Living Undiagnosed

Halfway through 2020 a couple of articles roamed the internet claiming mental illnesses were on the rise. Although true that many were experiencing new anxieties and were going through depressive episodes, for a lot of undiagnosed neurodivergents it was the first time when they had the time and space to unmask – whether consciously or not.

Masking is concealing one’s emotions and presenting another in order to conform to social norms, abuse, or harassment. It’s suppressing symptoms and investing all your energy into appearing neurotypical. Although we may appear to others as if we are functioning “normally,” our brains are using every neuron to conceal any and all neurodivergent traits. Something as simple as making eye contact can be an exhausting endeavor for us.

In my case – and I’m sure for many of you as well – masking has been an unconscious decision and an act of self-preservation my brain made. Recently, my mother commented on how as a child she noticed I was very anxious, and she used to give me things to do to distract me from whatever I was feeling. She then stated that after some time she stopped noticing the symptoms, and even professionals would concur that I was “fine.” Even at a young age, I was able to determine that it was easier to hide than truly speak upon what I was feeling.

And you might be wondering how tiring can masking be – it’s just pretending for a few hours. But it’s more than just pretending. It’s repressing ticks to the point it hurts; hiding stims that help in stressful and uncomfortable situations; putting yourself in stressful social situations because you “have” to; forcing yourself to hide your need for support. The reason for masking is particular to the individual, but we all do this from the natural desire to feel included and to avoid ostracization.

Living undiagnosed leads you to this. To push the limits of your brain in order to conceal your true self. As you grow, many criticize your behavior. Deeming you as lazy or unfocused, making you feel as though no matter how hard you try there’s no way to be “better.” On the negative side I was called destructive, lazy, that I quit things when they got too hard – no one thought that I had bad spatial awareness; that I couldn’t measure the danger of certain things; that my brain yelled at me to do my chores, but my body would not move; or that my hobbies were fleeting moments of interest that came as they went.

What they praised was that I was quiet, smart, a joy to have in class. But no one dared to delve deeper into that. Into the paralyzing social anxiety; the need to mirror behaviors around me so I knew I was in context; practicing facial expressions and hypothetical conversations; the disinterest to socialize unless someone else made the first move. The qualities I adopted to appear neurotypical.

Now, reaching my twenty-second year of life, is the first time I’ve allowed myself to start chipping at that mask – although it is hard to unlearn a lifetime of learned behavior. And as much as I would love to do it by myself, I recognize the need for professional help.

For some mental conditions, there are chemical aids that help subside the symptoms and allow an individual some sense of control over their life. And even though it does help, there are others that require specific types of therapy. For example, autism comes with certain sensory processing problems that can be managed through sensory therapy. The problem comes when these resources are mainly provided to children. Most of the research available for some conditions, such as autism and ADHD, is based on studies done on children – majorly on AMAB (assigned male at birth) children. This, unfortunately, presents the diagnostic difference between AMABs and AFABs (assigned female at birth) – but this is a stand-alone topic to be discussed in another post.

Life can be a mortifying journey when traveling through it undiagnosed. Even scarier when you do receive your late diagnosis and you have to unlearn many harmful self-preserving behaviors. But taking that first step is essential to shift gears toward a life with more control – even if just a little bit more.