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'My autism diagnosis is the best thing that's ever happened to me'
For me, the latest study into autism by the universities of Montreal, in Canada, and Copenhagen, in Denmark, makes for depressing reading. According to the study, between one and two per cent of Western populations are diagnosed with the disorder – a huge rise over the last 60 years or so.
The study authors warned that autism is so overdiagnosed that, within a decade, the term could be essentially meaningless. “If this trend holds, the objective difference between people with autism and the general population will disappear in less than 10 years," said Professor Laurent Mottron, of the University of Montreal’s Department of Psychiatry. “The definition of autism may get too blurry to be meaningful – trivializing the condition – because we are increasingly applying the diagnosis to people whose differences from the general population are less pronounced.”
These statistics compound a worrying stereotype of someone suffering from the condition that I live with: a tentative, vulnerable, nerdy and shy individual in need of constant attention, who ticks a checklist of apparently undesirable personal characteristics. But my experience shows that autism can be a positive, not a negative.
From a young age, my mother noticed some peculiarities in my behaviour and at the age of two I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome. My development was not ‘neurotypical’ compared with that of other kids. Then, and now, my mum would often remind me that I sometimes forget to make eye contact with people; a characteristic considered a developmental delay indicative of autism.
I remember my first day of nursery. It was a terrifying and chaotic experience. Later, at primary school, I was a small boy in the playground lying on the bench talking to the teaching assistants while others played.
By the time I joined secondary school, I had developed a deep aversion to the blaring sound of the period bells which screeched in my ears like primates. I was left out of social groups for being clumsy and awkward, and struggled to interact with peers.
The lowest point came during a geography trip to Chamonix, France, when a group of bullies stole my clothes, ran them under the cold shower and put them back in my suitcase. The incident filled me with fury, prompting me to punch a hole in the hollow hostel wall.
I wish I had been able to understand what I was growing up with sooner, but when my mother first explained it to me, it was difficult to piece together what it means to be autistic. As I matured, and found out more, I began to realise how my condition has served me as a vindication to live. Autism gives me a sense of purpose. I use what I was born with to my advantage.
Like many with this lifelong condition, I see, hear and experience the world differently from people without autism. Whilst there is no ‘cure’, with the right support, I have so far been able to live a fulfilled and active life thanks to a passion that has remained with me: writing.
As a student, I learned that penmanship allowed me to communicate in a way that I couldn't always through the spoken word. In 2017, I won the awarded ‘Most Outstanding Student’ at the Shine School Media Awards – a national competition rewarding secondary schools which produce outstanding newspapers, magazines, podcasts or websites.
Currently, I am reading politics at the University of Kent in Canterbury, and editing InQuire, the student newspaper.
I knew that journalism was the career that I wanted to pursue, because I prefer to state the facts. One of the symptoms that I have is that I am a borderline obsessive – I fixate on an interest, so I'm good at focusing on a particular topic for a long period of time. My obsession is an idiosyncratic talent that allows me to myopically dig into subjects.
Granted, there are obstacles to being on the spectrum, particularly in high-tension scenarios, which I have had to combat in order to feel at ease with the responsibility of engaging with others in order to reach the ‘facts’. Conducting an interview continues to be an onerous task that brings an exhilarating whirlwind of emotions.
From personal experience, the most difficult engagements do not involve famous faces; it's dealing with the general public when I am out doing vox-pops that give me the jitters. Talking to them requires building new relationships with strangers.
In the past, no one understood why I could not cope: why I seemed dull-witted and abnormal, never having the words to explain the queer feelings no one else seemed to experience. Neither did I. Today, I know I should never have tried to ‘fit in’, but instead embraced my condition, as I do now. It has helped me gather more friends, build a better relationship with my family, read more. And it has given me a new direction to help others see themselves more clearly.
I am glad of my condition and that I have been able to put my past struggles to good use. Being diagnosed with autism is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I am not a ‘broken normal’, as many people claim.
We are extraordinary people capable of extraordinary things.
Follow Bill Bowkett on Twitter: @Bill_Bowkett