Masking and Mirroring
In the early months of 2022 I had a meeting with someone who works to place people with health conditions into suitable employment. My various attainments could all be seen on my CV, so many qualifications and certificates as to identify me as a high achiever. On paper, at least. I then started to detail all the struggles I had in education and training to put together such an impressive CV. The success I had in passing exams helped to explain why it took so long for autism on my part to be detected, although not unsuspected. I was always the awkward one. Many teachers thought me slow to catch on or just plain lazy. But even when the time was given to allow me to catch up, and effort on my part demonstrably and undeniably shown, I was still somewhat off the pace. The truth is, as diagnosis has made clear, is that I learn very differently. It’s not a case of pace and application, but of processing information very differently.
And yet, on paper, I ‘made the grade.’ Making it wasn’t so much problem-solved, though, as problem hidden and problem-solving postponed to a later date, when things have reached massive proportions. That’s the problem with avoidance – the problems don’t go away, they assume greater proportions as they spread into ever greater areas of life and being.
When I revealed the age at which I was referred for a diagnosis (54) and the list of achievements I had managed to put to my name along the way, the guy I was discussing future employment with was astounded. He was a psychology graduate. He knew the demands of academic success, the mental as much as the intellectual, and wanted to know how on Earth I had managed to get so far, and achieve so much, without being detected.
The glib answer would be to say that I survived socially by masking and mirroring. But the truth is far more complicated than that. I survived, just about, by using academic success to postpone facing and solving the severe problems I knew I had with socialisation. University and research were – and are – ideal ways of putting off social engagement and responsibility. I was always able to avoid social commitment as a result of always working towards some distant academic goal – ‘A’ levels (2 years), degree (3 years), Masters’ (2 years), PhD (forever). And all the time in between these courses and qualifications there was the time spent recovering from past study and preparing for future study. It’s not that my skills at masking and mirroring were world-class, but that they were just enough to allow me to get by in the context of a much greater evasion of social life. Because the brutal fact is that even within that academic setting, others were well aware of my different, distant, and detached persona, my ‘awkwardness’ in communication and interaction, my reluctance to engage in the normal exchanges in academic debate, my tendencies to inflict monologues on the group whenever I did finally speak. I learned what was expected of me in various social situations and performed the various roles adequately enough to get by, the mountainous hard work I invested in all those lonely hours spent alone studying earning me the high grades that permitted those monitoring to give me the benefit of the doubt. I learned what was expected of me, I learned my lines and my roles, and I performed as an actor would perform. Despite a succession of top grades in a succession of courses, I always felt something of a fraud. I knew that this public identity I had assumed was not my real persona. I could see what others expected of me in various social situations, I understood what ‘society’ wanted of me, and so I learned to mask my difficulties and mirror others’ demands. And in getting the grades, I also got others’ benefit of the doubt. But the fact that there was doubt – and there was – meant that my masking and mirroring were a necessary but not sufficient cause of my survival. My greatest skill of all is evasion, putting off the moment of confrontation with inner demons. Avoidance and postponement are second nature to me. You can spend your entire life trying to outrace your demons. But you will never win that race. They’ll catch up with you one day, and in normal circumstances sooner rather than later. The fact that I remained undetected until well into my fifties is remarkable because, in light of diagnosis, I am as clear a case
as there could be. The road to diagnosis started with a succession of health issues, beginning with the diabetes in 2014. I then suffered a massive heart attack Christmas 2016. This was all a mystery to me. I had not seen a doctor since leaving school and would boast of never having taken so much as a headache tablet. I considered myself at least fairly fit, doing 500 press-ups a day. I determined to get myself super fit, and pretty much succeeded. I hike miles in the country, up mountains, at altitude, still play football. And yet the heart attack symptoms returned, in 2018, 2020, and 2022. There is no mystery to resolve here. The problem is not one of physical fitness, and all my immense
efforts with respect to diet and exercise serve only to keep me going. It is the relentless stress and anxiety grace of having to cope with the demands of ASC that is physically exhausting, causing feelings of extreme tiredness and despair. You can mask, mirror, evade, and avoid as best you can. I was world class at these things. But the bitter irony is that the better you are at masking and mirroring, evading and avoiding, the bigger the price you will likely pay in terms of mental and physical health.
