Physical Reactions to Stressful Interactions

Last updated on December 13, 2024

Good people in relatively good workplaces might still fail to understand or appreciate the traits of an individual Neurodiverse person.

Tangent: I have addressed why I prefer to “misuse” Neurodiverse instead of using Neurodivergent. I might shift to “Neurominority” in the future; “Autistic” remains the best way to describe my traits to the broadest possible audience. Whenever two or more people gather, it’s a moment of Neurodiversity. Not all Neurominorities are Autistic.

I have resigned from my position as an office worker for several reasons, not the least of which is pain and sensory overload. The secondary reason was that I was not valued for my knowledge and skills. The things at which I am good, or even excellent, were not the tasks I was being assigned. The tasks I was expected to perform were on the edge of my skills and interests. 

The job posting listed skills and knowledge I have and about which I am passionate. I was willing to learn and take direction to improve the few other skills requested. 

To my Neurodiverse colleagues, I advise you not to accept workplaces that will not guide you through training and provide structure. Ask for assistance when necessary and walk away if it becomes clear “you’re the problem” in the eyes of others.

The Big Warning Sign that professing “inclusion” is an empty gesture: the employer suggests training to overcome your nature. I am not suggesting you avoid common workplace training on matters such as harassment or first aid. Instead, I am pointing out that if an employer recommends a social skills class, that’s barely a step above ABA for many of us.

My daughters and I have endured multiple forms of therapy meant to “fix” our Neurodiverse (those divergent) traits. It isn’t that I’m opposed to all social skills lessons, but there are only so many rules I can process, and I will not adopt any rule that encourages me to lie, omit, or otherwise be dishonest. (See, I “diverge” from normal because I prefer the truth, at all times, and carefully state only what I know is true or admit to ignorance.) 

I do believe the leadership in the workplace is well-intentioned, but they could not understand my Autistic nature. There was no way I could explain how much pain I suffered, and how long that pain would last (months or years), after my character was questioned. Worse was attempting to process the defensive statements that no insult was intended.

As usual, I at first blamed myself for not being able to control my responses to pain, sensory inputs, and communication confusion. I had done everything I thought necessary, including detailing my personal traits and trauma responses. After more than five decades of classroom and workplace “failures,” it’s only reasonable that I spend each and every day anticipating impending doom.

First, nobody understands anyone else. The best we can offer is support to each other. Nothing frustrates me more than someone stating that they understand my Autistic experiences or those of any other Autistic.

I experience physical pain with some sensory inputs. As I am also dealing with pain from a pinched nerve and a bone spur in my cervical vertebrae, the pain I endure from sensory inputs is, in retrospect, too much for me to deal with and maintain social skills in the workplace. When I’m in this much overload, I must avoid interactions because someone will inevitably say or do something that triggers a horrible memory or sensory overload.

I should have — and had considered — resigning from my post much sooner so I could take care of my physical pain. Severe problems with my right arm (which is partially paralyzed) have followed the neck and shoulder pain that began in early September. Medical tests and procedures are scheduled for at least another month and possibly into next year. Nobody should be working through spinal pain, not even to survive a probationary contract period. Imagine horrific pain lasting four to six months.

Yes, I said aloud, in the workplace, that I would rather have my right arm removed than endure the pain much longer. Apparently, that was one of many inappropriate responses to the question, “How do you feel? Are you okay?” No, I am not okay.

Do not sacrifice your physical health for any job.

And now, I am physically and emotionally pained by an interaction almost two weeks ago that I cannot forget. My Autistic mind replays negative moments over and over. I apply rigid rules and values to myself and others. My two major rules: be honest, try to be kind. Honesty trumps everything else.

That day, I was told that I had received training that I had not. In fact, I recalled the date when the training was suggested, yet it was unavailable. That was part of a pattern in the workplace, likely because it’s too easy to lose track of training delivered with a small team is also racing to keep up with too many assignments. A lack of training followed by criticism for not knowing undocumented procedures was just too much for my mind to process.

Employers must develop and adhere to training plans. Follow a clear, structured, training plan. Revise the plan as necessary. Do not blame new employees or contractors for not knowing how things are done or why. Institutional knowledge runs deep and cannot be transferred “on the job” without a plan.

I cannot process being called inaccurate or untruthful. Regarding myself and my memory, those are the same thing. I always admit what I do not know or if I am uncertain of something. My students value this, even though some initially consider my admissions of ignorance a teaching strategy, a mere act meant to foster self-reliance. My students get to know me better. In the classroom and in the workplace, I state, “I don’t know,” and “I’m sorry, but I will need to research that” frequently.

Do not question my recollections of my experiences. It is the greatest of insults; I can imagine no worse insult to my character. I take a lot of notes by hand and by keyboard, though I rarely need those notes. If you question me, you should provide evidence of my memory error. Questioning my honesty is the surest way to cause a lasting meltdown and distress because that is how I define myself.

I was informed that replying factually that my memory borders on eidetic to the point of triggering my senses was inappropriate. And when someone condescends to my skills, knowledge, or intellect, I do respond with facts and data. My educational background suggests I can and will learn new skills. My intellect is intact, even if my Autistic traits lead some to question my cognitive capacity.

“Rhetorical questions” still escape me. I answer them. I also reply to sarcasm and irony inappropriately. If I haven’t mastered social communication by now, I doubt I’m going to do so. That’s one reason I feel safe teaching: students rarely ask questions to which they don’t want answers.

A professor once asked, “What do you think you are, some kind of genius?” I responded that I was a by some measures a genius, but that such measures don’t suggest I know anything, only that I might have the capacity to master something new. The professor took that as braggadocio, when I was replying to a literal question with a literal answer. Don’t ask a question to which you do not want a response. (I would have continued by explaining that I am ambivalent towards intelligence “tests” because they are culturally encoded and require familiarity with the content.)

I have tried to adopt the rule, “Do not answer questions about yourself. Those are unintentional traps.” That’s not a healthy approach to navigating social settings, especially workplaces. Plus, the rule leads me to constantly ask, “Do you want me to answer that?” People, especially supervisors, don’t like that question.

The damage from the recent interaction will last, especially the physical response. My body and mind respond to perceived attacks. I am too old and exhausted to tolerate other people’s insecurity.

Unlike many Autistic self-advocates, I do not celebrate my Autistic traits. As I approach 56 years of life, I know that my traits have often led to misunderstandings, misery, and isolation.

I need a workplace that follows the advice I offer when conducting seminars for educators: Listen to people to understand their needs. Ask what I am like, and I will tell you. Bluntly and with no effort to hide my shortcomings, which are many.

Maybe I should sit at home and write in isolation. Maybe I should apply to teach part-time once again next year. What I won’t be doing is rushing back to work before I am healthy, nor will I be applying for jobs in loud, busy settings.

The Autistic Me is best off not attempting to navigate complicated social settings. I should have known that before accepting the probationary position in an office.