but now with a greater sense of confidence.

Thank you for reading!

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