Socially Awkward

My AuDHD Greatest Challenge

Thanks to Charlie Rewilding, the Substack author of Rewild (whose writings and videos I’ve been following for quite a while now), I recently discovered another great Substack writer, Allie Warren who writes the Dopamine Diaries. In one of Allie’s posts, she wrote about her difficulty navigating social situations. Her story resonated with me and I shared a comment with Allie:

That post got me to think about my difficulties with social interaction and communication and I thought I’d share some of my own experiences with you.

My Social Experiment

When it comes to autism and ADHD, one of my greatest challenges is feeling socially awkward. If I have a goal, or agenda such as teaching one of my regular college courses or continuing education workshops, I do fine. I can be engaging, be fully present to student questions and comments, and even appear to be somewhat extroverted and funny (at times). In other words, I can appear calm, composed, and socially appropriate—dare I say, more like a “neurotypical.”

In those situations, I generally feel comfortable, confident, and relaxed. That’s because I know what’s expected of me and I’m confident in my role as a teacher and college administrator.

It’s certainly not where I started as a college instructor in 2001. Back then, my face would turn beet red, my heart would be pounding, I would feel extremely nervous and anxious, and I would avoid making any eye contact while quickly rattling off my notes in front of the class. Also, when I tried adding some humor to my presentations, it didn’t go over well and came across very awkwardly. I sounded like a sped-up robot who was ready to duck into a hole.

When I think back on that today, it feels like a lifetime ago, and doesn’t seem like that was me—but, it was. Just thinking back about twenty-five years ago, I feel sorry for my former students for having to sit through my classes. That’s certainly not where I am today as a college professor.

I’m very stubborn and determined (I have a lot of willpower). Being born under the influence of Mars as an Aries ascendant shows up for me in these situations.

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Special Interest Sidenote

By the way, one of my special interests is learning and practicing Jyotish, which is Sanskrit for “the science of light” which is thousands of years old and extremely surprisingly accurate—not to be confused with Western astrology.

“Jyotish is distinctly different from what we think of as astrology here in the West. The difference is that in Jyotish we use the sidereal zodiac, which is based on the fixed, observable positions of the constellations, as we see them in the sky. Western astrology, in contrast, uses what is called the tropical zodiac. The tropical zodiac is based, not on the fixed, observable positions of the constellations but rather on the relative and changeable position of the sun…In Jyotish, we don’t think of people in terms of their sun sign, as we do in tropical astrology. Instead, we enter the chart through what is called the “ascendant,” the constellation that is rising on the Eastern horizon at the time of a person’s birth. This sets up the relationship between the planets at the time of birth to the event of the birth and gives clues about an individual’s personality, physical body, and the way the person presents themselves to the world. We think of a person first in terms of the ascendant.”

You can learn more about it here).

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Now that I’ve been teaching for over 20 years, and have had lots of wonderful personal coaching, and supportive colleagues over the years, I feel quite confident in my current abilities.  Today, I’m one of the faculty members who tends to get high marks for my classes. And, ironically, I’ve been asked to assist new teachers in becoming better presenters. Who would have thought?!

Now, let’s contrast how I present myself in the classroom (whether in person or online) with how I do in personal, and social interactions.  It’s literally like the difference between night and day. To be perfectly honest, I don’t have a social life–and haven’t had one for decades. Honestly, since finishing my first graduate degree in my mid-twenties, I haven’t had friends I just hang out with. Partly it’s because I don’t have much time these days and partly because I have lots of social anxiety and have had many different fears related to interpersonal relationships.

Don’t get me wrong. I love occasionally hanging out one-on-one with others. But, I generally feel social anxiety because I have difficulty navigating social interactions.  In social situations, I don’t know what’s expected of me, or can’t read how to be in a personal (non-work related) social environment. At times, I overshare, I have been told that I stare, some people have gotten offended by one of my spontaneous comments, and internally, I feel like a boat drifting out at sea without a rudder or an anchor.

My wife and kids have told me that many times in social interactions I’ll turn into a teacher or professor and start lecturing or talking about some special interest of mine. Even my college-aged daughter told me recently, “You sound like my college professor” when I was trying to have a personal conversation at home sharing something with her and my wife. I guess I revert to what feels comfortable to me. So, I am fine communicating in a college classroom—I’ve learned to do it well. It’s a type of social interaction that feels comfortable and familiar. I know how to navigate it. But, any other type of interaction doesn’t seem to go very well for me. 

For example, recently, my wife asked me, “Why didn’t you wait for me to write that email,” talking about an email response I sent to our son’s high school teacher. I thought I composed a well-written email that was focused and to the point. But, according to my wife, the email sounded too harsh and abrasive and didn’t state what needed to be said. I responded to my wife, “I thought it was appropriate and full of good facts.”

As a result of my good intentions, my wife was writing a second email to help “smooth out” the first one that I had sent. Again, to my oblivious mind, I was proud of my taking action and thought I did extremely well. I thought I was being proactive in supporting our son’s needs and explaining the situation. But, according to my neurotypical wife, “not so much.”

Context Matters

I’ve been working at the current college for over 14 years. Before COVID-19, I would work four out of five days from my office on campus. However, since 2020, I’ve mainly worked from home as a college administrator and professor.  For the past four years, most of my day-to-day interactions with students and colleagues have been online via Zoom or Microsoft Teams from the comfort of my home office, a place I feel comfortable. 

As an aside, my quality of life has greatly improved working from home. Not only can I forego the round trip, daily commute which took an extra three hours of my day. But, I can more importantly also avoid all the sensory overload that usually occurs on my way to and from work. You can read more about my sensory experiences in an earlier post.

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However, at times, I still go back to my office on campus. Recently, when I went back, I saw a colleague of mine whom I’ve known for over 14 years and genuinely was happy to see him. I wanted to say “hi” and tried holding a conversation. It lasted for about 2 minutes before I ran out of anything else to say and I felt awkward not knowing how to proceed with our encounter. Because he’s a pretty laid-back person and has known me for so long, he didn’t think anything of it when I abruptly said, “Well, it’s good to see you again. I guess I’ll get going,” at what seemed like an awkward moment for me to say what I did. It’s because of this awkwardness and social anxiety that I generally keep to myself–except for my wife and kids.

Before my autism and ADHD diagnoses, I always thought the reason I had challenges with social communication was because of my complex trauma and growing up as an only child.  This made sense in my brain until I met other people who also either had complex trauma or grew up as only children who didn’t quite have the same experience (or even similar experience to me).  Now, I know that’s because they are more likely to be neurotypical whereas I am neurodivergent.

Real Challenges

Since my diagnosis, I’ve been much kinder to myself and I don’t have unrealistic expectations of becoming an extrovert who enjoys loud parties, networking with many people, or even one-day changing careers and going into sales.  No, I have accepted that I have challenges in this area and that it’s a disability.  In fact, according to the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) in a 2015 case, it was found that social anxiety disorder is considered a disability and protected under the ADA.¹ 

On the Liebowitz Social Anxiety Scale (LSAS) for Adults, I currently score (62) for moderate social anxiety. However, that’s because of the many years (decades) of practicing public speaking, facing my social anxieties in formal therapy sessions, and mainly addressing my many social anxieties through “informal therapy” and support from my wife who’s a licensed mental health counselor. In truth, she has helped me navigate social life for over 25 years.  I have her to thank for how far I’ve come in this area of life. I am truly blessed!

In contrast, to see how I may have scored on the social anxiety scale in my mid-twenties before doing all of my growth work, I re-took the LSAS as though I was twenty-five years younger at the height of my severe challenges. Based on how I remember myself at that time, I would have scored 115, with very severe social anxiety. Back then, I was very much unaware of myself and truly believed that everything I experienced was a result of my family of origin and complex trauma issues. Today, I know it’s because of many decades of unrecognized and undiagnosed neurodivergence that have been complicated by the complex trauma and social modeling from my family of origin.

My Takeaways

We all have different challenges; I’ve learned to manage my ADHD symptoms fairly well. That is, I’ve gotten much better at focusing, concentrating, and staying motivated to complete tasks—even the boring tasks. That doesn’t mean that I don’t procrastinate to complete some of them—like paying a “stupid” parking ticket. Additionally, I have also found ways to reduce my distractability and hyperactivity.

But, when it comes to my greatest challenges, they stem from communication differences and challenges linked to autism. Even though I’ve come a heck of a way since my early to mid-twenties, I now know that I will never be neurotypical and I’m OK with that (actually, I love being neurodivergent)—even when I feel socially awkward or “mess up” an email that I thought I wrote well. I still love myself and continue to learn how to navigate in a neurotypical world.

How about you? Do you have any social challenges? Please leave a comment and share this post with others. I’d love to grow this community.

Endnotes

1.  https://ogletree.com/insights-resources/blog-posts/eeoc-has-defined-ability-to-interact-with-others-as-a-major-life-activity-making-social-anxiety-disorder-a-disability-under-the-ada/