The Puzzle of Me: My Life with ADHD, Autism, and a Search for Meaning

I’m currently in a period of self-reflection, prompted by a job search that has brought me back to square one. After working and traveling across half the planet, I was laid off last year. This has given me the chance to revisit all the stages of my life, especially as I face the challenges of ADHD and autism.

My Early Years

In 1989, I started school like all the other kids my age, but I was different. I had more energy, a mind eager to absorb information, and boundless enthusiasm. My teacher, however, was a 60-year-old who had never encountered someone like me. I would interrupt her with urgent questions, and when she sent me out of the classroom for this, I would simply go home while the entire school searched for me. It wasn’t long before my parents were called in, and it was decided that I couldn’t thrive in a traditional school setting because I had "special needs."

At the special needs school, I could be as enthusiastic and energetic as I wanted, but the pace was slow, and I quickly grew bored. The schools argued over who should keep me, and eventually, I was transferred back to the original school and medicated with amphetamines, a drug given to soldiers decades ago. The medication made me focused, quiet, and subdued. But to the other kids, and especially their parents, I was a weirdo, someone to avoid.

My Struggles with Friendships

As the years went by, it became clear to my peers that I was different. I became an easy target for bullying. The teachers didn’t know what to do with me, but they couldn’t risk advancing me to higher education, fearing I might embarrass them.

My enthusiasm was drowned in ever-increasing doses of stimulants, and I became mostly passive. Occasionally, I’d make surprisingly intelligent comments, but that was the extent of it.

I had no real friends, only a few parents who pitied me and let me hang around with their kids. But once those parents left the room, I became the one to carry out all the shenanigans they were too scared to do themselves. I did everything to belong, whether it was exploding post boxes, taunting some poor soul, or jumping into a cold lake.

Seeking Purpose

At 17, I left school without a real plan for my life. My dysfunctional home life pressured me to earn money to help pay the bills, so I hopped from job to job until I realized I was stuck in a dead-end. I decided to do something about it.

While working, I took evening classes, earned my high school diploma, volunteered for the military, and found purpose and discipline. After leaving the military, I studied computer science and gradually became the person I am today. I worked my way into software engineering while secretly pursuing my creative passions of composing music, writing, and painting.

That feels like a century ago. Now, in my 40s, after working and traveling across half the planet, I was laid off last year.

Diagnosis and Understanding

It was only recently that I discovered I have a mild form of autism, specifically the cognitive version. This realization felt like finding a missing puzzle piece. I began to understand that I struggled to hold onto friends because, at a certain point, they felt misunderstood by my lack of traditional empathy and my tendency to respond with logical answers to emotional issues.

While I can deeply feel when someone is in pain or happy, I struggle to read facial expressions and body language, which has often led to misunderstandings. As a child, I was frequently tricked by others because I didn’t understand when something was meant as a joke or when someone had bad intentions. This understanding gave me back control and answered a lifelong question: "What is wrong with me that nobody wants to be my friend?"

The answer is simple: "Nothing." While I spent years feeling sorry for myself, it was actually the other way around. The people I wanted to connect with were searching for their own answers, and they just assumed I was like everyone else, a friendly face who listened to their stories but wasn’t really interested in their struggles. My path always seemed to cross with people during their moments of difficulty, and I gave them exactly what they needed: a cold, hard truth. Afterward, they simply moved on.

I’ve helped many people across the globe realize their potential, overcome struggles, and find solutions. But those solutions were often painful, and who was I to tell them? Sure, in the moment, they might have been upset or hurt, but from that point on, they had a little voice in their head telling them, "That’s what you have to do." They probably remember me as the mean person who intruded into their lives and meddled with their most private affairs.

Some of these people have returned years later to tell me what an impact I had on them, even thanking me. But ADHD paired with autism is tricky, and I don’t remember most of it. Still, I’m happy I could help.

Family and Self-Acceptance

Today, I’m a parent, blessed with an amazing 5-year-old. I’m married, bought a house, and everything is in order. My family is my treasure, and I love them more than I could ever love myself. I am at ease with who I am and what I know, and that knowledge will make me more careful in the future. Perhaps that will help me find friends. If not, then that’s okay too.

The Future / Job Search

As I mentioned, I’m currently looking for a job. While I don’t want to use ADHD and ASD as an excuse, I can tell you I struggle. Even with a resume full of experience and lifelong knowledge in many areas, I simply can’t get my foot in the door for an interview. When I do manage to start a conversation, recruiters and hiring managers often tell me I’m either too technical or not technical enough, which confuses me.

The reason is simple. When asked a question, I break it down into microscopic details. So when they start with technical topics, I give them the entire process, consuming most of the interview time and overwhelming them. This leaves little time for non-technical questions, which I then rush through, answering with less detail but at a faster pace. This approach, while well-intentioned, often leads to miscommunication, much like my difficulties in personal relationships. Moving forward, I’m working on refining how I communicate in interviews, focusing on balance and clarity.

My autism diagnosis was mainly a new layer of awareness for me. It gives me a lot of clues about my past and how I could’ve handled certain situations differently. For the future, I need to work on improving my ability to read people, asking questions if I believe something is negative or if I’m unsure about others' feelings. My autism is mainly cognitive; I can’t read facial expressions, gestures, or determine the theme of conversations. I do have empathy, if someone sad enters a room, I feel something is not right. In many situations, I’m confused and don’t know what I should feel or why I feel a certain way about a person. Understanding this about myself has been liberating, and it’s guiding how I approach both personal and professional interactions.

Thanks to my ever-supportive partner, I was able to take a gap year, which ended a few months ago. I used the time for family, self-discovery, and trying to understand what I want to do next. I wanted to determine if I should continue with my 20-year career in Quality Assurance or embrace my artistic side and start over in music, sound design, or even writing.

As I look to the future, my goal is to find a career path that allows me to blend my technical expertise with my creative passions. I’m also focusing on refining my communication skills, particularly in understanding and interpreting social cues, which I’ve always found challenging. I’m committed to finding a role that values both my technical abilities and my creative mindset. Given my history, I’m eager to find a position that allows for collaboration, ideally in a more social environment, as I miss the in-person interaction that remote work lacks.

Interpersonal Relationships

Moving forward, I plan to approach relationships with more awareness. Understanding that my cognitive autism affects how I interpret social interactions, I will be more mindful of how I engage with others. This means asking clarifying questions when I’m uncertain about someone’s intentions or feelings and being more conscious of how my responses might be perceived. I also want to build stronger connections by being open about my challenges, which might help others understand me better and reduce misunderstandings. I’ve learned that while I can’t change how my brain processes social cues, I can improve how I communicate and relate to others, fostering better relationships both personally and professionally.

Support Systems

My support system, especially my family, has been invaluable in helping me navigate these challenges. My partner’s understanding and encouragement allowed me the time I needed for self-reflection and growth during my gap year. I’ve also found that seeking help, whether through therapy or support groups, has been crucial in managing the emotional and psychological aspects of both ADHD and autism. These support systems have helped me maintain a positive outlook and have been essential in guiding me through the ups and downs of my journey. I’ve come to realize that relying on these supports isn’t a sign of weakness but a critical part of my strategy for navigating life’s complexities.

My 50 Cents of Advice

Everyone’s life and circumstances are different. While we all start in the womb of our mothers, the place we enter this world differs. I can only ever write from my own perspective and reality.

Don’t let anyone define you. You are not who you are because of ADHD, autism, or whatever biology has handed you. Those are just puzzle pieces you find along your path, giving you a better understanding of what you’re dealing with as you assemble the bigger picture. Never lose hope, stay true to yourself, and remember: there is nothing wrong with you. You cross paths with others for a reason, and that reason isn’t always for your own benefit. Helping others is a blessing, even if it doesn’t make you rich or directly enrich your life.

Only when you are at peace with yourself can you activate the universe’s built-in autopilot. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, even if it doesn’t feel that way right now. You can do anything you want and become anyone you wish to be; nothing can stop you.

Don’t chase wealth, because pursuing money will drive it away. The universe wants you to struggle, and the more you struggle, the happier the universe is. Don’t envy billionaires or try to mimic their paths; it’s their way, not yours or mine.

Always stand up for yourself and others when you encounter injustice. A former manager once told me I used ADHD as an excuse and that it was unfair to make exceptions for me in a performance review. At the time, I worked on complex projects and had to make quick decisions without a manager present. Even though my project manager backed me, it didn’t stop my manager from giving me poor performance reviews. After several occasions, I reported it, and while I lost that battle, I’m glad I stood up for myself. However, I’ve learned that sometimes it’s better to let go because the emotional toll isn’t worth it. I eventually dropped the issue.

Lastly, don’t assume you know anyone but yourself. Most people don’t even know who they are, so how can they truly know anyone else? Everything often seems a certain way, but it's almost never how it appears. You're only in control of yourself. Do people really know who you are?

Be yourself and don’t try to change because others tell you to; change naturally and because you want to. There is nothing wrong with you; the world just can’t comprehend how awesome you are and how much you bring to the table. It can be hard for people who aren’t neurodiverse to accept that others might have a unique blend of skills and perspectives. I believe this stems from insecurity; I just learn things that interest me, without overthinking whether I can or should. And I will continue to do so until my biology imposes natural limits, but I will never stop striving to go that extra mile.

Tomorrow is a new day and the beginning of something new. Every day brings a new version of myself, a constant resurrection shaped by the sum of my past. People change a little every day, and by the end of this day, I've learned something about myself just by writing this.

Source of Picture AI generated