Coming Out as Autistic

At age 54, I was diagnosed with autism. The following is the email that I sent to my family to help them to better understand me and also to help me more fully accept myself and my unique needs.

Dear _____,

I feel I owe you an explanation for not visiting you in recent years as well as some changes in my behavior/lifestyle. As you know, late last year I was diagnosed with "high-functioning autism". It was a long time coming, but with the official diagnosis I've been able to look back at my life through this new lens and gain a certain clarity. The reality is that autism is what has been plaguing me my entire life.

As you know, I went through a terrible, suicidal depression a number of years ago. This turns out to be fairly typical for autistic folks. The reason is that high-functioning autistics engage in a behavior called "masking". That means that for most of my life I was able to pass myself off as a (mostly) normal person. But the problem with doing this is that masking is an incredibly taxing act. After years of masking, many autistic people experience what is known as "autistic burnout". This is when one just can't possibly keep the act going any longer and sinks into a depression such as I did. What can be particularly confusing is that seemingly all of a sudden a whole bunch of odd behaviors show up as the fake persona crumbles and the natural tendencies start to express themselves. This process is known as "autistic regression". It's confusing for the autistic person going through this experience as well as loved ones who suddenly find the person they've known and loved is now quite different. For me, this meant I shut down socially, started wearing the same clothing every day, started eating the same bland meals every day, and became dependent on routine and irritable whenever it was interrupted. As mentioned, the process is extremely confusing and I thought maybe I was losing my mind.

But the good news is that, with the knowledge of the diagnosis and my typical deep dive, I'm finally coming to terms with my true nature and finding some genuine peace in that. I'm finally allowing myself to be the odd individual that I am. The part I'm still struggling with is that I really feel guilty that I'm letting down all my friends and family. I put on the act for so many years and now people are unable to understand what's going on with me. Masking is an unconscious process, but I still feel responsible. But as I educate myself and open up, I'm trying to share my new reality with others. Here are some things that you probably didn't know about me - all of them are very typical of autism:

I don't like talking on the phone. The reason is that autistic people use more visual clues, and without those social interactions become more stressful.
I don't like to socialize for more than a few hours. It tends to be extremely taxing. I'm good for a few hours before I start to feel exhausted and irritable. Afterall, it's called "aut-ism" meaning "self" for a reason. Autistic people need a lot more alone time than neurotypical folks.
Overstimulation is something I need to watch out for. The nervous system is on high-alert most of the time, so I need to minimize stimulation in the form of sound, taste, smell, and touch. This means I actually prefer bland food. I can't take noisy environments. And I like to wear the same comfortable clothing that is not too tight and doesn't have tags or collars, etc..
I love routine. It brings me so much comfort. Getting out of my routine is challenging, so I usually need advanced notice of any change to avoid getting irritable.
I don't experience nostalgia or miss people the way a normal person does. There is a lot more "out of sight, out of mind" for me. I understand this can be difficult to hear or comprehend for anyone who isn't on the spectrum.
I communicate best in writing. Writing doesn't carry all of the anxiety that conversing does. Hence me explaining all of this to you with this email.

Anyway, I know this probably all sounds pretty strange. It's been strange for me. And it's strange for everyone around me who thought they knew me. It's a process of understanding who I really am so that I can finally be comfortable with myself and my life.

All that being disclosed, I want to talk about our relationship. Long-distance relationships are challenging for me due to the reasons above. They always have been. And I'm sorry to be springing this on you after all these years. That's on me for not knowing or allowing me to be myself. I need to be honest with you that a X-hour drive with an overnight stay is difficult for me. My intention is never to disappoint or hurt anyone, but rather it is imperative that I take care of myself. I was in an incredibly dark place for many years and really thought it was going to end in suicide. If you Google "autism suicide rates" and read the AI overview, you will find this: Autistic adults without a learning disability are 9 times more likely to die by suicide than the general population.

In some ways, I did die with my depression - a type of psychological death. The old Thorby is gone, and a new, more honest reality has emerged. I realize my life may sound boring and lonely to a normal person, but I am finally finding peace in accepting my natural inclination for solitude and routine. And I know that those who love me are less concerned about what they are or are not getting out of me, but rather are happy to hear that my life-long struggles are finally subsiding.

I hope you'll take some time to fully process what I've written. If you want to discuss it with me, that's fine. If not, that's fine too. I just wanted you to understand where I'm at in order to manage expectations.

Love,

Thorby