Autism spectrum disorder, creativity, and me

Under the fear of the virus, I was quite happy to work from home and didn’t miss seeing people face-to-face as much as others seemed to. I used the time to reset, get my health and fitness back on track, and start some new creative projects. It was recuperative and rewarding having less mental input to contend with.

The anxiety only began for me when restrictions came down and I had to go back into the world, having had a taste of what it felt like to be temporarily excused from the topsy-turvy of social interactions. That was probably the first in a long list of signs that my reactions to things weren’t like other people’s.

Since our return to ‘normality’, I’ve been noticing things I hadn’t before and asking myself questions: why is seeing people causing me social anxiety? Why is my mental battery so vastly reduced? Why am I more sensitive to sounds and textures? Has this always been there; something I’m now just noticing?

Looking for answers to these questions online and taking a deep dive on some behaviors I’ve exhibited throughout my life has led me to the discovery that it’s quite likely that I have autism spectrum disorder (ASD), and always have – I just hadn’t had a name for it until now.

Getting an official diagnosis in the UK takes some time, or is prohibitively expensive. For me, self-diagnosis has been useful, though it remains a controversial topic. I’m currently seeking an official diagnosis and would encourage others with experiences like mine to do the same.

You might think that’s a scary thing to uncover. But, for the first time in years, I feel quite aware of who I am. My conception of self and my behavior makes sense. Lots of incidents in my past, issues I had growing up and through school, now seem clearer to me when viewed through the lens of undiagnosed ASD. I feel empowered by this knowledge. To quote Spiderman’s Uncle Ben, “with great power comes responsibility”; I feel compelled to share my experience in the hope it helps others feel the comfort and strength I have.

How does ASD affect me?

Besides answering a lot of questions about why I always felt a little bit different, it’s empowering. I don’t believe in pathologizing behavior into ready-made psychological categories, but there’s a sense of understanding oneself that can’t be denied. From that understanding grows acceptance, then confidence. Confidence in your own experience of neurodiversity is hugely important in navigating work.

It can also help us to understand our skills, and sell ourselves. For me, being neurodiverse and a creative is beneficial. I’ll approach a creative task in a way that might not occur to a neurotypical person (or might not occur to them immediately). Neurodiverse people, much like the old Apple slogan, ‘think different’. That can be a factor in heightened creativity.

When I was a full-time comedy writer, my greatest success in writing sketches was smashing together two seemingly disparate and unrelated topics to create comedy that felt weird but relatable. I still look at my own approach to creativity as fusing together things that shouldn’t make sense but do. Understanding your own capacity as a neurodiverse creative in this way is invaluable in selling your uniqueness to an employer, client, or audience.

Some neurodiverse people can detect complex patterns much more quickly and easily than their non-autistic peers. For someone working in digital media like me, it helps me digest complex analytics and insights, and to understand the complex ‘cultural landscape’ of social media. Some autistic people process sensory information in a deeper, highly sensitive way which (though challenging in a loud pub) is extremely useful in my work, as I find that conceiving of things in this holistic way allows me to intuit when an idea or campaign ‘feels’ right.

A ’classic sign’ of autism is a deep interest in particular subjects. Again, this is extremely valuable for someone working in a creative role (or doing a pub quiz). In my case, I work with a lot of entertainment clients such as Sky TV, where being a walking IMDB who can speak at length about why the Sopranos is the greatest artistic achievement since Ulysses adds a layer of deep expertise and understanding to briefs and projects.

Your neurodiverse team

It isn’t all roses and sunshine, though. There are very real drawbacks and challenges to being neurodiverse in a professional setting.

Like a lot of ASD people, I tend to struggle with small talk (though I don’t think you have to be neurodiverse to find chats about the weather to be a searing knife to your soul). I often sidestep this by jumping straight in with humor, which people can either find quite disarming or, well, arming(?). It’s something I’m aware of that a neurotypical person may not even notice.

Some neurodiverse individuals might not ‘fit’ the profile that some employers are looking for and maybe lack some soft interpersonal skills (though this isn’t always the case; I’m quite a sociable person, I’ll just need to charge my batteries after). It’s important for employers to be aware of and consider how to accommodate neurodiverse people.

It might have taken a global pandemic for me to come to a better understanding of my ASD, but it needn’t require such drastic measures for companies to recognize the value of neurodiverse talent. Once you can make a home for neurodiverse people on your creative leadership team, the work will be enriched, more diverse and, hopefully, a little bit different.