"You Must be High Functioning!" I Don't Have High-Functioning Autism - I am Autistic

People often think I'm doing better than I am because I keep my problems to myself, and people don't notice or mention my struggles until they inconvenience them.

PsychCentral says, "High-functioning autism means that a person is able to read, write, speak, and handle daily tasks, such as eating and getting dressed independently. Despite having symptoms of autism, their behavior doesn't interfere too much with their work, school, or, relationships."

However, to receive an Autism diagnosis (at all), one must have "symptoms" that "cause clinically significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of current functioning," according to The American Psychiatric Association's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, Fifth Edition (DSM-5) - the book used to diagnose Autism and many other types of NeuroDivergence in the United States. 

Being Autistic, even though I am "high functioning" (according to some), significantly limits my career choices. I do well enough in an appropriate environment where I'm' adequately supported. Still, there are many jobs I cannot do (especially if the job descriptions are too broad and the employers are not flexible). 

I am "high functioning" (some say) because I wasn't diagnosed until I was 29, and I "made it through school" because my "behavior" must not have interfered "too much with school" even though I was always in trouble for my "behavior" and was referred for learning disability testing (and my guardians refused it) when I was in elementary school.

Some people say I'm "high functioning" because I'm in a long-term relationship (even though my partner is also Autistic). Some will say it is because I have a few friends (who I struggle to keep up with and only see or speak to a few times each year). 

They don't know that I spent the first part of my life isolated, unable to tell if people liked me, and unsure how to make friends or share myself with the world, or that new people still make me nervous, and the few friends I do have now do most of the work staying connected to me (because I struggle to work friendships into my life around my hyperfocused interests). My friends are patient because I can be distant and can't take that personally.

I'm "high-functioning" in the eyes of strangers who don't understand Autism because I can hide my struggles from the world (not inconveniencing other people with my problems or pain). 

Because I don't ask for help, I get all the help I ask for (none).

Ironically, the more I hide my struggles, the more they hold me back, as keeping all my pain inside traps me with that pain and no remedy for it. 

If I could ask for help, I could do much better, but when I try to ask for help, people tell me I don't need help because I am "high functioning" and not Autistic "enough" to "need help," not like an Autistic who is "lower functioning" in their eyes.

"High functioning" is a label that means, to many people, "Autism-Lite" or Autism that is "functioning highly" (all things considered).

If a machine is functioning is high functioning, it is performing well, but people are not machines and can only thrive when they are adequately supported. Unfortunately, due to social stigmas around pain, struggle, and asking for help, many people (regardless of NeuroType) will feel pressure to hide their difficulties and problems from outsiders.

Whenever someone has called me "high functioning," it comes right before they are about to dismiss my needs or tell me I'm "not Autistic enough" to ask for help or to share my experiences as an Autistic Person.

When people hear that someone or something is "functioning," they think of "working or operating in a proper or particular way" (because that is what the literal definition of functioning is). 

When people hear someone is "high functioning," they assume we're functioning well (or highly) compared to other Autistics and non-autistic peers (even if that's not true). 

When I tell people I'm not performing to the best of my abilities and what I need to perform better, non-autistic gatekeepers deny my requests because of the expectations that I'm functioning "highly (for an Autistic Person"), capping my performance far below what I would be capable of with proper support. 

Once I tell someone I'm Autistic (because expectations are meager for Autistic People), people suddenly become impressed with my unimpressive accomplishments. It's then determined that how I'm "functioning" now is "enough" (especially considering my Autistic brain). 

The support I need is then denied because "high functioning" Autistics "have Autism" that "doesn't interfere too much" with our "work, school, or, relationships." Therefore, it is assumed that I need and deserve no help or support (even when I ask for it and explain how having support could improve my life or ability to perform).

"You've been able to do your job until now without support" (even though I was calling out from work once a week, was sick, wasting away, and had lost over 20 lbs (because I couldn't eat or keep food down), and was contemplating driving my car off a bridge because my situation felt so hopeless). 

"You must be very high functioning" was supposed to be a compliment, but it wasn't. It was a denial. 

To receive my label through medical channels, I had to be in a crisis where my NeuroDivergences were at odds with my life goals, as they had been in elementary school (the first time I was almost assessed for developmental disabilities). 

At the time, my NeuroDivergent struggles had become an inconvenience to my teachers and the school system's ways of teaching everyone uniformly. Instead of considering that not all learners would absorb information the same way, outliers (like me and many others) were punished, medicated, and segregated into "special education" classrooms, further alienating and isolating us from our peers. 

In my journey through the school system, I spent time in special education, general education, and even gifted and talented education (depending on the class), and none of it was suitable for me. 

Special education classes had low expectations, and my peers mocked me for being sent away to a "special" classroom. Many "SPED" teachers treated us poorly, barking orders and talking down to us (though some of their aids were amazing). 

Because of my spikey skills profile (common in Autistics and other NeuroDivergent People), general education classes were also a poor fit for me. 

I am an all-or-nothing person. I don't tend to be "average" at anything or "well-rounded." I'm specialized, so I am either exceptional or awful at something. There is no in-between. 

I was excellent at art, music, writing, reading, and web design (far above the "general education level"), so what was set up for someone "average" in these subjects was painfully boring to me (which aggravated my ADHD, getting me into trouble regularly even in classes I loved). 

Additionally, though I excelled in my subjects of choice, I crashed and burned in subjects that missed my hyperfocus (or were contrary to my particular combination of NeuroTypes). Subjects like history (as it's taught in Texas), geometry, chemistry, and economics literally put me to sleep, and my brain couldn't grasp them. 

Mainstream classes always seemed to be either too easy or too hard for me, and the expectations of others made things exponentially worse. 

Because I was gifted in some areas and had low marks in others, it was assumed NOT that I was struggling when my scores were low but that I was "bored" and "not applying myself" because the teachers knew I had been tested and labeled as "gifted" in multiple areas (though not all) and therefore was "capable of more than they were seeing from me" which is why gifted and talented classes also didn't work out well for me - they expected too much.

The assumption that I was "gifted" (when my skills were proportioned differently than most people around me) erased my weaknesses in the eyes of others, raising their expectations of me (and their level of disappointment in me when I would, inevitably, fail to reach those heightened expectations). 

Additionally, because many of the things I struggled with were things my peers found to be "simple" or "easy," my ability to do more complex tasks was used against me. 

"You can do this complex thing - why can't you do this simple one?" is a quick jump to "you must be too lazy to do the simple things" when people see me do "complex things" they cannot do (without realizing that the reason I can do complex things they struggle with is the same reason I cannot do "simple things" they take for granted). 

The invisible differences in our brains determine what is difficult and easy for each individual, meaning the differences that make some things more challenging for one person than the next will remain obscured (if we don't check in and ask people how they're doing). 

Many of my struggles as a NeuroDivergent human are invisible (unless people pay extra attention and care, taking time to get into my head) because I learned at a young age (through bullying and harassment of my peers and authority figures) to keep my pain and struggles hidden (like Elsa in Frozen - conceal don't feel). 

I struggle with things and quietly adapt my world to accommodate those struggles (regardless of whether those around me witness these struggles or adaptations) because asking for help is my last instinct. 

My life is made easier when I'm left to do things my way, permitted to flex the systems around me, but often people expect me to "do it like everyone else does" even though I am not "like everyone else." 

I am NeuroDivergent (Autistic, ADHD, Hyperlexic, Anxious, and a traumatized but healing abuse survivor). The brain I have influences my experience and my actions, as my NeuroTypes pile on top of each other, causing me to diverge further and further from the "NeuroTypical norn" with each additional layer of divergence. 

My struggles that inconvenienced or puzzled other people the most became invisible by design (because of the shame and confusion around them), and my other NeuroDivergent traits that people complained less about were seen as "strangeness," "eccentricities," "passion," "stubbornness," "laziness," or "drive" (depending on who you asked).

Not knowing I was NeuroDivergent for the first chapter of my life meant I grew up believing certain parts of myself (the NeuroDivergent parts) were unfit for people in the world to see or be exposed to (because they annoyed others and were things I "shouldn't do" or should "be ashamed" of doing). 

Wrapped in the shame others had placed upon me, I began toning down and hiding the parts of myself that drew the most negative attention, leaning into things that drew compliments and positive attention, doing my best to convey to the world that “all is well with me” even when it isn’t.