Many funny things happened after I ‘came out’ as AuDHD to the people I knew five years ago.

One person, after a long pause, whispered: “You didn’t need to tell me that,” through a teeth-grittingly pained expression like Wallace witnessing Feathers McGraw at the controls of the Wrong Trousers.

A bunch of people outright stopped talking to me. Genuinely, a few people I spoke to frequently decided to pretend they no longer knew me. Walk straight past me in the corridor like I was some sort of millennial ghost. I found it interesting, but ultimately not that sad, considering they had the capacity to do such a thing.

The best reaction however, was from health professionals.

After my AuDHD diagnosis started showing up on my health record, visits to the GP became… weird. In the UK, what tends to happen at a doctor’s appointment is you go into the doctor’s room and you sit there while the poor, over-worked GP skim reads your notes as fast as they can whilst simultaneously asking you what it is they can do for you today.

Post-diagnosis, conversations with a doctor would tend to go something like this:

Doctor, while reading my notes: [Normal, friendly if slightly disinterested tone]
Hello Ren, how can I help you today?

Ren:
My hip has been hurting quite badly recently.

Doc, clearly having got to the bit in my records about my diagnosis: [Speaking slowly, expressively and overly happy… like a children’s TV presenter who has just made a rocket out of a yoghurt pot]
Awwww, really, that must be awful!!! How long has it been like that?!

It’s become my typical experience of a GP’s surgery. The doctor scrolls past the back pain and anaemia, hits the ‘has certificate for Best in Autism’ line and suddenly the tone shifts dramatically from ‘business as usual’ to ‘there’s a child in the room who must be looked after’. I fully expect at some point to be offered a box of toys and a sticker (no to the toys, unless it is Meccano, and yes please to the sticker).

Perhaps I’m being harsh, though I do have a tendency to gaslight myself (you’re being a drama queen!). Contrary to popular belief, this autistic mess can interpret tone of voice… well, to a degree. I can when it’s as obvious as this, at least. I suspect they don’t speak to everyone like that purely because it has only started happening after I got diagnosed (pattern spotting in action! I earned my certificate!).

(Obvs hashtag NotAllDoctors as well, particularly those with lived experience. A lot of doctors are fantastic and not given their due.)

I wonder what drives certain doctors to approach autism like that? Are they conflating it with something else? But even with the ‘something else’, isn’t it patronising to another adult, whoever they are?

I dunno, I guess it’s better than being horrible to someone. At least it’s caring and polite. But it does feel like I’m being patronised or spoken down to, and leaves me feeling a little bit odd about it all.

Has this ever happened to you? Did anyone change how they interacted with you after you told them you were neurodivergent? I’d love to read about your experiences in the comments.

Take it easy,

Ren

PS. I appreciate everyone’s support so much. If you would like to become a paid supporter, you can check out my Patreon here, or buy my zines here. My long term goal is to make a small income from my writing and hopefully grow into writing more long form stuff - including finishing that book of essays on autism and ADHD. There’s an option on Patreon to support me for £1 a month - it goes a long way. Your support is so appreciated. Thank you.