A life of difficulty

Have you heard the analogy that neurotypical people have one brain operating system and neurodifferent people another? If I find life difficult, it’s because I’m trying to run Mac programmes on an Apple, or vice versa. There’s a lot in that but it might seem to imply that there are only two types of people whereas of course we’re all different, even while we have some characteristics in common. So I like another analogy I came across this week – that every human life is like a computer game and most people have the “brain type” setting on “easy”, whereas I have and other autistics have it set on “difficult”. If you think about that you can see how transformative it might be if you’ve lived all your life feeling you were a bit of a failure suddenly to discover that you’ve had things much harder than everyone else, so if you failed relative to them, that was only to be expected.

There’s a similar example I like from the very excellent BBC Radio 4 comedy series Cabin Pressure which is written by John Finnemore. It stars Benedict Cumberbatch before he was really properly famous, playing Martin, a hapless pilot. (If you haven’t listened to Cabin Pressure you really must…) Throughout the series Martin tries to live out his dream of being a pilot in MJN Air’s single small plane but despite how hard he tries (and he tries VERY hard) he’s never much good at it. In the final ever episode, we all find out that MJN Air’s plane has a particular reason for being incredibly difficult to fly. So when Martin gets put in a normal plane he’s a really good pilot. I feel like my autistic experience is like that. I can muddle along well enough, but I’m making a huge effort and if things weren’t really difficult I’d actually be doing rather well.

The moment of autism diagnosis is the moment of finding out that your life has been set on “difficult mode” or your plane is really difficult to fly. It doesn’t make you any better at life, but it does give you the opportunity to realise that it’s not that you’re worse than everyone else. You’re the person who always loses the 100m sprint, but everyone else is in trainers and you’re in six inch heels. Or you’re the person who’s always slowest to do the crossword but most people don’t have the clues all jumbled up. Your problems are still there but they suddenly make more sense.

So, if you’re wondering whether an autism diagnosis has any purpose, I can assure you that for me, at least, it does. It shows me that I’m not just an incompetent lazy neurotypical person: I’m actually a perfectly successful autistic person. My outcomes are different because I happen to have an extra difficulty to overcome, and that’s useful to know. I really do feel delivered, at least partly, from the powers of darkness as today’s collect puts it.

This post has been brought to you by the Collect for the Sixth Sunday of Easter:

God our redeemer,

you have delivered us from the power of darkness

and brought us into the kingdom of your Son:

grant, that as by his death he has recalled us to life,

so by his continual presence in us he may raise us

to eternal joy;

through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,

who is alive and reigns with you,

in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

one God, now and for ever.