Last week, in the wee small hours of the morning, I took an online test to see if I am autistic. And then I told strangers about it, which you can read about here:
The quiz results said the following: “You are somewhere on the spectrum of being an adult autistic who escaped diagnosis due to sub-clinical level presentation.” In other words, my whole vibe has been just off enough to be considered “quirky” but not off enough that any doctor would call me a clinical problem. In other words, I made it to 36.75 years old before ever considering that just because I happen to hate high fives might have more to do with my neuro-divergent issues than the fact that high fives are just straight up effing lame.
While some of you responded to the last newsletter with hurtful statements such as, “This actually explains… a lot”, others said, “That’s so weird because you just seem so well-adjusted and sociable. What gives?”1 So I figured I’d give my audience what it wants. A story about how I got here. The first part of this essay provides some background (a mini-Quirks, if you will). The second part guides you through the RAADS-R test, but through the perspective of an apparently neuro-divergent person. AKA, me.
Part I: Quirks, Background-Story-Version
Growing up, it was physically and mentally impossible for me to make eye contact with literally anyone.
Growing up, it was physically and mentally impossible for me to speak with or say any words to literally anyone. My first words were uttered when I was 14 and everyone was thrilled. Not really, but kind of.
One time I explained to my therapist that I suffered from an affliction I had recently deemed “Constant Embarrassment”. This is exactly what it sounds like: Being Constantly Embarrassed. If you also have this problem, you might relate to the below embarrassing situations:
Joining your first Zoom All-Team meeting at your new job where you learn that they play music at the beginning while everyone is getting settled, virtually. You would rather die than continue on for one more second.
Reaching the end of a movie in the theater and then you have to walk out with the crowd after having just had an intimate experience together. This makes you dart your eyes around like crazy and pretend like you’re too cool to even have cared about the movie, even though that’s not true at all, you actually really loved the entire experience, but you can’t show everyone else how much you loved it because then you would have to express shared joy so you act aloof until you get to the safety of your car where you can stream the soundtrack of said movie on full blast in sweet sweet amazing solitude.
Any one-on-one conversation.Any group conversation. Any conversation.Taking part in (or watching from afar) any human experience. This includes, but is not limited to: happiness, joy, inspiration, sadness, anger, fear, being tired, eating food, petting dogs excitedly in public, getting groceries swiped by the grocer in the check-out line who insists on complimenting you on every single grocery choice, wearing new shoes out in public and other people noticing them, and/or being the person who has to taste the wine when a fancy bottle of wine is ordered at a restaurant because clearly you’re only pretending to taste it so that the madness can stop immediately oh dear god.
Getting high-fived. Obviously you would never initiate a high-five, this is something that happens to you.
Getting hugged. Obviously you would never initiate a hug, this is something that happens to you. Unless of course you do initiate a hug because you know that’s what you’re supposed to do to appear normal.
Being said “Hello” to. Obviously you would never initiate a “Hello”, this is something that happens to you.
Telling people “Goodbye”. You’d just rather vanish. Or they vanish. No hard feelings here, just… can we please just not.
Everything else. (For good measure.)
I was talking to a friend recently about how often I am in awkward situations. I said, “Surely this stuff is happening to everyone else, right?” She responded with a sad, “No. It’s actually just you. This is a you problem.” I shrugged it off at the time, but then I read about how Amy Schumer had recently helped her husband discover that he was autistic. He had done enough weird things in social settings that she began wondering, and thus, eventually pointed him in the direction of getting tested. Huh. Maybe that’s my problem, too, I thought.
And so, that’s how I found myself at 36.75 asking the Google machine if I have autism in the middle of the night.
Part II: Am I an Adult Autistic who Escaped Diagnosis?
The RAADS-R test is a self-reported screening tool that provides a magical autism test result at the end. It tells you where you fit on the spectrum, generally speaking. And you are asked to rate the following subset of statements, which have four multiple choice answers: i) true now and when I was young, ii) true now only, iii) true only when I was younger than 16, and iv) never true. Below, some RAADS-R Q&A:
Statement 1: I am a sympathetic person.
Psshhhh. Nailing it. I have finally figured out the correct words and non-verbal cues I’m supposed to be using to mimic this so-called “sympathy”. True only now.
Statement 2: I often use words and phrases from movies and television in conversations.
And I was like… EMILIO!!!
…
True now and when I was young.
Statement 3: I often don’t know how to act in social situations.
Got me here. But after years of "Social Situation Exposure Therapy by way of College Student Government and A Job Where Networking Is Required”, I’ve somehow figured out the basic mechanics. True when I was young.
Statement 4: I’d rather go out to eat in a restaurant by myself than with someone I know.
Seriously? My truest joy in life — eating alone in a restaurant — is a crime? True now and when I was young.
Statement 5: Others consider me odd or different.
This is starting to get offensive. You know the most common word that people have used to describe me throughout my entire life? Quirky. I don’t even know what that means, but it’s like all the people got together and were like, “We know — let’s all just use this one single word to describe her, through eternity.” True now and when I was young.
Statement 6: I have a hard time figuring out what some phrases mean, like “you are the apple of my eye”.
For fuck’s sake another fucking metaphor that I have to decipher. Okay. I can do this. A mysterious face is floating in front of me, but has two giant apples where the eyes are supposed to be. But the sentence says MY eye. So is it MY head with the apples in it? What the eff does this even MEAN. Why would somebody even want apples in or of their eyes. I don’t even like apples. I can tell from the tone in which this sentence is being said that apples of eyes are supposed to be good so I will register this specific statement as a compliment in the “Remember These Metaphors” section of my brain. This way I can remember to act in the way that humans deem “pleased” if it is ever said again because that will make them feel good about themselves. True now and when I was young.
Statement 7: I miss my best friends or family when we are apart for a long time.
I really hate that I decided to share my answers to this autism survey because I’m going to get a lot of shit for this one, but… Not really that true ever?
Statement 8: I like having a conversation with several people; for instance, around a dinner table, at school, or at work.
Never true.
Statement 9: I have never wanted or needed to have what other people call an ‘intimate relationship’.
Ew, David.
…
True now and when I was young.
Statement 10: The phrase “I’ve got you under my skin” makes me uncomfortable.
All I see here is the entire body of one human bulging out of another human’s forearm skin. For some reason the first human fits entirely within the other human’s forearm, thus making the forearm human a literal giant and the enveloped human a tiny person, however (thankfully), they’re both consenting adults in this scenario. True now and when I was young.
Statement 11: I keep lists of things that interest me, even when they have no practical use (e.g. sports statistics, train schedules, calendar dates, historical facts and dates).
Oh god. True now and when I was young.
Statement 12: I like to talk things over with my friends.
Never true. Honestly, I’m not sure why my friends are even friends with me but I’ll take it.
Statement 13: I do certain things with my hands over and over again (like flapping, twirling sticks or strings, waving things by my eyes).
You mean the tapping thing I do with my fingers against the palm of my hand at least once every hour? 1-2-3-4-5-4-3-2-1-2-3-4-5-4-3-2-1— I count with my fingers to the tapping. It has to count to five or it doesn’t count! Alternate the fingers until you get to five! Or one! But never in the middle — Get to the end with a one or a five! True now and when I was young.
Statement 14: I can chat and make small talk with people.
Refer to statement 11, bitches!!! True only now.
Statement 15: The phrase, “He wears his heart on his sleeve,” does not make sense to me.
Not this again… True now and when I was young.
Statement 16: If I am in a place where there are many smells, textures to feel, noises or bright lights, I feel anxious or frightened.
You should have seen me at the food carts the other day. Panic vibes until I found safety at an isolated table in the corner. True now and when I was young.
Statement 17: I keep my thoughts stacked in my memory like they are on filing cards, and I pick the ones I need by looking through the stack and finding the right one (or another unique way).
You mean the sub-categories of thoughts that work like stairs? I like to store my thoughts this way so that in the middle of the night when I want to freak out about, say, work — then I can access all those work thoughts in that one stair. When I want to freak out about, say, everything, I can easily access each thought by walking down each stair, in order. When I’m done with that category of thoughts, I walk down to the next stair and think those categories of thoughts. The stairs are never ending and they go on into eternity.
True now and when I was young.
Statement 18: I am often told that I ask embarrassing questions.
If only I could take back all the questions I’ve asked. The problem is, I didn’t know they were bad questions to ask until I saw the facial responses of the Ask-ees. “Why did you get divorced?” “Have you always had those veins in your hands?” “Why did you win that scholarship and not me?” I’m sorry to everyone for all the questions I have asked. I’ll do better. (No I won’t.) True now and when I was young.
So there you have it. At this point I bet you’re wondering what my score was, what it means, and what I’m going to do about it. And because I apparently have zero boundaries, here are the answers to those questions.
What is my score? Yeah right. You think I’m going to publish that on the interwebs for all to see? See below.
What does it mean? Honestly, I’m not sure. Nothing? Everything? Is this why it seems harder for me to be a human?
What am I going to do about it? Nothing. Except! Use it as an excuse every time I do something weird that irks my people. Oh you want a HUG?! Sorry. Can’t. On the spectrum.
Nobody said this.
Ha! Of course I immediately took the test (because I love online tests) and of course I scored 63, which is JUST below the threshold, but there's something obviously off with me, so I should probably take ALL the tests! ;)
Welcome to the spectrum LB! Loved this one. It’s more fun here with friends. I’ll share my quirks and journey when I’m out your way. *Hugs and High Fives!