Passing As “Normal”

This is a tough article to write, as I approach it from a neuro-diverse perspective, and for me, “normal” is anyone’s guess. Even among people on the spectrum, there is a rich variety of presentations, masking, where we can fool most people who don’t know us intimately.

Masking itself is something people tend to think they have a grasp on, to the point where you’ll hear the statement, “everyone masks.”

Yes, to a point.

In the vernacular where that is often used, it can come from an understanding where people put on favorable expressions of presence. This means a change in posture, tone of voice, assertiveness, eye contact, and so on when in the presence of different people or groups, and when working to be accepted or to establish a position in a hierarchy or other social order.

Where this relates to someone on the spectrum is more about how we mask in ways that downplay our innate habits of expression or action that would otherwise be deemed unacceptable or would have us viewed as strange or otherwise someone to be avoided. Odd and comforting repetitive hand movements, vocalizations, body swaying, and lack of eye contact are just a few of the things that some of us have learned early on make us stand out from the rest of our peers in a way that invokes unkind gazes, insults, or aversion. If we are able, we intently study those around us to see what is acceptable, what is the “norm,” and how not to stand out from that particular affliction.

Then there is also the profound willingness to express what we’ve learned on subjects that we deeply study-and for which we have little filter or sense for our peer’s patience or desire to find anything interesting in what we are saying for as long as we continue to speak on the subject.

We do our best to study ourselves and how to match and reflect what we see others doing. Some of us can downplay our expressions. Some of us can’t. As stress increases, our ability to downplay our innate expressions becomes difficult or impossible. In those times, if we are able, we excuse ourselves from being in groups or where particular sounds, textures, bright reflections, smells, and the like can become overwhelming.

And when I say overwhelming, I’m talking about to the point where we can think of nothing else but all the stimuli hitting us all at once and where even thinking becomes extremely difficult. This is where we break down or burn out and become somewhat unresponsive, except for those movements that bring us some kind of comfort or ability to focus past the intensity surrounding us.

I actually had something akin to a panic attack the other day in a restaurant. Even walking into the place, I was hit with the sound of people, bright and brassy, reflecting off the hard floors and walls. By the time I got into the main room with all the tables, the sound was overwhelming. It’s even stressful to write about it, simply because it’s so strong in my recall, but I think it will help people understand. At first, I didn’t. I simply knew that I had to get out of there. I tried extremely hard to calm myself, going through all my meditation training to focus on my feet or the textures of my clothing-anything that would help me deal with a pressing wall of sound that wouldn’t stop.

I was with my two close friends who knew something was up with me. I had to excuse myself, I told one of them I just had to get some fresh air or something like that. In truth, it was everything I could do to not run out of the place.

Outside, I stood in the shade, just on the edge of where the sun was beating down on the pavement. Behind me, I could hear the muffled wall of sound. It was still too close. I breathed. I focused. I focused on not hyperventilating-something I did in 7th grade and didn’t understand until the school nurse made me breathe into a paper bag and asked me if I was worried about anything.

I didn’t have a paper bag this time, and I wasn’t doing well getting myself in control. And I hated it. Hated that I wasn’t able to collect myself as I had done so many times before. Many, many times. I was practiced at it, but nothing worked. I couldn’t go back in there.

As I was going to text my friends about it, they came through the door. They knew. Even they could feel it was too much. Something about that restaurant, that day was just more than I was able to deal with at that time. They were kind enough to agree to another restaurant, and I can’t say enough positive things about those two.

Even changing restaurants, the effects of what I pushed through didn’t leave me for hours. I spent as much time as possible with my headphones in with nothing playing in them or only the particular repetitive sounds similar to the background ambient noise from the bridge of the Enterprise from Star Trek. That’s soothing. It helps me calm down and focus. To think on something other than the rest of the noise my body was feeling.

Like anyone else in life, I tend to avoid dealing with stressful events at times. The restaurant was just an example of many things coming together at once. My resources for dealing with the overwhelming sensory issues were much lower because of having little time to calm myself from other issues. Oftentimes, the need for the quiet of a library isn’t fulfilled. Days filled with persistent noises, scents, textures, need to be balanced by the absence of those things.

I’ve been spending the last few times out at libraries with my friends. It is needed, and it is valued.

Now, take our kind of masking and then add the masking “normal” people do on top of that in order to be able to fit a particular need for business or social interactions. What many don’t understand is that our heightened sensory issues, the stress of them, doesn’t go away. It’s downplayed as best as our resources can hold out. It’s the subtext of sensory data that have to be dealt with before we can even think to effectively fit in with any particular social presentation. Before we can think to remember a firm handshake, good eye contact, proper posture, and saying the right power words and so on.

Passing as “normal”…yeah, I think I can do it very well.

At times.

Originally published at https://ericecane.substack.com.