“It Felt Like Everyone Had Been Given an Instruction Manual Except Me.”
“I used to look at the other kids playing and think, How do they know what to do?”
“Drinking made me feel normal.”
“It felt like everyone had been given an instruction manual except me.”
These are all sentences that I have heard people say in AA meetings as they describe why they were drawn to alcohol. The first times I heard these sorts of statements I nodded fervently.
Yes! That’s me! I relate! HELLO! I RELATE! Thank god!
Five years after I got sober, I discovered I am Autistic, which shed even more light on the difficulties I have had throughout my life connecting with people. Since then I’m learning a lot about what that means, and considering how this knowledge can help me to live better.
But how many more people turn to drink because it helps them manage a neurological difference they are not aware they have? My guess is A LOT. Which is sad because alcohol might be effective in the short term, but it wreaks havoc in the long term.
Autism often runs in families, and there’s a good chance my parents could be Autistic too. My mum can see she has a lot of the same traits I do. My dad was a much more classic case though sadly I never realized when he was alive. He loved to drink too. He went to the same pub every evening, like clockwork. That was how he socialized. Without beer, he seemed to find human contact physically painful.
Which was the situation I found myself in as I became a teenager.
After I got sober I found it sad that our family events had always been alcohol-fueled. Why did we need to drink in order to connect to each other? I longed to have a teetotal conscientious sort of family who sat and read together in the evenings. I wished I had been born a hundred years earlier when the pace of life was slower and women sat around all day sewing in fancy dress. (In reality, I probably would have been a servant, but don’t ruin my fantasy.)
Instead, my home life consisted of people who wanted to do their own thing in very particular ways. Gaming, reading or watching soaps, I have very few memories of us having conversations or playing games together. We went out for family dinners, sometimes, and then everyone got drunk. Not out of control, but not exactly in control either. Tipsy and shouty and loud. This, I learned, is how you socialize.
By 33 I had come to rely on booze so much that I had to get sober. Things improved exponentially. But some things wouldn’t shift. My social anxiety, for instance, wasn’t going anywhere. Why did my adrenalin spike when I hung out with my sweetest friends? Why didn’t I seem to have a filter? I understood with more clarity than ever before why I had become so dependant on alcohol. It had helped to numb all of these anxious and awkward feelings.
Something still wasn’t right, and so I kept searching for what it was. Mood disorder? No, your mood swings seem reactive not pathological. ADHD? Possibly, let’s get you booked in for an assessment. And then finally, someone asked if I had ever considered Autism. I had not.
at 37 I was diagnosed Autistic.
I am finding a lot of peace as a result of receiving this diagnosis. I can see how my parents struggled to raise a family and work and forge new relationships after they separated while experiencing the same issues with executive functioning, social anxiety and emotional dysregulation that I now experience. I can see how life was overwhelming to them, and they struggled to keep all the plates spinning.
And I can see why they turned to alcohol and other distractions.
My family isn’t the only one that turns to alcohol to manage unidentified health issues. The research shows that addiction is closely related to mental health struggles, and I believe more research will follow to show how neurological differences can lead to addiction too.
Autism involves difficulty connecting with people via neurotypically approved avenues (eye contact, taking turns, passing the conversational baton frequently, keeping it positive/light). This difficulty connecting and the many instances of getting it wrong causes anxiety about connecting in future and so a vicious cycle is created.
Alcohol helps to suppress social anxiety.
Drinking, for me, felt like becoming a ‘normal’ person. By which I mean a confident-seeming, carefree person who is happy to sit in a group of people and take turns at talking for hours.
So, of course, I drank a lot. How else could I have socialized? I genuinely thought the two were essential because for me they were. I’m lucky that I stopped when I did. But how many other Autistic people find themselves lost in addiction? And what might their lives be like if they were allowed to be their real selves?
My dad, when he wasn’t drinking, was the loveliest, kindest, funniest man. He loved birds and nature and engines, and if you put him in the places he was comfortable, he was confident and capable. But in the neurotypical world of socializing, he couldn’t cope at all. And so he drank. I missed out on many things because of his crutch. And I understand why he developed it, but it will always make me sad. Some things, in this life, you never get back, and that is a tragedy.
There is a cost to drinking the way that he did and the way I did when I drank, and that cost is real human connection, intimacy and authenticity. After a lot of hard work, I have found a different way to live, so as not to miss out on these important things. The question is, how can we help more people to discover the alternative to the easily accessible and socially sanctioned booze?
Recently, someone put a call out on Twitter.
It turns out I am not the only person that has drawn a line between Autism and alcohol use. There is a gap in the research, and people are trying to fill it. SABAA is an SSA-funded project looking at the overlap between autism and addiction. The project aims to identify research gaps and priorities as well as to provide guidance for future work.
I am really excited to be on the steering committee and to get a better handle on where exactly the gaps are in the research. If anyone wants to know more information, to be involved or to be on the mailing list, there is the sabaa@soton.ac.uk email address and you can follow the project on Twitter at @pspsabaa.
I will share the research from SABAA that seems relevant, and keep you posted about how the project develops. And if you like my work and want to support it subscribe to my newsletter on Substack. There are free subscriptions available, and paid if you want to support me to write more content like this.
You can connect with the Autism community on Twitter. If you have a question, use #ActuallyAutistic or #AskingAutistics (or both). You can also visit The Autism Self Advocacy Network and the Autistic Not Weird Facebook page and website.