What exactly is autism? Some people have asked me why I use the term Autistic Spectrum Disorder (ASD) to describe my particular condition rather than Asperger’s syndrome or High Functioning Autism (HFA). The simple reason is that diagnosticians no longer use such terms. I probably would have been diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome several years ago, but now the term ASD is used instead for everyone who has a diagnosis. This means that some of the literature on Asperger’s syndrome is still relevant reading for anyone who wishes to know about autism. The problem with describing some autistic people as ‘high functioning’ is that it can give the misleading impression that they don’t need any social, financial, or psychological support. This is evidently not the case. Many people with ‘high functioning’ autism can struggle deeply with social interaction, obsessionality, repetitive behaviours, and sensory overload. This article contains some of my reflections on the meaning of autism in the light of my own diagnosis.
It is important to understand that autism is a ‘spectrum’ disorder and manifests itself differently in each individual despite various similarities across the spectrum. For me, it is a combination of sensory difficulties, social difficulties, and obsessionality. It is important to stress that autism is not an illness. It is a different way of thinking about the world. Autism can be a strength as much as a weakness. It is not really a ‘disorder’ as such despite the diagnostic title, but it can complicate mental health problems and comorbidities in such a way that many autistic people can struggle to get by without help and support. I have struggled with chronic depression and treatment-resistant anxiety disorders alongside of my autism and have needed psychological therapies and medication to manage my condition.
Autistic people often struggle with social interaction. For example, I struggle to make friends in the real world (even though I am a veritable doyen of social media) and I have difficulties in understanding the rules of social engagement. Some people would describe me as aloof or as living in an ivory tower, and this is largely true about me. I would rather be alone than in company. I spent Christmas day this year on my own – quite happily reading a new book. I go out for lunch on my own. If I had the confidence to fly in an aeroplane by myself, I would go on holiday alone. I am quite happy and content by myself. I struggle to understand sarcasm and the rules of conversation. In fact, I view small talk as being largely pointless and a waste of my time. I like the deep stuff. If you have a conversation with me, it will inevitably turn towards some deep aspect of philosophy, history, or theology – my special interests. I will probably bore you to death.
Many autistic people would often describe their problems in terms of the sensory difficulties they face in life. To my way of thinking, there is so much noise in the world. It is hard to escape from it. I prefer the solitude of my study or the silence of a library because it is quiet. There is no noise to disturb me. I thrived in a university environment for this reason. Similarly, bright lights are everywhere and many autistic people struggle with this. For example, I hate car headlights at night; I hate the light or glare on my computer screen and smart phone as it often makes me anxious with prolonged use. I very rarely, if ever, watch television because of the bright flashing lights and flickering images which make me anxious. Since my diagnosis, I am only just beginning to learn how sensory difficulties impact me. I would be anxious previously for what seemed like no reason at all, but now I am recognising the causes of my anxieties in feeling overwhelmed by sensory factors such as bright lights and loud noises. The only way I can describe the feeling is like listening to the sound of rubbing two pieces of polystyrene together.
The other aspect of my autism is obsessionality. I have always struggled with obsessional thoughts since childhood, some of them dark and deeply unpleasant which it has taken over three years in therapy to disclose. These thoughts have sometimes led me to serious episodes of depression and suicidal ideation. This is the dark and dangerous side of obsessional patterns of thinking. But I also have obsessional or highly particular interests which can be very useful. As I child, I loved to read and collect children’s encyclopaedias – what a nerd! Anyone who knows me, knows how much I obsess about books and specialised academic literature. I am not joking when I say, I have collections of some books that university libraries would be envious to obtain – a complete set of Karl Barth’s Church Dogmatics for instance and all Abraham Kuyper’s works in public theology. In this sense, autism is one of my strengths. It gives me focus on very particular academic subjects which most people could never be bothered to study or maintain a sustained interest.
Autism is something you are born with. There is no such thing as being a little bit autistic. You are either autistic or you’re not. And if you are autistic, you are autistic your whole life. Autistic people can find it tricky to communicate and be intimate with other people. I would actually rather be by myself. That’s not weird, it is just different. Autistic people can also find it difficult to ‘read’ other people – to understand how other people think or feel. I often struggle to understand how my own father and brother are feeling, never mind strangers or acquaintances. Their feelings and emotions are a complete mystery to me. Autistic people may also feel upset about unfamiliar situations and social events. I prefer to have everything planned in advance. We are the great organisers of the world. My watchword is ‘preparation’. I even have a timetable that I live by at home on a whiteboard in the kitchen. My life mostly consists of studying and taking detailed notes on my reading. Autistic people like to do or think the same things over and over again. I feel most comfortable reading only one book at a time, parking in the same place all the time, going to the same coffee shop, eating at the same restaurant, ordering the same food, and buying the same drinks. Is that weird? Maybe, but that’s me. That’s autism.
Some children with autism are described as ‘little professors’ because they sound more like adults in their use of language than children at times. This was certainly true in my case as my parents and family would testify. Some people even used to call me ‘Prof Reynolds’ or ‘Posh Josh’ quite jokingly when I was growing up. I have some difficulty understanding irony, sarcasm, and figurative language – though I have gotten to grips with this largely through researching the meanings of words and phrases in the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) and the Welsh-language dictionary Geriadur Prifysgol Cymru (GPC). I am often the last person to get a joke and will sometimes only laugh once I have taken the time to figure out what the joke actually means. This not to say that I don’t have a sense of humour, as I absolutely love good comedy. It just takes me a little bit longer to process sarcastic humour and irony.
I struggle a little with showing empathy and this is a common problem for people with autism. It is not because autistic people are unempathetic, but because they struggle to read social cues such as eye contact, facial expressions, vocal tones, and body language. Autistic people can actually be some of the most empathetic people in the world when such causes align with their particular interests. For example, I am passionately concerned about human rights, animal welfare, and environmental protection as anyone who knows me would tell you. But in a social situation, I may struggle to read the emotions and feelings of others, including close family members. When things get particularly tricky for me in complex social situations, I often avoid looking directly at people and stare at some point beyond the persons in the room. This can make me seem uninterested or unempathetic when in reality the opposite might be the case.
Some autistic people struggle with restricted or repetitive interests or behaviours. For example, autistic children will collect rocks, or toy cars, or batteries. They may only be interested with certain parts of toys such as the wheel of a toy car or bike. I used to like to sit in front of the washing machine as a child and watch it spin for hours – it gave me great pleasure (and I secretly still love it now!). My parents used to sit me in front of the washing machine if I was having a meltdown in order to soothe my distress. Weird, I know. I also like the soothing motion of being driven in a car as well as rocking back and forth. My parents would sometimes drive hundreds of miles just to get me to drink half a bottle of milk as a child. When I am distressed now, I often go for a drive to country (the same route every time, of course) to get a coffee (from the same place, naturally).
I deeply enjoy following the same routine every day and get quite distressed if my family or friends want to change my routine or add something to the list. I have to know well in advance so that I can put it on the calendar and prepare for it. I have found living by timetable at school and university profoundly helpful. If everyone lived according to rules of time and space, this world would be a better place in my view. Some autistic people have repetitive hand movements or gestures. I have a tendency to tap my fingers and make rhythms as if I were playing a keyboard. I also display significant anxiety through repetitive handwringing when distressed. I enjoy lining up all my books in straight lines and making sure they conform to my particular order. I get annoyed if family members move my books without my permission. I can sometimes get quite distressed by the amount of checking I have to do to make sure all my books and papers are properly aligned and in the right place.
Some autistic people can be highly intelligent and successful in academic circles. I would imagine that many people in academia are actually on the autistic spectrum somewhere but remain undiagnosed as their disability is hidden by their advanced intelligence. This is certainly true in my case. I was an A* student at school and achieved excellent grades in all my examinations, even though I struggled with loneliness, social isolation, and bullying during my school years. I hold a BA (Hons) in Welsh language and literature and a Master of Philosophy (MPhil) in Welsh literature for my research on Jonathan Edwards and William Williams, Pantycelyn. I have studied at doctoral level and aim to continue my doctoral studies in the near future. I have highly specialised academic interests in philosophy, theology, and history. I also play the piano and harpsichord quite fluently, have a keen interest in music theory, and I am able to compose and improvise with music in the styles of my favourite composers and periods from the history of music.
The problem with high intelligence is that it often masks autistic tendencies during childhood and early education. If teachers don’t get any trouble or behavioural difficulties with children who are generally well-behaved and highly intelligent, they don’t pursue matters further. A lot of pain and difficulty in my life could have been avoided if teachers were more aware of the signs and symptoms of ASD and picked them up in my childhood. This is why it has taken so long for a diagnosis to be made in my case. I was diagnosed as a 30-year-old adult after serious mental health trauma, frequent hospitalisation, and input from secondary mental health services. Some autistic people are also good at copying others to hide their difficulties with social interaction. I was known for copying the style and mannerism of one of my favourite preachers as well as many of the thoughts and opinions of one of my university lecturers. This is known as echopraxic behaviour or ‘masking’. It essentially means being a good actor and hiding your social anxiety or discomfort by copying the behaviour of others.
Autistic people often tend to struggle with meltdowns when there is an overload of sensory, social, and obsessional information. If you imagine shaking a bottle of fizzy lemonade for every bright light, loud noise, social difficulty, or obsessional thought that came to mind, eventually it will explode when thing get overwhelming. Meltdowns are not tantrums. They are emotional responses to overwhelming social and sensory information. Meltdowns in children can result in crying, screaming, or shouting or physical responses such as kicking, lashing out, or biting. Adults can appear to be having a panic attack or nervous breakdown during a meltdown. And it is often deeply upsetting for the ASD sufferer and for family, friends, and colleagues who witness the meltdown event. The opposite reaction is also possible in autistic people: shutdown. This occurs when the autistic persons shuts off all sensory information and social interaction. For me, this takes the form of spending long periods in bed alone and withdrawing into myself and my own world.
These are some of my personal reflections on autism and the difficulties I have in processing sensory and social information. It is important to stress that every autistic child and adult is different and will express their autism in different ways, albeit with similar traits across the spectrum that can be identified by clinical specialists. I hope my writing contributes to autism awareness and helps to end some of the stigma and put to death some of the myths surrounding autism. If you think you or your child may have autism upon reading this article, please consider going to see the GP and getting a referral to your local integrated autism service.
References and Recommended Reading
Attwood, Tony, The Complete Guide to Asperger’s Syndrome (London, 2008).
Beardon, Luke, Autism in Adults: Overcoming Common Problems (London, 2017).
Fletcher-Watson, Sue & Francesca Happe, Autism: A New Introduction to Psychological Theory and Current Debate (Oxford & New York, 2019).
Frith, Uta, Autism: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford, 2008).
Grandin, Temple, and Richard Panek, The Autistic Brain: Exploring the Strength of a Different Kind of Mind (London, 2013).
Price, Devon, Unmasking Autism: The Power of Embracing our Hidden Neurodiversity (London, 2022).
Shore, Stephen, M., and Linda G. Rastelli, Understanding Autism for Dummies (Hoboken, NJ, 2006).
Useful Websites
National Autistic Society (autism.org.uk)
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