Everyone has one of those days when they feel like a misfit; it’s part of the human experience to deal with feelings of social isolation and being misunderstood. Most people manage to overcome it and get on with their lives.
But there are others who feel like permanent misfits because the internal wiring of their brains make them experience and perceive life differently from everyone else. Some of these individuals look and act perfectly normally, while others display profound behavioural, cognitive, emotional and physical challenges.
They’re young children, adolescents and adults. What they all share is that they have autism spectrum disorder.
I was officially diagnosed with ASD in September 2015, at the age of 55.
For decades, my parents suspected that I might be autistic. As a small child, I couldn’t maintain eye contact with other people. I invented my own language and didn’t speak in complete English sentences until I was four years old.
I had no manual dexterity in my right arm, and I was extremely sensitive to loud noises. I had poor social skills in elementary school, and was brutally harassed in junior secondary because I was perceived as different.
In the 1960s and early 1970s, there were no methods of assessment, support services or trained professionals available for children with ASD in British Columbia. Federal and provincial government funding was non-existent. My parents and relatives did their best to help me cope with my situation.
As an adult with ASD, success in my working career was difficult. My inability to hold eye contact and tendency to answer questions verbosely proved to be problematic during job interviews.
I couldn’t see a colleague’s non-verbal cues or facial emotions when interacting with them. Abstract problem-solving skills and remembering verbal instructions were also affected. My vision is hyper-sensitive; I’m easily overwhelmed by too much information displayed on an electronic screen, which is ironic because my specialty is helping people learn how to use computers and mobile devices.
I strongly believe that my working career would have been very different if my autism had been properly identified when I was a child.
Losing a dream job at the University of Victoria finally brought me face-to-face with my autism.
I was on probationary employment and having difficulty carrying out my duties. During a tense performance review, I told my managers that my family suspected I had autism, and how it affected my work.
To the university’s credit, it arranged for me to undergo a complete neuro-psychological assessment by a registered clinical psychologist. The two-day assessment cost about $4,000, and it is not covered by the Medical Services Plan.
The results confirmed I had autism, which came as a huge relief because it finally validated what my family and I had suspected for many years. Unfortunately, I was terminated by the HR department because I couldn’t perform my duties satisfactorily, and the university was unable to find another position that could accommodate my autism.
In the past 18 months, I’ve found that there’s no individual provincial funding available for older adults with ASD. It honestly feels as if the provincial government doesn’t want to acknowledge the existence of older adults with ASD who genuinely need funding for counselling and support.
I applied for assistance from Community Living B.C. They conducted an autism psychological assessment, but I don’t qualify for funding because I’m not intellectually disabled, and only “mildly” adaptively disabled.
There’s no Medical Services Plan coverage for ASD counselling or therapy, which would be really helpful. Adults with ASD are also voters, a fact that I hope the politicians might pay attention to during April, which is Autism Awareness Month.
I’m now on a journey of self-advocacy, with a lot of guidance from Autism B.C., Community Living Victoria and InFocus Services, which provided me with useful career and vocational assessments.
Meanwhile, I’m working for an employer who knows I have ASD and is giving me opportunities to help grow his expanding technology business.
Anthony Gurr is an educational technology specialist with a master’s degree in education from Simon Fraser University.
