Finding out at age 40 that I am actually autistic

Content warning:
This post contains content that some readers may find disturbing. Please engage in self-care as you read this post.

Part of this post was first published in a previous blog on World Mental Health Day on 10 October 2022. The contents have been updated to reflect my thoughts after receiving my autism diagnosis in February 2023.

Anxiety, my old friend, seems to have a life of its own. It selfishly decides as and when to take centerstage to my being. It is the protagonist of my life story, the story of my mental health deterioration from 2020, up till I received my autism diagnosis on 22 February 2023.

As I courageously move forward in my personal and professional life, the past years' setbacks filled my days with doubt and I questioned my ability to perform tasks effectively (imposter syndrome, performance anxiety). My new boss once called me a rockstar twice in a day with regards to my quick turnaround on an ad hoc task. I quickly played down my contributions in a social media post, telling friends that I felt more like a rockfish - for its tendency to hide among rocks. I shy from the spotlight. Sometimes I wonder my reluctance to accept praise is due to my Asian upbringing.

News reports can cause a 180 degree turn to my day. Recent articles about women in abusive marriages and soaring cancer deaths are just some of my triggers. I had lost sleep over agonizing circumstances from the past, feeling paranoid that they might reoccur (post-traumatic stress, gaslighting, guilt-tripping, emotional and financial abuse)... and that everyday I'm just setting myself up for failure once again.

I craved for all sorts of comfort food. After cancer treatment, I put myself on a strict plant-based diet initially. Now I caved in and starting indulging in everything I forbid myself to eat. Every time the weighing machine alerts me of a deviation from my ideal weight goal, I began to fret about my (ailing?) physical health. My unhealthy stress-eating diet of late caused my eczema to flare, and full display will be my harmful self-stimulatory behavior (stimming) of scratching till my scalp and fingers bleed.

Not looking and feeling my best resulted in me cancelling my physical attendance at numerous events... but of course, my social anxiety had to play a part too. I called myself a painfully shy introvert in my previous travel blog. I was critical of how I looked and how I acted in the public eye. No one knew how many times the past events would be analyzed over and over again in my mind. That person looked at me odd that day. Did I say something wrong? Could I have said this better? (scripting) That person violated my boundaries with a cheeky smack on my butt. Why couldn't I scream out loud about that inexcusable behavior when I was raging inside so much that it hurts? (situational mutism)

This is me, for too many years.

When the world was afraid of Covid-19

I didn't join an online cancer support community as I was made to feel like an imposter. The doctors and some acquaintances seemed to be laughing at my fears when it was only DCIS with microinvasion. If it was such a small deal, then why did I need 2 surgeries, numerous tests and 4 weeks of radiotherapy?

I was paranoid of losing my job. In a long loveless marriage, my career was the only thing that kept me going. Already I did not possess the same skillset in my team of specialists then. I was afraid that anyone would use my cancer episode to turn against me, to call me weak or useless.

I returned to work immediately after the hospitalization leave ended. I was already checking my emails on and off when I was supposed to be recuperating.

I was worried about taxation with the extended stay in my home country as my country of employment was not Singapore during that period. I was concerned about my rental apartment overseas and asked my landlord to help clear out the fridge. I checked in with the embassy and authorities and paid close attention to the news for months.

I became one of the first few who flew back to the closed borders, just for the sake of continuing my employment on site.

I lost a colleague on the day I returned to work after hospitalization leave. I lost my boss on the day I returned to work in the country. I felt like a jinx.

Things soon became great with my new boss and colleague. For once, I felt valued and belonged, for being who I am. I wasn't made to feel any less.

Sadly, the good times did not last.

Changes in senior management. Losing the big boss that brought me back to the organization.

Family quarrels felt like no one cared for me when I was all by myself overseas. Asking for a divorce. Losing my identify as someone's wife and subsequently a home owner, identities I held for more than a decade. Not asking for anything more but my statutory contributions to be refunded for the apartment, only to be called stupid by the people I confided in.

Re-entering the dating scene after 14 years. Trying online dating for the first time. Scammers and sexual predators. Discussions of children and infertility.

Unexpectedly burst into tears on my first day of retreat when asked "How are you doing?" Feeling lost when asked to leave a video testimonial, said I would do it but I didn't.

Returning to Singapore permanently in view of health management. Living under my parents' roof (and supervision!) once again as an adult.

Started a new job remotely at a dream company. Happy for a while until my health deteriorated. Squeezing (more than) 5 days of work into a 3-day part-time work week. Endless meetings. Teammates burning out.

All of these within a span of months

I was undergoing so much, but I could face the world with no expression of anxiety. On the inside, I thought I was going crazy.

I could no longer confide in most people I thought I could trust after the unkind labels. My intelligence was questioned. My fears and pains were downplayed. I was repeatedly gaslighted... Some people seemed nice but either out of sympathy or wanted something from me. And there were those people who wanted to hear more just to keep themselves entertained during the pandemic. I was tired of re-telling my story, re-experiencing the trauma again and again.

I became so fearful of others' intentions. I restricted my social circle. I tightened the privacy settings of my social media accounts. I deleted myself from chat groups. I removed people from my life and isolate myself as the last act of self-preservation.

Post-pandemic job security

Many of us thought that life after the lifting of Covid-19 restrictions would simply mean returning to life as it was before. No masks. No social distancing. But little did I know that returning to a physical workplace on a hybrid arrangement would become torturous for me.

After taking a career break for a few months, I started my current role in July 2022. The unfamiliarity of going into an uncertain environment is no easy feat. I could not recognize most colleagues, partly because I'm new to the organization, and partly because I have minor prosopagnosia (face blindness). Unless I interact frequently with someone, high chances I am pretending to remember the person I am talking to while I try to recognize their face, voice, attire, etc. I may recap conversations made in passing, just to awkwardly show that we have something in common. And to add, I was still afraid of people because I don't know who I can trust.

I actually didn't realize...

I have been masking unconsciously all this while until I had to return to the workplace once a week. Masking means I try to bring a socially accepted version of me when I'm in the public eye. I would try to maintain forced eye contact, keep a stiff smiling face, engage in unenjoyable small talk... and all that takes up a lot of my energy which can otherwise be deployed to do my best work.

Loud chatter makes me feel confused and unsafe, especially when there are many conversations taking place at the same time. Sometimes I get pulled unknowingly into one when I just want to quickly get my work done for the day and leave as soon as possible. Overhead lighting, food smells, etc.. there are so many distractions to my concentration, sometimes so overwhelming that it triggers a migraine that can last a few hours to days (sensory overload). I remembered how I would prefer to study and work late into the night when all was peaceful and the weather was cool.

I guess a benefit for working in an office is that colleagues would remind me when it's time for lunch. When I am working remotely, I will be so focused till I forget it's lunch time unless there are sharp pains in my stomach (hyperfocus). Nowadays I set alarms on my phone to break my concentration to go grab food or for an hour of self-care.

And if you're not living under a stone, you've most likely heard of the Great Resignation (or rather, the Great Exhaustion), Quiet Quitting and many other names for the anti-work movement. As a human resources practitioner, no doubt talent attraction and retention are frequently on my mind, and it does seem ironic to me that I have anti-work sentiments. My job-hopper resume where no stints go beyond 2.5 years have brought me to many well-known companies in various industries.

Why couldn't the past organizations retain me for long? Did they fail in operationalizing their talent strategies? Who promised that they will groom you with relevant work, only to be tasked to proof read and fix the formatting of a policy document that you were supposed to be involved in formulating? Who takes a quarter of a year to keep telling you that you're their chosen one but they're simply just not offering you the employment contract for the same role you've been working with them in the past 9 months?

Speaks volumes, doesn't it?

Maybe there was something inherently wrong with me.

Self-doubt damaged me.

In all honesty, I found relief in this new global phenomenon. I was not alone trying to thrive in the world. And soon, I realize this world is one where the norms of yesteryear no longer define my present.

How I discovered I was actually autistic

I first got curious about autism when I was handling benefits operations in two workplaces. Employees with autistic children raised that there was a lack of group insurance coverage for autism care. At that time, it gave me the wrong impression that autism is a treatable condition, but probably too expensive to be insured. After my Netflix binge on Extraordinary Attorney Woo and The Good Doctor (both Korean and English versions!), I began to think that all autistic adults are able to memorize lots of data and make super connections in their minds (savant syndrome). Misconceptions and stereotypes.

In late 2022, I battled with increasingly difficult emotions, and often burst into tears when no one was looking. I could be triggered by someone unintentionally misplacing my belongings from their usual location. It could be by a text message which I sense a gaslighting moment. It could be someone's social media post making me feel inferior because I don't fit in or feel "belonged". It could be anything.

When I managed to calm down and logically dissect my situation, everything happening then was manageable. In fact, I am blessed with many happy things that I am grateful for. I have survived the tough events of the past 3 years. I don't need further cancer surgeries, radiotherapy sessions nor be on medication. For once, after a very long time, I could save money without fear that anyone I trust would steal from my savings again. While I no longer own or can afford to rent my own apartment, I have a shelter over my head in 3 different places in Singapore. And after what seems to be a million and one Tinder chats and first dates with strangers, I finally met someone kind and would be happily remarried in a few weeks. My work contract was successfully renewed and my boss was supportive of my honeymoon leave plans. My colleagues seemed happy to have me around longer.

But why was I feeling this way?

These nagging fears and confusion piled up to unprecedented levels. I don't remember feeling as bad when being wheeled into the operating theatre. At age 39-40, starting over made me feel like an underachiever. My past achievements and successes were shelved aside. I hid my daily internal turmoil and proceed to present myself with a smile l, that I was okay, that things were going good...

There come a time I decided I couldn't go on like this any longer. I needed answers.

I wanted to know if I was feeling blah like everyone else after the pandemic. Was I undergoing something normal that's happening to everyone? Am I having wedding blues or burnout due to the increasing demands from our families and friends? Do I need to be "fixed"? Do I have a mental health condition that can be treated with medication and therapy, although I didn't check with all the symptoms of conditions I read online? Or do I have a neurological condition since birth that could explain to me my difficult experiences all these years?

I was determined to have an answer so I would know what to seek help on. I don't want to be reading about everything and anything that seems to coincide with some symptoms. I did all the free online screening tests I could find. And the test results would confirm my suspicions. Autism.

But the years of conditioning and gaslighting meant I started to second guess my self-diagnosis. What if I'm an imposter? What if people don't believe what I say? When I mentioned to some people I trust about seeking a clinician's opinion, they were quick to ask why I would do that, and were certain I am not autistic.

My mental health deteriorated

I couldn't sleep. 1 or 2 hours at most, and I had to be up latest by 9am sharp to start the work day. I started to struggle with day-to-day tasks. I couldn't concentrate on the data work I enjoy. I was constantly hungry and would forget if I had taken lunch. I became easily startled as it seemed the voices of family members were at their loudest volumes.

The turning point was when I couldn't bring myself to open the front door to water our plants outside. Our plants brought me so much joy. The precious peppermint plants that I successfully repotted were drying up, but I couldn't bear to unlock the metal gate and step outside. I was locking myself in. I fear sooner or later I would be the one personally responsible for ruining my marriage and losing my job.

I searched for a clinician psychologist for an adult autism diagnosis. If it was not autism, then at least the clinician could tell me what it is or recommend me something.

After weeks of interviews and assessments, I was professionally diagnosed as autistic level one on 22 February 2023.

Learning about autism

When I search online on neurodiversity, much is from the western world. Similar to fingerprints, no one mind is alike. No autistic person is alike either (that's why it's called a spectrum condition).

The new knowledge of my autism diagnosis has helped me to be more conscious of my difficulties and to practice self-compassion. I am often too critical of myself. I am now able to better understand the challenges I faced thus far, and am learning what adjustments I need to thrive in certain environments.

An important thing that I have to learn is to enforce boundaries, how to better protect myself from worrying situations where I had been easily taken advantage of. For example, how I should be reacting instead of feeling numb and giving in when my boundaries have been violated.

While I didn't join any communities for breast cancer, I am now part of various online groups. It has been very comforting and encouraging to learn about the similar and dissimilar experiences from actually autistic voices.

Not feeling undermined

It is important to me, that despite the various labels, I continue to believe in myself, that I am an intelligent and independent person. I am still very much the capable person who is able to do her work well, prepare delicious meals for her family, and lovingly tend to our pets and plants (except on bad mental health days).

One of my first managers told me that honesty (vulnerability) can be a double-edged sword. Yet my university lecturer shared with me that integrity is the most valued virtue to find in a workplace, and my subsequent life experiences agree with that. As it becomes increasingly difficult to camouflage my actual self in favor of social acceptance, I prefer to live authentically as myself, as a whole-being.

"I would remove shame from the mental-health narrative. If we all work within ourselves and our communities, workplaces, and families to expunge feelings of shame about mental health, we could change everything overnight." - Poppy Jaman

Not all disabilities are visible. Many neurodivergent adults such as myself try to mask their behavior to be socially accepted. You also can't tell from my physical appearance or demeanor that I had cancer or I am autistic (it took me 40 years to find out that my brain is not neurotypical!). It may be unsafe for some individuals to disclose their conditions or advocate for themselves, for example due to harmful stereotypes and fear of discrimination. But there are many of us with invisible conditions who genuinely need accommodations in our workplaces and public places so that we can do our jobs or even safely transport ourselves to the office.

It is my hope that, through awareness and education, there would be acceptance and appreciation about our differences, hence less stigma surrounding neurological conditions, mental wellness and mental illnesses.

If there's one lesson we can learn from surviving the pandemic, it is to be kind to others. We never know what is truly happening to an individual as there can be so many things going on in this frantically fast paced world. People may choose to reveal just a small aspect of themselves, and we should not assume that is not representative of their whole being. And just like me, some people may be smiling through the unseen pains.

Where there are differences, let us be kind.

Sometimes it helps to think that none of us are perfect.